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acris-kerd · 3 years

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For the @sidlinkgiftexchange !! My giftee was @the-puny-pichu !

“Link, that looks revolting.”

Sidon leaned away from the dubious concoction his companion had pulled from his shiekah slate, meeting the Hylian’s doe eyed stare with barely concealed nausea.

Link looked down at the bowl of teeth soup in his hands. Teeth soup.

“…Yeah. It tastes about as good as it looks.”

He stared at it for a moment more and then shrugged, tossing the foul dish into the fire before them. Sidon flinched as the flames cracked and glowed a sickly green before consuming the foul fuel. Link had already moved on to the next entree of stored food in his slate, this time pulling out a cake.

“The variety of dishes in your possession is both amusing and alarming.” Sidon observed, squinting at the slice Link shared with him as though looking for hidden molars or perhaps a bit of moblin guts.

He’d seen the offensive concoctions Link cooked up now. Nothing was safe.

Link shrugged again, inhaling the food.

“I usually cook with what I have. Sometimes I have a lot, sometimes I don’t.”

“I see…and what happens to be the status of your inventory tonight, then?”

Sidon tried to hide the nervousness in his voice. Link pulled out another dish of food, the delectable smell of braised fish paring well with his broad grin.

“A lot.”

The odd pair settled into a warm, summer night. They did this now and again, when Link decided the strange slate on his hip was stuffed with as much as it could carry.. Sidon had long assumed whatever hoarding tendencies Link possessed had been grossly enabled by the sheikah technology, but he wasn’t one to complain. Especially when it meant spending time with Link.

“Here. I found a bunch of silverscale spears and some Zora swords.”

He proceeded to unload a small armory on the ground beside Sidon, who started waving his hands frantically.

“Link! Good gracious, my friend, thank you, but I can’t carry all of this back to the domain myself!”

“Oh,” The little Hylian looked at the half-materialized hilt in his hand, shoving it back into the nether regions of whatever void was contained on his hip. “Good point. I’ll just drop it off with Bazz before I head out.”

Sidon smiled weakly, shaking his head.

“I don’t know how or where you find all of these weapons…I think it’s fair to say half our army is supplied by you alone.”

“Nah,” Link laughed bashfully, throwing another dubious concoction into the fire. The flames turned purple this time. “I just collect a lot of things. No sense in keeping it if I don’t use it.”

“Oh? Are Zora weapons not up to your standards then?” Sidon raised a brow, privately enjoying the fluster that washed over Link’s expression.

“Wha-No! No, it’s not that! I mean—I just have a lot of weapons and—“

Sidon laughed, absently resting an assuaging hand at Link’s back. The champion was so small he could nearly wrap his clawed fingers around him. The thought did something strange to Sidon’s stomach, but many strange feelings tended to permeate his sensibilities around Link, so he tried to ignore it.

He also ignored the way it seemed Link was leaning into his hand.

“I’m merely giving you a hard time, my friend. I know you travel far and wide, and there are undoubtedly more suitable weapons for your cause.”

He eyed the legendary blue hilt that rested close to Link, the previously lightened sensation in his chest taking a turn. Link had been openly carrying the Master Sword much more frequently as of late. Sidon wasn’t sure what it meant, but it left him nervous. Afraid, even.

Link seemed to sense what he was looking at, not meeting his eyes. They were equally quiet for a long time.

“…I’m going to face him soon. Very soon.” Link finally spoke, his voice weighted and somber.

A cold feeling began to spread through Sidon’s chest. It wasn’t a mystery who—or rather what—Link was talking about. Very suddenly, Sidon wanted to pull Link closer. The temptation was so strong he had to remove his hand from where it rested against his back. Link looked somehow smaller without it there.

“…I suppose you won’t be needing a silverscale spear then.” Sidon attempted to lighten the mood, a weak smile playing at his lips.

Link didn’t react for a moment, staring hard into the fire before relenting with a snort, resuming the task of cleaning out his slate.

“Probably not.”

An owl hooted somewhere overhead. The river nearby rushed quietly in the darkness. Sidon let himself stare at Link, at the lean muscles that had been honed around an abused frame, hardened from experience and trauma. His fingers twitched in his lap, claws ticking together mutely. Link was quite fierce when he wanted to be, determined and resolute in a way that bordered on obsessed. Very little seemed to phase his most treasured friend. Even the prospect of facing Calamity Ganon didn’t seem to shake him, not like it did Sidon.

Every time he thought about his small, wild Hylian facing up against such an ancient evil, he wanted to pull him close and protect him from his own destiny. Sidon was a shamefully selfish Prince, it seemed. At least where Link was concerned.

The larger Zora shifted uneasily on the grass, appreciating the way Link spread the fuel of the fire so the flames stayed low and less stressful to his scales.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, eyeing Sidon with undue concern. That feeling in his chest swelled full once again.

“Of course, my friend. No need to worry. I can easily take a quick dip in the river if necessary.”

“Want to right now?” Link very confidently stood up.

“What—now?” Sidon looked at the surrounding darkness, a little taken aback by Link’s sudden enthusiasm.

“Sure.” Link looked like he’d already decided for the both of them, packing his shield, bow, and the sword that seals the darkness into his slate before pulling off his tunic.

Sidon felt a blush flood his face, trying very hard not to appreciate how the firelight cast the musculature of Link’s body into sharp relief and failing miserably. Without inhibition, Link kicked off his boots and pants, driving home how very serious he was.

“Wait, Link, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Why not? You just said you could take quick dip.”

“Yes, but I’m a Zora. That river is hardly calm and there’s no light out.”

“The moon is out.” Link argued, a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

“That’s hardly sufficient for avoiding underwater currents!” Sidon quickly stood and chased after his stubborn companion, who was already heading for the river.

Link turned around, walking backwards towards the water and wearing an expression that left Sidon gaping like a newly hatched guppy.

“Guess you’ll have to make sure I don’t find any. You wouldn’t let me drown, would you Sidon?”

Thank goodness the depth of night concealed how deeply Sidon was blushing. Link was being especially disarming tonight.

“O-of course not!”

“Then it’s fine. Come on.”

Link waved him closer. The pearly light of the moon cast a gentle glow over his features, brightening his eyes. Against the deep blue surroundings, he stood out like a candle, confident as ever and heedless to any apparent danger. Sidon eyed the swift moving water nervously, looking back to Link’s comparatively tiny body.

This was a bad idea.

Without an ounce of fear, Link walked into the closest current, stumbling slightly and quickly regaining his footing. Sidon splashed in after him, throwing any reservations to the wind and bracing a hand at his back.

“Honestly Link, there are other places—safer places—to swim.” He muttered, eyes scanning the dark waters and zeroing in on a plethora of dangers.

“Then take us there.”

He spoke so simply, as if it was the most logical and reasonable choice in the world, which it was. Sidon couldn’t figure out why he was so flustered with it all. Maybe it was the suddenness of the late night swim. Maybe it was the strange position of having to protect this small, ferocious servant of the Goddess from a mundane death. Maybe it was the fact that it was Link, who’d always had an uncanny knack for throwing off his princely confidence, asking to share a relatively normal experience that for some reason felt anything but normal to Sidon.

“Of course!” He agreed gallantly, hoping he succeeded in hiding the wild swirl of thoughts running rampant in his head.

Link smiled at him, and he felt like a floundering guppy all over again.

Sidon carefully maneuvered them into deeper waters. Link was quickly picked up by the current, holding tight to Sidon’s arm and then sliding himself against his back. It was almost reminiscent of when they took on Vah Ruta together, but without the pressure of a cataclysmic flood weighing them down. The closeness this time seemed much more…intimate.

Perhaps Sidon was just over thinking things. Muzu often said he tended to over think things.

“Ready when you are.” Link spoke into his ear, his voice perfectly calm.

Sidon worked really hard to hide the electric shiver that raced to the farthest end of his dorsal fin, rapidly making himself think of the nearest and safest destination.

“Ah, right! Hold tight then!”

Link most certainly did hold tight, which was good, because Sidon knew the Hylian wasn’t exactly the strongest swimmer. He carefully kept them away from more dangerous rapids, following the river downstream to a small backwater pool he used to visit as a child. It wasn’t particularly deep, by his own standards, but had served as an excellent retreat during his lonely adolescence. It was a place he knew Link would be perfectly safe, no matter how unpredictable he apparently aimed to be.

“Almost there!” Sidon called, feeling Link give him a firm squeeze in response.

The water was already noticeably calmer as he took a nearly hidden channel that branched off the main river. It led to a wide pool with a thick bank of overgrowth. There was hardly anywhere comfortable for a Hylian to sit, but it couldn’t be helped. At least there wasn’t a deadly current.

“This is nice.” Link observed, craning his neck to take in all the details.

The moon shone directly above, highlighting a heavy knot work of local grapevines that had rooted in the silt. They draped across most of the surrounding trees, thick with age. A few boulders broke up the tree growth, heavy with moss and various mushrooms. Sidon caught Link eyeing them with keen interest, though he made no move to collect them.

“I used to come here in my younger days.” Sidon revealed, feeling a touch nostalgic now that he was in the once familiar pool. “It was a good place to escape Muzu…or anything else that happened to be upsetting me.”

Neither of them needed to voice what it was that likely pushed Sidon to seek such solitude. With Link’s help, the grief of his dear sister had been laid to rest, and Sidon reflected, as he observed new chains of vine growth and unfamiliar carpets of moss, that he’d outgrown the solitude of this place as well. It was a strange feeling, to feel the ache of both nostalgia and loss and still be okay.

Link silently slipped off his back, using Sidon’s larger body as an anchoring point to pull himself around front. He had a careful expression on his face, one that turned into a soft smile as he observed Sidon’s comforted ease.

“Thanks for bringing me here.” He said quietly, and he was close, much closer than Sidon realized.

A breath of space was held between them for an impossibly long moment. Link’s gentle face took up Sidon’s field of vision,lips quirked into a small smile and eyes full of a chaotic mixture. There was the firmness of resolve and a shadow of something more harrowing, but above all, tender warmth emanated from twin blue pools. It was like staring at a midsummer sky.

“Sidon.” Link spoke his name quietly, and with an uncommon reverence.

The sound of it put a blush back on the Zora Prince’s face. It must have been dark enough for Link to see it, even in the poor light, because his smile broadened slightly. He stared directly into Sidon’s wide eyes, holding his shoulders with such small, powerful hands, his knees bumping lightly against his chest under the water.

Then Link kissed him.

He kissed him selfishly, indulgently, taking advantage of Sidon’s frozen state and even placing those small, powerful hands against his face. It was a touch that felt like desperation. Through the shock of it all and with a horrible flip in his gut, Sidon realized Link was kissing him like it was goodbye.

When the Hero pulled away, he wasted no time to speak, the previous tenderness in his expression extinguished as if he’d given all of his warmth to Sidon.

“I’m going to face the calamity tomorrow.” He spoke softly, too softly for such devastating news, and the flip in Sidon’s gut turned into a punch. “I probably wont survive. I barely survived the first time. …So I guess there’s no need to worry about this making things awkward between us.”

A hundred years worth of emotions were blowing through Sidon with the force of a hurricane. For once, he had so much to say, so many different feelings that wanted to pour forth, that he had no idea how to formulate any of them. They all demanded near equal attention.

Except for one.

“Please come back.” He whispered, eyes wide with fear, heartbreak, and something entirely too close to love. “Link, please come back.”

Link stared with a slow blooming shock, the previously dead expression washing away with each passing second that made clear the seriousness of Sidon’s request. His eyes progressively opened wide, betraying a rare vulnerability, and his mouth hung slightly agape. Sidon soon realized he was clutching at Link’s hips with the same ferocity that Link held his face.

“You have to come back.” He whispered again, feeling like an idiot who couldn’t string together the words to say much else.

“…You…you want me to come back?” Link breathed out, looking like he hardly dared believe it.

Sidon felt his brain short circuit again.

“Do I want you to-?! Yes! Yes, I want you to come back! I always want you to come back!”

“Always?” Link quirked his lips into an adorable half-smile. Sidon could decide if he wanted to kiss him again or smack him.

“Do you realize the highlight of my life right now is waiting for you to walk through the Ne’ez Yohma shrine so I can watch you throw dubious food into a fire?”

Link’s smile widened with every word, all of the shadows leaving even the darkest corners of his face.

“That’s the highlight, huh?”

Sidon was going to say something about Link being a smart ass, but then his brain caught up with all that was happening. Link had kissed him. And he was going to fight Calamity Ganon in a matter of hours. For the life of him, Sidon couldn’t decide which event shocked him more.

“Come here.” Sidon whispered, and he pulled Link into a second, much less fatalistic kiss.

It was Link’s turn to startle with surprise. Sidon held nothing back, moved by Link’s brazen selfishness to take some of his own. He pulled Link closer, tracing a hand up the smooth expanse of his back and feeling him tremble. Link gasped, opening his mouth and allowing them to explore each other more deeply. This kiss did not feel like a goodbye. This kiss was quite clearly the start of something with absolute longevity, Calamity be damned.

“Please say you’ll come back.” Sidon whispered against Link’s mouth.

Link didn’t speak, but he nodded all the same, pulling Sidon back in for a kiss that felt like hope and a promise all wrapped into one.

#omg I always forget the tags #legend of zelda #botw #sidlink gift exchange #fanfic #sidlink

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teawaffles · 3 years

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The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 5

Returning our view from where the two girls began to rekindle their beautiful friendship to the site of the flag once again, a fierce battle was still raging on.

Just moments earlier, the blue team had been at a numerical disadvantage. But with their allies having received their communications and returned, the battle could now tilt either way…… No, they currently had the momentum to push the enemy back just a little.

“Alright, we’re totally forcing them back here!”

“If we can get through this fight, there’ll only be a handful of them left. We just have to hold out a bit longer.”

The nobles had spotted a chance of victory, and they could even afford to smile now. But as they verified their opponents’ positions from within a thicket, from behind a tree on the opposite side, a mysterious object was lobbed in their direction.

“What’s that?”

One noble had noticed the item sailing towards them — a bulging leather pouch. But its opening wasn’t fully shut, and as the blue team members stood rooted to the ground, the contents of the pouch spilled out onto them from above.

Out the bag poured a vast quantity of dummy bullets.

“H-Huhhhhhhh!?”

Stunned, the men shrieked as the rain of bullets pelted them without mercy. Of course, in the blink of an eye, most of them had been covered with paint.

One of the noblemen touched the paint on his clothes with a finger as he spoke in a daze.

“Is this, really possible?”

It seemed that doubt had surfaced in the others’ minds as well, for those who’d been paint-bombed simply stood where they were, their confusion plain as day. And as they did so, in the distance, a figure watched them from behind a tree.

“Sorry about that. Still, this is a great tactic.”

——As James Bond murmured that, he chuckled.

Needless to say, the one who had delivered that hefty blow on the blue team was Bond. At a spot far removed from the crossfire, he’d quietly made his preparations alone, and lain in wait for the chance to pull off this stunt.

Using bullets in this manner, when they were meant to be shot from a gun, could potentially invite controversy; but Herder had said, “If you get paint on any part of your body, you are out” — and not “if you are struck by a bullet fired from a gun”. In other words, if one adhered to the rules as explained, it could be said that this tactic of raining huge quantities of mock bullets on the enemy was legitimate.

Although they’d been suspicious at first, after a moment, the nobles looked at one another and laughed.

“That was an interesting attack for sure, but now…… what’ll we do? Should we call the referee and seek a decision?”

“Nah, we were completely done in — it’s our loss. Let’s bow out with grace.”

Far from leaving them frustrated, the innovativeness of that idea had felt refreshing; even as they harboured twinges of regret, the men obediently left the battlefield.

The red team members glanced at one another, as if wondering why their opponents were leaving the battlefield: it seemed Bond’s unconventional attack had surprised even his own allies.

Gazing at their puzzled faces with delight, Bond began to head for the apparent location of the opposing team’s flag. There was no rule that a certain person had to capture it, so he wanted to settle things himself if he could. With the blue team’s forces severely depleted, as long as they eliminated the remaining few members, they should be able to steal the flag with ease.

But the instant he saw the path to victory, from the direction of his own allies came a familiar voice.

“O—i, everyone. I’ve taken the flag. The game’s over now.”

That was absolutely impossible. A chill ran down his spine.

The voice announcing their victory—— was his own.

“Huh? We’ve already gotten the flag?”

“That was quicker than I thought.”

Naturally, since they thought the game was over, his allies had let down their guard. Bond shouted to them as fast as he could.

“No! That’s not me!”

But the warning came a second too late. Before his voice could reach them, several gunshots could be heard coming from their direction.

“……They’re done for.”

Bond bit his lower lip as he headed for his allies. There, a group of men stood in a daze, their clothes stained with paint. It seemed they had fallen into a spectacularly executed trap.

The number of players eliminated here was comparable to what Bond himself had taken out earlier. Once again, the balance of the battle had been restored, and his shoulders sank — but then he heard the rustle of leaves from a thicket behind him.

Sensing danger, Bonds dived swiftly into the nearby bushes. That instant, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a certain colleague’s young face.

Bond smiled as he raised his gun.

“You said you weren’t the type to get passionate, but that was a pretty nasty trick you pulled there ——Fred-kun.”

“That’s because I can’t let the team Mr William is on be defeated.”

Fred Porlock responded in a flat voice.

“Bond’s” voice from earlier had been a product of Fred’s mimicry. He’d led his opponents to mistakenly believe that the blue team’s flag had been captured, then took advantage of their lowered guard to inflict a massive blow.

“Hmm, so you’re determined to win too. Speaking of which, you’re rather passionate for someone who’s stone-faced.”

He purposely slung those provocative words over, and from the other side of the thicket, Fred’s retort sailed back.

“Perhaps — but getting too passionate only impedes my work. For me, an ironclad rule is to remain calm at all times.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true. It’s precisely this important work which requires a passion that’s second to none.”

“In that case, shall we prove who’s right?”

Fred’s unusually provoking comment had a somewhat joyful ring to it.

Bond chuckled.

“I knew you were a passionate man.”

With that single line uttered with joy as the catalyst, Bond leaned out of the vegetation and raised his gun. It seemed Fred had the same idea, for both of them were now pointing their revolvers at each other. But this was no time for indecision. Both men pulled the trigger, then took evasive action. The bullets passed through the exact spots they’d been a moment earlier, and they each hid behind a tree at the same time once more.

That thrilling battle lasted only a moment. Then, Bond called out with a childlike innocence.

“Aah, what a shame: I’ve been hit. Look, here’s the paint stain.”

“I’m not getting fooled by that — you completely dodged the shot.”

Fred had instantly seen through his deception. But even after his true intentions had been read like a book, Bond seemed to be enjoying himself, and he made to step out in preparation for his next move.

——Then, as if in response to that action, Fred raised his voice.

“Mr William, we can carry out a pincer attack now.”

“……What?”

That shocking line sent Bond looking around the area in suspicion. Then, as Fred had said, he saw William standing behind him.

“Hey Bond. How’s it going?”

“W— Will-kun!?”

For a split second, Bond panicked. He’d been trying to keep an eye out for William’s movements, but then the man showed himself just when he’d been focusing on Fred — this was the worst possible situation he could’ve found himself in. Bond knew he still had a few teammates left, but could it be that William had wiped them all out without making a sound?

In any case, it was a fact that his most formidable enemy had crept up behind him. Bond switched gears: in a flash, he took aim at William.

But far from defending himself, the man simply shrugged, as if he was troubled.

“Sorry, but — I’ve already been eliminated.”

“Eh?”

Yet another surprising statement. Bond’s thoughts were in disarray as he stopped himself, his gun still trained on William. Then, he felt something thud against his back.

“…………”

With an awkward smile plastered on his face, Bond turned his head, and looked behind him. There, stood Fred with his gun raised. Somehow, it seemed a slightly victorious smile had risen on his face.

He didn’t even need to check his back — he knew he’d been hit. With a magnificent sigh, Bond sat down on his haunches.

“Ah~, you’ve got me. So something like that was possible too……”

Now, he finally understood the plan that William and Fred had concocted. Bond ruffled his hair in regret, and William smiled as he spoke.

“There wasn’t a rule saying that you can’t take a detour as you leave the battlefield.”

William had anticipated the strategy his opponent would employ, then used the fact that he’d been eliminated, purposely passing through the frontline where Bond and the rest were in order to give the impression that he was still in the game. Of course, he made sure to tell the people he encountered that he was already out, so that they could avoid wasting bullets on him.

Even so, for those who knew William’s true power, the effect of his presence was enormous; now, just as William had planned, Bond made the mistake of leaving his back open to Fred.

“I didn’t think you’d also exploit loopholes in the rules.”

“Nonetheless, it’s a tactic bordering on foul play. Though, as long as Herder doesn’t show up, it should be alright.”

“……Will Herder-kun appear when someone breaks the rules?”

It was certainly an entertaining thought, but keeping watch over the movements of every single player must surely be a monumental effort. That said, it was flat out impossible for a single person to cover such a huge area — that was probably just a joke, wasn’t it?

In any case, Herder had yet to reveal himself; whatever the truth about his actions behind the scenes, with Bond — the mainstay of his team’s offence — now eliminated, this battlefront had effectively collapsed. As a result, the red team’s chances of victory were now almost zero.

“Aww, even though I was so fired up; I wanted to play on just a little longer.”

Bond hung his head in regret, and William smiled gently at him.

“It’s a pity indeed. Now it’ll be up to Moran and the rest to turn the game around.”

Analysing the state of the battle from here on, William looked towards the little cabin: the setting of the game’s impending climax.

Scoreboard

🔹 Blue team: Albert, Jack, Fred, William, Kevin, Andy

🔺 Red team: Moran, Bond, Louis, Helena

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #the girl who sees rainbows #illustration insert

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your-denki-kun · 3 years

Text

Gaming

Eijirou X Denki X Reader

A/N: This one-shot is a few months old. I have like 137 drafts of which only a few posted and a few unfinished, so I decided to post at least one tonight. So here it is. It's bad and I know it, but I really wanted to post. Also, I don’t play COD, so don’t come at me being all angry that i got stuff wrong. I write, read and play Minecraft, Sims and that kind of games. Also sorry for any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language.

What: Angst, sad, cursing, fluff

Word count: 4.6K+

~3rd person pov.~

After a long day at school you go to sit on your bed after starting your PS4. You get comfortable on your bed and put on your headset. You start up Call of Duty and wait for it to load. Once it's done you go into a random online match and turn on your mic so you can talk with your teammates.

''We're killing these fuckers.'' An aggressive, male voice says, a speaker appearing behind the name; King Explosion Murder.

''Calm down King, they're new to this.'' Another male voice says, the speaker appearing behind the name; Red Riot.

''Yeah King, Red is right.'' Yet another guy says, his name is Charge Bolt.

''Guys, calm down.'' Another male, Spidy Man, says.

''Yeah!'' A girl, Pinky, says.

''Shut it extra's!'' King barks.

''Calm down bro, the game is starting.'' Red says, the numbers on your screen counting down.

''Lets win this shit.'' King says, you can basically hear the smirk in his voice.

As the timer hits zero you run off, walking through the map and searching for a good snipper spot. Once you find one you take out some people, your teammates talking to one another, but you choose to ignore them. As no more people appear you go to look for another spot, taking out someone while looking for it.

''FUCK!!'' King yells as you see he died.

''My ears man.'' Charge Bolt whines.

''Shut it Pikachu!''

''Hey!''

''Guys, focus.'' Red sighs.

They keep talking, but you tune them out once again and keep taking out people. As you shoot someone else the winning screen appears. You smirk as you see you killed the most people. Everyone cheers except King who's just grumbling. You tune everyone back in in order to be able to follow the conversation.

''So manly, BB!'' Red cheers.

''Woo! Finaly someone who's better than King!'' Pinky cheers.

''Nice.'' Spidy says.

''Shut it! We're playing another game!'' King barks.

''No need to be salty.'' You mumble.

''Ohh~'' Everyone except King says.

''SHUT IT EXTRA!!'' King barks.

''Come on King. They're new.'' Red chuckles.

The new game starts and you repeat what you did before. This goes on for multiple rounds, you barely talking and if you talk it's mostly a comment on King. As the night ends you go offline and shut off your Playstation. You get ready for bed and lay down, getting comfortable as you let sleep take over.

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

Over the next two months you keep running into the group of friends and slowly you start opening up to them, actually talking and working together with them. Everyone's scores go up and even King starts accepting you, clearly favoring you over everyone else in the group. That is something the others often complain about.

''King, go a bit to your right behind the wall, I can't get a clear shot.'' You say.

''Got it.'' Is all he says as he aims at the person and kills them.

''Why are you so good at this BB?'' Charge Bolt whines.

''Well, my brother taught me and I play a lot. Red, left, behind the stack of boxes. Like, I play a lot a lot.'' You shrug as you shoot someone.

''Lets just focus on the mission.'' Spidy sighs.

''Got it.'' You all, minus King, reply, going silent once again except the occasional instruction.

Just like always you guys win the round and Red, Spidy, Charge Bolt and Pinky compliment you just like always. You just brush it off and you all start another round. After a few rounds Spidy, Pinky and King have to leave, but Red Riot and Charge Bolt stay. You three play a few more rounds before just deciding to talk.

''So you're telling me none of you guys have ever met?'' You ask in disbelieve.

''Yeah, King doesn't want it and he's always here because we don't play unless he's online. Though that did change since you're here now, but we just never really thought about it anymore.'' Red explains.

''Well, how about we three meet up?''

''Really?'' Red and Charge Bolt ask.

''Yeah, I trust you guys and we can meet up in a public place.'' You shrug, indifferent about your won idea.

''Sure thing.'' Charge Bolt says.

''Great. Okay so I'll tell you guys my number, but don't give it to the others.''

''We don't have their number.'' Red shrugs.

''Okay. So my number is; 0X-XXXX-XXXX.''

''Great, I'll text you. You can make a group chat and we can decide when to meet up.'' Charge Bolt explains.

''Sure thing. Bye guys.''

''Bye.''

You disconnect and wait for them to text you. When they do you save them in your contact list before making a group chat. You name it; Gaming Idiots and wait for them to send something. You don't have to wait long for them to do so.

~Gaming Idiots~

Red Riot Do I need to feel offended?

Charge Bolt No idea bro

You Nah, don't feel offended

Red Riot Okay

Charge Bolt So when are we meeting and where?

Red Riot This Saturday?

You Sure, at the mall in Hosu?

Charge Bolt Sure thing

Red Riot Fine by me

The three of you keep texting for a while until you say good bye because you're almost falling asleep. The rest of the week you guys don't bring up the meeting in front of the others, only mentioning it in the group chat or when you guys are the only ones online. Right now it's Saturday and you're at the mall, waiting for the two males to show up.

You glance around at all the people that are walking around the mall. They both told you what they look like and you did the same. Red Riot said he has red hair and is decently tall while Charge Bolt says he has golden blond hair and isn't all that tall. Red also mentioned something about being buff, which made Charge Bolt jealous because he isn't, or so he says.

As you look around you spot two males, fitting the descriptions you were given, looking around as if they're searching for something. Deciding to test your luck you walk over to them. The closer you get the more sure you are it is them. As you reach them they stare at you, as if waiting for you to confirm things.

''Red Riot? Charge Bolt?'' You ask softly, hoping you're right.

''BB?'' The two of them reply in sync.

''Yes.''

''Cool, we all found each other. Me and Charge Bolt saw each other a bit ago. Have you been here long?''

''Nah, just a few minutes. My real name is (y/n) by the way.''

''Kirishima.''

''Kaminari, nice to meet you gorgeous.'' Kaminari smirks confidently.

''You're the flirt I see. Anyway, what do you guys want to do?''

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

Months go by and the three of you meet up almost weekly. You've developed a crush for the both of them and you have a feeling they have as well. You aren't sure however, but the way you all get flustered and blush a lot is a good indicator. Right now you're on your way to Kirishima's house where you all decided to meet up. You knock on the door and wait.

''Ah, (y/n). You made it. Come in.'' Kirishima smiles as he steps aside to let you in.

''Thanks.'' You smile as you walk past him and into the house.

You take off your shoes and walk further into the house. You soon spot the living room and walk in only to see Kaminari sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table. He smiles at you and waves you over, to which you comply. Kirishima sits down with you guys pretty soon and you look at their nervous faces.

''Something wrong?'' You ask them worriedly.

''We want to tell you something.'' Kirishima starts, avoiding eye contact.

''Okay.''

''We've known each other for a while now and.... We started liking you. Would you be our partner?'' Kaminari blurts out, also avoiding eye contact.

''Of course.'' You smile as you hug them both.

They stare at you in shock for a bit before they start laughing as they hold you close. As you all break the hug after a while you all talk and laugh. When it becomes late Denki walks you home before going to his own house, which you and Eijirou really apreciated. You've never been a big fan of walking outside alone in the dark.

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

''Guys, we should all meet up.'' Pinky states as you all wait for the new round to start.

''Sure, I don't see why not.'' Eijirou says and you can basically hear him shrug.

''Why not.'' Denki hums.

''Sure.'' You mumble as a reply.

''When?'' Is all Spidy asks.

''What-fucking-ever.''

''Such colorful vocabulary.'' You joke as you roll your eyes.

''YOU WANNA GO?!?!'' King barks into your ears.

''My ears man!'' Eijirou whines loudly.

''How about this Saturday at the mall in Hosu?'' Pinky suggests as the round starts.

''Sure, it's crowded so if any of you are creeps I'll be safe.'' You shrug as you shoot someone.

''Don't worry BB. Me and Red will protect you.'' Denki says in a confident tone.

''You're dead.'' You deadpan as you see his name fade.

''WHAT?!?!'' Denki exclaims loudly.

''Jezus. Could you all quit yelling.'' You groan as you slightly shake your head.

''We both know this was gonna happen BB.'' Eijirou sighs softly, amusement clear in his voice.

''But he didn't have to yell.''

''True, but still.'' Eijirou replies to which you sigh.

You all keep talking until King says he's leaving because it's getting late even though it's only nine thirty, but he always goes to bed at this time. As you shut off your Playstation you hear your phone ding, causing you to smile. You grab your phone and unlock it, seeing Denki send something in the groupchat.

~Gaming Idiots~

Denki<3 But I wasn't kidding, Pichu, we will protect you

Eiji<3 Denks is right. We will

You I know, but it's fun teasing you Denki

Eiji<3 You both looking forward to Saturday?

Denki<3 Mhm! I'm curious as to what they look like

You Well one will have wrinkles from all the shouting and scowling

Denki<3 XD fnwfelsfflwnjk

Eiji<3 That's rude, but it is true

And so you guys keep texting until it's late into the night and you're all barely awake. The next two days you all play every night and you text your boyfriends until late into the night on both days. Right now it's Saturday, about eleven in the morning and you're getting ready. You know Eijirou and Denki will be there soon, so you quickly finish up.

Just as you put the last things in your pockets and bag you hear the door bell ring and a smile appears on your face. You walk over to the front door and put on your shoes and coat. After that you open the door and smile brightly. Your two boyfriends do the same, wearing some simple clothes just like you.

''Hey, Pichu, you ready?'' Denki asks as he gives you a quick kiss.

''Hey, Babes. I'm ready.'' You smile as you walk outside and lock your door.

''Good.'' Eijirou smiles as he gives you a kiss as well.

The three of you start walking towards the mall as you all talk and laugh, memories of your first meeting flooding all your minds. As you all reach the mall you look around, looking for anyone fitting any of the descriptions given to the three of you. You soon spot an annoyed looking, ash blond guy.

''Guys, isn't that King?'' You ask your boyfriends as you point at the guy.

''You might be right. Lets go check if it is.'' Eijirou smiles as he starts walking.

You and Denki follow after him, all of you pushing past people and excusing yourselves. As you reach whom you assume is King a pink haired girl and a black haired guy also walk up to him. You look at Eijirou and Denki and they just nod. Now you are almost a hundred percent sure it's King.

''King?'' You ask as you reach the man.

''Yes, who the fuck are you?''

''(y/n), but better known as BB.'' You smile at him.

''Kirishima, better known as Red Riot.''

''Kaminari, better known as Charge Bolt.''

''Ashido, but you guys know me as Pinky.'' The pink haired girl smiles.

''Sero, but you know me as Spidy Guy.'' The black guy smiles.

''Bakugou.'' is all King says.

''now that we're all here and know names, how about we get something to eat and drink before we just do whatever?'' you suggest as you look at them.

''sure.'' they all reply.

you start walking to your favorite coffee shop which you always go to with Eijirou and Denki whenever you guys are here. Two said males smile once they notice and grin at one another. Cheerful chatter fills the air around the six of you. As you all reach the coffee shop you all order and sit down. You sit in between Eijirou and Denki, Bakugou sits in front of you, Ashido in front of Eijirou and Sero in front of Denki.

''This is so exciting.'' Sshido gushes as she takes a sip of her drink.

''Mhm, I finally have faces with the voices and names.'' You smile as you take a sip as well.

''Yeah, that is nice. We should totally exchange numbers though. That way we can talk without having to play.'' Denki chimes in.

You all keep talking while eating and drinking. Once you all finish Eijirou pays and you all start walking around, walking into random shops and buying random things. As you're looking at some books together with Eijirou and Denki you feel someone stare at you intently, so you look behind you and lock eyes with Bakugou's burning gaze.

''Pebble, something wrong?'' Eijirou asks worried.

''Bakugou is staring at us rather intensely.'' You mumble as you keep staring at him.

''Then ask him what's wrong.'' Denki shrugs as he grabs another book.

You simply nod and walk over to Bakugou, never once breaking eye contact. He doesn't move towards you or away from you as he follows you with his eyes. As you reach him you stand in front of him and look up slightly seeing he's taller than you. He glares down at you, eyes burning with something you can't quiet place.

''Something wrong Bakugou?''

''Why the fuck are you so close with Shitty hair and Dunce face?''

''Can't I be?''

''You fucking can, but it's different. Soy sauce and Pinky are close as well, but you three are acting fucking off.''

''Not everyone is the same Bakugou.'' You deadpan with a soft sigh.

''Just fucking tell me, do you already know the other extras?''

''I d-''

''Ie! Denki!'' You hear Eijirou exclaim, causing you to look back.

You see Denki laughing as he runs off with Eijirou chasing him, a playful yet annoyed look on his face. Sighing you walk away from Bakugou and towards your two idiotic boyfriends. First you grab Denki by the back off his collar, causing him to yelp. Next you do the same with Eijirou. They both look at you sheepishly as you sigh.

''Behave.''

''Yes.'' They both reply.

You nod and let the both of them go. They sigh in relief, but that's short lived as you hit the both of them at the back of the head. They both yelp in pain and rub the back of their heads as they weakly glare at you. You simply smile at them and ruffle their hair. You hear someone stomp over and look behind you to see Bakugou.

''Fucking spit it out!'' He barks as he glares dagers at the three of you.

''Spit what out?'' Eijirou and Denki ask confused.

''Do you guys fucking know each other?''

''Of course, we all game together.'' Denki asks, confused at the question.

''That's not what he means. He means if we know each other outside of the gaming.'' You explain, not looking at him but Bakugou.

''Ah, yeah we do.'' Denki smiles obliviously.

''Denki.'' Both you and Eijirou groan, he can be too dumb for his own good sometimes.

''What did I do?'' He asks worried.

''We promised to meet up all at once and not separately, remember?'' Eijirou asks him.

''Ohhh, right. We did promise that.'' Denki mumbles. ''Oopsie.''

''Dunce face!'' Bakugou barks.

''Back off Bakugou. He might be an idiot, but he's our idiot.'' You say in a low, threatening voice.

''YOU'RE ALL PIECES OFF SHIT!! FUCKING LIARS!! I FUCKING HATE ALL OF YOU!! NEVER FUCKING SPEAK TO ME AGAIN!!'' Bakugou yells as he stomps off and out of the store.

''Well, that happened.'' You mumble, but as you look at your boyfriends you see their teary eyes.

''Ei? Denki?'' You ask as you walk closer.

''He hates us......We promised to always be there and....Now he hates us.'' Eijirou mumbles as he looks at you with sad eyes.

''Ohh, Ei, he'll turn around.'' You shush him softly as you hug him.

''He won't. He's the reason Ear Jack isn't in the group anymore. She kept canceling whenever we decided to all come online and Bakugou blew up on her.'' Denki mumbles as tears fill his eyes to the brim.

''I'm sorry. I didn't know.'' You whisper as you pull him into the hug as well.

''What happened here?'' Ashido asks worried.

''Bakugou blew up on us. Something about hating us and never wanting to talk to us again.'' You explain, holding your boyfriends close.

''I see. Well, it was nice knowing you guys. Bye.'' Sero says as he waves and walks off.

''Bye.''

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

''Come one guys, cheer up a bit.'' You whisper as you look at your two sad boyfriends.

''We lost our friend, Pichu.'' Denki mumbles as his eyes fill with tears again.

''He hates us. We failed him.'' Eijirou mumbles as he hugs himself close.

They've been like this for two weeks now and it isn't helping you either. You were the one who suggested meeting up in the first place, only the three of you. 'If I didn't ask them to meet up with me, just us, non of this would have happened. This is my fault.' You think as you walk out of Eijirou's house where Denki has been staying since that day.

You walk to the park and google Bakugou's number, finding some social media pages linked to it. After a bit you see a house, with a house number. He's standing in front of the house together with a green haired guy who seems to be the same age. You recognize the buildings and start walking to the neighborhood where those houses stand.

As you walk around you try to find his house, different scenarios running through your mind. After a while you see the house and walk up to it. Sighing you ring the doorbell and wait. After a bit a female version of Bakugou opens the door. You assume it's his mom. She looks at you in shock before smiling brightly.

''Hello, what can I do for you?'' She asks sweetly.

''I’m here for Bakugou. I'm a friend of his and I want to talk to him.'' You explain.

''Come in. KATSUKI!!'' She yells as she turns away from you and walks into the house.

''WHAT YOU OLD HAG?!?!'' Bakugou's voice yells back.

''THERE'S SOMEONE HERE FOR YOU!! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!!'' She turns back to you and smiles. ''You can sit in the living room.''

''I'll stand right here, ma'am.'' You smile with a slight bow of your head.

You hear feet stomp down the stairs and look up, seeing and annoyed Bakugou stomping down them. Once he sees you his look turns even more annoyed and even angry. You look at him with a neutral face as the mom walks into the kitchen after excusing herself. Bakugou walks over to you with a burning glare.

''What the fuck are you doing here?'' He hisses.

''It was my idea. I suggested to meet up, just the three of us. I asked if you guys ever met up and they said no. It was my idea. Don't punish them for my mistake.'' You state, meeting his gaze and holding it.

''And why the fuck would I believe you?'' He asks in a skeptical voice.

''I have no reason to lie to you. Eijirou and Denki are hurting, they're devastated that they lost you. Hate me all you want, god you can wish me death, but at least accept them into the games. You don't have to be buddy buddy with them, but they need you.''

''Bullshit.''

''Believe what you want. Deep down you know they're devastated and that it was never their intention to hurt you like this. I caught them off guard and got us to meet, it was my idea. That's all I have to say. Do with it what you want. I'll be leaving now. Bye.'' You say as you turn to the door and walk out.

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

The doorbell of your house rings, causing you to frown. You walk over to the door you open it and see Bakugou, causing your frown to deepen. You open the door and let him in. He walks past you, takes off his shoes and walks deeper into the house, eventually sitting down on the couch. You follow after him, frown not leaving.

''What are you doing here?'' You ask as you sit down on a chair facing the couch.

''Where are Shitty hair and Dunce face?''

''At Eijirou's house. They haven't left it after that day.''

''Shitty hair has his own house?'' Bakugou asks surprised, although he doesn't really show it.

''Yeah, me and Eijirou have our own houses. Denki still lives at home just like you.''

''Get them to come over.''

''Okay.'' You take your phone out of your pocket and call Eijirou, putting the phone on speaker, causing Bakugou to frown.

''Pebble, we are not going outside and coming over. You know we aren't in the mood.'' Eijirou's tired voice mumbles after two rings.

''I know, Ei. I know.'' You whisper as your eyes sadden.

''Then why did you call?'' Denki mumbles as you glance at Bakugou who looks shocked.

''There is someone here who would like to talk to you guys.'' You sigh as you hand the phone to Bakugou. ''Hurt them and I hurt you. I'll be at the store. I'll be back in half an hour.''

Bakugou nods as you walk over to the door, put on your shoes and leave. Bakugou looks at the phone as Eijirou and Denki keep calling for you and asking who it is. Bakugou takes a deep breath and shakes his head to get rid of the thoughts. By now it's silent on the other end.

''Is it fucking true it was their idea?''

''....Bakugou?'' The both of them ask softly.

''Answer the fucking question.'' Bakugou groans in annoyance.

''It was. They suggested to meet up. Why are you at their place? I thought you hated us and wanted nothing to do with us.'' Eijirou mumbles defeated.

''They came to my fucking house four days ago and explained it was their idea, not fucking yours. I just wanted to fucking make sure.''

''Okay.'' They mumble softly.

''Oi.''

''Yeah?''

''Sorry or whatever. You guys can join games again and text or whatever. And don't make me fucking regret that shit.''

''We won't!'' The both of them cheer.

The three of them talk until you come home. You're glad to hear their cheerful voices over the phone. Bakugou looks at you with his usual scowl and holds the phone out to you. You shake your head, walk over and mute yourself. Bakugou frowns and it only deepens when he sees your teary eyes.

''This is all my fault. Here is Eijirou's address, you can go there and talk to them face to face if you want. Don't bother coming here again. I'll take responsibility for what I did.'' You whisper as you take the phone, unmute it and take a deep breath. ''Bakugou is on his way to you guys, bye.''

''What the fuck are you doing?'' Bakugou asks as he gets up and stares down at you.

''The right thing.'' You whisper as you walk over to your bedroom and close the door behind you.

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

Over the next two weeks you cry a lot, ignore Eijirou's and Denki's texts and calls and when they're at the door you also don't respond. You know you're worrying them, but you can't bring yourself to face them after everything you made them go through. they were heartbroken when Bakugou broke off contact.

''OPEN THE FUCK UP!!'' You hear Bakugou bark as he bangs on your door violently.

''Go away.'' You mumble before walking away from the door.

''I SAID OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!''

''Just go away! Leave me alone! I deserve it! I hurt them so much! It's all my fault!'' You exclaim as tears stream down your face.

''BULLSHIT!! OPEN THE DOOR!!''

''NO!! LEAVE ME ALONE!! I DON'T DESERVE THEM!! IF IT WASN'T FOR ME NON OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!! THEY WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN HURT LIKE THAT!!'' You exclaim as you fall to the ground.

''Fuck it.'' Is all the warning you get before you door falls to the ground. ''LISTEN HERE YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT!! YOU'RE FUCKING HURTING THEM RIGHT NOW!! MAN THE FUCK UP AND TALK TO THEM!!''

''No!''

''GOD DAMNED IT DON'T BE FUCKING STUBBORN!! YOU'RE ALL FUCKING HURTING!!'' He yells as he walks over and grabs your collar, lifting you up so you're face to face. ''Fucking talk to them. This shit isn't helping. Go over to Shitty hair's house and fucking talk to them.''

''I can't.'' You whisper in defeat as a sob escapes. ''I can't! I can't bring myself to do it! Whenever I see their picture flash across my screen I fucking break down! I can't!''

''Fuck it.'' Bakugou grumbles before slinging you over his shoulder.

You eyes widen in shock as Bakugou walks over to the door and steps over it, walking out off your apartment. You trash in his hold and yell at him to let you go as you sob and hit his back. He just stays silent as he walks to Eijirou's house. Once he reaches it he harshly knocks on the door, by now you're just limply hanging on his shoulder.

''Hey, wh-(y/n)? Bakugou?'' Eijirou asks confused. ''What is this?''

''Let me the fuck in.''

''Of course.''

Eijirou steps aside and Bakugou walks in, heading to the living room after kicking off his shoes. He throws you onto the couch and walks out of the house again. You just lay motionless on the couch with your face buried in the cushions. Denki and Eijirou stare at you with worry and confusion as they sit on the chairs facing the couch.

''Pichu?'' Denki whispers softly, breaking the tens and awkward silence.

''Pebble, talk to us please.'' Eijirou pleads softly.

''It's my fault. All of this is my fault.'' You mumble as you push yourself up and hug your legs to your chest.

''What do you mean, Pichu?''

''If I hadn't asked you guys to meet up non of this would have happened.''

''We could have said no to your offer, we're just as much at fault.'' Eijirou says in a caring voice.

''I surprised you guys.''

'Iis this why you've been ignoring us?'' Denki whispers softly as he gets up and walks over.

''I just feel so guilty and I....I feel like I don't deserve this.'' You mumbles as you glance at him with teary eyes.

''You do deserve this, Pebble. We don't hold any of this against you and we never will. I get why you feel like this, but there is no reason for you to feel like this.'' Eijirou says with a gentle smile as he walks over.

''You promise?'' You almost whimper.

''We promise. Now are we good again?''

''Yeah.''

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undertaker1827 · 4 years

Note

hi ! headcanons for seby a kind s/o who has a crush on him will ignore him after knowing what he've done with beast in the circus, she'll be depressed, crying, but after when he'll try to talk to her, she'll slap him hardly crying "you broke my heart, i loved you why you do that to me ? "( thank you sorry for my bad english xd and good luck 💜)

Of course!! Your English isn’t bad at all, hope you enjoy! Also! Angst. Obviously

EDIT; Part Two

Masterlist

Alright, so lets start off by saying that obviously Sebastian didn’t want you to find out

He knew how you felt about him and he cared for you too, but it was imperative that this circus troupe were stopped and it had become more than clear that this was going to be the only way to do it

Unfortunately, Ciel and by extension his duties as the Queen’s Guard Dog had to come first

Let’s be real though, that is like zero consolation and everyone knows it

He knew what he did would hurt you if you found out, but in all honesty he didn’t think you would be able to

In fact, he was quite impressed you’d managed it

Of course he didn’t say that to you, you were already upset enough

He knew you’d found out as soon as he saw you

Your eyes were still slightly bloodshot from crying too long and you were curled up on the sofa, defiantly reusing to even acknowledge the demon’s presence

He tries to approach you, walking slowly to avoid startling you and quietly saying your name

Without hesitation, you lean forward to pick up the tea sitting on the table in front of you and just walk away

You look straight past the demon, refusing to allow your tears to fall and not giving him a chance to say a word

He sighed silently but decided pushing you now wasn’t the best idea

You were going to have to talk to him at some point and he’d really rather it was sooner than later, but that was clearly not going to be the case for you

You on the other hand had managed to avoid Sebastian for most of the rest of the day and were quite pleased with yourself for doing it

Of course you realised you had only avoided him because he hadn’t put any real effort into preventing it

That was until the evening, when you were once again curled up on the sofa as he entered the room, quietly saying your name and asking to talk

You tried to do the same thing as before, aiming at just waking past him

He wasn’t going to let that happen twice

Smoothly, he caught your arm as you went past

He was gentle, but firm enough that you couldn’t just shake off his grip

You swallowed once, steeling yourself before turning to face him

You met his gaze with a cold glare, doing your best to cover up how truly upset you were

“Y/N, please can we talk?”

You moved your other hand in a silent ‘go on’ gesture

You didn’t know what excuses he was going to come up with and really you didn’t care, but you knew this conversation would have to happen at some point

H launched straight into it, starting with an apology (which you might even have considered heartfelt, had you not known better) and then explaining that everything had been for a case, for the sake of getting information to help Ciel fulfil his duty to the queen

You can feel your anger and sadness rising again and your eyes are beginning to line with tears, but you push on regardless

“And you mean to tell me,” you hiss out in a disbelieving tone, “that there was no other way?”

“Believe me, we exhausted every other method available to us. This was a last resort, a long shot at best”

You nod, albeit sarcastically, then ask, “And you did that work out for you?”

“We acquired all of the information we needed and the troupe were properly seen to, so yes we were successful” was his succinct reply

You blink a few times, nod once more then spit out “well good for you”

With that you rip your arm from his grip and spin away on your heel

Behind you, Sebastian narrows his eyes in annoyance then grabs your arm, only this time when you turn to face him, you use the momentum he provided to slap him hard across the face

The demon stopps dead and with the force you had used to hit him, there was already a bright red mark blossoming across almost half his face

He looks absolutely shocked, albeit not in pain, but his hold on your wrist doesn’t loosen any

When you lock eyes with him, you are sobbing, unable to keep it in any longer

“Y/N...” he whispers, though what he was going to say you didn’t know and you didn’t care

“You broke my heart!” You cry out, uselessly twisting your wrist in an attempt to make him let go, “I loved you”

You don’t miss the way his eyes flash at the use of past tense, but you carry on anyway

“Why would you do that to me?” The last comes out as a whisper, your voice cracking a little

He tries to say the same thing again, about the case and the string of child abductions, but it’s all falling on deaf ears

He still keeps ahold of your wrist as you try to walk away and you turn back to him once more

“Let go, Sebastian.”

There’s something in the way you spoke and he does as you say, watching as you walk out of the room, away from him

#sebastian michaelis #black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian #sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler sebastian #black butler sebastian x reader #kuroshitsuji sebastian x reader #kuroshitsuji sebastian #manga #anime #black butler anime #black butler manga #black butler reader inserts

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dinandgone · 3 years

Text

The Snap

Prologue to the ‘Blood and Beskar’ series

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

The Mandalorian x fem!Reader (eventual)

Warnings: None apart from a sneaky Mandalorian.

Word count - 1k

A/n ~ so this is my first Pedro fic but it’s going to be like a slow burn because I wanted to be really indulgent I mean if nobody reads it then it’s not really a problem. I just wanted to do something that I haven’t really read with the reader being a bounty hunter on the run idk. This prologue is just a bit of insight into the reader and a headstart to the next chapter. So enjoy, feedback is always welcome :)

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This was not the plan. The plan wasn’t to run and hide on a desolate outer rim planet. You were better than that. But recent events left you little to no choice in the matter. Fair enough, it was your fault for trusting anyone but yourself in this godforsaken galaxy. But you needed the credits. And along with desperation comes room for error.

In your case it was a big error.

An error that landed you a wanted criminal. A sizable bounty on your head.

Though things looked bleak you had your skills that you’d obtained over the years from the bounty hunting profession. Thinking outside the box, best places to hide, what to look out for and whatnot. Given, Felucia probably wasn’t the best place to hide but your options were limited, you needed a place that had a population but not big enough to make it easy for you to be found.

You sighed, drawing your knees to your chest as you remain lost in thought. Sweat dripping down your skin, shirt soaked and clinging to your frame. The climate was bearable, much better than the extremes of Tatooine or Hoth. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the vibrant colours of the market or the buzz of the cantina back home. You chuckled at the thought of attempting to even set foot on Nevarro - the bounty hunters hive. You were sure it would make many of its inhabitants happy at the thought of you dead. You’d pissed a few people off in your time as a bounty hunter, it was a given for the profession, all they needed was an excuse and now they had it.

Snap

The sudden break of a branch pulls you from thought your eyes shooting to the source of the noise, you stand with your hand trained on your holster the other ghosting the knife strapped to your thigh. You knew staying in one place for a period of time was never a good idea. Being on the run always meant you had to be alert and keep moving. You scan your surroundings for tell tale signs, movement or disruption in the foliage. But there was nothing but the soft sounds of light rainfall and wildlife. You still felt it, sending shivers straight to your spine. Something. Someone was watching.

You waited with bated breaths, eyes scanning the area waiting for an attack, but it never came. The feeling of uneasiness being quelled slightly from the lack of disturbance in the trees around you. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper nights rest in a real bed without the constant worry of waking up to a blaster in the face, even then the nightmares proved to make sleeping difficult. Realising you’d been stood in the same spot the entire time, you shift your boots from making a home firmly in the muddy forest floor. Sighing you moved you pick up your bag, you needed to get moving before it got dark. Your limbs ached in protest and your eyes strained from the constant wary focus on your surroundings. Every now and again you turn thinking you can hear movement behind you but each time nothing, the same old sounds of rainfall. You put it down to your head working overtime to keep exhaustion at bay. You could only focus on how your clothes rubbed your skin, the excess dirt and grime creating more friction. Oh how you missed the luxuries of having a fresher. Those luxuries had disappeared along with your ship as a result of a damaging game of Sabacc on Tatooine. You winced at the memory of the slimy Twi’lek grinning at you as he placed his winning hand on the table. Lucky bastard left with your ship and a hefty sum of credits. Why you thought you’d be able to bluff your way into winning a game of Sabacc you didn’t know, maybe it was because you were inherently drunk but it had cost you your ship and damaged your ego in the process.

“Never touching a drop of Spotchka again” you grumbled to yourself, reflecting on how much you missed your ship.

The sound of approaching footsteps disrupted your disgruntled ramblings. Spinning on your heel blaster in hand raising it to face the owner of the footsteps. An woman with a small cart stopped in her tracks, eyes wide and hands in the air.

“Can I help you?” You questioned steadying your feet in place

“Please don’t shoot! I’ve been walking behind you for a while you look like you’re exhausted, I wondered if you needed somewhere to stay for the night?” her response hurried and panicked. “My town is about twenty minutes north of here along the dirt track, if you want to follow me?”

You lowered your blaster, sliding it smoothly back into its holster, hand still hovering in place. The exhaustion was creeping in, you could tell that from the fact you hadn’t even noticed the trailing footsteps behind you. You glanced at her again, no sign of a blaster or weapon, if she did try anything you could easily overpower her. The promise of somewhere dry to stay for the night and the possibility of food focused your attention. Just one night and then you’d continue to plan your next move.

“Thank you, that is very kind.” you nodded, gesturing her to show you the way.

She continued forward cart in hand talking about herself and her village. A brief flash of reflected light in the dense forest, caught your eye as you turned to follow her. Her voice drowning into a faint mumble as you tried to zero in on any signs of movement. Stopping dead in your tracks, you tried to focus your eyes on the vast treeline aiming to pinpoint where you had seen it, but as you blinked the light disappeared as quickly as it had caught your attention. The same uneasy feeling from earlier snaking its way back up your spine sending chills across your body. You listening and scoured intently, for any further movement but the landscape remained the same. The rest of your surroundings came back into focus, the woman’s chatter once again flowing through the air. You turned and hurried to catch up just in time to re enter the conversation with the woman asking your name.

“Y/N” you replied warily looking over your shoulder “its Y/N”

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the mandalorian x you #mando smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #mando x reader

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thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Mismatch- Part 15

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Time for Batman to regret all his life decisions!

First< Previous > Next

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“Are you sure you're ready for patrol,” Marinette presses, Marion tries not to roll his eyes once again.

“Yes Nette my ribs are perfectly fine, I can manage,” Marion pulls up his mask, hiding away in an alley not far from the hospital, “besides I need to let off some steam from yesterday,”

“Punching people is no way to deal with your emotions,” Marinette scolds, hiding the Kwamis away in her small bag.

“Of course not,” Marion makes sure the miracle box is in place before swinging his satchel over his back, “Kicking can do far more damage,”

“You don’t deserve an answer for that one,” Marinette sighs, handing over his glasses, “Just make a portal already,”

“Absolutely not,” Kaalki flies out of her bag, “I refuse to be a taxi you can easily get there on your own,”

“Kaalki, the meeting point is halfway across the city,” Marion pleads, the Kwami only turns her nose up at him, “What are we meant to do? Take an actual taxi?”

“I can't believe we’re taking a taxi to meet the Batman for patrol,” Marinette mutters, as Marion tries to hail a cab.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Marion scoffs, another cab surprisingly passing up the opportunity to drive two masked figures late at night, “We’re taking a taxi to a block away from the meeting point, only amateurs give away their position like that,”

“Really not my point,” Marinette adjusts her bag strap.

“Maybe we can ask Batman if we can keep the grappling hooks?” Marion suggests, a cab pulling up to the curve.

“We’d still have to go a long way, it’s not like our suits where we get increased stamina,” Marinette opens the door, sliding into the car before it can’t leave without them, telling the driver the destination.

“Oh the days where we could get across the city in five minutes,” Marion sighs dreamily, ignoring the balding drivers' sideways glance as he pulls away.

“You mean yesterday?” Marinette teases, sitting behind the driver.

“Really? Feels like a week,” Marion leans back in the seat, cringing at the smell of cigarette smoke.

“You two heroes, rogues or villains?” The driver interrupts, sizing them up in the mirror.

“Is there a price difference?” Marion questions, quirk to his lips.

“Sure is,” The driver grunts, eyes still uncertain if there were any ill intentions.

“Do I have to guess which one?” Marion gets elbowed by Marinette.

“Stop that,” She digs her elbow in further, “We’re vigilantes passing through town, running with Batman for the time being,”

“So he’s gone and picked up new kids?” The driver snorts, finally taking his eyes off them.

“We’re not his kids,” Marinette assures, nope no more surprise parents for them thank you.

“Not more Robins? you’ve got the colors,” The driver says gruffly, sharp corner sending them both off balance.

“Unfortunately only Sparrow here wears tights,” Marion gestures to Marinette, “I just don’t fit the bill,”

“Sparrow?” The driver repeats cynically, he should have heard the ones Batman shot down.

“Yeah she has a codename, but I still can’t decide mine, any ideas,” Marion leans over the passenger seat in front of him.

“You’re asking me?” He snorts, Marinette just shakes her head.

“Always looking for public opinion,” Marion shrugs, only getting a sideways glance his way.

“Bat boy,” The driver decides, Marion stifles a laugh.

“Wow, that's terrible,” Marion doesn’t catch himself in time to stop, but adds, “No offence,”

“You’re going to have to look elsewhere for creativity, boy,” The driver shrugs, not seeming bothered by his bluntness.

“What do you think of Shelley?” Marion does get a look his way this time, grinning at it.

“Shelley?”

“Yeah as in the Shelley Starling, small, blue and orange, from Africa,” Apparently Marion's extra details do nothing to convince him.

“You want to be called Shelley?”

“Yeah can’t you just picture it, ‘Batman and Shelley save the day’,” Marion gestures to an imaginary headline.

“And you thought Bat Boy was bad,” The driver shakes his head, trying to hide his amusement, “Do whatever you want kid,”

“Can I tell Batman I got your approval?” Marion grins, leaning further into the drivers space.

“Don’t bring me into this,” His gruff tone doesn’t hide his smile as he slows to a stop, “Now get out,”

“Thank you very much sir, sorry about him,” Marinette pushes Marion out of the car, handing over what they owed him

“Just call me Norris, see ya round, Sparrow... Shelley,” Marion beams at him, Norris shaking his head but smiling none the less.

“Bye!” Marion waves as the car drives away, “I like him, what are the chances we see him again?”

“Zero,” Marinette predicts, walking towards the meeting point.

“Where have you two been?” Batman demands more than asks the second they land on the rooftop.

“Hospital,”

“Family business,”

“....”

“Well, we’re clearly not telepathic,” Marion bumps their shoulders, moving to stand next to Batman.

“Sorry, about missing patrol, it's been… hectic the last few days,” Marinette explains, both hoping they won't pry further.

“Right... Sparrow you’re with me on a stake out,” Batman declares, turning to Marion, “You’re with Nightwing and Robin,”

“You got it,” Marion does a mocking salute, turning on his heels towards them.

As he reacquaints himself with the grappling hook, he gets the run down from Nightwing on where their patrol will go. Marion suspected it wasn't their regular patrol route as they start swinging across the city. He says hi to Oracle and Spoiler on the comms. Disappointed that Red Hood wasn't there tonight, but on the plus side he was less likely to get stabbed… or crash through another window.... or fall off a building.... or-

“There's a mugging three blocks to the east,” Oracle informs, the three of them immediately changing their route.

“We still need to decide on your codename,” Nightwing pipes up, once they start a steady pace towards the mugging.

“Not again,” Robin mutters, Marion grins catching himself in free fall.

“I have a few ideas,” And then because he can’t help himself, “Robin what do you think?”

“Tt, you should take this more seriously, so as not to seem like a complete fool,” Robin scoffs, landing perfectly on the edge of a building, a mugger holding another man at gun point just below.

“Hm, it's a bit long for a codename,” Marion drops down into the alley with them, landing on a garbage skip without a sound, “How about just Fool?”

The mugger turns around, startling at Marion and Robin blocking his exit, Robin scowls, hand twitching towards his katana. Either because of the mugger raising his gun or Marion is undecided.

“Maybe not,” Nightwing stands between the Mugger and the victim. Concerned look apparently deciding Robin’s scowl was aimed at him after all. “What were you thinking?”

If he was trying to redirect the conversation away from murder, boy did he choose a bad way to do it.

“Pterodactyl,” Marion grins as the mugger can’t decide who to point his gun at.

“Why!” Robin spins to him, catching Marion's full attention.

“I don’t know,” Marion shrugs, unconcerned with the mugger pointing at him edging forward, “Their closest living relatives are birds, right?”

“That doesn't mean-” Robin lunges forward as the mugger tries to escape.

“-You act like an immature child,” Robin insults, moving to disarm the gun, “Completely lacking professionalism, you actually sang while apprehending criminals,”

“I see it as more a testament to my skill that I can multitask,” Marion dismisses, coming up behind the mugger as Robin distracts him.

“You were almost stabbed several times,” The whites of the domino mask narrow, removing the gun from the mugger's grip.

“And yet I won without a scratch,” Marion sends back a smirk, grabbing the hand that goes to punch Robin taking the mugger off guard, Robin kicks him to the ground.

“If you like singing, how about Songbird?” Nightwing attempts to interrupt Robin’s likely plans to change his ‘without a scratch’ claim.

“I don’t know, there's a taxi driver I met who’s really attached to Shelley,” Marion tries not to give away his excitement at how perfect the name is.

“I’m sure he’ll survive,” Robin deadpans, zip tying the muggers hands as he struggles.

“Hm… sure sounds good,” Marion shrugs, almost bouncing with excitement, This is gonna be fun .

“Then I guess congratulations are in order, Songbird,” Nightwing slings an arm around him, ruffling his hair.

“You hear that?” Marion looks down at the mugger, “Now you get to tell the Police who took you down,”

“Robin?” The man asks, smug smirk on Robin's face.

Songbird steps out of Nightwing's hold. Picks up the mugger easily, as he shouts and struggles in his grasp. It takes slightly more effort to throw him into the open garbage skip next to them, letting the mugger land on the piles of trash.

“Tt, are you a complete child?” Robin scoffs, having to look up at him.

“Really? What are you like nine?” Songbird smirks at his irritation, ignoring the crook yelling.

“ No I am not ,” Robin hisses.

“Sorry, eight,” Songbird’s instincts tell him to take a few steps back, he doesn't listen.

“That wasn’t very professional,” Nightwing’s disapproval showing through his expression, Marion can’t quite shake off the feeling of a disappointed big brother.

“Hm? What? Oh!” He looks towards the mugger that's still shouting at him, whatever, professionalism was for Ladybug, “Oh no I dropped them! I was carrying them with the utmost care then I went and accidentally dropped them!”

Songbird smacks his forehead, schooling the grin off his face. In much the same way Nightwing is clearly trying to.

“I’m such a klutz- let me try and get them out,” Marion slams the lid shut with an echoing bang, “Oh no! My bad, how can I be so uncoordinated? Whatever will I do now!”

“You are strange,” Robin informs, sending out his grappling hook.

“Thank you, it’s a goal of mine,” Songbird bows, sirens can be heard in the distance now.

He double checks the victim that Nightwing has been covering. Smiling brightly at their slight smile. With a little wave he swings out the alley, following Nightwing and Robin.

After continuing on route for a while longer, stopping minor crimes they stop for a mid patrol snack.

“Number one rule don't stand on a ledge, I have poor impulse control and I will push you,” Marion warns before they sit down on the rooftop.

“What are you a cat?” Robin scowls, in the danger zone.

“Absolutely,” Marion’s grin is feral, Robin’s scowl deepens as he comes to join them.

“What is that?” Marion gasps in horror at the boring grey brick Robin unwraps.

“An energy bar, it’s more effective than your trash,” Robin scoffs, tucking the wrapper away.

“What do ya mean,” Nightwing and Songbird mumble out through mouthfuls of baked goods.

Robin presumably rolls his eyes under the mask. Leaning in to take a bite of the energy bar. Marion slaps it out his hand.

“Hey!” Robin shouts, as it drops to the ground.

“It touched Gotham, it’s contaminated now,” Marion shrugs, giving Robin pause before he picks it back up.

“I am resistant to a few germs,” Robin says condescendingly, picking the bar back up.

“In Gotham ?” Marion stresses, making him pause again, looking consideringly at the before throwing it away.

He brings out another identical one. Marion doesn't even let him unwrap it before he makes a grab for it. Robin’s expecting it this time and jerks it out of his reach. However years with the miraculous has enhanced his reflexes, Marion’s other hand snatching it. With a little enhanced strength Marion throws it over the edge of the building into the street.

“So what I can’t eat?” Robin bites, hand moving towards his katana.

“Of course you can,” Marion holds out a macaron, “Here,”

“Absolutely not,” Robin glares, Nightwing leaning back to watch the exchange.

“It’s good,” Marion goads, shifting closer.

“I’ve had enough of Nightwing's overly sweet patrol snacks to know that is not true,” Robin scoffs, even as Marion moves close enough that he must be able to smell the treat.

“Yes but this is mine and I know for a fact it’s good enough for the gods,” Except for one particularly picky god who once made him attempt camembert macarons. Needless to say, no one else liked them.

“You overestimate yourself,” Robin scoffs, turning away from Marion, he’d bet to try and avoid the tantalising smell.

“Prove me wrong,” Marion challenges, and can tell from the shift in body language he had him.

With one last glare, Robin snatches the macaron. Regarding it skeptically.

“How do I know it’s not poisoned,”

“Oh for the love of-” Marion takes it back, breaking it in half rather than biting.

He hands one half back and eats the other. Robin doesn't take a bite before he stops chewing. Marion opens his mouth to show the mushed up food for good measure.

“Tt, disgusting,” Robin sneers, turning away to eat the last half, “... this is not,”

“Not what?” Marion teases, despite having a soft smile at Robin's expression, before it turns to a scowl.

“It is better than the trash Nightwing eats,” Robin concedes, too late, he had already given himself away.

“Hey!” Nightwing exclaims, but Marion moves quick as a cat to stuff a macaron in his left open mouth. He startles, before chewing, “... alright… never mind…. Wow,”

Marion hands Nightwing another before he has to ask, getting a downright envious look from Robin. With a smile Marion breaks another macaron in half, handing the bigger half to Robin. He takes it, biting it in half again, clearly trying to control his features to seem indifferent, and failing.

“It’s so good to see you actually enjoying something,” Nightwing pulls Robin into a hug, the latter scowling but not moving away. Marion grin widens, getting Robbin to narrow his eyes.

“What?” He demands, completely failing at being threatening while getting cuddled.

“Nothing,” Marion’s smile suggests otherwise, “Are you two brothers?”

The both startle at the question, shifting slightly away from each other. As if they were about to give away their identities.

“... yes,” Robin admits, faint blush would probably go unnoticed by someone without pseudo-night vision.

“Awe! Little D!” Nightwing brings him back into a much tighter hug, that Robin does try to get out of.

“Lets’ go,” Robin stands, blush probably visible even without night vision.

Marion grins, apparently teasing enough that Robin feels the need to defend himself. They argue and tease as they swing off into the night to resume patrol.

Marinette shifts, joints popping after being crouched for so long. Stake outs weren’t her typical affair as Ladybug but it seemed Sparrow will need to get used to them. She and Batman don’t talk, both focusing on the building below watching for activity. The silence makes the chatter on the comms all the more louder.

“We still need to decide on your codename,”

Marinette tries to hold back a laugh when Batman reaches up to turn off his comm faster than even she ever could as Ladybug. She follows suit, not wanting to burst out laughing when they were meant to be hidden. Marinette tries to stay focused on the warehouse in front of them but the architecture of nearby buildings has her itching to grab her sketchbook.

“Why did you ask me to join the stake out?” She asks Batman, before she gives into the urge to vent her designs.

“Do you honestly think he would sit still,” The avoidance of any codename doesn't go unnoticed by her.

“No he wouldn't,” She smiles, mischief dancing in her eyes, “You just didn’t want to put up with codename again did you?”

She only gets a grunt in response, making her smile widen. Before long she's bored again. That short exchange can only sustain her for so long, sitting still on a cold Gotham rooftop. This wasn’t what she wanted to do tonight, it was meant to be a way to release energy not gather it sitting still all day and night. Marion was out in the city forgetting about his problems, letting them fall as he leapt from building to building. She was meant to be doing the same. In free fall, focusing on the next building to catch her rather than how to adjust to her new chaotic family.

“Who trained you?” Batman questions, halting Marinette's fidgeting, “Robin wouldn’t stop talking about it after your last patrol,”

That was strange. At the time he had seemed mad she took down all the gang members before he got the chance. Maybe that was just his default state.

“I was trained by master- my master I was trained by my master,” Marinette breaks herself out of her thoughts, stumbling over words.

“Was?” Batman prods, Now looking towards her, and thankfully ignoring her stuttering.

“Yeah, he… left about four years ago,” Marinette considers her words. It’s not that she didn’t trust Batman, but secret identities were so for a reason and any detail could reveal them to the worlds greatest detective.

“When did he start teaching you?” At least it didn’t seem like he was directly trying to figure out her identity, and it was nice to have a distraction. Even if it was just more talking, at least it was talking about something else.

“He never really taught us, per say, our city needed us so we stepped up,” After some hesitation on her part, but Marion had dragged her along anyway, not letting her give up for even a second, “He guided us from afar for a while until we needed to meet him,”

“You were protecting a whole city alone?” Batman's concern is not easily ignored.

“Not alone, we have each other,” Marinette corrects, plus sometimes other miraculous holders, but that would be giving away a bit too much, “We’re still protecting it, that's why we missed patrol, it’s not like we could have just quit, our home needs protection,”

It was partly true, they did leave to protect paris last time.

“.... It seems I’ve underestimated you,” Batman admits, glaring at the skyline “Clearly you are more…. Responsible than I assumed,”

You don’t know the half of it , Marinette thinks, smiling to herself. The silence they fall back into is a peaceful one. Marinette tries to ignore her thoughts, clearing her head to focus on the task at hand. She is just starting to master her thoughts when trucks pulls up, several people jumping out, working together to carry crates stacked in the trucks.

“I’ll call in the others,” Batman whispers, as more people come out to meet them, about thirty people so far with possibly more inside.

Marinette clicks her comm back on to hear the echo of Batman’s voice telling Marion's group to head their way. Within ten minutes Marion, Nightwing and Robin have joined them on the roof, studying the last of the crates being carried inside.

“We'll go in ahead, Sparrow you and your partner wait for my signal and be prepared as backup,” Batman instructs, preparing to jump across the street.

“Songbird,” Marion interrupts, Batman’s gaze snapping to him, “Decided on a codename,”

“That's… acceptable,” Batman concedes, Marion's grin growing manic.

Without another word the three bats swing across the street, crashing through the warehouse windows. She turns off the communicator so they can’t hear them but they can still hear Batman.

“I’m surprise you went with something- at least for you- normal,” Marinette doesn't take her eyes off the flashes of gunfire and shouting coming from inside, “I mean I know singing is your thing and everything, but still,”

“Dear Sister you underestimate me,” Marinette doesn't need to look at him to know what kind of face he’s making, “For you see I have a master plan, so grand it will make my name known to all,”

“And make Batman regret inviting us?” Marinette guesses, eyebrow raised.

“And make Batman regret inviting us,” Marion parrots, smile evident in his tone, “Do you have a speaker?”

Batman knocks the gun out of the nearest criminals hand. An uppercut sending them to the floor for a while. He’s right in the thick of the crowd, back to back with Nightwing, while Robin picks off those on the outer edges.

“I’m going to bring them in,” Batman alerts Nightwing, His communicator off so they don’t come in early.

“Are you sure they can handle this?” Nightwing hits his attacker over the head, disorientating them, “Red Robin will be here soon, there's no need to put rookie’s at risk,”

“They are very capable,” Batman defends in both senses, blocking the oncoming punch.

If Sparrow was telling the truth, which he was sure she was, they had single handedly been protecting an entire city for years. Even if it wasn’t as crime ridden as Gotham it was clear from what little they have said that there is something more going on, perhaps a few villains. What is worse is how young they are. Not even Robin, who has been training all his life, was allowed to patrol by himself. From the sounds of it they could have very well been protecting an entire city single handedly at his age. They could certainly handle a thirty something gang members.

“Sparrow, Songbird, now,” Batman flicks on his communicator, getting confirmation.

Not a hint of fear at the prospect of barging into a heavily armed base. They certainly didn’t seem cocky, confident yes, but they have the skill to back it up. Despite everything, they knew how to take the job seriously and are responsible enough to treat it with care and respect.

The sound of glass shattering is almost drowned out by the sudden blast of music. Eerily familiar tune to a pirate movie Dick had once insisted they all watch together.

“Captain Jack Sparrow is here!” Sparrow hits the ground, landing a punch on the way down.

“Yo-ho Yo-ho A pirate's life for me!” Songbird… sings… of course. As he swings into the room disappearing into a cluster of criminals, not that anyone could mistake where he was as he keeps singing at the top of his lungs. "We pillage we plunder we rifle and loot!"

Batman pauses to watch like many other criminals. "Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"

Allies are standing, as confused as enemies at the strange scene. "We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot!"

Gunfire is drawn to Songbird, grinning ear to ear. "Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"

Batman catches Sparrow's eye, getting a cheeky grin and saluting in response.

“Um…” Nightwing trails off, taking down a thug that had the wherewithal to attack them as most criminals head towards the new… disruption.

“No Nightwing, not now,” Batman grits out, Nightwing backs off to go help Songbird who was getting surrounded. And. Still. Singing.

Batman just stands in the middle of the remaining crowd surrounding him. Absentmindedly taking down anyone who attacks him. Gaze practically locked on the two.

This behaviour... is completely unbecoming of any hero or vigilante.

Sparrow takes down a criminal with a flip that immediately had Nightwing next to her. Chatting as they continued the fight, seemingly experimenting with different styles with the others instructions. With all the criminals around him down he slowly approaches the few remaining that surrounded Songbird and Robin. The latter of which was telling him to stop singing to no avail.

"Um... whats going on here?" Batman doesn't jump at the sudden appearance of Red Robin no matter how much it caught him off guard, he must be more distracted than he thought.

“Just like you to show up when all the hard work’s done,” Robin sneers over at Red Robin.

“I wasn't the one that called for backup,” Red Robin says cooly, “Couldn’t you handle a few thugs?”

“Of course I can your presence here is unwanted as always,” Robin snaps, even as Red Robin takes down the last remaining criminal.

“Oh you two are definitely brothers,” Songbird grins, cutting off Red Robin's retort.

“Tt You are completely- How do you even come to such a inane conclusion,” Robin surprisingly falters, Songbird grinning wider.

“So you’re not?” Songbird pesters, not waiting for further denial, “Cause you seem to really like each other,"

They both start arguing with Songbird. The latter just listening and adding provocation whenever necessary. Easing them both into a teasing atmosphere, playfully more than hurtfully sending out insults.

Nightwing was now showing Sparrow a particular kick flip. All the criminals around them wisely staying still if they were conscious. The two stop to laugh wherever the others say something particularly ludicrous.

Batman watches them, training his years of discipline to keep a smile from tugging on his lips.

I suppose it can be a good thing.

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Taglist:

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#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #bio dad bruce wayne #Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020 #Mismatch #Marinette #marinette is mdc #twins au #vigilante au #pop star au #bio dad au #bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #b!dbwm2020 #Maribat #ml fic

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gamerdamemedia · 3 years

Text

Test Case

So, for a couple weeks now I made a fatal mistake for all fanfic writers: I watched something different that inspired a story idea, & I haven’t been able to get it out of my head & distracting me from other things. So, as I write to exorcise ideas from my head to make space, I decided to put pen to paper this afternoon... or fingers to keyboard, I guess, & write some of it out. Not sure I’ll actually ever share it, as it might stay just my personal pet project, but I figured I could at least share the start. Even writers needs a little side project just for their own enjoyment. Now that studying is done & I’m back from vacation, hopefully I can get back to some regular schedule. I’ve been out of sorts during this crunch time before the big test.

In the grand scheme of the cosmos, freezing to death while drifting along the Etherium wasn't the worst way to go. She could think of many worse ways to die after being spaced. She could fall into the vacuum of space and suffocate, or stray too close to a star and get pulled in by its gravitational force to burn up, sucked into a black hole, or starve (or more likely die from dehydration). But it seemed fate had seen fit to deal her a slightly kinder hand. A hand that still said she was screwed, but only in the gentlest way. With fancy silk sheets and plenty of lubrication.

She would've laughed, but that would exacerbate the splitting headache she already had, so she settled for a chuff. Clearly the delirium of losing core body heat was setting in.

It seemed a rather appropriate bookend to her story, short though it may be. Fitting that her last memory should be bobbing freely along the Etherium waves to wherever they deigned to take her, as it was also her earliest. Gazing up at the endless, twinkling abyss, she could almost imagine the hard wooden deck of her grandfather's old longboat beneath her back. Or maybe the rough fabric of his overalls, with the button that always seemed to poke her in her shoulder blade as she reclined against his portly torso. She smiled to herself then. That's a nice thought, she said to herself, letting her head drift back, supported by nothing but the lack of gravity. It was almost enough to fight off the creeping chill that raced ahead of the numbness as her limbs stopped receiving vital blood. She'd always ridden the waves as they came, be them Etherium or fate, letting them take her where they willed. Why should the end be any different? "A man's heart devises his way, but fate directs his steps," her grandfather would say. Smart man, for just a farmer.

The irony wasn't lost on her, even as her brain began to sluggishly flit around poorly connected thoughts. The woman who always had an escape plan, always left a way out... Lady Luck had robbed her of her one vice. Not that she hadn't tried. It was getting out that had landed her in this situation in the first place. She'd booked passage on a small transport ship out of the Calyn Abyss to... actually, she didn't remember where the vessel was enroute to. Away, was all that mattered. A deal had turned particularly sour, and she needed to disappear in hurry. With enough money in the right hands and a vessel about to pull out of port, nobody asked questions. She'd stepped onto that dock as Absence, and left as Tammy Righte.

Things had been going well, until a bit of turbulence from a passing comet had caused some sort of electrical malfunction. As the transport rocked and swayed, the occupants had tied their lifelines, hoping to ride out the waves. That was when everything started blowing. Something must've shorted, creating a fire below deck. She remembered people screaming as the deck shook. A particularly violent blast caused the ship to tilt and lurch, bucking like a mad bonzabeast, throwing her from the deck. She remembered feeling weightless as she escaped the protective sphere of the ship's artificial gravity. The last thing she remembered was something metallic from the ship hitting her squarely in the face before blacking out.

When she woke an unknown amount of time later, she found herself adrift in space, far from anything to save herself with. Her face ached something fierce, and she'd touched it to feel blood. Without gravity, it couldn't really pour, but she felt it oozing with each pounding pulse of her heart, trickling along her face whenever she turned her head.

Despite the name, one couldn't swim through Etherium currents like water. You went wherever they took you. The knock from the ship had sent her essentially careening through space, and she'd keep going that way thanks to the lack of friction unless something intervened. Not wanting to die, as any warm-blooded being wouldn't, she'd tried to find some way to stop or change her course. But she wasn't near anything. Eventually, hypothermia started to set in, and her limbs became too leaden to move. At that point, she'd resigned herself to her fate. Why die tired?

She reached up a hand to wipe the blood trickling in the corner of her eye, but her aim was sloppy due to not being able to feel her hands anymore. Don't spend your last moments thinking about such things, she told herself. Shouldn't her last moments be happy?

Relaxing back into the Etherium, she went back to imagining herself on her grandfather's boat, bobbing along. They'd spent many a'night floating aimlessly in the sky, the green plains of her home rolling peacefully below them in the breeze. As a little girl, she would sometimes lean out over the side of the longboat, so far her grandfather would have to pull her back to stop her from falling. She'd giggle as he tickled her, tucking her safely to his chest. "Tryin' to fly away, little bird?" he'd ask. "Ya' too young for that, yet." Some nights, if the weather was clear, he'd teach her about the different stars and planets. He'd tell her tales about his brief stint in the Navy, or some adventure from his wild youth-- sometimes they'd even be true! Other times, they'd fall asleep drifting, only to wake up in some random place and go on an "adventure" to get back home. Basic navigational and map-reading skills were an essential pick up. He liked to pretend he was teaching her, but she knew better. Man couldn't find his way out of room with a single door some days.

Her favorite nights, though, were when he'd pull out his old harmonica and play for her. On particularly clear, cool nights like this, his tune would be slow, the notes dragging on for long periods before warbling, bobbing like the waves. She always felt like she was rising and falling in time with the tune. Her hand came up to rest on her breast pocket. Despite not having feeling in her fingers anymore, she knew the harmonica was still safe within. She felt its outline pressing into her chest. Briefly, she thought to take it out and play one final song on the old instrument in memorial, but with her hands as they were, she wouldn't be able to play. And she didn't want to lose it. So, she settled for letting her hand rest there, taking comfort in its presence over her heart.

Everything felt heavy now, to the point she almost expected to start sinking. The organ beneath her hand was beginning to slow as it lost the fight to keep her warm. Non-vital organs would start shutting down soon.

She forced her mind back to more times with her grandfather, this time on land. "Don't think you're too good to put your hands to hard work, little bird," he'd tell her... usually while making her do something around the farm he didn't want to do. Chasing down some ornery creature that didn't want to be hemmed up, most likely. Or time spent fishing at Mrs. Neelie's pond. She didn't actually like to fish, didn't have the patience for it, but she always went to watch him. She swore, her grandfather could be in the middle of an ocean, miles from anything else, and still manage to get snagged on something. Or there was the time he tripped coming down the hill and nearly knocked old Mrs. Neelie into the pond. She'd had to sit down, she'd laughed so hard. "Go ahead, laugh at the old man," he’d warned her.

Her laughter melded into a sob at the end, lips pulled back in a grimace. The stars around her shined even brighter in the light of her tears stuck to her lashes. She felt her lower lip wobble. No one was around, what was the point? She allowed herself to cry, flailing in impotent rage. "I don't want to die!" she shouted to the heavens. Maybe this close, someone would actually hear her and take pity.

There would be no one to mourn her, no one to even report her missing. Absence would be hunted for a while until her pursuers gave up and cut their losses. Tammy Righte would be listed as death in absentia, another sad statistic. All her other alias would only be missed when a contact tried to reach her for something, but swiftly forgotten as they looked elsewhere for someone to do their dirty work. Her more frequent clients might wonder, but it would be a passing question, like the fate of a childhood schoolmate. She'd ghosted through life, taking different names along the way. She went through names like normal people went through clothes: you pick one as needs demand, it gets a little too dirty, discard it and pick out a new one. So many names and alias and identities. Her real name safely locked away.

There was no one left who knew who she really was.

The brief burst of indignation warmed her a little, but the almost absolute zero temperature of space just as quickly sapped it from her, the cold once again cradling her in its loving embrace. Fear threatened to creep up faster than the cold. She'd never been the religious sort. She didn't know if there was anything after this. But if there was, she was sure she'd be going to same place as her grandfather, and that thought offered some bittersweet comfort. Likely not heaven, but if he was there that would be heaven enough. She wrapped her arms around herself as best she could, imagining it was the warm embrace of her grandfather. Droplets floated up from her lashes as she smiled. She'd held his hand when he died, a smile on his face. She kinda wished she had someone to hold her hand, now. "Meet me at the bar, old man," she whispered. "I'm buying this time." Then she closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift to happier times as the cold, gentle embrace of death shrouded her.

#writing #side project #pilot #curious if anyone will know what this is even from #fiction #fanfiction

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secretficblog · 3 years

Text

In another life - Chapter 3 - Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: Long before there were new Jedi, before the fight between the Resistance and the First Order came to an end, there was just a young man, skilled in flying anything he could get his hands on, with the urge to be something greater. Then there was you. You broke him

Rating: M for smut in later chapters

Now on ao3, come say hi if you want to!

Warnings: both of them are idiots, I feel like I only write idiots with zero communication skills, you’ll see; now with more angst; you dumped him;

no use of y/n

Word count: 2220

first chapter here ; second here ; fourth at the bottom

Kijimi, a few years ago

“Dameron, what in the everloving fuck did you do?”, you yelled over the sound of blasterfire.

“He altered the deal, so I altered it even further!”, Poe called back to you.

“Well he wasn’t happy with that, I’m guessing”, you retorted. Quickly you raised your blaster over the large barrels you were taking cover behind and shot at the attackers blindly. They were approaching rapidly and from what you could tell, there was quite a few of them. The frigid air smelled like spilled spice and the coldness was slowly seeping into your clothes, the floor underneath you was making you shiver. Your hands were shaking, unsteadily holding your blaster and you weren’t sure if it was from the impending feeling of doom or the low temperature on the planet you had made your temporary home on.

“If we die here Poe, I’ll haunt your ass!”, you shouted, turning to where he was sitting mere moments ago. The spot next to you was vacant.

“What the fuck, Dameron?” Kriffing cunt. He left you alone in this. Of course you knew he hadn’t run off, he would never turn his back on you but he had some sort of suicidal plan he was currently implementing without consulting you first. By now you knew that that was typical for him but the way your heart sped up, fearing for his wellbeing, was always the same, even with the knowledge that he had returned to you safely every time so far.

You grabbed the blaster tightly, pulling out a small mirror, which you usually used to fix your hair in the middle of a long day, from your pocket and let it peak out slightly next to the barrels. You could see at least three of them slowly closing in on you. You picked the one to the far right off first, aiming your blaster and shooting him in the chest. He thudded onto the floor, alarming the other two. The next time you held out the mirror you saw the flash of a familiar looking jacket on the rooftop behind the attackers. How had he been able to sneak up on them like this?

Poe snuck closer, leaping soundlessly from roof to roof and dropped down on the man on the far left, taking him down with the full force of his body and choking him out. You left your cover, ready to take the last man down, who was aiming his blaster at Poe. Your companion was still busy with the other attacker and didn’t notice the dangerous situation he had gotten himself into. “Dameron, move”, you screamed, hands shaking from the cold as you willed you blaster to shoot the last attacker. You missed just as he hit his mark. Poe had whipped around slightly but not far enough for the shot to miss him entirely. You couldn’t see how bad it was from you position but he went down with the intensity of the pain.

Letting out a feral growl you aimed at the last man, adrenaline steadying your hands as you hit the mark not once but four times in your uproaring anger.

“Maker, baby, cool it, I think you got him”, you heard Poe wheeze behind you. His voice sounded thin and strained but at least he was talking to you.

“Kriff, I thought you died on me for a second, Dameron”, you whispered. He was still sitting on the floor, breathing heavily. Your eyes slid down to his waist, where the weapon had penetrated his flesh. He looked up at you, eyes wide. “Sweetheart, I think I still might”, his voice was wavering, he was scared.

“No, no, you’re alright, I just need to get you home, I have a cauterizer, we can fix this”, you rambled. Of course he knew you had a cauterizer, you lived together. You just needed to keep talking to help yourself focus and most importantly, to keep him alert. Red was blooming through his big coat now and you could barely hold it together. Hands still shaking you lifted the scarf you were wearing off of you and tied it around his mid tightly. Getting him home was a hassle, you were more dragging than carrying him as he faded in and out of consciousness.

Normally, you loved wandering around the streets of Kijimi with him at night. You thought about the times you two had sneaked through the allies, a bottle of Corellian Firewhiskey in one hand, stealing quick kisses here and there on your way home. He needed to hold on so you could spend more nights like this, bathing in the moonlight and unbothered by the cold, unsure if the warmth you felt came from the drink in your hand or the way he looked at you.

Finally, you made it and carefully guided him towards your shared bed. His skin was cold as ice, his lips blue and he had stopped shivering a while ago. You covered all the areas you didn’t need to access to cauterize his wound with thick blankets made from bantha wool. After cauterizing the wound, you sat next to him until he started shivering again. Planting a soft kiss on his forehead you allowed yourself to relax slightly and take your eyes off of him while he slept. You nuzzled his head, whispering soft nothings into his hair and letting your tears fall freely. The ice-cold grip of fear closed around your heart as the realization set in that you had almost lost him today.

Hours Later

Groaning, he pushed himself up on the headboard hours later, eyes trained on your exhausted and tear-stained face. “Do you think this is all I’m good for? Running spice until I get killed?”, he asked.

“Of course not Poe, that’s ridiculous.” You were unsure of what he was getting at but you didn’t like the undertone in his voice one bit.

“I want my life to mean something, no stick around here in fear of the First Order.”

“Poe, I-”

“I know this isn’t the life you want to lead, sweetheart. If I’m sure about one thing it’s that I want you by my side, wherever that may lead us.”, he interrupted.

“Poe you can’t make a decision like this based on your love for me! I’ve seen you fly, I’ve seen you fight, they’d be lucky to have you.”

“Come with me then!”

“I couldn’t, the things I’ve done in life Poe, I’m not one of the good ones, I’m not talented like you, I’d be a burden more than an asset to the Resistance.”

“Think about it baby, we could help end this war”, the idea of fighting for a cause, dying for it, made your spine chill. You were not brave like him, you were not nearly as selfless as he was. Quite the opposite actually, you wanted to hide out on some backwater planet, take Poe with you and wait the result of this war out. It wasn’t like the sides of this war didn’t matter to you, you were painfully aware that the First Order and the Resistance weren’t two sides of the same power hungry coin.

You had seen and felt the destruction the First Order inflicted on the people of the galaxy first-hand. You were clinging desperately to the idea that you could make a living as a spice runner, with Poe always by your side, more bothered by the deals you were closing than by the constant fighting around you.

Your father had once told you that this was how movements like the First Order came into power in the first place, because people refused to accept the state of the world and rise up but instead tried to protect their own little flawless corner of the galaxy with all their might until it was too late. “I’m no hero, Poe. I don’t want this.”, the words slipped out unintentionally but that didn’t change the truth behind them.

“People are dying everywhere around us.”, he shot back, “We could be next if we don’t do anything about this.”

“I’m sorry, if you chose this you’re going down a path I can’t follow.” The look of hurt in Poe’s eyes following your declaration made you physically recoil. You never wanted to hurt him, could he not understand that you wanted him to be okay, wanted the both of you to be free and together, regardless of anything else? You gazed into his eyes, willing him to understand why you reacted the way you did. Instead he averted his eyes, searching around the room for something to focus on. The silence that settled between the two of you was an uneasy one and it kept stretching on.

You were about to open your mouth when you heard him quietly whisper “You are my everything, I’d never give that up. I’d never choose anything over you.” Tears were stinging in your eyes but you did your best to hold them back.

“Let’s go to sleep, Poe”, you replied quietly. You settled down carefully next to him, leaning over while making sure not to come near his wound. Your hand reached up to stroke over his face, fingertips softly grazing over his stubble. You leaned in, softly touching his lips with your own.

“We can talk about this tomorrow”, you said. Poe drifted off into a deep sleep soon after, the exhaustion and the blood loss pulling him under. You however stayed up, thinking about what he had said.

Poe had potential, he was brave, albeit to reckless for his own good. He would make a great member of the Resistance. You could see him making a difference in this war. When you pictured him, shining hero of the Resistance, you couldn’t see yourself with him anymore. Poe was good and selfless, for all his snarky and flirty comments he was soft at heart, caring and passionate.

You were not.

You just wanted to curl up next to him and stay in your shared bed forever. Poe was destined to be something greater and your fears were holding him back. He had said he would never choose anything over you. He didn’t have to, you would make that choice for him. In the time you had gotten to share with him, your lives had intertwined and you barely remembered what it felt like to be without him. This realization shocked you. You needed to let him go, let him realize his dreams and you had to allow yourself to go and find yourself again. Not once did you doubt that he was the person for you but you feared the timing the two of you had was off. Maybe there was a chance for you, another day, to rekindle what you had.

Quietly, you slipped out from under the arm he had thrown over you and collected a few items you wanted to take with you. After carelessly stuffing a few items of clothing into your bag, you let your fingers slide over the pictures of the two of you that were displayed in the room. You decided to slip one of them into your bag as a reminder of the things in the galaxy that were worth fighting for. The tears streaming down your face where only made obvious to you when they dripped onto the bag in front of you. You wiped your face with the shirt you were wearing, the fabric scratchy on your soft skin. You wanted to take one of his shirts with you but you knew that the minute you unpacked it you would be on your way back to him. You couldn’t be selfish right now, you needed to be selfless like Poe so that he could have a chance in this galaxy and not waste his life running spice with you. It was for the best.

You planned on leaving a note, not wanting him to think someone took you against your will. Hands shaking, you skribbled “I’ll find you in another life, Dameron, be a hero” onto a piece of paper and turned back to his sleeping form. What a dumb thing to say, but you were at a loss for words. Yet, you wanted to believe in those ridiculous words you wrote down, sounding like a girlish fantasy.

It was better this way, for him. You would manage somehow.

He was in a deep but restless sleep. Careful not to wake him you placed a hand on his forehead and he stilled immediately. Fresh tears prickled in your eyes. You bent down one last time to kiss his lips gently, bidding him a slient farewell. You shouldered your bag and looked back over to his sleeping form one last time, the urge to lie back down was overwhelming. “This is for his best.”, you reminded yourself and closed the door quietly. As you heaved your bag onto one of the two speeders parked outside, you allowed the tears to flow freely, weeping for the life you could have had if it was not for the situation around you.

He was the right person for you, you were sure of that. It was just the wrong time, the turmoil in the galaxy left no room for happy endings.

______________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Comments and Reblogs make my days as I’m fighting my way through my third involuntary online semester so I’d really appreciate that. Stay safe in these wild times loves xx

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Next chapter here

#poe dameron #poe dameron / reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe x reader #poe x you #poe dameron x you #poe dameron / you #in another life #ial #star wars fanfiction #star wars sequel trilogy #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #no use of y/n

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asthmark · 4 years

Text

❝ hotel soteria ❞ [ i ]

summary → After an assassination gone wrong, you and your partner are in critical need of a hideout and what better place than Hotel Soteria — an exclusive safe haven for the worst of the worst. But, the longer you stay, the more you become exposed to Korea’s biggest and baddest outlaws and begin to learn what the criminal life is truly all about.

warnings → mentions of death, blood n guns n stuff

word count → 3k (kind of short i’m sorry!!)

You had done something bad.

Your crimson-soaked clothes, disheveled hair, and bruise littered skin confirmed it. You ignored the blood that dribbled down your upper lip and what you were sure was a black eye forming. You shut your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of gravel beneath the tires of the car rather than the pain. You were so exhausted you had begun to doze off, before the boy in the driver's seat spoke up.

“How you holding up back there?”

You twist your head slightly to make eye contact with Lucas through the rear view mirror and simply groan in response to his question.

You see sympathy wash over his face. “Don't worry. We'll be there soon.”

You have so many questions for him. Where exactly were you going? Why was it taking so long? Was it safe?

You're out before you can ask.

When the car door opens, you jolt awake. You crane your neck to look up at the shadow towering above you.

“C’mon, we’re here.” Lucas extends his arm out to you.

You take his hand, finding yourself to be incredibly stiff. You both cringe when you hear your bones crack as you move ever so slowly.

When you step out of the vehicle after what seemed like an eternity, the first thing you notice is how dark it was. You had fled the crime scene a little after sunset but you could now see the yellow moon illuminate the sky.

"What time is it?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

"It's around 11. Why?"

"It's just… these past few hours have been a blur," you respond. You wince as Lucas puts your arm around him so you can use his broad shoulders as support. “We should stick to robbing banks.”

"That’s probably true... but, hey, we're not dead." He chuckles dryly.

You look at him and he flashes you that charming smile of his. It makes you feel better for a second. Then you notice the dry blood on his temple and the cut on his bottom lip.

You frown. "Are you okay?"

He nods, reassuringly but you don't fail to notice his limp as you both walk. He catches the way your eyes dart down to his injury. "Don't worry about that. I'd say we got off pretty easy this time.”

You have to agree with him there. Once your covers had been blown, you expected more police sirens and handcuffs but the current situation you find yourself in is oddly serene. Just you and him walking beneath the stars.

"Where are we going?" you ask after a moment of silence.

His answer is simple. "Hotel for criminals.”

You go still, trying to process what your partner has just said. He senses your confusion and continues explaining.

“I heard about it through a friend. Apparently, it really comes in handy when you need a hideout.”

“And it’s not just some government scheme to lure in delinquents or something?"

“It seemed legit to me. I had to pay for memberships and everything.”

"Memberships? Lucas, this whole thing sounds sketchy."

"Well, we need a place to stay. We shouldn’t spend the night at just any hotel, the cops could track us down. This place is our best bet. And look, if it is all a scam, we'll just kill 'em." Lucas offers you a bright smile that made it seem as if he were talking about something much more upbeat instead of murder.

You finally relent. "Alright. If we're gonna get caught I'd rather it be now. So, where is this place?"

You and Lucas walk and don’t stop until you reach a complex that looks to be so run down you believe it’s abandoned. The only thing that indicates that it’s the place you’re looking for is the sign that hangs above the front door.

You read it aloud. "Hotel Soteria. Sounds… fancy."

The two of you shuffle up to the front steps, equally unsure of whether or not this was the right choice.

"Before we do this… any other ideas?" Lucas asks, his voice dropping to a whisper.

You shake your head. "Like you said, you already paid. We have the memberships. No backing down now."

Lucas seems to agree because after taking a deep breath he twists the knob and swiftly steps inside. You glance behind you, surveying the dark that engulfed the streets, then follow.

Dust is the first thing you notice about Hotel Soteria. It's everywhere. On the floor, on the portraits that litter the walls and on the front desk that is placed right in the middle of the lobby.

"So much for fancy," Lucas murmurs, lingering behind you, too busy observing the framed photos.

You make a beeline for the wooden surface. A shiny, metal bell sits atop it next to a computer and a landline phone. None of these items are dusty, though. They've been in use.

Lucas steps forward to tap the bell and you jump slightly; the ding sound cutting through the eerie silence of the hotel and startling you. The noise echoes until it fades and you're once again left with nothing but quiet.

"Do you think they're closed?" you ask, turning to face your partner.

"We never close."

You and Lucas turn around in unison to face the desk and the man that has suddenly appeared behind it, pulling out your guns and aiming them at him in record time.

The man does not seem fazed in the slightest. In fact, he seems almost bored with the two of you, his cat-like eyes narrowed into an unamused stare. “Well, good evening to you too.”

“You're the guy I talked to over the phone.” Lucas lowers his gun at hearing the man's voice more clearly. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

The man seems to remember him as he smiles ever so slightly. “Ah, Lucas, right? I'm pleased to see you got here safely.” The man then turns to you. His smile has dropped and been replaced with a look of pure disgust at seeing how you still have your weapon up. “Would you mind?”

You reluctantly lower it but not before mumbling, “This place is so sketchy.”

The man scoffs, having heard you. “What did you expect? Five star ratings? This is a place for criminals. If it bothers you so much you can go elsewhere.”

“No, no. We’re fine.” Lucas punctuates the last word by nudging your arm and shooting you a glare for your comment. He attempts to move the conversation forward. “So, uh, can we please check in?”

The man doesn't hesitate to deny him. “Nope.”

“Nope?" Lucas repeats, incredulously. “What do you mean? We paid for the membership. You have to help us."

"Actually, I don't have to do anything," the man says, smiling smugly. "Especially not when you're violating my rules."

Lucas furrows his eyebrows. "You didn't tell me anything about rules."

"You didn't ask."

You sigh. “We're tired and we’re injured. Just tell us your rules so we can get this going.”

The man clears his throat. "First of all, no weapons are allowed."

You glance at Lucas, a displeased expression on your face. He pays you no mind, opting instead to listen to the man, carefully.

"Secondly, no disrespectful words or harmful actions are allowed against the staff." You notice how his eyes flicker to you when he says this. "Third of all, your membership must be paid for in full and in advance. Fourth of all, no video or photography is permitted. Lastly, there is zero tolerance policy against killing or physical altercations of any sort. That should be a given but I've figured out you can never be too sure." He sighs and you can only imagine all the awful things that had happened in the hotel for him to have to establish that as a rule. "Violate any of these rules and your membership will immediately be terminated, no questions asked. Are we clear?"

Lucas nods vigorously.

The man's gaze shifts to you. "I asked if we were clear."

"Crystal," you respond.

He smiles once more but it lacks emotion. “Perfect. You can leave any weapons or firearms right here.”

Lucas obeys, pulling his gun from his holster and placing it on the desk. You copy his action, biting back a complaint.

The man nods, satisfied with your cooperation. “They will be returned once your stay ends. Now, Yangyang will escort you to your room.”

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps are heard and another man appears—if you could even call him that. He looks more like a boy to you, if anything. You wonder what he’s doing working at a place like this. Was it possible that he had a criminal record of some sort? If he did, he certainly did not show it. He had a warm smile on his face, a stark contrast from the cold faced man at the front desk. He makes a motion for you to follow him and leads you up a set of stairs, away from the lobby. For a moment, it’s only the sound of footsteps and creaking but surprisingly, he decides to make conversation.

“What did you guys do?” he asks. His voice seems childlike, like a nosy little boy.

“Huh?”

He chuckles at your answer. “Well, you’re not here for fun, right? You’re running from something.”

Lucas chimes in. “Police.”

Yangyang makes a face, as if the mere thought of any legal authority disgusts him. “So, what was it then? Why are they after you two?”

“Killed a guy,” your partner answers, nonchalantly.

“Ah, good ol’ murder. You guys don’t seem like the type to just go on killing sprees, I’m guessing there must’ve been a pretty good pay to do the job.”

You nod. “That’s the only reason we did it. Robbing banks just wasn’t enough anymore.”

“Well, for people in your line of business, Hotel Soteria is the right place to be. Perfect getaway spot to lay low until the cops get off your back. Only people who know about this place have memberships and besides, there’s no photograph evidence of what goes on inside.”

Lucas smirks. “Guess those rules do come in handy.”

The young boy nods. “That’s the only way the hotel has lasted as long as it has.”

“Handing over my gun to that guy was still the toughest thing I’ve done all day,” you huff.

Yangyang laughs. “Even over killing that dude? Wow, Ten must’ve been really bad to you.”

“Ten?”

“The angry guy at the front desk,” Yangyang explains. “He’s not that bad, I promise. He just cares about this place a lot. Too much, almost.”

Quiet falls upon the three of you. Luckily, you don’t have to endure any awkward silence as Yangyang hands you the key to your room.

“Enjoy your stay. If you need anything, don’t be shy, okay?”

You and Lucas both nod your heads and with that he disappears down the hall. Lucas wastes no time unlocking the door.

You expect a run down room but once the lights are flicked on, you find that it’s rather well kept. The beds are made neatly and there’s not a speck of dust, unlike the lobby that was covered in it. Lucas flops on to a mattress, not even bothering to get under the sheets. He tucks his hands beneath his head and contentedly sighs.

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

You smile and make your way over to him. “It’s been a rough day.”

He nods then scoots over to the edge of the bed. You only realize he’s making room for you when he pats the space next to him.

You can’t help but smile. “Lucas, there’s two beds.”

He mirrors your grin. “Doesn’t matter.”

He opens his arms towards you and you can’t deny the urge you feel to climb into his arms and stay there until the mess you’ve found yourself in is all over.

So, you do.

His arms envelop your figure and you just about melt into his embrace. You can’t ignore how tightly he holds you and you feel almost embarrassed at how much you enjoy it. Of course, doing what the two of you did for a living hardly left any time for tender moments like these so when they did happen, your relished in it. You feel yourself begin to doze off faster than ever before and you credit the man holding you entirely.

“I can’t believe I’m cuddling with someone capable of murder,” you mumble, tiredly.

Lucas’ ears pick it up and he chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back. “I could say the same thing.”

You smile and that’s exactly how you fall asleep.

When you wake up, it’s still pitch black.

That’s nothing new for you. The jobs you and Lucas did usually required you to wake up before the crack of dawn. With the dark working as your cover, it made sneaking up on your target a million times easier. You’re about to dismiss the disturbance in your sleep as pure habit and close your eyes once more when you hear talking. You could tell it wasn’t just a conversation between a couple people because of how incredibly loud it was—it had to be a large group.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re slipping out of Lucas’ grip and climbing out of bed. You stop once you reach the door of your room, pressing your ear firmly against it. You listen carefully, seeing if you can pick up anything that’s being said. The sound is still muffled, almost like it’s far away and you assume it’s coming from downstairs. Without a second thought you grab your key off the nightstand, giving Lucas’ unconscious figure a quick glance. His snores fill the room, your movement thankfully not causing any disturbance in his sleep.

With that, you leave the room.

Darkness engulfs you as soon as you step into the hallway and you almost instantly regret leaving the comfort of your bed and Lucas. You know it isn’t too late to turn around and find your way back into his arms but you realize how much clearer you can hear the chatter from downstairs and your curiosity gets the best of you. You try to walk as quietly as possible to the end of the hallway although you’re sure that even if you stomped the entire way no one would notice since the commotion is getting louder and louder with every step you take. Finally, you reach the top of the stairs and you wait there, leaning against the wall and tuning into the conversation.

“—such short notice.” You recognize the voice as Ten’s.

“Well, forgive me. I can’t usually find the time to call you in the middle of a heist. I’d get my brains blown out before I even finished dialing your number.” This voice is new but right off the bat you can tell they hold enough sarcasm to rival Ten’s.

“All I’m saying is a heads up would have been nice,” Ten responds and you can almost visualize the annoyed look on his face. “Nearly all the rooms are booked.”

You hear a string of groans and complaints. Just how many people were down there?

“You’ve gotta figure something out,” the same voice from before says. “We did some real damage this time, Ten.”

He scoffs. “That’s certainly nothing new.”

“We need to stay here, it’s the only place we’re really safe.” The person clears his throat. “Please.”

A chorus of agreements follow, multiple other voices pleading with Ten. Then there’s a pause. Even you hold your breath, wondering what he will say.

“Fine. I guess I could work something out.”

There’s immediately cheering and excited shouting following this statement.

“I knew you’d give in.” You can tell that the same guy who had been bargaining with Ten moments before is the one to say this. Everyone simmers down, as if they need to listen attentively to his every word. Was he perhaps some kind of leader?

“Is that so?”

“You could never turn us away. Even if you wanted to.”

“Of course not. But you know just how much I love to see you beg, Lee. Consider it giving you a run for your money.”

He scoffs. “You’re one to talk about money. One membership here is worth Johnny’s entire closet.” This comment produces laughs from the group. You guess this Johnny guy had some expensive taste. “At this point I think you’re a better con man than all of us combined.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Stealing and lying is your second nature.” The brutal bluntness of Ten’s statement gains a couple chuckles. “And if you really had a problem with paying for so many memberships, you would stop adding member after member into your little gang.” This really seems to crack them up and even you find yourself smiling a bit, imagining the large group crammed downstairs and having to deal with Ten’s relentless sass (which you had experienced first hand).

“You just keep getting bolder and bolder, huh?” There's a pause and you almost begin to think he’s going to snap. Instead, the voice goes from smug to surprisingly genuine. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Right back at you. It’s a shame that Mark setting off security alarms is what brought us together.”

“Hey!” someone—Mark, you assume—protests. “It was an accident!”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get you into your rooms. You already know the rules, drop your weapons and you can go right ahead. And Yuta, if I find out you smuggled any firearms in again I will make sure the police know your name, okay?”

Yuta huffs. “And I’ll make sure they know you work the front desk at a bad guy hotel.”

“Excuse me? Did I misunderstand or did you just threaten a harmful act against a staff member?” You can hear the teasing tone in Ten’s voice. You know he must love having authority over every person that sets foot in the building thanks to the rules he established.

“‘Course not, sir,” responds Yuta in an overly polite, purposefully high pitched voice.

“Well, in that case, enjoy your stay at Hotel Soteria, boys.”

a/n → omg!! finally part one is out!!!1! firstly THIS IS NOT MY CONCEPT and is based loosely off a film called Hotel Artemis which i have actually never watched but i remember seeing the commercials for it on tv and being like “wow that’s a really cool concept :-)” secondly i’m not sure how many parts this series is gonna have or even what direction it’s going in all i know is that i want to introduce all of nct bc i enjoy giving ppl criminal backgrounds lol anyway feedback is greatly appreciated and i hoped u liked it

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themuzzleofnemesis · 4 years

Text

2-Memory of the Forest; Scene 8

The Muzzle of Nemesis, pages 71-81

Occasionally strange things would happen in this forest.

Any time I lost the path deep in the forest when I was young, I would be able to make my way home simply by walking along picking up acorns that had fallen in such a way as to indicate the path to me. Any time I fell from a tall tree branch, I would sometimes land in a pile of leaves, and so wouldn’t suffer any injuries.

I was able to settle on the idea that all of these were simple coincidences. But even so, on occasion I would almost get the feeling that the forest itself had a will of its own.

--And right now, that “will” was speaking directly to me in my house.

Through the doll from earlier that Mr. Ziz had scooped up.

<--You need to run out of this forest right now>

Rather than being surprised or scared, I asked the doll…or rather, the “will of the forest”, “Why do I need to run?”

If that was true, then these people were undoubtedly the police.

The S.S. Titanis sinking that had occurred six months before—They must have finally caught wind of the fact that I was responsible.

Kandi had said that he would apply pressure on the World Police so that they wouldn’t investigate. I had hoped that maybe that was possible, given he was a higher-up in the Freezis Conglomerate.

But suppressing it completely must have been difficult even for a Freezis.

“But…why are you trying to cover for me?”

Strictly speaking, I didn’t know who the “you” I was speaking to even was. I hadn’t asked, and they hadn’t made any effort to explain.

Even so, I had a hunch that I was talking to the “will of the forest” right then. Perhaps...This was the being that devotees of Held referred to as the “Great Land God”.

The “will of the forest” didn’t answer me, instead saying, <Keep this in mind. There are beings in this world that will try to protect you, that you cannot see. In this forest…and in the depths of the world.”

“…?”

“—Thank you.”

I quickly made preparations to leave the house.

There wasn’t a lot that I needed to take with me.

<…There is also one other thing I’ll tell you, while we’re talking>

The doll again spoke up to me as I was getting ready.

<If, in the course of your life—you ever run into a person by the name of “Lich”…Be extra cautious around him>

“’Lich’? Is he some bad guy?”

<I’m not so sure on that, but…What I am certain of is that he’s a being unlike those of this world. There is a lot that I can’t read into in his actions>

“Hmm…I don’t really understand, but alright. I’ll make sure to watch out.”

First thing’s first, I needed to get away from the clutches of the police.

I finished my preparations and dashed out of the house. I had considered for a moment that perhaps I ought to take that doll with me, but it wasn’t mine to start with. And the less I had to carry, the better.

I decided to sneak west, avoiding the established path. That was the fastest route out of the forest.

…Ah. What should I do about Mr. Ziz?

He was currently in that underground lake in the cave.

Though it’s hard to imagine the police would arrest an octopus…

Even so the fact remained that Mr. Ziz was the main actor in the sinking of the S.S. Titanis. It was a matter of what if.

I slightly altered my course and made my way towards the hermit cave before leaving the forest.

…That decision had been a bad one.

Before I arrived at the cave, I encountered the people chasing me.

They were—a dark-skinned man, and a woman with white hair.

They were both carrying guns.

“—There she is! The ‘Beastmaster’!” the man shouted.

Beastmaster—that was something of a nickname used among my friends. I had objected somewhat as I was really only able to summon Mr. Ziz, but it had a better ring to it than ‘Octopus master’ so I ultimately accepted it.

Contrary to my expectation, these two were not wearing World Police uniforms.

I briefly wondered if I should be thankful for that. There was a chance that they were remnants of Midas’ goons, or that Kandi had betrayed us.

Whatever the case, I had one option…And that was to find a way to escape from them somehow!

But—

…They’re fast!

I was pretty confident in my ability to play at chasing in this forest. I’d been living here since I was born.

However, the man aside…the white-haired woman was making her way towards me in defiance of all the trees lined up around us.

I couldn’t shake them very well. And on top of that, unlike them I wasn’t carrying any weapons on me. If I were to face them head on, there’s no way I would win.

A method I could use to oppose them—was the magical arts that Nikolay had taught me, but I couldn’t imagine it would do me much good in this situation. About the only thing I was really capable of doing was creating a lump of ice about the size of my thumb. I had to wonder what would even happen if I tossed it at them.

That just left…nothing other than calling on Mr. Ziz.

Fortunately the cave was right before me. I would be able to turn the tables of the situation as soon as I ran inside. Nikolay might have been there too, and I was sure he would help me.

“You can’t escape!”

The woman fired at me.

Despite the fact that we were in the forest, and both running at that, her aim was comparatively accurate, and the bullet whizzed past my head.

I forced myself to keep running despite my fear nearly seizing up my legs.

“Hey, Shiro, don’t kill her! We’re capturing her alive!”

“I know…She’s running into that cave!”

I sprinted into the cave’s entrance, listening to their voices from behind me.

The cave was a straight path that led to a dead end. Now that I’d gotten inside, it would be difficult to escape.

“Mr. Ziz!”

I called out my accomplice’s name as I ran. I was sure he could hear me.

I thought we would be able to join up immediately, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

And as I ran I reached where the underground lake would be.

--It felt much colder than it had been before.

“Oh, Nemesis…What’s gotten you in such a state?”

Rather than Mr. Ziz, Nikolay appeared before me.

“Nikolay. Please, you have to hide me! I’m being chased!”

“…Ah, I see,” he replied, his voice calm. “Who’s chasing you?”

“I don’t know! Maybe the police, or—”

“Well then, I suppose we ought to go meet them.”

“No, don’t do that, just find me some place to hide—”

“There isn’t such a place in this cave.”

It was as Nikolay said. I hadn’t come here to hide in the first place.

“Mr. Ziz! Where are you!? If you’re sleeping, wake up!” I screamed at the lake.

…And then, finally, I realized that it was different.

“What in…”

It was only natural that Mr. Ziz didn’t show.

The water of the lake had completely frozen over.

It wasn’t winter right now. No, even if it had been in the middle of winter, I had never seen this lake frozen over like this.

--Someone had frozen it deliberately.

And…there was only one person I knew of who could do that.

“Nikolay, what have you—”

Before I could ask him, my pursuers showed themselves.

“There you are! In here, Bruno!”

First the woman walked towards me, gun in hand. And then the man came my way after her, also holding his gun.

…But the dark-skinned man seemed surprised to see not me, but rather Nikolay nearby.

“--!? You’re—”

“…Oh, my my. If it isn’t Bruno Zero. I haven’t seen you since Loki’s trial.”

It appeared that the two of them knew each other.

Nikolay carelessly walked up to them, showing no fear of the fact that they were armed. “You coming here like this must mean that PN is after her…or rather, Gallerian is.”

“Not quite. He’s not involved in this. PN conducted the investigation alone, and identified this ‘Beastmaster’ here as a suspect…To think, you were the mastermind behind this.”

Nikolay gave a half smile and shook his head at the man named Bruno’s words. “—Hey now, have you gotten mixed up on something? If you’re talking about what happened with the Titanis, I’m not involved.”

“Then why did this ‘Beastmaster’ run in here?”

“I dunno. Of course, we live in the same forest so I know her at least, but…it’s not like she and I are family or anything.”

…Huh?

What are you saying, Nikolay?

Certainly, what he said wasn’t a lie. He had no involvement with Midas or the S.S. Titanis, and he and I had no blood relation to each other. It was true that we were mere acquaintances.

But even so, I had thought that surely he would protect me.

“Nikolay…”

When I spoke up to him, he turned around.

His usual kind smile was nowhere to be seen.

“…Nemesis, if you have done something bad then you need to properly atone for it.”

“You can’t—”

“You see, I—once worked as a man who judged people’s sins. And so I can’t shield a criminal now.”

Listening off to the side, Bruno snorted and said, “Hmph, look who’s talking. Hanma…Weren’t you the one who did exactly the opposite of that, time and again in the past?”

“And that’s why I can’t now, Bruno. It’s been fifteen years since I quit my job at the Dark Star Bureau. Perhaps you don’t believe this, but during that time I’ve done my thinking, and I’ve changed.”

“…You’re still wanted by the World Police. For the crime of violating the ‘special law on witchcraft’.”

“Naturally. I know that. So then—are you going to arrest me too?”

“PN is not like the World Police. Our stance is contradictory to the special law on witchcraft in and of itself. …Besides, if you really are ‘Elluka’s apprentice’ as the World Police says—then we have no hope of being able to arrest you.”

“…Ha ha, how ironic. That you who have seen the existence of magic with your own eyes have been promoted to a position that denies its existence.”

Bruno pointed the gun at Nikolay. “—We’ll be taking in this ‘Beastmaster’ now. As long as you don’t interfere…we’ll leave you be.”

“I don’t mind, do as you like—While you’re here I’ll give you some information you might like.”

Nikolay took out a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Bruno.

“And this is?”

“A map that indicates Zeus’ hideout. She forgot it here earlier. This should help you in capturing the others, shouldn’t it?”

“…I appreciate the cooperation.”

That told me everything.

Before I had even run in here—Nikolay had already decided to sell us out.

And that was why he had frozen over the lake…If he was trapped within the ice, then Mr. Ziz couldn’t still be alive.

“You traitor!” I screamed at Nikolay—then tried to take advantage of the confusion to run towards the entrance to the cave.

--But my feet tangled up and I tumbled down.

“Ah!”

At some point my ancles had been encased in ice-shackles.

“Traitor…Hm. You’re wrong, Nemesis. It was—you who betrayed me first.”

“What are you…I don’t know what you mean.”

“I had though that as long as I could raise you right, I would always continue to protect you. But in the end, you caused such an awful tragedy…I guess you are her daughter after all.”

“Her…You mean my mother? What about my mother!?”

“She was a great one, your mother—but I cannot agree with her as the man I am now.” Nikolay glanced back at Bruno. “Go on, take her away.”

“…Yes.”

Bruno and the woman with him walked up to me and picked me up off the ground. And then, instead of ones of ice, they put real manacles on my wrists.

<<prev------directory------next>>

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drauthor · 3 years

Text

Operation: HAUNT

Part 1/?

Marian adjusted the duffel bag strap on her shoulder as she scanned the unfamiliar conference room. The drab beige walls were bare except for the large TV screen on the far north that was attached to a computer set up underneath and slightly to the left of it. The conference table wasn’t the largest she had ever seen - it would comfortably fit ten people, uncomfortably fit upwards of twenty. A quick count totaled sixteen people crammed around the table, talking amongst themselves. A few chairs with ugly polka-dotted upholstery were scattered throughout the room and most of them were claimed as well.

Marian held back her sigh and ducked into the room, aiming for one of the last pairs of open chairs. Once she was there, she dropped her duffle bag on the chair closest to the table and remained standing in front of the remaining chair. She braced her hands on her lower back and arched, sighing in relief when a series of cracks raced up her spine. She let the noise of the room wash over her and just as she was about to sit down, a hand landed heavily on her shoulder.

Every one of her muscles tensed and before she was aware of moving, her hand was locked around the offending wrist. She jerked around and was met with a solid chest clothed in a gray sweatshirt with fancy script declaring “Simmons Family Treasures” on the front.

Marian dropped the wrist like she had been burned and directed a glare upward, at the new arrival’s face. “What the fuck, Titus? You know better than to sneak up on me.”

Bartram Titus, Marian’s friend and co-worker, just smiled. “I apologize for scaring you, but I thought you had heard me approaching. I was not trying to be quiet.”

Marian crossed her arms over her chest and lowered herself into the chair. “You know these training events get loud. I don’t want to accidentally break your wrist one day.”

Bartram transferred Marian’s duffle bag to the floor between the chairs and sat down himself, crossing his ankles. “An unfortunate accident of my own making, if it ever occurs.”

Marian rolled her eyes and shifted until she was slumped in the chair with her legs splayed out. She let her eyes drift across the men and women gathered around, marking the exits - the doorway where she had come in, which was attached to a long corridor with no windows, and a large window on the east side of the room, which looked out over a small courtyard from four stories above - and anyone she didn’t recognize.

“Captain Smith is not here yet. How unusual.”

Marian tipped her head toward Bartram and let out a quiet hum of agreement. “Isn’t it great? I don’t have to look at his stupid fuckin’ face first thing in the morning.”

“His ‘stupid fucking face’, Marian?”

Marian shrugged and let her focus zero in on the door and the area surrounding it. “His face is stupid. I don’t like it.”

“I think the truer statement is that you just do not like him in general.”

Marian didn’t say anything and just smirked. Bartram fell silent as well, bending forward to rifle through the side pocket of Marian’s duffle bag. Marian, from the corner of her eye, watched him pull out the fresh sketch pad she had packed for him. Her smirk gentled into a smile as he began to sketch, his hand moving confidently along the page.

Marian took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing instead on the sounds of the room - the low murmuring of conversation, the scratch of Bartram’s pencil, and the machinery underlying the building that kept it running.

Abruptly, the noise in the room jumped a handful of decibels. Excited “captains!” were shouted and someone let out a loud wolf whistle. Marian scowled and let her eyes flick open. She stared at the ceiling just long enough to roll her eyes and then looked back to the doorway.

The first time Marian Sheldur had laid eyes on Jordan Smith she had come to two conclusions: 1. He was the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on and 2. He was a complete and utter prick.

Three years later and nothing had changed.

He stood a few feet away from the doorway in the room, chatting amiably with the gathered SWAT officers, most of whom were members of his personal squad. His dark hair was styled away from his face, leaving his face unobstructed. Marian absently traced the lines of his face, trailing along his jaw and down his throat. She blinked twice before physically shaking her head, scowling at herself. She dragged her gaze away from his throat and the sight of his stretched out crew cut shirt that revealed warm brown skin just as dark as the rest of him.

Marian pulled her phone out of the pocket of her sweatpants and frowned at the home screen. It was almost seven in the morning and the first meeting of the day was supposed to start in ten minutes. Letting out a short sigh, Marian shoved her phone back into her pocket and looked up in time to see a familiar face walking toward her.

Marian arched an eyebrow at the man but didn’t try and keep the grin from spreading over her face. “Hey, Rev. You and the captain over there are late.”

Roland Allen was better known by his old military designation R3V4N and seemed to prefer it, too. He was a large man and appeared even larger when he stopped in front of Marian’s chair, holding a hand out for her to shake. “Hey, Sheldur. Nice to see you too. My morning has been quite lovely, thanks for ask-”

Marian rolled her eyes and leaned forward to take his hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was getting to that part. Why are the two of you so late? Smith’s normally the first one at these things.”

“Privileged information, I’m afraid.” R3V4N winked as he released her hand. He braced his hands on his hips and grinned down at her. “You seem as excited as ever for training.”

“You know I always am.”

“I could swim in the sarcasm that just dripped off that sentence.”

Marian rolled her eyes and settled back into her chair. “Out of all the SWAT teams in our area, I’m the only one that’s been forced to consistently train with Smith for the past three years. I finally got the administration to let Bartram tag along. He’s been chomping at the bit to get inside of Doc’s head since I mentioned the man.”

R3V4N’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, disappearing into a sea of fiery red, and he immediately looked to Bartram who merely looked up to offer him a smile before going back to his sketching. R3V4N looked back to Marian. “You trust him around Doc?”

Marian’s snort was loud and uncontained. “Absolutely the fuck not.”

R3V4N let out a boisterous laugh and slowly shook his head. “If something explodes, I’ll let the captain know it’s your fault.”

“My fault?”

“If Bartram and Doc get along and blow something up, you were the one who got them into the same room so they could interact.”

“And Smith is always looking to blame me for something.”

R3V4N shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. “It’s not like you're not just as eager to throw him under the bus.”

“I would like to actually throw him under a bus,” Marian muttered under her breath.

Either R3V4N didn’t hear her or elected to ignore the jab. Marian would have bet on the latter if the smirk on his face was anything to go by. “If they make anything explode, I’m blaming Smith and you as I eat popcorn and watch from the sidelines.”

“I refuse to accept blame if it ever happens.”

R3V4N just shrugged and glanced over his shoulder. He took a moment to study Smith before looking back at her. “You should let me take out for lunch later today.”

Marian cocked an eyebrow. “I’m loathe to say no to free food-”

“Then don’t.”

“But I will if Smith is there. Watching us try to kill each other over lunch might be considered entertaining for you and Bartram, but Smith and I would take it too far.”

R3V4N shook his head. “Cap’ has other plans. He’s getting dragged into a meeting with The Admin.” He paused. “I didn’t tell you that.”

Marian schooled her features into neutrality despite the shock of surprise that zipped up her spine. “The Admin?”

“All I can say, unfortunately. Lunch?”

“You don’t wanna eat with your squad?”

“I see them all the time. You, I only get to see twice a year, maybe four if I’m lucky. Honor me with your presence and get lunch with me. I’d like to find out if I need to avoid Bartram and Doc when they’re together.”

Marian slowly started nodding. “Yeah, sure, okay. Lunch it is. You pick the place. I'll do anything except sushi.” Her lips turned down in a frown and she locked eyes with R3V4N. “You have any idea why Smith is meeting with The Admin?”

R3V4N was silent for a long moment. He glanced at a sleek looking watch on his wrist. “Even if I had any idea, I couldn’t tell you. As it is, I have no fucking clue.”

“Well, it’s his problem. I’m perfectly fine with that.”

R3V4N grinned. “I’m sure you are. Your squad is downstairs, right?”

Marian nodded. “I have a couple of sims with them for about an hour after lunch.”

“Good luck. I better find a seat with Cap’ before the big wigs come in and yell at me for still standing up.” R3V4N touched two fingers to his brow and sketched a shallow bow before strolling back over to Smith. Smith glanced up when the other man arrived and offered him a quick smile before his eyes flicked over to Marian. He studied her for a moment and when he made eye contact, Marian crossed her arms over her chest and raised both eyebrows. His nose wrinkled and he looked away.

“And the urge to make him eat his own teeth grows yet again.” Marian clenched her jaw and hunkered down in her chair.

“You’ll be able to ignore it for one week, I’m sure.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Marian could feel Bartram’s attention shift to her. “Are you ever going to tell me why you hate Captain Smith so much?”

Marian ignored her lieutenant and almost felt guilty when she heard the man let out a quiet sigh. He began to carefully pack away his sketchbook and pencils and didn’t push the issue. She was grateful he was willing to move on so quickly. Marian closed her eyes and tipped her head up to the ceiling.

Marian and Jordan Smith had been butting heads for the three years they had known each other. Marian’s oldest daughter was insistent it was because they were too similar and had witnessed the worst of each other when they first met and Marian was sure it was just because Jordan Smith was a complete and utter asshole.

The first time they had met was… disastrous. Marian hadn’t slept for more than two hours at a time for a week and having to leave her newest foster child - a small boy named Crux who was still with her and she was still in the process of adopting - with her brother had knotted Marian’s nerves so tightly she had shaken through the entire drive to the training building and then through the rest of the week as well.

In hindsight, Marian was surprised she hadn’t punched him sooner.

He had breezed into the room like he owned the place and Marian hadn’t known that, as captain, he practically did. His confidence wasn’t the issue. It was the argument about strategy that had turned her vague frustration into outright rage. Marian couldn’t even remember what the damn argument had been about, all she remembered was hopping the conference table and her fist connecting with his jaw.

The hit he landed on her liver had hurt like a bitch.

It was one of the handfuls of things she reluctantly respected about the man.

They had never managed to make up after that cataclysmic fight. Surprisingly, the incident hadn’t gone on either of their records, and Marian was still forced to work with Smith and his team.

Marian hated to admit it and would only do so under extreme duress, but when she and Smith weren’t fighting and were actually working together, they made a formidable team.

It was truly a shame that Marian would rather have her teeth pulled than work with Smith any more than she absolutely had to.

When Marian heard the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, she blinked her eyes open and forced herself to sit up straight in her chair. Glancing at the doorway, she saw two men in suits walk into the room and head straight to the TV screen and computer. The room fell silent when they entered. Marian bit back her smile; not a single officer in the room liked the men in business attire that started out leading these meetings.

Marian settled into the chair, keeping her back straight and the rest of her posture relaxed. This first meeting wasn’t scheduled to be longer than half an hour and then they would be beginning the first of the day's simulations. Bartram straightened up beside her and he leaned forward, eager to begin. Marian wished she had even a third of his energy. It would make the day go by faster.

Marian let her eyes flick over to Smith one final time before she turned her attention to the ceiling and let the droll tones of the men in suits wash over her. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the long, boring day ahead of her.

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antiadvil · 4 years

Text

Electrify My Heart

summary: Dan Howell picks his college major almost at random. Even after a gap year, he doesn’t know what he wants to do, so he supposes he might as well pick whatever will make him the most employable and impress the largest number of his relatives. Within his first semester, he knows he made a mistake and switches out. Except Dan’s major isn’t law. It’s computer science, and Phil is his TA.

rating: PG13

wc: 13k

notes: for all the notes go read the ao3 version but tldr ty @itsmyusualphannie for being beta and ty to lots of other ppl and imposter syndrome real

read on ao3 or under the cut

College was hard, Dan decided, and his classes hadn’t even started yet. All he had wanted was coffee, and god, why did everything have to be so hard? He was waiting in line at a coffee shop on campus with some cutesy name- “The Daily Grind”- and a ridiculously long line. Really, it should not be taking this long to get one iced coffee. He was just beginning to wonder if he should give up and go somewhere else when someone slammed into him from behind. Dan stumbled and fell.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry.”

Thank god Dan hadn’t gotten his coffee yet. “You’re fine,” he said automatically, standing up.

“Seriously, I’m sorry. Are you alright?” A face with shaggy black hair and blue eyes peered intently at him.

“Yup,” Dan said, “Pretty sure.”

“Let me at least buy your coffee for nearly killing you.”

Dan froze. “Uhhhhh…”

The boy laughed. “Calm down, I’m not asking you out. I just mean coffee. Don’t worry.”

“Oh,” Dan said, relieved. “Uh, yeah, that’d be great. Coffee, I mean.”

“Great,” he said. “I’m Phil, by the way.”

“Dan.”

It turned out that Phil was a grad student in computer science, the same subject Dan was majoring in. Dan’s eyes glazed over when Phil started talking about what exactly his specialization was (something about human-computer interaction and other words Dan didn’t understand), but Phil steered the conversation away from that pretty quickly once he noticed Dan’s reaction.

“So you’re a freshman? How’s the college life treating you so far?”

Dan shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. It’s kind of nice not having my parents around, but also, I’m really bad at doing adult things.”

Phil smiled. “It’s okay, I didn’t really know how to cook until I got an apartment my junior year. As long as you know the basics-”

“No,” Dan interrupted. “Like, I’m really bad at doing adult things. I set my ramen on fire because I didn’t know you needed to put water in.”

Phil was clearly struggling to remain composed. “Recently?” he inquired politely.

“Yes,” Dan said.

Phil laughed, and the way he laughed made Dan feel like there was a slowly growing bubble inside of him. “I’m sorry,” Phil said, “But look on the bright side. That’s actually hilarious,” and Dan had to admit it was.

When they parted two hours later, after all the ice in his coffee had melted, Dan had added Phil on every social media platform known to man and had Phil’s number saved in his phone with instructions to text if he had any issues.

Dan wanted to, he really did. He had never wanted to text anyone so badly. He gathered the courage to send a “Hi! It’s Dan!” text, then quickly threw his phone across the room, only to pick it back up immediately when it buzzed with Phil’s response.

It was just a smiley face. Why was Dan so excited about a fucking smiley face? A fucking smiley face that Phil probably only sent because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Dan spent the rest of his weekend in his dorm, leaving only to attend exactly one welcome event and spend a truly disturbing amount of time (and money) at The Daily Grind, hoping he’d run into Phil again. Why Dan didn’t just text him, he couldn’t explain. He hadn’t sent anything since the introduction text and Phil’s smiley face reply.

If the universe wanted him and Phil to be friends, the universe would have to work a bit harder.

***

Classes started the next Monday. After the disaster that was the one welcome event he attended, he had spoken to exactly zero people, unless you counted the barista at The Daily Grind. He was almost relieved when classes started just because he’d be around other people again, and if that didn’t say something about how isolated he was, he didn’t know what did.

His relief quickly vanished when his alarm went off at seven am for his eight am calculus discussion section. He dragged himself across campus to his classroom, where he promptly fell asleep when given a worksheet. No one in his group woke him up, and when the TA came around to collect their worksheets, Dan sheepishly turned in a piece of paper with his name on it and a few scribbled numbers he must have written before he passed out.

Dan looked longingly at the time on his phone. He really didn’t have time to take a nap before his next lecture, but oh, he desperately wanted to. He considered skipping, but he knew he should at least attend the first lecture to get an idea of what the attendance policy was like.

He found somewhere on the main quad to sit for a bit, but he must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, a bell was faintly buzzing in a nearby building, his CS 115 lecture was starting right now, and he still wasn’t sure exactly where it was.

He ended up being around ten minutes late, and as he paused outside the wooden double doors to catch his breath, he again considered just not going. He checked the time again and groaned. He really did feel bad walking in so late, but it was either that or not at all. He straightened up, wiped his hands on his shorts, and opened the door as quietly as possible.

His eyes worked over the seats, searching for an empty spot. There was an entire empty row in the front, but there was no way in hell Dan was sitting there. He spotted a seat in the middle of the back row, and briefly debated turning around and leaving so he wouldn’t have to ask the people at the ends of the row to move.

After looking around again, he braced himself and walked up to the end of the row.

“Excuse me?” Dan whispered.

The girl sitting at the end of the row rolled her eyes and tossed her blue hair over her shoulder, closing her laptop and standing up so Dan could pass.

“Thanks,” Dan whispered, moving past her, which required them to be far closer than Dan was entirely comfortable with.

The rest of the row was mostly a blur of groans and snickers, but everyone at least moved their laptops back so Dan could step over their knees.

Finally, Dan sat down in his seat, his ears burning, and pulled out his laptop.

The professor paused. “And if everyone could make an effort to be on time next time,” she said with a mildness that terrified Dan, “That would be appreciated. Thank you.”

Dan shrunk into his seat. An auspicious beginning to his college career. Hopefully, his lab later in the day would be better than his lecture.

It was not. After standing in line for at least twenty minutes and eating a rushed lunch and attending a two-hour-long lecture for his film class, which was interesting but incredibly long, he showed up to his lab.

He was on time, at least. He even managed to find an empty table. But then the empty table started filling up, and his tablemates all wanted to talk to him, and it was almost a relief when the TA walked in to start class. His relief vanished when he and the TA made eye contact.

It was Phil.

Phil’s eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly. He pulled out his laptop and adjusted his glasses. “Welcome to your first lab section,” he said. “I’m Phil Lester, your TA. I’m here to help you work through your lab problems, homework problems, and Machine Project, but they’re ultimately graded by the online autograder, which I have no control over, so bring up any issues about grading to Professor Ross. Any questions?”

Someone’s chair squeaked.

“Okay then,” Phil said. “Today’s lab is to download, configure, and familiarize yourself with IntelliJ. I’m sure that sounds easy, but even experienced programmers have issues getting used to IntelliJ, which is why we’ve devoted a lab period to it. Your instructions are online. Let me or the CAs know if you need help with anything.”

The lab passed with mind numbing boredom, but by the end, with the help of his tablemates and a bored-looking Course Assistant, Dan had IntelliJ up and running.

As he stood to leave, his stomach growled. He really should have picked a lab that was earlier in the day, but whatever. Even if Dan was able to figure out how to use his student portal, it was probably too late to transfer lab sections. He glanced at Phil, but he seemed absorbed in helping another student, so Dan just put his laptop in his backpack and trudged away.

He stepped outside the Computer Science Center and took a deep breath, aiming himself towards his dorm and a thirty-minute walk home, but he was interrupted.

“Hey! Hey, Dan,” Phil said, running after him. “How’d I do?”

Dan looked up. “Phil?”

“Yup,” Phil said. “It’s so funny that you ended up in my class. It must be fate.”

Dan wrinkled his nose. “I don’t believe in fate.”

“Well, you’re no fun,” Phil observed.

“There’s a thing called coincidence.”

“I’m just trying to think of a smooth way to ask you to coffee again, Dan. Work with me here.”

“Is that allowed?” Dan asked.

“Being friends with people in your lab section? It’s not exactly encouraged, but I don’t grade you or anything, so as long as I don’t display blatant favoritism it should be fine.”

So he really did just mean coffee. Again. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“You won’t. Besides, if I did get in trouble, which I won’t, it would be my fault, not yours.”

Dan shrugged.

“Anyway, if you’re not comfortable with it, that’s fine. But I really liked you and thought it would be nice to spend time together sometime. You know, if that’s cool. I know you probably have a ton of work right now, but if you get a chance.”

Phil was nervous, Dan realized. “I think I’d like that,” he said slowly.

Phil smiled. “Text me,” he said, reaching out to touch Dan’s hand briefly. “Anyway, which way are we headed?”

“My dorm’s kind of far.” It was the farthest dorm from the main quad, actually, since Dan had put off registering for housing until a week before the deadline.

“My apartment’s definitely farther. Want a ride?”

“Where are you parked?”

Phil jerked his head to the left. “Like ten minutes that way?”

Dan hesitated. Yes, he did want a ride from Phil. But Phil’s car was parked on the opposite side of campus from his dorm, and it would probably take just as long to walk to Phil’s car and get a ride to his dorm as it would to just walk there.

“Sure,” he said before he could regret it.

“Cool,” Phil said, starting to walk. “So, how are you liking CS so far?”

“It’s fine,” Dan said cautiously, following him.

“No, really,” Phil said. “I do course development for CS 115. I want to know if I made it better or worse.” He flicked his hair out of his face. “I also want to know how things are going for you, of course,” Phil added hastily.

“The homework’s been kind of hard,” Dan said hesitantly.

Phil nodded. “Did you take APCS in high school?”

Dan shook his head.

“No prior coding experience?” Phil continued.

Dan nodded.

Phil nodded. “Yeah, that would do it. Coding has a really harsh learning curve, and Java, in particular, is really unpleasant to beginners. If it were up to me, the class would be taught in Python or something, but we already have so much infrastructure for Java, and a lot of people in the CS department don’t like Python, so it’s probably not happening.”

“Oh.”

Phil shrugged. “Sorry, you’re probably not that interested in how I think your class should be taught. I kind of do that sometimes, talk about things I think are really interesting but no one else does.”

“It’s fine,” Dan said, and weirdly, it was. When Phil talked about things, he had this way of drawing people in- Dan could listen to him for ages. “The way you talk about it makes interesting.”

It was hard to tell in the slanted light of the setting sun, but Phil might have blushed. “Thanks,” he said, “But you really don’t want to get me started on my thesis topic. It’s embarrassing how much I talk about it.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Dan reasoned.

“My ex-boyfriend cited it as one of the reasons he decided to break up with me,” Phil said.

Dan winced. “I’m sorry.”

Phil laughed, but it wasn’t the laugh he normally laughed. This laugh was harsh and brittle. “It’s not your fault.”

Dan didn’t have a lot of bad breakup stories, but he thought he’d try. “I dumped my ex-boyfriend because I found him on Tinder under a fake name.”

“How’d you know it was him then?” Phil asked.

“Oh, he used his real photos. Just the name was fake.”

“Yikes.”

“You could say that again,” Dan said. “Anyway, I lived. It wasn’t that great of a relationship anyway.”

They had reached Phil’s car. Phil fished in his pocket for his keys. Dan awkwardly stood by the side of his car, debating whether to sit in the front or the back seat, before deciding he was not a twelve-year-old being given a ride by his friend’s dad, and ducking into the front passenger’s seat.

“Which dorm?” Phil asked, starting the car.

“Walton,” Dan said.

“Nice,” Phil said. “I didn’t go here for my undergrad, but I hear that’s one of the better ones.”

Dan shrugged. “It’s okay. I got a single, which is nice, but it’s kind of far from all my classes.”

Phil nodded.

“Do you know how to get there?” Dan asked.

“Not really,” Phil confessed.

“Me neither,” Dan said.

“Can you navigate?” Phil asked. “If I tried to Google Maps and drive at the same time I would one hundred percent kill us both. I have no coordination.”

“Encouraging,” Dan said, pulling out his phone and typing his address in.

Phil laughed. “It’s okay. I’m not the world’s best driver, but I’m not the worst, either. Probably.”

“If you say so,” Dan said. “Okay, take a left here.”

Phil turned.

“Okay, then go straight for a while-”

“That’s what my mom said when I came out as bisexual.”

Dan sputtered. “What?”

Phil clarified. “Well, she said she hoped that wouldn’t stop me from settling down with a nice girl someday. But later it turned out I was gay, so joke’s on her.”

“Oh,” Dan said. He hadn’t known Phil was gay, and that knowledge sent a knot to Dan’s stomach that he decided to ignore. He was not attracted to Phil, he reminded himself firmly. “I haven’t told my parents I’m… whatever, yet.”

Phil nodded. “That’s fine. Coming from high school, I assumed that most people were out to their parents, but it turns out that lots of people aren’t out to their parents. I actually feel like most people aren’t. I don’t know, maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part, but I just wanted to let you know. Plenty of people have gay lives at college and their parents don’t have any idea.” He paused for a moment. “Sorry. That was probably weird.”

It was, a little bit, but Dan didn’t say so. “Thanks,” he said. “Um, right here. I mean, turn right. Sorry.”

“Got it,” Phil said, turning. He abruptly braked for someone crossing the street. “God, I hate driving on campus.”

The person crossing the street turned around and glared. “I think the feeling is mutual,” said Dan.

Phil started driving again, more carefully this time. “At least it’s not winter. Driving in the winter here ranks as one of the worst experiences of my life.”

“Is it that bad?” Dan asked.

Phil laughed. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Dan blushed. “No.”

“I bet you didn’t even bring a coat.”

“Was I supposed to? Can’t that wait until Thanksgiving?”

Phil glanced at Dan, incredulous. “You didn’t bring a winter coat?”

Dan shrugged. “Is that bad?”

“Dear god. You’re going to die. When it gets cold, remind me to lend you a coat. I have extra.”

Dan’s face was still hot. “You don’t need to-”

“I want to.”

Dan felt like his face was on fire. “That would be nice. If you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it,” Phil said.

Dan shrugged. He was glad that Phil was focusing on the road and couldn’t see his face, which was probably getting redder by the minute.

“Some people do that,” Dan said.

Phil glanced at Dan and smiled. “I don’t. Whenever I offer you something, I mean it, okay?”

“Okay,” Dan said, staring at his feet.

Phil laughed. “You sound like I’m yelling at you. I’m offering you help, Dan. If you don’t need it or you don’t feel comfortable getting it from me, that’s fine, but don’t say no just to avoid being a burden. You’re not.”

“Sorry,” Dan said.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Phil said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sor-” Dan started, then stopped. “Thanks,” he said.

“That’s better,” Phil said.

Dan laughed. “Are you sure you’re not majoring in early childhood education? You sound like my kindergarten teacher.”

“Pretty sure,” Phil said, “But I was actually looking into being a professor for a while.”

“Wait, really?”

Phil laughed dryly. “Yeah. That dream lasted about three months into my Master’s. There is no way I could survive a Ph.D. program.”

“Oh,” said Dan. “Sorry.”

Phil glanced over at Dan. “You’re doing it again.”

“I am sorry, though. That sucks.”

Phil shrugged. “It really isn’t that bad. You can get some pretty sweet jobs with a Master’s degree in computer science. Just not generally jobs being a computer science professor.” Phil pulled up outside Dan’s dorm. “Anyway. This is you, right?”

Dan started. “Yeah. It is. Uh, thanks.”

Phil smiled. “Yeah. No problem. Let me know if you need a ride anywhere again.”

“I will,” said Dan, who had no intention of becoming such a burden.

“Or if you ever need any help with anything CS-related or anything. You’re not bothering me, I swear. I love computer science and I love helping people.”

Dan couldn’t help but doubt that. “Thanks,” he said, still with no intention of becoming such a burden.

“Have a good night!” Phil called as Dan stepped out of the car.

“You too!” Dan said, shutting the door.

***

Dan’s first week of classes flew by in a blur. He had more homework than he’d ever had in his life, and he was handling it badly. Luckily, most of his professors seemed pretty understanding about it- his film professor gave him an extension on a reading quiz he completely forgot about, and none of his CS homework assignments were due until two weeks into class.

Before he knew it, the first Machine Project for CS 115 was released. He mostly ignored the initial release since the deadline wasn’t for two more weeks- he had plenty of other homework to do anyway. A truly astounding number of papers to write for his English and film classes, a crushing number of assignments for his physics and calculus classes, and the daily homework problems for CS 115 on top of all that.

He continued isolating himself. He wasn’t proud of it, but it seemed like everyone around him had condensed into social groups while he wasn’t paying attention, and now even when he tried, they wouldn’t let him in.

He didn’t mind too much. He wouldn’t pretend it was fun, eating meals in the dining hall on his own and sitting by himself in every lecture, but social interaction was too painful to be worth it. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if he had time to have friends. It wasn’t like he had an abundance of free time to kill.

Anyway, he had Phil. Dan was still a little bit scared of him- he was a grad student after all, and Dan was just a freshman- but they talked sometimes outside of class. Phil sent Dan memes about computers that he didn’t always understand. Dan replied with memes about video games they both played. They usually talked after Dan’s lab. Phil offered him a ride home again, but after Dan declined once, he didn’t offer again. They met up at the coffee shop once to study together, and even though Dan didn’t get much done that day, just being around Phil made him feel much better.

It was already the deadline day when Dan finally remembered his MP. He hadn’t meant to leave it this late, he really hadn’t, but everything was so overwhelming and there was so much going on and it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

He had woken up early. It was ten am. His deadline was eleven pm. That was plenty of time.

He pulled out his laptop, following the instructions on the course website, and surprisingly managed to download the MP starter code with no problems.

Actually completing it was a different story. He had read the instructions over a couple of times, but he still wasn’t exactly sure what to do. Still, hesitatingly, he started typing. There were some red squiggles underneath some of his lines of code, but he ignored them for now. He searched the crowded upper menu, selected the “Test Checkpoint 0” option from the dropdown menu, and clicked run.

A scarily large number of lines with red symbols next to them appeared. Trying not to panic, Dan did his best to decipher them. Each line started with the word “error,” which was probably very bad. It was mostly a mix of errors that read “; expected” and “illegal start of expression,” with one “reached end of file while parsing” error thrown in at the end.

Dan stared at his screen. What file, he wanted to know, and what the fuck was a parsing? He stared at the errors some more. He hit run again.

He got the same error messages. Again.

After some more staring, he decided to go to office hours. He packed up his laptop and checked his phone to see who was holding office hours right now. His heart started beating a bit faster when he saw that Phil was holding office hours for eight hours starting in fifteen minutes.

Well. It couldn’t hurt to see Phil. It gave him something to think about on the thirty-minute walk to the Computer Science Center, at least.

He really needed to figure out the bus system. This was way too much walking.

Office hours for CS 115 were held in the same room as labs. It was large, spacious, filled with enough tables and chairs that the forty or so students in his lab always had room left over, but today, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to find a seat. He stood inside the door, scanning the room for a seat before giving up and aiming for a spot on the floor near a table and an outlet. He plugged his laptop in and raised his hand, waiting for help. Miraculously, a CA came to him within a few minutes. “What’s the issue?” he asked.

“Um, I don’t really know,” Dan said. “My code won’t compile and I’m getting this error?”

The CA bent over to look at Dan’s screen. “You probably have a missing parenthesis or curly brace somewhere,” the CA told him. He flicked shaggy blond hair out of his eyes.

“Where?” Dan asked.

The CA double-clicked on the error message, which brought his cursor to the start of one of Dan’s method names. “Somewhere above here, probably.”

“But where?” Dan asked.

The CA shrugged, already moving away. “I’m really sorry, there are a lot of people I need to help. You’ll have to look for it yourself.”

Dan scowled and stared at his code, looking for the line with the error. His eyes flickered between lines of code, scanning for matching parenthesis and curly braces. His eyes blurred. It looked fine. It really looked fine. Was there really something wrong? He hit the run button again.

The same error message appeared. Dan groaned in frustration. He went back to hunting for his mistake.

Half an hour later, Dan found his mistake. This time when he ran his code, the test suites started running too. Dan let out a breath he had been holding for much too long and let his shoulders sag, relief coursing through him. He didn’t even care that he failed every single test. The fact that his code ran at all was honestly a miracle. He stared at the new error messages, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. He had no idea what he was even looking for, but he stared at it resolutely, fighting back a yawn.

He was just about to give up when Phil materialized in front of him. “How’s it going?” Phil asked.

Dan looked up. “Oh, hey. I didn’t know you were doing office hours today,” he lied.

Phil smiled. “Surprise, I guess. How goes the coding?”

Dan explained the situation.

“So you’ve moved on from getting a compile error to getting a runtime error!” Phil said. “Now you can start debugging.”

“Lucky me,” Dan said.

Phil laughed. “Debugging isn’t fun, I’ll give you that. But when everything falls together? It’s the best feeling in the world.” He glanced around. “I should get to helping people.”

“What if I need help?” Dan complained.

“Raise your hand,” Phil said, trying and desperately failing to wink before sweeping off to help other students. “See you.”

Dan returned to his laptop, hiding a smile. His smile slowly faded as he worked. His code was not as easy to fix as he had hoped it would be when he first got it to compile.

He worked on it for about an hour, during which a chair opened up at a nearby table and he scrambled for a seat. He raised his hand.

It only took a few minutes for Phil to arrive. “So what’s the issue?” he asked, leaning over Dan’s shoulder.

“I’m not really sure,” he admitted. “There’s, um, a lot going on.”

Phil nodded. “So, where did you start?”

“Kind of everywhere,” Dan confessed.

“Okay, well, don’t do that,” Phil said. “How about you start with the first method?”

Dan scrolled up. “This one?”

“Sure. It doesn’t really matter.”

Dan had some code written there, all spaghetti lines splashed with lines of red like tomato sauce. He resolutely ignored the slight pangs of hunger in his stomach. “It’s failing the tests.”

“Well, you’re not done, are you?”

Dan felt slightly silly. “No,” he mumbled.

“Then how about you get it done?” Phil said. “Read the documentation a few times and ask me if you have any questions, but try to find answers in the documentation first.”

Dan scowled. Phil smiled. Why was his stupid face always so fucking happy?

He read the documentation, like Phil told him to. When he got confused, he read it again. It slowly started to make more sense.

He started typing again, working on a single method this time instead of jumping around. The first two went okay, but he got stuck on the third for an embarrassingly long time.

He looked around and raised his hand, but the TAs and CAs all looked busy, and none of them seemed to notice. He sighed and put it down.

He must have sighed really loudly, because the girl next to him shot him a look.

“Sorry,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s fine.”

He glared at his screen again, hoping that the error in his logic would suddenly jump into focus. It didn’t. He sighed again.

The girl next to him glared again.

Dan meant to apologize, but he accidentally said something else. “Can you help me?”

For one frightening moment, he thought she might snap him in half. But then she didn’t. “With what?” she asked.

“I don’t know why I’m failing this test case.” He turned his laptop towards her.

She hesitated for a second before looking. Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, I got that error before.” She reached over to scroll on Dan’s laptop and pointed out a section of his code. “You see here? You’re not checking that the input is valid.”

Dan stared at it. “But-” Something clicked. “Oh,” he said. “Oh.” He reached for his keyboard and added a few lines of code above the section she had pointed out. He ran the autograder and held his breath.

A hundred percent. Thank god. He allowed himself to look up from his laptop for the first time in an hour and realized the room was almost empty except for him, Phil, the girl sitting next to him, and a few other scattered students.

Dan spent a few more moments glancing at Phil, trying to gauge when he would be done so they could leave at the same time, but Phil didn��t look like he was going to leave anytime soon. Dan watched as Phil sat next to another- student? course assistant? TA? Dan couldn’t tell. Phil laughed and threw his arm around the other boy.

He knew Phil had an ex-boyfriend, Dan realized with a jolt, and it sounded recent, but he had no idea if Phil was currently seeing anyone. There was a lot he didn’t know about Phil. Ears burning, he buried his face back in his laptop, trying to look busy, even though he didn’t have anything left to do other than submit his work.

He snuck another glance at Phil. Phil didn’t have his arm around the other boy anymore, but they were hunched together over the same laptop, shoulders pressed together, exchanging glances and the occasional laugh as the other boy explained something, animated. A bolt of jealousy shot through Dan’s stomach. He tried to ignore it.

They were just quiet enough that Dan couldn’t make out the details of their conversation, but just loud enough to be distracting. His eyes were drawn back to them again and again.

Dan had always been a jealous person. He had learned to cope with it over the years, but nothing ever seemed to make it go away completely. It stemmed from a place of insecurity, he knew, because as nice as Phil might be, as nice as anyone might be to Dan, there was no way they would ever really like him. And if they did, they were just seconds away from realizing what a bad deal they got with Dan, how much better they could do.

Dan wrenched his gaze away from Phil again. He could submit his work when he got back to his dorm. He waited until Phil’s back was turned before slipping out the door.

***

The next Monday, when Dan slunk into the back of lecture and sat in the closest seat to the door he could find, he realized he recognized the head in front of him. He tapped her shoulder to say hello.

“What’s your name?” Dan asked. “I just realized I never got it this weekend. Sorry.”

She glanced at him, startled. “Helen.” Her blue hair rustled, and suddenly something clicked.

“Hey, wait. Did we meet on the first day of class?”

She stared at him. “Were you that guy who was late?”

Dan nodded. “Yes.”

Helen laughed. “God, I thought Professor Ross was going to kill you.”

Dan smiled, embarrassed. “I thought so too. I’m Dan, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Dan.” She smiled.

“Really?” Dan asked. “I’m going to be honest, most times we’ve met before I haven’t made a great impression.”

Helen froze. “You totally think I’m a bitch; I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Dan started, but Helen was already talking again.

“I’m so sorry, I was just super stressed that first day of class and when I saw you the other day I hadn’t finished my MP yet and I-”

Dan cut in. “Seriously, you’re fine.” He smiled. “And you helped me anyway, which is what really matters.”

Helen took a deep breath. “Cool.”

“Cool,” Dan said. “So, do you-”

Their professor started speaking, interrupting Dan. “Later,” Helen said, swivelling to focus completely on class.

Dan envied the totality of her focus, the way she was able to switch it on and off like it was nothing. The only thing he had ever been able to focus on with that kind of intensity was video games. He reluctantly turned back to the front of the room and tried to herd his thoughts into something resembling order.

He failed. No matter how much he tried to pay attention to the lecture, his thoughts kept drifting back to Phil. Phil, offering to buy some dumb freshman a coffee. Phil, offering him a ride home. Phil, teasing him when he asked for help and telling him to wait in line. Phil, helping him anyway.

Dan smiled. He couldn’t help it.

Oh god. He had a crush on Phil.

There was no way he could be expected to focus on class now. No way.

He tried anyway. He wrote some notes on a google doc. Something about inheritance and pets and dogs and cats and he wondered if Phil was a cat or a dog person and fuck. He was fucked.

He tried really hard to focus. He really did. But when class ended, he had about five lines of notes that probably wouldn’t even make sense to the professor if he showed them to her.

His mood brightened slightly when he noticed Helen waiting for him at the door of the auditorium.

“Hey!” he said, hurrying to meet her.

“Hey!” she said. “So, how was lecture?”

“It was lecture,” Dan said. “How do you expect me to say it went?”

Helen shrugged. “I took APCS last year, and we’re finally getting into stuff that I haven’t seen before. I actually really like it.”

“This is my first programming class,” Dan said.

“Oh, wow,” Helen said. “I would probably die.”

Dan was dying a little bit. “It’s pretty rough,” he admitted.

“Why are you taking it then? Is it a required class for you?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “This is my major. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” she asked.

Dan shrugged.

She let it drop. “It’s required for me too. I’m actually a double major, though; this and film studies.”

Dan stopped. “Wait, are you by any chance in my film class too?”

“FS 105?” she asked.

“Yes!” Dan smiled.

“One o’clock, Tuesdays and Thursdays, with Professor Min?”

Dan nodded again. “We should try to sit next to each other.”

“Sure!” she said. “Can I give you my number?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, digging through his bag and handing her his phone. She quickly put her number in and handed it back.

“See you around!” she said.

“See you!” Dan replied. He made the usual walk back towards his dorm, but he felt a bit lighter than normal this time.

***

After seeing Phil with the other boy in office hours, Dan tried to avoid Phil at his next lab. He managed to escape a tiny bit early while Phil was talking to another student. The next week, he wasn’t so lucky. When he tried to duck out, Phil was already waiting for him outside the classroom.

“I haven’t heard from you in a bit,” he said.

Dan shrugged. “I’ve been busy.” It wasn’t a lie. Most of his classes were completely kicking his ass at the moment, and he still hadn’t started the next MP, which was sure to be a completely new level in the history of ass-kickery.

“Classes are catching up to you?”

Dan nodded.

“You seemed stressed at office hours. I hope MP Zero went okay?”

Dan nodded. “I think I just left it a bit late.”

Phil huffed. “That’s a mood if I’ve ever heard one. I’m the world’s worst procrastinator.”

Dan felt that that title should probably belong to him.

“Anyway, I hope you’re doing okay,” Phil said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “The first semester of college can be really rough.”

Dan blinked. Was Phil… worried about him?

“Thanks,” Dan said, his voice coming out startlingly watery.

He hadn’t expected Phil to show… genuine concern for him. Maybe he wasn’t just some dumb freshman Phil had picked up out of pity. Phil seemed to… actually care about him.

Phil nodded. “Let me know if you ever want to talk,” he said softly.

Dan nodded, not trusting his voice.

“See you around,” Phil said, patting Dan’s shoulder and moving past him with a quick, almost embarrassed smile.

“Yeah,” Dan echoed to an empty room. “See you.”

***

Dan was determined not to leave the second MP to the last minute. He started it an entire week before it was due.

He downloaded the starter code and read a bit of the documentation, then decided he deserved a break. He picked up his phone and texted Phil.

i’m bored, he said.

Dan barely put his phone down before he got a reply.

Mood, Phil said.

Dan opened the text. He wasn’t even sure how he would reply, but Phil was already typing again.

Where are you?

Dan glanced around his dorm room. dorm, he sent.

Where’s dorm? Phil asked.

Dan settled back into his pillow of blankets. you know where i live, he replied.

I forgot.

Dan laughed. ur the worst friend, he typed.

Just remind me lol don’t mock me like this

Dan wanted to push it further, but he also wanted to know why Phil wanted to know where he was. walton, remember? he sent.

That’s only ten minutes from where I am rn lol, Phil sent back. Wanna meet up?

Dan only hesitated for about ten seconds this time. sure, wya?

Phil sent him the address of the coffee shop where they first met: The Daily Grind.

Dan responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He shoved his feet into his sneakers and left his dorm faster than he would have thought humanly possible.

It was embarrassing, he reflected, how easy it was to get him to go places Phil would be. Maybe he would go to classes more often if he got someone to text him saying Phil would be there ahead of time.

The walk was supposed to be ten minutes. Dan swore the anticipation made it feel like at least twenty, but according to his watch it was actually seven and a half.

He arrived at the coffee shop only slightly out of breath. He saw Phil almost right away, but had to wait ten minutes in line for his coffee before he was able to slide into the seat across from Phil.

“Hey,” he said.

Phil smiled. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Okay. I got started on the next MP today.”

Phil’s eyes lit up. “Good!” he said. “Not too hard, I hope?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, deciding to quickly change the subject. “What are you working on?”

Phil frowned at his screen. “Thesis things.”

“Writing?”

Phil shook his head. “No, not yet. Just looking at data.”

“Can I see?”

“Sure,” Phil said, turning his laptop around, “But it probably doesn’t mean much to you.”

It didn’t, but Dan nodded anyway. “Nice,” he said.

Phil shrugged. “It’s not really nice at the moment, but thank you.” He paused. “Did you bring anything to work on?”

Dan had his laptop and most of his notes for his classes, so he could work on those, he supposed, but he didn’t want to. “I was hoping we could just hang out. If you’re not too busy, anyway.”

“I could use a break,” Phil admitted, closing his laptop. “What do you want to talk about?”

Dan thought about it for a moment. “Tell me about your thesis topic,” he eventually said.

Phil started. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” said Dan. “Just make sure to explain it to me like I’m three, because in Computer Science years, I am.”

Phil nodded slowly. “So, I’m studying human-computer interaction. Do you know what that is?”

“No idea,” Dan said, sipping his coffee.

“Well, it’s basically- like, we communicate with computers using a keyboard and mouse. Or a touchscreen if you’re on a phone, or a touchpad if you’re on a laptop, or whatever- you get the idea. And mostly that works okay, but what if there were better ways to communicate with your computer?”

“Are there?”

Phil shrugged. “Well, I like to think that what we have now is better than crawling around inside a computer and reconnecting vacuum tubes like they did seventy years ago or whatever.”

Dan nodded.

“But then when you get to weird, complex stuff like AI, it’s like, we could communicate with this the way we communicate with regular computer programs. But we could also do literally everything in the terminal, and we don’t, partly because it’s a pain in the ass and partly because it makes technology super inaccessible to non-tech people.” Phil paused. “Like, could you imagine scrolling through Instagram by running a program in the terminal and putting in a new command to see each photo, and there was a special command to like or comment or share? That’d be a terrible user experience.”

“I don’t even know how to do anything in the terminal,” Dan confessed. “I think the only time I’ve ever opened it is when someone else did it for me.”

“Exactly!” Phil said. “It’s also really unfriendly to beginners. Like, can you even imagine having to program computers in an era where you’d actually have to program in actual machine code? I would die.”

Dan confirmed that, he, too, would probably die under those circumstances. Or just pick a different major.

“So anyway, to make, for example, things like AI more accessible to people without a PhD, or people without any technology background whatsoever, we need to build user interfaces for those. And those user interfaces might not look anything like computers we’re used to. For example, some people are looking into AIs you can communicate with the same way you’d communicate with another person, or computer programs that are controlled by your brain. I mean, they’re a long way away, but I’m actually doing some research with that.”

“That’s… really cool,” said Dan.

“So yeah,” Phil said, messing with his coffee mug. “It’s way more complicated than that, obviously, but that’s the gist of it.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Dan said.

Phil shrugged. “Thanks for listening. I know it’s not really interesting unless you’re already interested.”

Dan shrugged. “I’m interested in you. So it’s interesting.” He realized the way that sounded when the words were just halfway out of his mouth, and he felt blood rising in his cheeks.

Phil’s cheeks colored. He cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he said awkwardly.

Dan tried really, really hard not to die. Luckily, Phil changed the subject. “So, how’s everything else going for you? Like, the not-CS stuff.”

Dan decided not to tell Phil that his life was, in fact, falling apart, and he had no friends. “It’s going okay,” he said. “My classes are honestly really intense, though, I haven’t had much time outside of them.”

“You said you got a start on MP One, though, right? That’s good.”

Dan shrugged. “I cloned the repo.”

“That’s still a start,” Phil encouraged.

Dan shrugged again.

“Feel free to ask for help if you need it. Office hours are basically 24/7, and this time I’m not doing Sunday office hours, so I’ll have some free time then if you want me specifically.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Dan lied. “But thanks.”

“Yeah, any time,” Phil said, looking down. His phone buzzed and he jumped. “Fuck.”

“What?” Dan asked.

“Sorry,” Phil said. “I have class in fifteen minutes.” He glanced down at his phone. “I mean, it’s just a lecture….” He trailed off.

“No, you should go,” Dan said. “I have class soon too.”

“Yeah,” Phil said, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Sorry. Um, see you soon?”

“Yeah, of course!” Dan said.

Phil hesitated for a bit, leaning towards Dan as if he was going to give him a hug before lurching back again and awkwardly waving goodbye. “Text me,” he said, before leaving.

Dan did, eventually, just not under ideal circumstances. The next week, he sat down to start actually coding for MP1.

He didn’t understand the documentation or the starter code, or what an object was and why it was oriented and programming. In general, as the kids would say, he was not vibing.

He considered texting Helen, but then he remembered how stressed she was before the last MP deadline and thought better of it.

He remembered Phil’s offer to help. He hesitated, but reached for his phone anyway.

i need help, he texted Phil.

Don’t we all, Phil replied nearly instantly. With what?

MP1, Dan said.

We can meet up if you want? Unless your question is pretty basic, then you can just ask now

Even though Phil had offered to help him, a wave of relief crashed through Dan when he realized Phil really meant it. He hesitated. meeting up would be good if you’re not too busy

I’m not! I’m just hanging out at the daily grind all day. Let me know if you want to stop by.

Dan didn’t want to look too desperate for help, but at the same time, he was. i’ll be there soon, he replied. He tossed his laptop and charger into his bag and left the library.

***

“That was fast,” Phil commented when Dan slid into the booth across from him.

“I was nearby,” Dan said.

Phil closed his laptop. “So what do you need help with?” he asked, leaning across the table.

“I think something’s wrong with my constructor,” Dan said.

Phil frowned. “That’s like, half the checkpoint. Can you be more specific?”

“Uhhhh,” Dan said. “So, I think the issue might be that I’m having trouble with the concept of a constructor.”

“Okay,” Phil said. “What part?”

Dan felt his face go red. “All of it?”

Phil sighed. “Can I use your computer?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Phil tilted Dan’s laptop towards him, pulled up a browser and quickly navigated to the course home page, and then the slides for last week’s lecture.

“Here you go,” Phil said, clapping Dan’s shoulder. “Let me know if you have any questions about the notes.”

“Thanks,” Dan said sarcastically. He spent about 15 minutes reading through the slides before switching to watching the lecture videos at two times speed, reaching over to tap Phil on the shoulder and ask questions whenever he reached anything that confused him.

Then, when he finally finished reviewing lectures, he started the MP. It made a bit more sense now. A bit.

After he had written out most of the checkpoint, he ran the test suites, but again, his code wouldn’t compile. It listed a few errors this time, luckily not as many as he had gotten last time he had the missing curly brace. He frowned at his screen, unable to decipher what exactly they meant, before flipping his computer to show Phil and tapping his shoulder.

Phil pulled his headphones off to examine the screen.

“Hang on,” he said. “Are you writing out the entire thing before trying to compile and test it?”

Dan looked up at Phil. “I mean, not the entire thing.”

“But most of it?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Don’t do that. Run your code literally as often as possible. It makes it easier to tell when you break it. Didn’t they mention that in lecture?”

Dan shrugged. He honestly wasn’t sure what was happening in lecture these days.

“Well, they should have,” Phil said, returning to his coffee. “Anyway, the first two errors are probably telling you you’re missing a semicolon, and it looks like the third doesn’t recognize a variable or method name. Common culprits for that will be typos or forgetting to declare it properly.” He paused to scroll a bit through Dan’s code. “Yeah, just take a look at each error on its own, fix it, try running your code again, and see if it makes it better or worse. And in the future, run your code more often so you’ll generally only have to fix one error at a time.”

Dan groaned.

“Debugging never gets fun, kid.”

Dan wrinkled his nose. “I’m nineteen. Don’t call me kid.” He decided not to comment on the other reason he thought it was weird for Phil to call him kid.

“Sure, kid.” Phil reached over to pat his head. Dan swatted his hand away.

“Oy. Don’t mess up my hair.”

Phil laughed.

“I’m serious. I spend like an hour straightening it every morning. If you mess it up I’ll kill you.”

“Okay, okay,” Phil said, leaning back. He raised his hands in the air. “No hair touchy. See?”

“Good,” Dan said, returning to his work. Occasionally, he stopped to ask Phil questions. Phil was annoyingly unhelpful. He refused to answer half of Dan’s questions, instead redirecting him to google or the documentation.

“It’s my sacred obligation as a tutor,” Phil said. “You’re never supposed to just give people an answer. You have to give them the skills to find the answer themselves.”

“Did you memorize that from a handbook somewhere? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

Phil shook his head, looking hurt. “I wrote the handbook we use to train Course Assistants.”

Dan laughed. “Of course you did.”

Phil looked insulted. “Someone had to.”

Dan relented. “I’m sure it’s a great manual.”

Phil sat back, still pouting slightly. “We didn’t have any training procedures before I took over the program.”

“Thank you for your service,” Dan said.

“You’re welcome,” Phil said. “Now get back to work, kid.”

They fell into comfortable silence. Phil put his headphones back on, and Dan slipped his earbuds in.

He was actually making decent progress when Phil interrupted him by pushing Dan’s computer screen down slightly.

Dan looked up.

“It’s getting late. I think I’m going to go back to my apartment,” Phil said.

“Oh,” Dan said. “Okay.”

Phil started clearing his books of their table, then hesitated. “Want to come with?”

Dan’s heart started to beat faster. “Yeah, sure,” he said, doing his best to sound normal.

“I hope that’s not weird. Sorry, I just get my best work done there, and it’s getting close to dinner- if you don’t mind staying for dinner, anyway, we could also grab something on the way.”

“I’m cool with whatever,” Dan said, starting to pack his things.

“Instant ramen it is!” Phil said. “I also have mac and cheese if you’d prefer that. The college staples.”

“Sure,” Dan said. “It beats dorm food. They’re having meatloaf tonight.”

Phil winced. “Is that as bad as it was at my undergrad?”

Dan shrugged his backpack over his shoulder. “Probably. Meatloaf is bad everywhere.”

Phil laughed. “Don’t tell my mom I laughed at that.”

“Why do moms everywhere think meatloaf is so great?”

“I wish I knew,” Phil said. “Maybe I’d be able to get them to stop making it.”

“The one thing technology can’t do,” Dan mused.

“I promise you there’s a Silicon Valley startup dedicated to that somewhere.”

“Really?” Dan asked.

Phil rolled his eyes. “There are dumb silicon valley startups for almost everything.” He stood up. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” said Dan, following.

“My car is in the shop,” Phil explained. “I hope you don’t mind walking.”

“That’s fine,” said Dan, who would never dream of saying anything even if he did mind.

“It’s not too far, just twenty minutes. I normally walk it, actually, since parking on campus is hell.”

“I walk that far all the time. I still haven’t figured out the bus system,” Dan admitted.

Phil laughed. “Wait until it gets cold. You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“God, don’t remind me,” Dan mumbled. Phil laughed.

They spent the rest of the walk in comfortable conversation. Phil asked Dan about his family, and Dan asked about his in return. Dan told Phil about his younger brother at home in California and his parents who were so insistent that he get his degree. Phil told Dan about his older brother who already ran his own business, was engaged to his girlfriend, and was only a year and a half older than him.

“It’s kind of hard to measure up to that,” Phil said with a slightly bitter laugh. “I mean, I love Martyn, I really do, but I’ll never be like him.”

“Is it your parents pressuring you about it? Or just yourself?” Dan asked.

Phil shrugged. “Mostly me, I guess. It’s nothing they’ve really done, I just… feel like I’m not what they’re supposed to want. Even if they don’t mind.”

“You’re getting your Master’s degree,” Dan said, “In a subject that will actually get you a job after you graduate. That’s better than a lot of people can say.”

Phil was quiet for a moment. “But I’m me,” he said. “I dropped out of my PhD program and my grades in undergrad sucked and I don’t even know why they let me in here. And my parents want me to hurry up and have babies, and I’m, well, gay.” He shook his head. “Sorry, that’s so dumb. I was joking with that thing I said the other day about my mom, they don’t mind. Literally everyone around me is fine, I’m just… not. I don’t know, I can’t imagine someone not being disappointed in me.”

“No,” Dan said. “I get it.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes.

Phil cleared his throat. “That was sad.”

Dan laughed. “If you want sad, we can talk about my relationship with my dad.”

Phil shook his head. “That’s okay. Unless you want to.”

“There isn’t much to talk about. He’s just, y’know. Vaguely a homophobe.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil said. Dan could see the pain reflected in Phil’s eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “But thanks,” he added more softly.

“Sure,” Phil said.

Dan cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he said, changing the subject, “You mentioned you knew a lot of dumb silicon valley startups?”

Phil laughed. “Luckily, most of the worst ideas never got that far. Mostly, I’m just annoyed about how pushy those people get. I once had a guy try to talk to me about his password manager startup the week before finals while I was in the library trying to study.”

Dan laughed. “Did you let him?”

“That’s the worst part,” Phil said, letting his voice rise to a whine. “I didn’t want to be rude and tell him to go away so I just sat through his entire ten minute pitch. It was awful.”

“Oh no,” Dan said, giggling.

Phil thumped his shoulder. “Don’t laugh at me,” he whined. “It was traumatizing!”

Dan laughed harder.

“Don’t pretend you’d be any different,” Phil reproached.

“You don’t know me,” Dan defended himself. “Maybe I’m secretly super confrontational.”

Phil wrinkled his nose. “Sure, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid,” Dan reproached.

“Sure, child.”

“That’s worse. I will have you know I am a legal adult.”

“Sure you are,” Phil said.

Dan pouted. He didn’t look that young. “I’m not that baby-faced,” he said.

Phil looked skeptical.

“I’m not,” he insisted.

“Sure,” Phil said, smiling. “Anyway, my apartment’s just over here.” He led Dan to a door just a few feet into an alley. He jiggled his key in the lock, pushed his shoulder against the door, and led Dan into in his apartment.

Dan didn’t really know what to expect from a college student’s apartment, but he supposed Phil’s apartment fit the stereotypes. It was small and dimly lit, but mostly clean, with a common area with a sofa and a TV connected to a kitchen and a hallway that Dan assumed led to the bedrooms.

“We can work in my room, if that’s okay,” Phil said. “I don’t want to bother my roommates.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Dan said automatically. Inside, though, he was freaking out. Phil’s room? He was almost 99% certain Phil didn’t mean it like that, but if he did...

Phil must have noticed the look on Dan’s face, because he paused. “Are you sure it’s fine?”

“Yes,” Dan insisted.

“Was it what I said earlier? I was just teasing,” Phil said softly. “You’re not that baby-faced. I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

Dan’s face felt warm. “No, it’s okay. Sorry, I just-”

“You don’t need to apologize if I made you uncomfortable,” Phil said.

“You didn’t,” Dan said.

“You’d tell me if I did, right?”

Dan shrugged helplessly.

Phil shook his head. “I swear to god.”

“I’ll try,” Dan said.

“Good. Now, do you want to go to my room or do you want to stay in the living room?”

“Your room is fine.”

“Okay,” Phil said, leading Dan through his living room, down a hall, and into his room. He immediately dumped his backpack onto a pile of (hopefully) clean laundry. “Sorry it’s a mess,” he said, clearly embarrassed. “I wasn’t expecting to have anyone over today.”

To be honest, Phil’s room was pretty messy, but Dan wasn’t in a position to judge. Living in a single dorm room without his mom to yell at him to pick up his dirty laundry meant things could get pretty bad in his room.

Phil gestured to his bed. “You can sit here if you’d like. There’s also my desk.”

Phil’s desk was buried under mountains of papers, and it looked like there were some stacked on his chair too. There were way too many papers for someone whose main assignments were submitted via GitHub. Dan sat down on the bed.

“Cool,” Phil said. “I’ll be back in a minute, just going to make the ramen. Make yourself at home.”

Dan was tempted to snoop, but he opened up the MP again instead, staring at his code. He was only failing one test suite now, but he couldn’t figure out why. He checked the time. He only had an hour before he had to submit his code.

He frowned, as if glaring at his code would make it suddenly make sense. He thought he might be making progress when Phil’s door opened, interrupting his thoughts.

Phil handed Dan a mug and a spoon. “Sorry,” he said. “All the bowls are dirty.”

“That’s fine,” Dan said, setting aside his laptop. He could take a few minutes to eat.

It seemed like Phil had the same thought process, sitting next to Dan on his bed with his own mug and bowl. They ate quickly in companionable silence, but Phil was the first to finish, downing the last of his broth and setting it on his desk. Dan followed his lead.

Before Phil could get too absorbed in his own work, Dan tapped his shoulder.

“Can you help me with this for a sec?” he asked.

“Sure,” Phil said, looking over Dan’s shoulder. He paused for a moment, head cocked to the side, before speaking again. “That for loop- why does it only go until the length of the array minus one?”

“Because otherwise-” Dan stopped. “Oh. I was trying to avoid an index out of bounds exception, but I guess I didn’t need to do that there.” He was acutely aware of Phil’s shoulder pressed into his back.

Phil shrugged. “Let’s see.”

Dan changed the code and ran the test suite again.

Slowly, the symbols next to each test case turned green.

Dan stared at it, unbelieving.

“Don’t forget to commit and push,” Phil said.

Dan nodded, still in shock, his hands moving to submit his work almost automatically. “It worked,” he said breathlessly. “It worked!”

Phil closed his laptop and set it aside. “Really,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I was right?”

“Literally shut the fuck up,” Dan said, putting his laptop on top of Phil’s and flopping down so he was lying right next to Phil. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Really,” Phil said, laughing into Dan’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Dan groaned, and then Phil’s eyes were right there, so close, and then they were even closer, and their lips were touching, and it was nothing and everything like Dan had imagined.

Phil was warm and soft and solid in his mouth, under his hands, beneath his skin. His hands ran over Dan’s chest, dipped under his shirt. Dan gasped.

“You okay?” Phil asked, his normally light eyes dark with concern and something else.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Yeah, that felt… really nice.”

“Okay,” Phil said, running his hands down Dan’s arms. “We don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Dan said, gripping Phil back. “Please don’t stop.”

“Okay,” Phil said, and he kissed him again, and this time he didn’t stop.

Afterwards, when the heat and grasping hands were done, Dan sat up, but Phil pulled him back down.

“Don’t go,” he said, wrapping his arms around Dan.

So Dan didn’t.

***

Dan’s alarm was blaring. He shifted, mindlessly, reaching for his phone to turn it off.

He fell out of bed. “Ow,” he mumbled, finally getting his phone to shut up.

Phil’s head poked out from his bedsheets. “Dan?” he asked groggily.

“I have a class,” Dan said, pulling his boxers on.

“It’s so early,” Phil said.

“Yeah,” Dan snapped. “That’s how eight am’s work, Phil.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Phil said, sitting up. “Do you need anything?”

“How long does it take to get to the main quad from here?” Dan asked, yanking his shirt over his head.

“Like half an hour? I can walk you-”

“Fuck,” Dan said, looking at his phone (which was at a disturbingly low percentage). “I’m going to be late.”

“You can skip, Dan, I really want to talk to you-”

“No, I can’t,” Dan said harshly. He was tying his shoes now.

“Okay,” Phil said, “But Dan, we really need to-”

Dan left before Phil could finish his sentence.

***

He wasn’t sure if he should have bothered going to class. All he could think about was Phil anyway. The way his hands felt tangled in his hair. The way his mouth felt on his skin. Certainly not definite integrals.

He had classes back to back until his CS 115 lab. He didn’t even have time to go back to his dorm to change, just to scarf down a quick meal in the dining hall. He hoped no one noticed he was wearing yesterday’s clothes, but who even would? It wasn’t like anyone cared enough about him to pay enough attention.

He considered skipping his lab. He never really got anything out of it, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to face Phil possibly ever again.

He checked his grade. Well. No chance of missing lab, then.

He slunk in the back of the classroom and chose the closest seat to the door. He tried not to make eye contact with Phil when he walked in. Phil didn’t even seem to notice Dan. He looked disgustingly put together, Dan thought. He had no right to look like everything was fine.

Phil approached his lab table. Dan looked down.

“Dan?” Phil said. “Can I speak with you after class?”

Dan’s face was hot. He continued staring resolutely at the table. “Fine.”

“You and your boyfriend fighting, Howell?” the guy at the end of his lab table mocked.

“That was inappropriate, Nathan,” Phil said.

Nathan just rolled his eyes. Dan’s face got even hotter.

He didn’t finish his lab. At a certain point, he gave up trying. He was useless at coding, and he was even more useless with Phil standing behind him every time he turned around. He scowled, staring at his screen, willing a solution to appear. He was almost grateful when Phil dismissed the class and he could put his laptop away and give up.

He started to head out the door when he heard Phil’s voice.

“Dan,” Phil said.

Dan turned around, rolling his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Phil blushed. “I hope you didn’t forget about our meeting,” he managed, flustered.

“How could I forget?” Dan asked, sarcasm lacing his voice.

“Dan.” Phil took a deep breath. “I’m trying to give you some leeway right now, given the situation. But that is not an appropriate way to speak to your TA.”

Dan stared at Phil sullenly.

“Okay,” Phil said. “Dan, you’re not doing very well in this class.”

Dan continued staring.

“I’m not here to encourage you to drop the class or anything. Hopefully this is a temporary setback we can work through. There are a lot of resources available to you as a student of this university. We want you to succeed.”

“That’s nice,” Dan said. “Anything else?”

Phil sighed. “Dan, can we talk?”

“About what?”

“I think you know what. You kind of ran off this morning.” Phil took Dan’s silence as encouragement to keep talking. “Dan, I- I shouldn’t have done that. I’m your TA, and you’re my student. That’s bad enough. But Dan, you’re my friend. I wanted to make sure that everything we did last night… that you were okay with it.”

Dan stared at the ground.

“I would never want to hurt you. But you need to tell me if I did.”

“You didn’t,” Dan said.

Phil relaxed slightly. “I’m glad. But I’m still sorry.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “It was that bad, huh?”

“I just meant- Dan, I really like you. But I can’t do this while you’re my student. I’m sorry. I just can’t. Maybe next semester, if we’re both still interested, but right now, I’m just not comfortable with that.”

“Great,” Dan said.

“Really, I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends.”

Dan’s stomach twisted. “Friends.”

“It’s okay if you can’t do that. It’s okay if you never want to see me again. You can switch lab sections. You can-“

“No,” Dan said. “You’re literally my only friend. I’m not losing you over something as stupid as this.”

“That’s really sweet,” Phil said. “But you really need to get more friends.”

“I know,” Dan said. He did, unfortunately, but knowing he needed more friends didn’t mean it was easy to make them.

“Dan. If we’re going to be friends, I just need you to know I really am sorry. It was my job not to cross any boundaries, not yours, and now I’ve gone and made it all weird.”

“Stop acting like this is all your fault!” Dan exploded. “Stop sitting there fucking apologizing like you did something I didn’t want. I’m nineteen, I knew what I was doing, and if I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have fucking said I wanted it.”

Phil stared at Dan. “Dan, I- look, I’m just saying-”

“Well, stop.”

Phil raised his hands defensively. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Okay then. I guess we’re done. Unless you have anything else you want to say.”

Dan glared at him. “No.”

“Okay. See you next week, unless you decide to switch lab sections.” Phil reached for his coat.

“Wait,” Dan said. “I have a question.”

“About?”

“Computer Science.”

“Okay,” Phil said, stepping closer to Dan.

“Do you like CS?” Dan asked quietly.

Phil sighed. “It’s, well, it’s a love-hate relationship. And to be completely honest, I hate it more than I love it most days. But when I love it, I really love it. And even when I hate it, I really do believe that software has the power to change the world. And I want to be a part of that change.”

Dan nodded, staring at the floor.

Phil moved even closer. “I know a lot of people go into CS for the wrong reasons,” he continued, even more gently. “It sounds cool or the starting salaries are so high or they want the power to reshape the world in their image. And then they get here and it turns out computer science is hard, and frustrating, and time consuming, and sometimes, it’s just not for them. And that’s okay. It doesn’t make them any less valuable to society or less intelligent.”

Dan stared even more intently at the floor, willing himself not to cry.

“Are you thinking of changing majors?” Phil asked.

“I don’t know,” Dan said, and his voice came out disturbingly watery. “What would I even change it too?”

“You can figure that out. It’s okay if you do. It’s not for everyone.”

“No, it’s not,” Dan said. He blinked and suddenly the tears that he had been trying to hold back rushed out. “It’s not,” he repeated, this time through a sob.

“Dan,” Phil said, reaching for him, then closing his fist on thin air. “I’m really sorry.”

“For the last time, Phil. Stop apologizing.”

“I just want you to be happy, Dan. I hate seeing you like this.”

“That must be really fucking hard for you, Phil. Want to tell me more?” Dan couldn’t help the bitter laugh that spilled from his throat.

Phil watched helplessly. “Computer science is hard, Dan. Especially if this is your first class. Computer science is frustrating and confusing and hard and no one’s code ever works right on the first try and if you’ve never had a breakdown over an assignment you either have incredible time management skills or you’ve only been doing CS for like a month or you’re a liar. And I’m not going to pretend that doesn’t suck, but you come out from it a better version of yourself each time. I’m the programmer I am today because of all of the times I’ve failed.”

Dan couldn’t help the waves of anger that rose up sharp and aching in his lungs. “That’s great, Phil, thanks. Thank you so much for being helpful. Really, it’s all going to be fine, because even though I’m fucking miserable, I’ll be a better person at the end of the day.”

“If you’re really that miserable you should drop,” Phil said.

Dan was silent.

“The drop deadline for CS 115 is in a week,” Phil said. “You have time to think about it.”

Dan nodded and wiped at his face.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked desperately.

“I don’t think so,” Dan said.

They stood in silence for a few more moments before Dan left. “I don’t think we should talk anymore,” he said shakily, before walking out. Dan didn’t look back, and Phil didn’t follow. He went back to his dorm room, where he was finally able to cry again.

***

The actual moment was rather anticlimactic. The form was less than a page, and all he needed to do for it to be official was get his academic advisor to sign it, which wasn’t difficult, considering his grade in CS 115. Then he uploaded it as a PDF to his student portal and his major change was approved two days later.

Dan expected to feel better afterwards. Somehow, even though this had been sitting like a pit in his stomach for months, he just felt worse.

Without CS 115, his schedule felt weirdly empty. He had gaps in his schedule where he used to go to lecture (sometimes), study, work on the MP, and have mental breakdowns.

He left his dorm more often. He paid more attention in his other classes. He even made a few friends from his film class that he studied with sometimes. They even had time to hang out when they weren’t doing homework. One of the girls in the group probably had a crush on him. Dan supposed she was kind of cute. He didn’t know. He didn’t know much of anything lately, including what the fuck his sexuality was and whether or not he wanted to mess with some girl’s feelings in the process of finding out. And that was without even considering whatever the fuck had happened with Phil- if he was ready to move on from that relationship, if it could even be called that.

Dan filled his life with the things college was supposedly supposed to be about. He went to parties. He spent time with friends. He stayed up too late. He experimented with his look, leaving his hair in its natural, curly state instead of straightening it every morning. He wore clothes that weren’t baggy sweatshirts and jeans. He painted his nails. He even started wearing a tiny bit of makeup.

So why did he still feel so empty? It was probably natural after a breakup, or whatever you were supposed to call what had happened between him and Phil.

Dan had no reference for “normal.” He didn’t know what this was supposed to feel like, but he had a hunch that it wasn’t like this.

He stumbled through his days. He made an appointment with his school’s mental health center, but he wouldn’t be able to see a therapist for at least three weeks. Midterms were coming up, the woman on the phone explained, and they always filled up quickly around then. For now, all he could do was wait.

About two weeks later, he got a text from Phil.

You down for coffee today? I know you said you didn’t want to see me which I totally understand but I really miss you and I want to talk some things over.

Dan wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t even sure if he did want to see Phil again.

idk i have a lot of homework

Phil replied almost instantly. You can bring your homework! I have some work to do too

Dan hesitated.

His phone dinged. We can be study buddies lol. It’ll be fun

Again. If you don’t want to come that’s fine. I just wanted to talk

Dan picked up his phone. sure, he typed, sending it before he could regret it.

Alright! 3:00?

sure, Dan sent again.

Perfect! See you then!

And then Dan had nothing to do but wait.

He regretted not asking Phil to meet up with him earlier than three. Now he was just going to spend the next two hours feeling incredibly anxious.

He tried to work on some homework, but he couldn’t focus. He could feel the same feelings he used to have for Phil bubbling up inside of him again, and he did his best to shove them down. Last time they spoke, Phil had said he wanted them to be friends. He had also had sex with him, so Dan felt Phil was sending a few mixed signals, but that wasn’t the point.

Dan wasn’t even sure what he hoped to gain out of a conversation with Phil. Closure, maybe? Some sort of reconciliation?

He certainly wasn’t hoping for a relationship. Was he? He wouldn’t have agreed to meet with Phil if he didn’t at least want to be friends. Probably.

He let himself imagine it. Just for a second.

He shut his laptop, grabbed his keys, and shoved his sneakers on. He needed a walk. He went through the process of leaving his dorm almost automatically, taking the back staircase instead of the elevator so he wouldn’t have to run into anyone else. Once outside, he shoved his hands in his pockets, doing his best to ignore the chill in the air.

He had put on his angstiest short playlist before he left, but when it ended about half an hour into the walk, Dan’s hands were too cold for him to even consider taking them out of his sweatshirt pockets for long enough to select a new playlist, so he just went back to his dorm, collapsing on his bed. He checked his phone. He still had an hour to go. He glanced longingly at his Xbox.

He probably had time for a quick game, he decided, reaching for his controller.

After just under fifty minutes of Skyrim, he felt much better. He rolled out of his bed, and after messing with his hair for a bit in the mirror, he put his thickest sweatshirt back on and left for The Daily Grind.

He spotted Phil almost immediately, staring at his laptop with two coffees sitting in front of him.

Dan approached.

Phil looked up. “I’ve got our drinks,” he said.

“That was fast,” Dan said.

Phil shrugged. “Maybe I got here ten minutes early to make sure you had your coffee when you got here. Who knows?”

“Thanks,” Dan said, sipping his coffee.

“Yeah, of course,” Phil said, and the way he said it made it sound so much like Dan had done him the favor that he almost believed him for a second.

They sat in silence for a while, before Dan spoke. “I submitted my major change form.”

Phil’s face lit up. “Dan, that’s great! What did you decide to change it to?”

“I was thinking something more arts-based. I’m taking a film class this semester and I really like it. I also really like the idea of creative writing. I don’t know.”

“Well, the good thing about most humanities majors is that it’s way easier to pick up a double major or a minor than in engineering. I actually really wanted to minor in English in undergrad, but I just didn’t have the time.”

“Wow,” Dan said. “How didn’t I know that?”

Phil shrugged. “I don’t talk about it a lot. Everyone has dreams that died, I guess. It’s impossible to fit them all into one life.”

“What if I don’t have any dreams?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Phil said with so much confidence that Dan almost believed him.

“I guess,” Dan said.

They were quiet for a few more minutes. “I dropped CS 115 too,” Dan said.

Phil looked up, his smile slowly growing. “I’m that shitty of a TA, huh?”

“I feel bad,” Dan confessed.

“I always felt bad whenever I dropped a class in undergrad,” Phil said. “I can’t imagine dropping out of an entire major.”

Dan focused on his coffee. “You said you liked being a TA because you liked to help students succeed.”

Phil paused. “I did,” he said. “And I do. It’s probably the most rewarding part of my job, and I’m going to miss it a lot after I graduate.”

“Even after watching people like me fail?” Dan asked.

“Dan,” Phil said. “No. You didn’t fail. You realized a subject wasn’t for you. That’s incredibly different.”

Dan shrugged. He didn’t really want to get into an argument with Phil, but he still felt like a failure, and he wasn’t sure anything could change that.

Phil sighed and changed the subject. “So how have things been going for you?”

Dan filled Phil in on the changes in his life, and Phil talked a bit about what had been going on in his. They avoided any difficult topics, choosing to stick with idle chitchat instead, but the pit in Dan’s stomach was growing.

There were some things he needed to ask. He gathered his courage. “Are you doing anything today?”

Phil looked slightly surprised, but he just shrugged. “Depends why you ask.”

“I’d like to hang out some more. If that’s okay.”

Phil blinked. “Hang out… why?”

Dan shrugged. “You’re really cool and I’d like to be friends with you.”

Phil looked disappointed. “That’s all?”

“Well.” Dan took a deep breath and looked at Phil’s eyes, studied their not-quite-familiar composition of blue and yellow and gold. “Maybe more. If you’d like.”

Phil reached across the table to take Dan’s hand. “I think I would.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more moments before Dan spoke. “You know, it’s getting cold out.”

Phil smiled. “It is. You still need that jacket?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Want to head to my place then? You can grab it there, and we can… hang out. Do whatever you want.”

Dan smiled. “Sure.”

Dan left Phil’s apartment the next morning. He forgot Phil’s jacket.

Oh well. He’d just have to come back.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #my writing #phan au

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