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sariahsue · 3 years

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A Cat of Their Own - Ch 1

Sabine checked her phone again in anxiety. There hadn't been an akuma attack in the last two days, which meant that one would begin any second. She'd been telling herself that every few minutes since breakfast. Tom was playing video games with Marinette, hunched forward over his controller. He was supposed to be getting information out of her, but it didn't look like he was trying too hard. Sabine watched them while she stirred the soup. Steam rose off the surface in faint curls and twists.

The phone screen lit up, and she grabbed it. An emergency alert. An akuma had been spotted. Civilians were advised to shelter in place until Ladybug and Cat Noir had dealt with the problem.

It was the same message that she'd read dozens of times (and ignored more often than that), but now it made her mind numb with fear. But she had to go through with their plan.

"Oh, there's another akuma attack." Her voice sounded hollow and forced. To her dismay, Marinette immediately paused her game and turned around, eyebrows pinched with concern.

"Where is it?"

"Parc Montsouris," Sabine said. "I just got the text."

Marinette looked out the window, her face steely, game controller forgotten next to her. Tom and Sabine shared a worried glance.

"Dinner won't be ready for another half hour," Sabine said, then took a deep breath to keep her voice from shaking. This was the most important stage of the plan. "Did you finish all your homework?" Please. Please, say yes.

"Oh, uh, now that you mention it, I do remember that I forgot to do something." Marinette waved goodbye quickly, then bolted up her stairs, letting the trapdoor thump loudly behind her. Sabine came to sit next to Tom, soup completely abandoned.

"It's looking likely," he said. Sabine could only nod. Her fingers were cold, and she flexed them to try to bring life back to them, but it didn't help. Her whole body felt numb, and she wondered if she would actually go into shock.

Tom reached for the remote and switched to the news. Cat Noir flitted across the screen, fighting a giant frog monster by himself. He jumped off window ledges and rolled across the empty street to avoid a steady stream of some type of red projectile.

The camera was far away, and the angle was bad so it was difficult to tell, but he looked like a teenager himself. He was thin and lanky, like he was in the middle of a growth spurt.

"We could still be wrong," Tom said.

Nod.

Ladybug swung into view amid scattered applause. Cat Noir dodged a jet of steaming red goo that shot out of the akuma's wide mouth and shouted hello to his partner. She waved back, her cheerfulness jarring against the backdrop of the fight and Sabine's own dread.

"Do you want me to check?" Tom asked.

She couldn't even nod. The screen had her transfixed. She barely registered the shift of the sofa and the creak of the floorboards under his footsteps.

Tom reached the top of the stairs. "Marinette?" No answer. He knocked on the trapdoor, and it sounded hollow. "Marinette?"

Sabine closed her eyes as the trapdoor creaked open and Tom's footsteps disappeared into their daughter's room.

Faint screams and gasps from the television filled the room while Sabine sat and waited, holding her breath. She didn't even hear Tom come back down.

"She's not there," he said, sitting down next to her and grabbing her hand. "And the skylight's propped open."

She squeezed back tightly. "That basically confirms it," Sabine finally said. "Our daughter is Ladybug."

Tom sighed. "Yeah."

On the screen, reporters were running for shelter, hiding behind cars and in recessed doorways, Cat Noir was yelling at civilians to stay out of the way, and bright red puddles sizzled on the cracked pavement.

"What are we going to do?" Sabine asked. "How did this even happen?"

The questions she wanted to ask were why Marinette had never told them, and how could they have not noticed for so long? How was Sabine supposed to keep her own child safe?

The camera shook as the crew set up again, much farther away, but Sabine wished they could do one closeup shot of Ladybug's face. Maybe they'd made a mistake. One good look at her face, and Sabine would be able to prove herself wrong about the superheroine's identity.

The battle had looked fine up close, but from a distance it didn't look like it was going well. The super duo was on the defensive and having a hard time avoiding the frog's goo. The akuma had covered most of the available surfaces already, so they had fewer and fewer places to safely land. Ladybug hung from a lamppost. Cat Noir was just above her, perched on top of the light her yoyo was connected to.

The cameraman crept closer and closer, finally stopping when he was a mere twenty feet from the fight, and Ladybug yelled at him. Sabine squinted at the television, but the image changed too fast, focusing instead on the monster. It was a little smaller than a car. Its muscles rippled as it stalked toward the two heroes.

"We should turn this off," Tom said, though he made no move for the remote. "She's going to be fine."

"No, I need to watch."

They flinched and gasped for the next few minutes, and Sabine shrieked when Ladybug slipped and got hit in the chest. It knocked her to the ground, but she sprung back up before Cat Noir could reach her, even though he ran at top speed, ignoring the spray aimed for him and almost getting hit himself.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine just... Ugh! Gross!"

"You could say you're in a sticky situation," Cat Noir said, before laughing loudly at his own joke and his partner's predicament. Sabine's heart was still pounding as she clamped down on Tom's hand.

Ladybug's face tightened with the effort of holding in her laughter, then scooped a bunch of the stuff off her stomach and reached to touch him. Thick strands of it hung off her fingers.

"Oh no, not slime!" Cat Noir jumped back, dodging both Ladybug and the akuma, who shot another mouthful at them. "Slime! Whatever will I do?"

Tom pulled Sabine closer. "Well, it doesn't look like a very dangerous one."

She was sure he was trying to reassure himself as much as her, but she wasn't having any of it. "They should be taking this threat seriously," she said. "If they're overconfident..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, so it hung in the room along with her dread.

Sabine was unfortunately right to worry. The frog reared back on its hind legs and came down on the street so hard it cracked the pavement, letting out a wide stream of the goo. Ladybug, still distracted with teasing her partner, didn't react fast enough. Cat Noir did, and he jumped forward fast enough to shield her, though he got a faceful of slime. He spat it out on the ground while Sabine and Tom leaned forward in their seats, desperate to know if he was all right.

Ladybug just patted him on the back and laughed while he wiped his face with both hands.

"See?" Tom said. "See? He's fine. They're both fine."

"That thing can break pavement. What if it had landed on them?"

But the atmosphere changed as their daughter laughed with her friend. They seemed so earnest in their amusement and maybe even relaxed. The voices of the onlookers and reporters changed in response, becoming less strained. A few people laughed along with them.

The news report itself even changed. Cat Noir tried smearing the goo on a camera as a warning when it got too close, smiling the whole time, while Ladybug rolled her eyes at his antics.

Her parents watched their exchange in interest. Despite the levity they were injecting into the fight, Cat Noir was obviously still very protective of their daughter, which they were both grateful for. He pushed her out of the way of another jet of slime when she was distracted by her own Lucky Charm, and he didn't hesitate to continue fighting without her while she took a few minutes to set up a trap for the monster. They didn't miss the adoration on his face as he watched her.

Ladybug – Marinette – was protective of her partner too. When the monster got too close to him, she would yell out a warning. When it landed on top of him with another sickening crack, she dropped the trap she was crafting and leapt forward to wrench the monster off of him. To anyone else, Ladybug still looked calm and in control, but to her parents, they saw the panic that briefly flashed across her face when she realized her partner might be hurt.

That delay made the fight take a little longer than it might otherwise have been. At the end, Ladybug dashed off, hand over an earring. Cat Noir waved at her as she left, a hesitant smile on his face, then turned and comforted the frog victim, who was now nothing more than a disheveled and confused-looking man in his fifties.

"She'll be coming home soon," Tom said. "Should we go up there and wait for her?"

"Not yet," Sabine said.

The reporters were trying to get close again, no doubt to interview Cat Noir and the latest victim. The poor man looked shaken, and Cat Noir did his best to shield him from the reporters, finally picking him up and carrying him away.

"We need to talk to her about this," Tom said.

They fought against impossible odds with laughter, though they were both just children. And Cat Noir cared about their daughter so much, that was plain. How deep did that go?

"We need to talk to him too," she said.

Read Chapter Two

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Author’s note: This is a reblogging of an old thing that I originally posted two years ago. I’ve altered it slightly. (Content-wise, nothing is different.) If you’re curious, the original can be found here.

Chapter two is almost completely done, and I think chapter three is in okay shape, so hopefully those updates will both be next week.

@tbehartoo @redhoodsdoll @salsyy301 @lunadensmidnightprowl

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #i've been saying for two years that i've been meaning to finish this story #I'M GOING TO FINISH IT

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jae-canikeepyou · 4 years

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| closer | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: au + idol!jae & choreographer/dancer!yn

a/n: this request is long overdue but here it is! :) i’m sorry for the long wait ;-; it’s challenging to write since i’m not a dancer so my explanation’s a lil’ suckish. also! i had to edit a song remix for this oneshot, so the dance and imagination’s clearly up to you *wink wink* enjoy reading! ~j

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though you lost count of the frequent, unexplainable somersaults you experienced in your stomach, you weren’t sure whether this always happen whenever you were told to join other dancers to monitor a routine for a group. perhaps it was just you, that today felt entirely different compared to when you first started.

as far as your career went, this was the only time you felt so stressed. and by ‘stressed’, it didn’t mean that the boys’ couldn’t get the steps right— they were fast learners and the choreography you helped co-create wouldn’t be a problem to them.

nct 127’s rehearsals were at a spacious backstage for straight two days now. in those short days, there was a certain air that lingered and you couldn’t fathom it properly. with you around, the boys would suddenly crowd in a circle, anywhere in the area, and began to utter out whispers you hoped your ears were able to hear. maybe if you were reincarnated, you’d choose an animal with great hearing to be able to hear what they were saying.

and honestly it got you wanting to pull your hair out because.. what if?

what if they disliked how you were a person of few words during practice? or that they preferred if you gave more feedbacks toward their dance like other choreographers who came before you? there weren’t any hints leading to the source of action and really, if this was an actual investigation you’d be removed from the team for not having quick-wits.

taeyong immediately became your close friend right when you were introduced to them by your seniors. he had this you-can-tell-me-anything aura all over him and was the only person you always conversed with among the boys. given that you were part of the choreo team since kick-it era, the boys welcomed you; like so much. but in those greetings, a gut feeling kept bothering you that you would be pulled into something.. perhaps something you might not be able to handle? you wouldn’t know. it was a gut feeling anyway, fifty percent of your intuition were always proven wrong.

you stared at the widespread mirror, arms up to record them while examining their moves and rhythms to the beat. they were tired, you could tell with the way they swayed and continuously wipe off the sweat rolling down their temples. so you decided to give them a break after three hours of practice.

replaying the video over and over to check if they got the timing right, taeyong went to sit by your side gulping and squeezing the water bottle. “relax y/n. you’ll get more wrinkles if you keep doing that.” he nudged you gently to catch your full atttention from the phone.

“do what, exactly?” you looked at him, eyebrows furrowed tiredly above your death-gazing eyes.

he poked you with the butt of the cold bottle he held, where beads from it soaked your forehead. “this.” he lectured you again, almost annoying to the ears. “it’s not at all attractive.”

“we both agreed you have better brows than me but ouch that’s rude. i think i’m quite pretty and you know it.” you return a playful poke that had him nearly trampling backwards, a slight sting felt by your ankle once you regained balance.

per usual, you disregarded his innocent comment and continued to monitor the practice via phone. he didn’t mean it and you knew that. taeyong kept bugging you to cool off from work and hang out with them since you were all good friends to begin with. of course that development happened in a span of few months to be able for you all to reach that certain relationship.

however, was it possible to attain the level of intimacy when recently, all you felt from the other guys was the weird gap? you couldn’t even describe the awkward distance. taeyong shook both of his sleeves into sweaterpaws to rub the droplets on your forehead.

“quite pretty? you’re beautiful! you’re like a cool princess every guy wants and i’d honestly date you if what we are isn’t platonic.” he danced in a wave effect with his arm. you gently hit his chest for being very vocal even if it just was the two of you.

“aww, you always know how to make me feel better! thanks.” you sweetly compliment him for a second before your smile turned into a frown.

at the corners of your peripheral, johnny, jungwoo, mark, donghyuck and yuta all averted your scrutiny. the action was obvious and quick, but what made it more suspicious was that it happened respectively like falling dominos. although they did typical and cliché gestures of escapism from your response, still they pretended to ignore you either with their hands shoved in pockets or whistles of their own song.

a surrendering huff caught taeyong’s attention. you never sighed nor show any emotions of distress before and this was a little concerning to him. “what’s wrong y/n?” he turned around to see the others minding their own business despite taeyong already realising the edginess they showed.

“can you help me figure something out with them?” you begged as you tilted your gently slightly to the side. “it’s been weeks and i have no idea why they’re acting this way. am i that unapproachable compared to my seniors?”

taeyong suddenly pursed his lips to a small circle as if he was hiding some top secret information that was ‘exclusive for members only’. “oh- y’know.” he nodded quite repetitively but with hesitating breaks in between. he knew what you were going to ask him since it hasn’t been the first time. he usually could dodge your curiosity and wondered why he couldn’t now. “they’re p-probably just chilling.. like always.. yep.” he popped the ‘p’ and stood. “i’m sure it’s because they’re tired from rehearsals!”

things couldn’t just get any weirder. you squinted your eyes as you scooted in closer to him. “you’re stuttering. you never do that.” you pointed out, observing his wavering eyes. “do you know something-”

he stammered and gently pushed you away a little like it would stop you from asking further. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking a-about.”

“hm you sure about that?” you hummed and he mouthed a ‘yes’. “you don’t know what’s coming after you if i figure it out buddy.”

“i’m sure, y/n. stop being a worrywart.” taeyong pinched your cheeks. “i’ll let know you right away if i hear anything out of the ordinary.”

“uh-huh. jaehyun’s the one i think who’s ’out of the ordinary’. we never talked. just hi’s and bye’s and he doesn’t smile at me.” you commented as you spotted him at the entrance door. “bummer, i really find him good-looking..” your phone buzzed a message from your leader. technically he wasn’t, but a person in-charge of your schedules to teach other idol groups.

somehow you felt a wave of relief that you would be out of the venue for the day. it would be assuring to not be around 127 for a while when they behaved like they did. who knew thinking too much would bring exhaustion? this was more tiring than dancing. a lot more. you swung your phone to taeyong, telling him that you were going to leave. “i gotta go, see you.”

“oh, alright. take care.” taeyong waved subtly, confused as to why you suddenly spoke of jaehyun out of the blue.

you let out a long sigh and exited the venue with thoughts of wonder; they were good people and most definitely you were the approachable type, so why were they keeping distance besides taeyong? johnny, yuta and donghyuck were super friendly, and it’s unlike them to suddenly keep quiet. mark and jungwoo were fun to tease; seeing the expressions they usually don’t put on around you was really fishy. taeil and doyoung have similar affection for you because you were like a little sister and.. jaehyun?

well.. jaehyun’s jaehyun, and among them, he was the far-fetched one. that was what you felt from him,

from the beginning.

because every single time you crossed paths, he would look away right when you locked eyes with him. there was no smile, no expression.

nothing at all.

maybe it pinched your heart a little. and maybe there would be a right time for this. just maybe not today. hopefully that wouldn’t extend for another month. hopefully you would get to talk to him like you did with the rest of them. it was a challenging to be patient when you’ve kind of taken a liking on jaehyun despite the inexplainable treatment. he was.. cute.

once you were out of the group’s sight, jaehyun came in with a duffle bag and a beanie— that basically made his hair in a frenzy- along with taeil & doyoung. he had his arms frantically shaking as if he was trying to reason out. “i can’t hold a normal conversation without tensing up.” he dropped his belongings and joined the crowd, not noticing the growing smirks slowly coming into view from his friends.

“and you think choosing to freeze and stare would make her talk to you?” taeil asked straight up. “that’s called cowardice bro.”

jaehyun combed his hair back and wore his beanie again when the focus was shifted to him. “no it’s not. it’s called being shy.. i guess.” he crossed his arm, unsure of his answer as well.

mark took a sip of watermelon juice, later eyeing a bowl sitting peacefully on one side of the table for seconds. “hyung, do you expect to get closer to y/n if you act like that though?” he gave johnny a side-eye as he hid his smile behind the cup, to whom the latter responded the same.

“all of us are trying to keep quiet of your ecstasy towards her like you asked us to.” jungwoo implored because what was done has to be said eventually. “and now she thinks we’re hiding something from her, i can feel her suspicions for the past weeks.”

“did you make it obvious?” jaehyun hissed a little. “i warned you to act natural-”

johnny wrapped the young man in his arms, earning laughs from the others. “the one who’s not acting natural is you. i thought you’re a straight-forward kind of guy. this should be a piece of cake for you.”

“everyone, please come to the center.” their manager called them to gather up, informing details regarding the next schedule for the week.

sm town concert was just a week away and they’ve been practicing nonstop for it. the exhaustion on their faces fled when the manager said something that would make the fans see them in a different light. some staff giggled at their reactions, some told them to go with it, the rest just wanted to see how it would turn out to be. the boys weren’t expecting it, not at a sudden time like this when they’ve gotten the rundown memorised already.

normally they complied and no arguments were brought forwards. now they managed to scream all vocabularies to reason out that another dance routine would make them more exhausted than before. “we’re not pulling a prank nor a hidden camera if that’s what you’re thinking. anyway, the added part is around a minute interlude.. it’s before the actual track. only one of you will dance it.”

yeses and cheers of relief made majority of the staff exchange looks because they weren’t finish with the information they received. “this interlude is by volunteer, so whoever wants to do it just raise your hand or come up front.” the manager instructed as he wrote down the minutes, later both of his brows arched high forasmuch to his surprise, the decision was quickly decided; it would usually take the boys a while. “oh! thanks for being cooperative, jaehyun! the rehearsal starts tomorrow...”

jaehyun’s head never shot up as fast as it did just now. he didn’t pay attention to the short meeting and since all of the voices were indistinct to him, he was astonished with hearing his name being said. he wondered why they concluded with him doing the interlude. in his head a second ago, he was coming up with plans to finally— and normally— conversate with you. and upon turning around, his friends failed to keep their snickers in. they all simultaneously took a step back, leaving the dimpled boy remain standing in his position.

“...and take ten, then we’ll proceed to the last two songs for today.” the manager left the boys for a break.

wheezing breaths and heavy falls on the floor were soon followed by exploding laughters. they were like fireworks, jolting the nerves out of jaehyun and he rolled his eyes at his friends’ intentions to tease him. “that’s not fair, you guys plotted against me.” he pinched the bridge of his nose when a flush of betrayal finally covered his entire conscience.

they laughed since it was a reaction they expected, but more so when he missed out the most crucial information. “oh my g- he doesn’t know! hahaha!” haechan and jungwoo clung onto each other for support. it was too much to handle.

yuta scooted close to johnny, who had his phone up the whole time. “that was on record, yeah?” he asked and the latter grinned devilishly.

“rgha!” jaehyun growled, soon accepting the role that was predestined to him. “i swear john if you-”

“he didn’t really hear it!” mark cut him off and joined the younger ones, hitting each other and as they couldn’t believe that jaehyun, could be this dense. “wow this is insane!”

jaehyun’s ears turned faint pink. he didn’t like the excessive attention he was getting from his friends, and he has no idea what the sudden outbursts were all about. “hear what, exactly?” he had a petulant expression and shifted his weight on one leg as he waited for the answer.

taeyong choked a giggle at his question. it was similar with yours when you innocently asked earlier. “jaehyun, he said the other half of the remix duet is y/n. you’ll dance with her tomorrow, and until the concert.”

his heart pumped so fast that he didn’t know how to react; whether it was due to obvious fact that he would see you again for the third time this week, or it was your name and his.. in the same sentence.

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if there was something you didn’t like to experience again in your life, that would be spraying your nose in public. good grief, and it had to happen nearby the boys. you shut your eyes closed at the sprinkly yet piercing shock rising up from the nostrils to your head. after few seconds of calming down, youngjoon pat your head as if that would bring you comfort. not really.

“i thought hana’s doing the nct dance duet?” you rubbed the small tears from the corners of your eyes, the striking pain still lingered around your senses a little.

he shrugged that his shoulders the action made you think he has something to do with the sudden change of plans. but assuming too much would ruin your mood and affect the way you dance later, so you let it slide for today.

“i’m your senior. you’ll do what i decided on,” he gave you his phone; the title of the track was one that you were told to choreograph. “it’s about time your monitoring days are over. anyway, you’ll dance with..” youngjoon trailed off himself.

you scanned the spacious venue to figure who he was referring to. none came into your mind until jaehyun walked past by you, and youngjoon pulled him close. “ah! with him!”

oh great, i’m dancing with mr. far-fetched.

staring off into space, taeyong appeared briefly in your peripheral, mouthing that jaehyun ‘volunteered’ for the interlude— which didn’t really add up why he would decide to do this performance when he hasn’t talked to you at all.

it was funny how friendly and warm jaehyun was to your fellow choreographers. he would smile freely and offer spare bottles or snacks. however, he looked stiff now and you craved for answers for strange his behaviour. still, you would be lying to yourself if you said he somehow made you.. squirmy, in a good way.

“let’s work well.” he heard you speak as you began to walk to the centre of the venue, jaehyun soon following you from behind.

he noticed the boys sitting on bleachers for a break, secretly snapping pictures to tease him later on. they mouthed and told him to talk— he was leaving you hanging and making a lady wait for a response was not a gentleman thing to do. he was stunned with your natural beauty and to think you were before him, just made him realise that this was the chance,

to get closer.

because remembering what taeyong told him yesterday, his friends told him to step up his game after it was revealed you found him good-looking. that alone should be enough for jaehyun to have the courage to hold a conversation with you. soon jaehyun cleared his throat, pulled his t-shirt collar and bit his inner gums. “yeah, likewise.” jaehyun cleared his throat. “this should be easy. where should we begin?”

“this is the track we’re dancing to.” you fished out your phone to let him listen to the new version, noticing how youngjoon nod at you.

the said man approached, whispering words that had you wanting to facepalm. a gasp escaped your lips and jaehyun raised a brow in curiosity. “i’m gonna kill her-” your face bubbled up in subtle anger.

jaehyun couldn’t hear much, the volume of the interlude was loud enough to make your voices inaudible. he wasn’t good at lip reading too, but he felt different when his eyes met with yours. a smile you wore earlier flattened, your positivity was still there, yet little did he know the changes made on the spot. youngjoon walked back to the mixer and made jaehyun’s hair a mess.

oh how the gods and goddesses of love must’ve liked shooting arrows continuously at his barely-comprehending mind. he almost ran out of breath hearing those words come out of your mouth and he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy for him.

because to him you were a beautiful distraction.

he recalled how you first met in the practice room during kick-it era; comfy clothes, a chill person with light make-up colours and pretty much his friends instantly introduced themselves. he wished that he was close to you as taeyong was. hopefully by the time the whole concert video was out, fans wouldn’t make a meme out of him given the fact that they did when mc-ing for broadcasts, he unknowingly created a gap between himself and other girl groups.

half an hour had passed and perhaps at this minute, you decided to take back what you said; that they were fast learners. proven you wrong, again. some of them were but jaehyun kept messing up and you were close to losing your patience. he couldn’t get things right. whenever you asked him if he was alright, he claimed to have gotten the hang of the steps taught earlier.

what a lie that was. so far he has stepped your shoes, bumped you though they were minor, and missed some moves. what made you teeth grit was that he looked like he wasn’t aware he did those at all.

ugh look at him. he can do better than this. if he doesn’t catch up, i’m requesting for another member to dance with me.

although he quickly memorised his solo part before dancing with you, the one second break in between have already made him forget the next step. he wasn’t in the right mind, he knew that much and was continuously questioned himself why he lost concentration. dancing with naeun was an exemption. she was a fellow mc, and even then he was shy to hold her hand. but this? this was different. this was more than just holding hands. this included skinship he has never done before, let alone executing intimate movements.

“pretend you’re pulling a lever as she flicks her hips side and back the second time. your hands should be by her hips.” youngjoon instructed, observing jaehyun’s shaky movements at the mirror reflection with reference from the video you sent him before. “good. jae, body wave to the left. y/n to the right and both swing your shoulders outwards..”

but if he wasn’t in the right mind, you were slowly getting there too. the more you were faced with jaehyun, the more you head became fuzzy. you could feel yourself heating up and this wasn’t due to the dance at all. “y/n, caress his jaw and grab him close.”

jaehyun gulped, trying not mind his friends and focus on the routine. “oi, step in closer.” your senior said, nudging the boy at the back. “i said closer like you’re hugging her- ah.” youngjoon realised he made a mistake. the boy froze again and his figure hovered you, the lights above blocked by his shocked expression.

you were falling back.

at this rate, both of you might cause the other an embarrassment of a lifetime. you braced for impact and it was written on your face. jaehyun saw how you shut your eyes. he was afraid of injuring you and somehow did the unthinkable; not even his friends expected that from him and were worried the big guy might crush you. he flipped you around the moment you both were inches above the ground, landing on him instead. “mfgh. ow.” you heard him groan, followed by few gasps and shocked voices.

hesitantly, you opened an eye and felt his palms around your torso. he too had a sour face from the fall. “that was close.” jaehyun squinted you take a peek of you and let out a sigh, which already brought guilt showering over you. “glad you’re not injured-”

“are you two alright?” hana with concern, asked as others repeated the same question.

you got up to sit on your calves in apology but soon spotted hana and youngjoon grinning like their plan worked. so they did have something to do with this. “are you an idiot??” you sighed with a drumming heart, taking jaehyun aback. “you’re performing in two days and it’s best if i’m injured than you are.”

“hey, you’re dancing too..” jaehyun chuckled though was surprised with your sudden fits and tone of your voice, standing up to lend a hand. “..so it’s best if you’re not injured.”

he waited for you to respond to his offer and as you took it, you felt a painful throb at the left ankle. tsk, must’ve twisted a bit it when we fell. dammit jaehyun. you cleared your throat loudly. it came out more of a growl in an annoyed tone. “look, i don’t think you get it. you have two days to practice and there‘s only one you. there are many dancers who can replace me-”

“no, i don’t think you get it. you’re the only one who knows the choreography. you’re basically irreplaceable.”

perhaps if this was told to you in a different sight, you would be squirmy and walking on flowers now. but this was nothing of it. you had to remain professional and set your personal feelings aside.

“not unless if another dancer perfects the dance in two days..” you trailed off.

“okay okay, stop the talking and continue where you both left off. a fall like that shouldn’t be a reason why you’re quarrelling.” youngjoon clapped his hands, moving you in front of jaehyun to start from the top.

when you said that, jaehyun was unsure why you were suddenly irritated. he held his position for the duet before speaking words that had you all fluttery again. “well, i’m dancing with you and staff said it’s final.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the following day, your ankle swelled overnight and informed that you would teach jaehyun and yeri, whom you’ve chosen to be his dance partner— the only idol available prior to nct 127’s performance. you crossed arms, observing how she got the steps quicker than jaehyun. “i want you to pop your hips a little more and match the timing with jaehyun. look at him intently before he holds your hand and you letting go.”

a pout then was seen on her face, hesitant and shy to do what you instructed. “i know it’s weird but i’d like you to think what you’re doing is art..” you tried to sound encouraging and later saw jaehyun taking a break at the far end of the stage. “just expressed in forms of movements.”

yeri stifled a laugh, feeling a lot better now she saw how you looked at her fellow label-mate. “yeah that’s not how jaehyun sees it-” she hushed immediately for speaking her thoughts. “y/n, how has he not learned his part yet? didn’t you teach him yesterday?”

“trust me i did! jaehyun’s a great artist but he just doesn’t seemed focused like i imagined him to be.” you took a bite from your sandwich, and yeri giggled that you unconsciously ignored the first half of her sentence. “i mean his solo was a 15-second one. i don’t see why he would forget the rest of the 35-seconds.”

she pursed her lips and took sight of taeyong winking at her, hinting your density with these situations. “well i think he actually got the steps now.” she arched her brows, pointing at the direction where jaehyun was at. “i heard he works hard alone- not that i’m offending you! you’re a great teacher and dancer!”

you smiled as you crumpled the plastic wrap and tossed it in the bin. “none taken, i kinda understand why he would be nervous around me.”

her ears perked up and pulled you to the side. “ooh ooh you do? what is it? i’m in for the tea!”

“i pull a resting face while i monitor them. probably why he found it hard to approach me. he thinks i’m the kind who doesn’t want to be disturbed.” you and yeri walked further off the stage to sit at the very front.

she held her chest hearing how awful you might’ve felt from him. “aw that’s bitter tea! y/n i’m sure he doesn’t think that way! it just takes time, might be longer than the other guys but you’ll get there.”

“get to where?”

“to being friends, and not only the professional level.”

at another side of it, taeyong and the rest heard the whole conversation. they shared looks knowing that they had to relay the news to jaehyun, who was staring at you giggling away with yeri. he met eyes with them and had a thin lipped smile, walking towards his friends. “you guys are weird, quit the creepy smiles.”

doyoung smacked the boy’s head for the density his currently possessed. “do you know the impression she has on you?”

“who? yeri?”

now it was taeil’s turn to smack his head. “y/n, you dimwit.” he sighed, looking at your silhouette under dimmed light then onto jaehyun. “she thinks you’re great..”

“but what you do around her seems to have shown you’re not interested in her.” jungwoo completed his sentence.

jaehyun never felt so attacked by both from them and the facts thrown upon him. “what? no! i am interested in her!”

“then tell her that. it isn’t that hard to say you’re interested in being friends.” haechan bent to release the tension in his muscles.

they wanted to encourage him a little more yet were then called to stand-by for another practice, with the interlude as the beginning. the signal from the staff have ordered for the lightings and music to be queued and readied.

mark nudged him in a strength that nearly made him fall. “hey, it’s about the right time you get closer to her,” he said in a low voice, highkey referring to your ruptured ligament on your ankle yet jaehyun seemed to have missed the point. “or else there’ll be no development.”

jaehyun chugged on his bottle in silence. “what do you mean?”

“youngjoon hyung said she’ll be on leave for weeks. i don’t know how long but if you don’t do anything now, you’ll continue to live up to the impression without even talking to her.” he explained and cringed afterwards feeling taeyong and johnny’s presence among them.

“show her that what she choreographed for us is not in vain, okay?” johnny made his hair a mess, before leaving the stage to go to where you were. the stage director said his count down. you cheered on yeri with a thumbs up and the music started its tune.

a/n: can’t seem to add song in between texts, so here’s a link instead ;-; let me know if it doesn’t work :3

it was your choreography up there, that was soon to be shown to the world, recorded to be part of the rundown and later burnt in c.d’s. you felt nervous at the fact if they would really execute what you wanted to show— the form of art you put your sweat upon even if it were just 50 seconds. when jaehyun began taking yeri’s hand after his solo part, leading her then mirroring her movements, your heart squeezed for no reason. they should be able to nail this part until the last beat of the song.

but as you clenched your chest to prevent your hands from shaking, taeyong saw your expression, convincing him enough that your reaction towards this said otherwise.

the boys usually held a small dinner a day prior to the concert, for a good show and performance. yuta decided to invite you to a japanese restaurant nearby so you wouldn’t feel left out or feel a lot distant than you already were with them.

you prepared your essentials before meeting them, the tapes of your ankle band came loose and you reached to adjust it as discomfort was all you felt for a while. jaehyun knelt down to sit across you, licking his dry lips to simmer the nervousness he felt inside. “do you need help?” he asked when you looked up to notice his presence. “or is there anything i can do to help?”

“y-yeah. it needs a proper tightness to it.” you gave a faint nod. he smiled and held your left leg to rest it on his thigh.

silence was slowly killing him, he had to admit that at least. now that you both conversed, what then? would this just be another acquaintance talk like yesterday, where it was only a mere one? nothing else to it? nothing happened?

jaehyun wanted to set the professionalism to the side, heed to his friends’ words and actually become close to you. perhaps put his feelings for you behind him for the meantime. “sorry.” he conceded, which made you confused for a second. “i’m sorry.”

“from the fall yesterday?” you stretched back that your palms were your support as he taped the band around. jaehyun shook his head, making you more confused. “then what are you apologising for?”

“for making you feel like i didn’t want to talk to you since you arrived.”

you stared at him, lips parting when you finally grasped his purpose. “oh.. that! it’s okay. i’m not expecting to be that level of friends immediately.” you chuckled awkwardly because it was a bit of a lie. i mean it took a while to be good friends with the others-”

“i’m sorry that i chose not to talk to you and it might have given you a bad impression of me.” he took your shoe so you could wear and head to the restaurant. “i guess it really is difficult to when i admire you a lot. heck i even asked my groupmates to tone down their knowledge about that because they have plans to embarrass-”

he jolted at the drop of your phone and your sigh, eyes wandering and wavering at it then looking to you. he helped you stand up and when he did too, you sighed heavier, flattened lips and a smile. “my anxiety convinced me that you hated me.” you confessed, finally letting out the worry that has been bothering you for months.

you shyly looked back at him and noticed how he was fidgety as you were. you couldn’t handle the visuals he has— even more now that he was close to you. so ethereal and magnetising.

maybe this was what the somersaults you’ve been feeling all the time. the unexplainable gut feeling that you’d be pulled into something you couldn’t handle?

it was him.

jaehyun panicked at the word. “h-hate? i don’t! not even a bit. i really like you!” he sputtered, then waving his hands to deny his feelings. “i mean like as in like you as person and your dedication to all this.”

“heh..” you both turned to the voice and taeyong smirked what he heard. “just tell her already, jae.” he pointed out, and you were left clueless as they shared the same brain cell. jaehyun’s eyes grew, hoping that his friend wouldn’t expose him, but taeyong answered him with his eyes, as if his voice was almost telepathic.

‘not confessing! you’re not at that intimacy level yet! tell y/n that you wanna hang with her!’

“i-i just wanna get closer to you?” he pondered, scratching his neck from the tornado of feelings whirling inside. “as friends, not as workmates or anything.” he waited for your response, staring in your magnetising orbs that lured him into something deeper.

“we would’ve been if we talked earlier on.” you smiled, hinting that you didn’t mind taking that step with him too. “but yeah, same here, jaehyun.”

jaehyun smiled genuinely at you for the first time, no awkwardness nor forcing himself to. “yes!” he had his fists up with ecstasy that you said his name, only to panic at the time. the dinner was already starting.

taeyong exhaled and swung his arms to let the blood flow normally. “ah, now that’s settled. let’s get to the restaurant too.”

you punched his arm and he flinched at the impact and hissed that it came out more of a question than a reaction you expected. “what you get for lying that you didn’t know anything.” you stuck a tongue out.

“and i’m supposed to pay the price for it?” he rubbed to sooth the pain. “not fair.”

walking to the backstage, you slowly lifted your foot to head down the stairs. “don’t worry, they’ll get their punches from me real soon.” you whistled.

jaehyun took your hand, supporting your weight at the same time. he couldn’t rush you in the state you’re in.

“what about jaehyun? he’s the one who did all this, and had the rest of us included.” taeyong jut his lips to point to the boy, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jackets. “he should get a punch too.”

“i’m not punching someone who wants to be closer to me. it’s not a good.. first impression.” you hid a laugh with flattened lips, jaehyun mirrored you and gave a flirty wink.

with that, he managed to magnetise you, just to make his gap with you,

closer.

#nct 127 #jaehyun oneshot #jung jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun writings #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #nct #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

I Do...I Guess (6)

The Farplane

Ao3 | FF.net

I decided to change the way the Farplane worked, only for story purposes. You know, you gotta do what you can for the Drama™.

Also, I’m going to try to keep the lore the same, but it gets kind of confusing towards the end of the first game, so if I mess up or change something, I’m trying to have it make sense in my head.

Also, I don’t want to completely rehash the whole story the same way, except for the little change of Yuna and Tidus being married. But some of the events are going to be pretty similar and chronological. I mean, they have a path they have to go, and I really liked the story in the game. Why ruin a good thing?

The longer time goes on, the more we’ll diverge. I’m hoping this story will reach into X-2’s timeline, but the ending is still fuzzy. I’m not writing this ahead of time, like a smart person would. You’re getting it as it comes! Whoooo!

—

As they reached the gate to the Farplane, Auron took a seat on the edge of the ramp.

“I can’t go in.” He said simply.

Rikku took up the seat next to him and took a deck of cards out of her inventory. “We Al Bhed aren’t super big on the Farplane. We prefer to leave the past in the past.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why you dig up all the Machina.” Wakka muttered, before being elbowed by Lulu. “Ow!”

“Behave.”

The gate to the Farplane looked like a wall of water, mirroring the side they were on.

Tidus hesitated outside, but Wakka and Lulu walked in without another thought.

“Are you coming?” Yuna asked.

“Uh yeah…”

And it felt like submerging underwater, but there was no wetness, just the sensation of moving from one world into the next.

The Farplane was vast and huge, teeming with life, despite being the land of the dead. Flowers covered the ground, and cascading waterfalls filled the sky.

The sun looked like a hole had been punched in the sky and light shone from behind. A rotting, swirling blackness gnawed at the edges, making the almost pristine world have an ominous air to it.

“Whoa.” Said Tidus.

“It’s so pretty,” said Yuna.

“So how does this work?” Tidus asked the more experienced party members.

“It’s pretty easy,” Wakka walked up to a podium at the edge of the platform they stood on. “All you gotta do is touch this sphere, here. Then, all the people in the Farplane that want to see you will appear. Then you get to pick who you want to talk to, and they’ll come forward, and then you can talk to them.”

“Have you done this before?”

“For sure, ah? Quite a few years ago, Chappu and I were talking about an old Besaid legend, the Melonheads. It was a group of people with swollen heads that lived in the caves down by the beach. Chappu never believed they existed, but me and some of the Aurochs were sure it was true. So when Lulu and I came through on our last pilgrimage, I asked the previous leader of Besaid about it.”

“And what did he say?”

“He didn’t know, so he called on his predecessor, and he called on his, so on and so forth, until we got all the way back to the war.”

“And?”

“And it was a bunch of bologna. It was some dumb joke from my grandfather’s era.”

“That’s really cool you got to solve it though!” Yuna chirped. “And you got to talk to the founder of Besaid! That’s amazing.”

“So who’s going first?” Tidus asked, glancing at the podium.

“I’ll go. I’ll show you how it works,” replied Wakka. He confidently strolled up to the podium, but paused with his hand hovering over the sphere.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just…got nervous, all of a sudden. I haven’t seen Chappu since…” he swallowed instead of finishing his sentence, and then pressed his hand on the surface of the softly glowing sphere.

The air filled with hazy figures, slowly solidifying into ghostly people. Details and faces appearing as they were before they died. About fifty in total, and mostly men.

Luzzu, a crusader that Tidus had met on Besaid, and travelled with the team all the way to Mi’ihen, was among them.

“Wow,” Wakka said with a little, sad chuckle. “There’s more here than I was expecting.” Then he spotted Chappu, and beckoned him forward.

“Hey big brodda! It’s been awhile, ya?” Chappu greeted with a big smile. Though he had the proud Besaid accent and boisterous voice, his sound was airy and wispy.

“Yeah. Yeah it has.” Wakka responded, without much enthusiasm.

“What’s with the cold reception?! Bummed because I’m dead?”

Wakka laughed slightly, unable to help it. “Yeah. Yeah man, that’s it exactly.”

“Well knock it off! The Farplane isn’t too bad, ya? I built a place down by the river, surrounded by flowers. We play Blitz all day, and never have to work. And the best part? No Sin! Sure, we don’t eat or sleep, but we don’t need to. So stop moping!”

“I just…miss you. Is all.”

“Yeah, I miss you too, eh? But time is different here. Not sure how long I’ve been dead.”

“About a year now.”

“Wow, a whole year! Feels like just yesterday, but also like I’ve been here for eons. It’s too hard to explain.” He waved a hand in front of his face, changing the topic. “What are you doing in Guadosalam anyway?”

“I’m a guardian again. This time, for good. Gave up the game. It was time to get serious, you know?”

“Who this time?”

“It’s Yuna, she’s finally ready.” He gestured behind him so that Chappu could see.

Yuna waved.

“Little Yuna is already on her Pilgrimage? Well, good luck! And I’ll save you a good spot!” He laughed.

No one joined.

“Hey Wakka,” Chappu grew serious. “You takin’ good care of my girl?”

“He bullies me,” Lulu answered.

“I do not! If anything, you’re the bully!”

“You need to be bullied. You’re too immature.”

Chappu laughed again. “I guess I got my answer.”

“If anything, I’m taking care of him.” Lulu added. “But he makes sure I’m staying safe.”

“Good, glad to hear it. I’d haunt Wakka if he wasn’t taking care of you.”

Lulu closed her eyes, and downcast her face, hiding her expression.

“I see Kimahri, and who’s this dude?” Chappu gestured to Tidus.

“Your long lost twin, ya? Gotta rub some tomato in his hair, but he could be you. I gave him your sword. I think he likes it.”

“Good! I certainly don’t need it here. Better he use it to keep Yuna safe.”

“You got it, Chappu!” Tidus gave him a thumbs up.

“I wish I could talk longer, but your time is precious. Just promise me one thing, Wakka.”

“What’s that?”

“Let me go.”

Wakka swallowed and shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do that yet, you know? For the longest time, I hoped…” he swallowed again, finding his throat too dry. “In my head, I knew you’d be here. They told me they found your body. But my heart kept hoping that they were wrong. But here you are.”

“So take this as closure. I’m fine. Great actually. I have plenty of regrets,” he glanced at Lulu, “but there’s no one in the Farplane who doesn’t have their regrets. I’ll learn to live with them. Or…die with them, as the case may be. But you still have time, and hanging onto me is going to drag you down.”

“Gee, when did you get so smart?”

“You learn a few things when you arrive here. Things that seemed important when you were alive suddenly aren’t anymore, and you get a look at a bigger picture. But I’m spoiling it for you.” He shot his arm out, giving Wakka a brotherly punch that he’d never feel. “Take care, brodda. Get Yuna to Zanarkand, and maybe coach the Aurochs again if you get back, ah? We got to win once.”

Wakka laughed. “We did win! This guy,” he pointed at Tidus. “He allegedly played for the Zanarkand Abes! He took us to the finals!”

“You for real? He’s from Zanarkand? We played them on this side not too long ago. Great team! They got some moves I’ve never seen before. Kicked our butts, they did!”

Wakka laughed, a real genuine laugh since they had arrived in Guadosalam. It was heartbreaking.

“Well, you better get off the line, before we talk about Blitz for three hours.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, and his shoulders relaxed. “I’ll see you around, ya? Next time, I might be on the other side with you.”

“You better be an old man.”

“No guarantees. You save me a good spot too though, okay?”

“Already did. It’s blocked out and everything.”

“Thanks. Well…bye Chappu.”

“See you, Wakka.”

And he removed his hand from the sphere. For a while, he stood there, staring at the place Chappu had been. Then he quickly wiped his face and turned to the group. “See? Easy as pie! Who’s next?”

Yuna avoided eye contact and twiddled her thumbs.

“Lu? You wanna go?”

“I have no one I want to talk to.” Then she considered a moment. “But, there is someone I want to see. Just to make sure they made it to the Farplane.” She approached the podium, and touched the sphere.

About the same amount of people appeared for Lulu as for Wakka, with lots of the same faces, including Chappu.

After a glance over the crowd, she frowned. “A shame.”

“You don’t see them?”

“No. But, they could just not want to see me. I wouldn’t blame them either.” She removed her hand and stepped back, leaving the podium open for Yuna.

“I guess it’s my turn, then.”

With the determination he saw her garner when she summoned, Yuna approached the sphere, and placed her hand on it. Tidus was quick to take his place beside her, for emotional support.

Many more people appeared. Maybe 200. Maybe more. It was hard to tell.

“Famous even in the Farplane,” Tidus joked.

“Hm. Many of these people knew my father, and probably would like to speak to me because of him. Or perhaps I met them once and made that big of an impact. It’s hard to know. But, honestly, I don’t recognize them all.”

But there, in the middle, stood her parents, arm in arm, reunited in death.

She beckoned them forward.

Immediately, Lord Braska’s face melted in adoration. “Is that my Yuna? My little girl?” His voice, like Chappu, had a wispy quality to it. The sound of someone speaking without vocal chords.

“Hello mother, father.” She greeted with a tearful smile.

“My my child, how you have grown. How old are you now?”

“17.”

“Ten years it’s been then? What are you doing in Guadosalam?”

“I’m on my own Pilgrimage to Zanarkand.”

Instead of beaming with pride, like Tidus expected he would, Braska frowned. “You became a Summoner? That’s…a fate I had hoped to spare you from.”

“You’re so young,” said her mother.

“I know. But, when you defeated Sin, you brought so much joy to Spira. I want to do so too. And it’s not your fault, but I think everyone expects the same of me.”

“I was afraid of that.” Braska lamented.

“I want you to meet my guardians!” Yuna interjected, before the man could blame himself further. She beckoned Kimahri closer. “This is Kimahri Ronso. Sir Auron met him on his way back from your Pilgrimage and asked him to find me. He brought me to Besaid and stayed with me ever since.”

“Glad to know Auron kept his promise to look after you.” Braska smiled.

“In Besaid, I met Lulu and Wakka. They’ve been like family to me. They practically raised me. And Sir Auron, we met up with in Luca. He’s outside, with Rikku!”

“Rikku?” Asked her mother, “your cousin?”

“Yep!”

This little tidbit of information did not escape Wakka. “Your who-what now?”

Yuna hunched her shoulders. “Um…Rikku is my cousin?”

“But…that would mean…you’re Al Bhed?”

Yuna’s mother spoke up. “Half. A summoner married to an Al Bhed is given no favors, even if he’s widowed. So, it’s not well known.”

“Summoner Braska married one…” Wakka shook his head in disbelief. “What a way to learn this information…”

“You’re not going to bail, are you?” Asked Lulu.

“No. Guardian through and through. Just…I need some time to process.” He held his head and muttered something that sounded like, “and I said all those things.”

“And who’s this strapping gentleman standing next to you?” Yuna’s mother asked. “I think you missed a guardian?”

“Oh! Of course. This is Tidus, Sir Jecht’s son…and my husband.”

THAT brought joy from the couple.

“You got married!” Her mother cheered. “That’s wonderful!”

“To the crybaby?” Asked Braska, with a smug smile.

Tidus rolled his eyes. “I’m not a crybaby.”

“There will be some hard times ahead of you, and having someone like a spouse to support you will help. It's a luxury I wish I could have had.”

“Actually…” She clenched her hands to her chest. “There’s something I need your advice on. One Summoner to another.”

“Whatever you need, My Love.”

Just that little nickname brought joy to the part of her heart that had desperately missed her father. “Did you ever know Maester Seymour Guado?”

He thought for a moment. “Lord Jyscal’s son? I don’t think I ever met him. He’s half human, half Guado, right? He’s a Maester now, hmm? Good for him.”

“Yes, he umm…he proposed to me.”

Braska laughed. “And you obviously told him you were married, correct?”

“Well, yes. But Tidus and I have only been married a few days. Well, Maester Seymour believes it would be best if we got our marriage annulled, and Maester Seymour and I wed instead.”

“He said that!?” Yuna’s mother gawked.

Braska, too, looked disturbed at the idea. “Why would he ask such a thing?”

“He said that…well, as a Summoner, it’s my job to bring joy to Spira. And a wedding between a Maester and Summoner would be a joyous occasion.”

“Sure,” said Braska. “Until they find out that you broke off your marriage of love for a marriage for politics.”

“That’s what Auron said!” Tidus interjected.

“And that didn’t convince you?”

Yuna blushed, embarrassed. “I know…I just…he’s a Maester, and he only has Spira and Summoner’s best interests at heart. He wouldn’t have asked if there wasn’t some good that would come out of it.” As she said it, she wondered if she really believed that. It was what she was trying to convince herself was really happening, instead of the gut feeling that hit everytime Seymour appeared. “Would he?”

Braska shook his head. “My sweet daughter, by bringing the Calm, I had hoped that I had paved a way for you to do what you want. I’m so proud that you’ve become a summoner. But Spira’s happiness doesn’t need to rest solely on your shoulders. There’s no reason you and Tidus couldn’t have a more formal and public ceremony to bring joy.”

Yuna looked over to Tidus, not having considered that at all.

“Yuna. As hypocritical as this may sound, promise me, you won’t let anyone tell you want to do in your marriage. You and Tidus are a team now. A team not even a Maester can break up. And that’s coming from High Summoner Braska.”

Yuna actually wept a few tears in relief. “Thank you, father. I needed to hear that. I was so concerned about Yevon and my duties to the Temples, that I forgot my duties as a wife.” She turned to Tidus. “I’m going to tell Seymour no.”

Tidus deflated like a balloon, relaxed and relieved. “Thank Yevon, right?”

“And you, Sir Tidus,” Braska said sternly.

Tidus straightened up.

“As her guardian, don’t be afraid to tell people to back off. It’s your duty. Your father was particularly talented in it. Although, best not use the same language and hand gestures he used.”

“I understand.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’d get it. Yevon isn’t a thing in Zanarkand. Knowing what’s appropriate and would reflect poorly on Yuna…that’s something I’m trying to figure out.”

“Whatever you do, once Yuna defeats Sin, it all gets overlooked, or remembered fondly. So just do what you have to.”

“Yes sir!”

“Glad to hear it. Now, Yuna…there’s something you should know about Zanarkand.”

“What is it, father?”

Braska hesitated. “Did Auron tell you anything?”

“Um…not anything outside of my expectations.”

“Hmm. And you’re set on this Summoner path?”

“That's all I want.”

He seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say, and instead said, “well, I suppose you’ll find out when the time comes. In the end, it won’t matter.”

“In the end?” Asked Tidus.

Braska gave him a little look. “At the end of the Pilgrimage. It won’t matter. All she needs to do is defeat Sin.”

“Oh, sure. Right.”

Braska reached a hand out, touching the side of Yuna’s face, sending tingles over her cheek. “One last thing, my wonderful daughter. There’s no shame in abandoning the Pilgrimage. I almost turned back, and most Summoners do as well. I love you, and I will continue to do so no matter what you choose.”

“Thank you, father. It’s a blessing to know I have your support no matter what happens.”

“And Tidus’ support,” he reminded. “And he’s tangible.”

Tidus rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing affectionately.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Yuna gave a curt nod.

“Good luck, My dearest daughter.”

“We’ll be waiting,” her mother added.

And Yuna removed her hand from the podium. She sighed, closing her eyes.

“Feel a little better?” Tidus asked.

“Yes. I had hoped talking to my father would give me clarity. And it did.”

“Uh…Yuna?” Wakka spoke up.

They were both prepared for Wakka to start interrogating her about her heritage, since that had to be on the forefront of his mind. Instead, he was pointing at the place Braska had been.

Yuna looked up, and saw a Guado man. “Lord Jyscal?”

Unlike Chappu and Braska, Jyscal looked…unwell. Dead and ghostly, of course, but he looked more gray, more tormented. He crooked a finger towards her, and beckoned her closer.

Yuna leaned in, nervous that a figment could appear without anyone touching the podium.

He whispered something in her ear. Something that puzzled her.

But before anyone could ask questions, he was gone.

“What did he say?” Asked Tidus.

“I…I’m not sure. I couldn’t understand him.” She lied. More than anything, she wanted to deflect from the news she had received. “Tidus, would you like to try?” She gestured to the sphere.

He considered it. “It couldn’t hurt right? Maybe I’ll tell my mom that I got hitched. She won’t believe me.” He laughed as rested his hand on the sphere.

Hundreds. Thousands of people appeared.

A city’s worth.

“Whoa…” said Wakka.

“Ah. Yeah…that’s what happens when you and your dad are famous, I guess. All my fans want to see me.” He frowned as he looked around, tears gathering in his eyes.

Children, young people in the prime of their lives, and his teammates. Friends he had eaten with just a month ago. They were all here, waiting for him.

“I…I changed my mind.” He removed his hand. “I don’t want to talk to anyone.” The ghosts disappeared, like a bad dream.

Wakka was staring at him, jaw dropped.

“What?”

“You’re for real? You’re really from Zanarkand?”

Tidus chuckled. “Oh so now you believe me?”

“Kind of hard to ignore the evidence! I don’t even know that many people!”

“I’m waiting for an apology.”

Wakka sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry for doubting you and calling you delusional.”

“Ahem.”

“I’m sorry, Sir Tidus.”

He smiled. “Hey, water under the bridge! Now, let’s go tell Seymour the good news and get the heck out of Guadosalam!”

Lulu spoke up. “Unfortunately, there’s a really bad storm in the Thunder Plains. We’ll have to stay the night here.”

“When is it not storming in the Thunder Plains?”

“Fine. Get struck. See if I care.”

Yuna led the party out of the Farplane, back to where Rikku and Auron were waiting.

“So?” Asked Rikku. “How did it go?”

“I’ve decided to tell Seymour no. Tidus and I are staying married.”

“Good!” She cheered, then tacked on, “Seymour’s kind of an asshole anyway.”

“He’s still a Maester. So you shouldn’t call him that.” Reprimanded Lulu. “At least, not in front of others.”

Wakka sheepishly approached Rikku and gave her a light rap on the shoulder with his knuckles. “Hey kiddo, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. We might disagree about things, but there was no reason for me to yell at you, ya?”

“Aww, it’s okay Wakka. It’s hard to fight against your whole worldview, right?”

Auron smirked at the exchange. “Let me guess. You found out about Yuna's heritage?”

Wakka might as well be as transparent as those on the Farplane. “Yeah well. Even if Yuna wasn’t half Al Bhed…it was still crappy to yell at a kid.”

Rikku grinned. “I’ll take it!”

The group then returned to Seymour’s mansion. Only to find the man in question missing.

“Lord Seymour has moved on to his temple in Macalania, as he stated you needed time to consider his offer,” said Tromell.

“He didn’t wait for the storm to pass?” Asked Lulu.

“Lord Seymour is not bothered by such things. But he assumed the storm and your late arrival would keep you here, and he has had two rooms prepared for you.”

Tidus and Yuna shared a look. Only two rooms?

“Whoo! Slumber party!” Rikku chirped.

Auron patted Tidus’ back and spoke softly. “I can see the anxiety on your face, plain as day. Lulu and Rikku will be with her. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Getting separation anxiety two days into marriage, eh?” Wakka chided. “It’s kinda cute.”

“Lay off. I’m just…pissed with Seymour, is all.” He muttered, only partly lying.

“If you are all set, I will show you to your rooms. If you will follow me.”

Tidus and Yuna fell into step with one another, as was a common occurrence as of late.

“Yuna?”

“I know,” she said with a sad little smile. “We should talk about it. But…I’m kind of tired. Can it wait until we have the privacy of our own room?”

That was such a gracious request, he couldn’t help but honor it. “Of course. Later. But, we’re good, right?”

“Only if you’re okay. I wouldn’t blame you if you were still mad at me.”

“It’s kind of hard to stay mad at you. It…kind of hurt, but I understand.”

She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it. “I never want to hurt you again.” This came out with so much sorrow in her voice.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

#Final Fantasy X #ffx #yuna #tidus x yuna #tidus #fanfiction #I Do...I guess?

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lacquerware · 3 years

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2020 Recap - My Year in Gaming

2020. What a year for video games. I had big plans for last year, but in the end I did very little besides play video games, and I don’t think I’m alone there since we were all stuck at home looking for a way out of reality. I wanted to do a year-end recap as I’ve done sporadically in past years, but this one will be different than the typical “Games of the Year” format because despite all the games I played in 2020, almost none of them came out in 2020, and some of the things that defined my year in gaming weren't even games.

Resident Evil 3 Remake (PS4)

RE3 was one of the only games I played in 2020 that didn’t coincide with the deadly pandemic's spread across the US. RE3 is, of course, a game about the spread of a deadly virus in Anytown, USA. It was an appetizer, I guess.

When the Resident Evil 2 remake dropped in 2019, there were some things I loved about it, and a few things that felt like steps back from the original. I feel much the same about RE3. I had also theorized that a Resident Evil 3 remake would be better off as RE2 DLC than as a separate full-length game, and considering how short RE3 turned out, with some of the best sections of hte original cut entirely (namely, the clock tower), I stand by my theory.

Oh well, at least Jill gets this rad gun, which for the time being is the closest thing to a new Lost Planet we can hope for anytime soon.

Sekiro (PS4)

Sekiro is the first video game I ever Platinumed. This is partly because conquering the base game was such a spartan exercise that going the extra mile to get the Platinum didn’t seem so bad, but it’s also surely a result of the pandemic. I needed a project and a big win. Who didn't?

I wrote at length about why I like Sekiro more than every other modern FromSoft game, and also about the game’s cherry-on-top moment that reminded me of blowing up Hitler’s face in Bionic Commando. Please read them!

Death Stranding (PS4)

Release date notwithstanding, this was obviously the Game of 2020. I wrote about it here, here, and here. This game bears the distinction of being the second one I ever Platinumed. It took 150 hours. Only then did I learn I had a hoverboard.

Streets of Rage 4 (PS4)

This is the only 2020 game I played for more than a few hours. In fact, I cleared the entire game at least five times. I still don’t think it captures the gritty aesthetic of the prior Streets of Rages (nor even tries to), but this is probably the best-feeling bup I've played. Huge bonus points for finally bringing back Adam, but in the end I found it hard not to pick Blaze every time.

Blaster Master Zero 2 (Switch)

What impressed me about this sequel from Inti Creates was that it wasn’t just more of the same, even though that would've been fine. BMZ2 builds on its already excellent predecessor with a catchy new format where players can freely cruise the cosmos and stages take the varied form of planets—some big and sprawling, others short and sweet. Hopping at will from planet to planet without ever knowing what experiences and treasure each one held felt like system jumping in No Man’s Sky and island hopping in The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass, both of which felt like opening presents.

Dragon Force (Saturn)

Charming, satisfying, and addictive as a bag of chips. Unlike a bag of chips, when it’s over, you can do it all again. And again. And it’ll be different each time! This might be the first strategy game I've truly loved. Better late than never.

The PC Engine Mini

The PC Engine/TurboGrafx-16 Mini seems a particularly justifiable mini-console for people outside Japan because so many missed these consoles entirely, the games are hard to obtain, and the lineup includes titles spanning the entire convoluted Turbo/PC Engine ecosystem—the TurboGrafx-CD/CD-ROM², Super CD-ROM², Arcade CD-ROM² and SuperGrafx, in addition to plain, old standard HuCard games. I myself didn’t know the first thing about these systems before. It’s like reliving the nineties again for the first time.

Most of the titles included are simple action games that don't require a command of Japanese, but make no mistake: being able to understand Snatcher and TokiMemo does make me feel like an elite special person worth more than many of you.

(Side note: From a gender representation perspective, the difference between Snatcher and Death Stranding is stark. Virtually every interaction with every woman or girl in Snatcher is decorated with ways to sexually harass her. Guess someone finally had a conversation with our favorite auteur.)

A Gaming PC

I’d threatened to transition to PC gaming for years after beholding the framerate difference between the console and PC versions of DmC in 2012, and last July I finally took the leap, buying an ASUS “Republic of Gamers” (ugh) laptop with an NVIDIA GeForce RTX 2070 Max-Q GPU. It seems like consoles are getting more PC-like all the time, especially with all these half-step iterations that splinter performance and sometimes even the feature set (à la the New 3DS and Switch Lite), so with the impending new generation seemed like a fine time to change course.

In the half-year since, I’ve barely played a single PC game more recent than 2013, but just replaying PS3-era games at high settings has been like rediscovering them for the first time.

I also finally experienced keyboard-and-mouse shooting and understand now why PC gamers think they're better than everyone else. Max Payne is a completely different game with a mouse. Are all shooters like this??

The USPS

Early in the year, I rediscovered my childhood game shop, Starland, which is now an online hub known as eStarland.com with a brick-and-mortar showroom. To my delight, it has become one of the best and most modestly priced sources for import Saturn games in the country, and I scored Shining Force III’s second and third episodes, long missing from my collection, for a mere ten bucks each!

In June, I treated myself to a trio of Saturn imports from eStarland: the tactics-meets-dating-sim mashup Sakura Taisen 2, the nicely presented RTS space opera Quo Vadis 2, and beloved gothic dungeon crawler Baroque. Miraculously, this haul amounted to just around thirty dollars total. Less miraculously, they never arrived. This was the second time I’d had something lost in the mail in my entire life, and also the second time that month. Something was wrong with the USPS, and it wasn’t just COVID pains. We would soon learn Trump had been actively working to sabotage one of the nation’s oldest and most reliable institutions in a plot to compromise the upcoming presidential election.

Frankly it’s a miracle there’s still such a thing as “delivery” at all, and a few missing video games is the last of my worries considering what caused it, but nevertheless this was an experience in my gaming life that could not have happened any other year. I won’t forget it.

*By the way, USPS reimbursed me for the insured value of the missing order, which was fifty bucks. So I actually profited a little off the experience.

Mega Everdrive Pro

I love collecting for the Genesis and Mega Drive, but I will not pay hundreds of dollars for a video game that retailed for about sixty. The publishers never asked for that, and the developers won’t see a (ragna)cent of the money. I'm also far less inclined to start collecting for Sega CD, since the hardware is notoriously breakable, the cases are huge and also breakable, and the library just isn't that good.

Still, I'd been increasingly curious about the add-on as an interesting piece of Sega history, so when I learned Ukranian mad scientist KRIKzz had released a new Mega Everdrive that doubled as a Sega CD FPGA, I finally took the plunge into the world of flash carts. This has proven a great way to play some of the Mega Drive’s big-ticket rarities I will never buy—namely shmups like Advanced Busterhawk Gley Lancer and Eliminate Down—as well as try out prospective additions to the collection. I never would have discovered the phenomenal marvel of engineering and synth composition that is Star Cruiser without this thing, but now that I have, it’s high on the shopping list.

The Mega Everdrive Pro is functionally nearly identical to TerraOnion’s “Mega SD” cartridge, but slightly less expensive, comes in a “normal” cartridge shell instead of the larger Virtua Racing-style one, and supports a single hardworking dude in Ukraine rather than a company with reportedly iffy customer service.

Twitch

Getting a PC also resolved issues that had long prevented me from achieving a real streaming setup, and much of my gaming life in 2020 was about ramping up my streaming efforts. I even made Affiliate in about a month. Streaming has been a great creative outlet and distraction, as well as a way to connect with other people during the COVID depression and structure my gaming time. Find me every Monday through Thursday 8-11pm Eastern at twitch.tv/lacquerware.

Metroid: Other M (Dolphin)

PC ownership also gave me access to the versatile Dolphin emulator, liberating a handful of great Wii exclusives from their disposable battery-powered prison.

One of the Wii games I fired up on Dolphin was Metroid: Other M, a game I’d always wanted to try but had been dissuaded by years of bad publicity and the fact that I never had any goddamn batteries. I know I should temper what I’m about to say by acknowledging that I was playing at 1080p/60fps on a PS4 controller so my experience was automatically a vast improvement over that of all Wii players, but I’m increasingly confident Metroid: Other M was the most fun I’ve ever had playing a Metroid game. I haven’t decided yet if I’m willing to die on this hill, but I will just say that if you like the Metroidvania genre in general and aren’t particularly attached to the Metroid series’ story or its habit of making you wander aimlessly for hours, there’s a very high chance you will enjoy Other M—especially if you play it on Dolphin.

Don't Starve Together (PC)

Don't Starve is the only game my friend Jason plays, so last year I tried to get into it with him. I respect this game's singular devotion to the concept of survival, but make no mistake: every session of Don't Starve ends with you starving to death. Or freezing. Or getting stomped by a giant deity of the forest. The entire game is staving off death until it inevitably comes. Even when death comes, you can revive infinitely (in whatever mode we were playing), which means even death is not an end goal. There is no end goal. You don't even have the leeway to "play" and create your own meaning as you do in similarly zen games like Dead Rising.

Don't Starve is a game for people for whom hard work is the ultimate reward in and of itself. Don't Starve told me something about Jason.

G-Darius (PS1)

In the early fall, Sony announced they were dropping PS3, PSP, and Vita support from the browser and mobile versions of their PSN Store, and since the PS3 version of the store app runs like a solar-powered parking meter in Seattle, I decided this was my last chance to stock up on Japanese PSN gems.

Among my final haul, the PS1 port of G-Darius proved an instant favorite. Take down the usual cast of mechanized fish in a vibrant, chunky, low-poly style that perfectly inhabits the constraints of the original PlayStation hardware. I believe this is the first Darius game that lets you get into giant beam duels with the bosses, which is quite definitely one of the coolest things a video game has ever let you do. The PS1 port is also surprisingly feature-rich, including some easier difficulty levels that present an actually surmountable challenge for non-savants.

This one’s coming to the upcoming Darius Cozmic Revelation collection on Switch alongside DARIUSBURST, a good-ass romp in its own right.

Red Entertainment

In my effort to shine a tiny spotlight on some of the unsung Interesting Games of gaming, I found myself drawn again and again to the work of Red Entertainment. First there were cavechild headbutt simulator Bonk’s Adventure and twin shmups Gates of Thunder and Lords of Thunder on the PC Engine Mini. Then I streamed full playthroughs of the PS2’s best samurai-era, off-brand 3D Castlevania, Blood Will Tell and the Trigun-adjacent stand-‘n-gun, Gungrave: Overdose. Then I was dazzled by Bonk’s Adventure’s futuristic spin-off cute-‘em-up, Air Zonk, which was also sneakily tucked away on my PC Engine Mini in the “TurboGrafx-16” section. It turned out all these games were made by the same miracle developer responsible for Bujingai, the stylish PS2 wushu game starring Gackt and a household name here at the Lacquerware estate. How prolific can one team be???

Month of Cyberpunk

In November, I started toying with the idea of themed months on my Twitch channel with “Cyberpunk month.” It was supposed to be a build-up to Cyberpunk 2077’s highly anticipated November release, but holy shit that didn’t happen, did it? Still, I always find myself gravitating toward this genre in November, I guess because I associate November with gloom (even though this year it was sunny almost every day). A month is a long time to adhere to a single theme, but cyberpunk is such a well-served niche in gaming that I could easily start an all-cyberpunk Twitch channel. The fact that we’re so spoiled with choice makes Cyberpunk 2077’s terrible launch all the more embarrassing. Here are just some of the games I played (and streamed!) in November:

Ghostrunner Shadowrun (Genesis) RUINER Remember Me Transistor Rise of the Dragon (Sega CD) Shadowrun (Mega CD) Cyber Doll (Saturn) Binary Domain Shadowrun Returns Blade Runner (PC) Deus Ex: Human Revolution Deus Ex: Mankind Divided Observer

Shadowrun on the Genesis gets my top pick, but the two most recent Deus Ex games are great alternatives for those looking for something in the vein of 2077 that isn’t infested with termites.

Lost Planet 2

Every year. I played through it twice in 2020.

Dead Rising 4

I slept on this one too long. While it's a far cry from the original game, it's easily the most fun I've had with a Christmas game since Christmas NiGHTS. This is the game a lot of people thought they were getting when they bought the original Dead Rising with their new Xbox 360--goofy, indulgent, and pressure-free.

Devil May Cry 5: Vergil (PS4)

Vergil dropped for last-gen consoles in December and breathed a whole lot of life into a game that was already at the head of its class.

Nioh 2

I’ve only played a few hours of Nioh 2 because I promised my friend I’d co-op it with him and wouldn’t play ahead. But he’s a grad student with two small children. Nevertheless, Nioh 2 is my Game of 2020.

And that's it! Guess I'll spend 2021 playing games that came out last year, and maybe eventually getting vaccinated? Please?

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

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So Close - S.S. XXXII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 32

Word-count: 4.6k+

A/N: hands up who thought we’d survive getting to senior (technically junior) year?

The good news: You survived months of professional assassins trying to murder everyone you loved and months of being held prisoner by an evil fox spirit, and you passed all your finals. You were a junior now. The bad news: It was a full moon and you were chained to a tree to keep from murdering your aforementioned loved ones. And the blood on Liam’s hands didn’t make it any easier to stay in control.

You’d been through this so many times with Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Malia, Scott, and Liam, but you never understood how much the moon changed them. You knew about it, on paper, but actually experiencing it was a completely different story.

As cheesy and disgusting as it sounded, focusing on Stiles was the only thing that kept you in control. You’d tried other, less cliche, methods with Scott to prepare but none of them stuck - at least not the way listening to Stiles’ heartbeat stuck.

He was nervous tonight, but not because of you or Liam. He was nervous because tonight was the first phase of his grand plan for the pack to stay together after senior year. If you were going to be stuck in Beacon Hills for another year, you weren’t sure how you fit into that grand plan.

Lightning struck overhead and Stiles’ heart leaped for a second. “Do you think it’s been long enough?” he asked Scott.

“Yes!” Liam yelled from the tree next to you.

“Hey,” Stiles said as they turned to look at the two of you. “We’re trying to have an adult conversation over here. Not you, babe. You’re-”

“Alright, that’s disgusting and you’re only two years older than me,” Liam said. “And I’m fine. Just let me go.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asked as he hopped off the Jeep’s hood. He made his way over with the key for all the locks and chains as the sky rumbled overhead.

Liam complained some more about how of course he was sure and you just tried to not look like you were dying as they came over.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Scott started, doing his best to keep the peace.

“It’s that I don’t trust you,” Stiles said - peace be damned - before looking over to you. “Again, babe, not you-”

“It was one slip up!” Liam whined.

“Slip up?” Stiles repeated. “A dozen calls to the Sheriff's Department about a ‘monstrous dog-boy’ running around the streets of Beacon Hills naked. That slip up?”

You frowned as Stiles helped you out of all the chains. His hands were warm and you leaned on him more than you should have when he held you in his arms. Focusing on staying in control and blocking out the impending storm was a lot more tiring than you expected. “Hey, biscuit, why were you naked?”

“It was really hot out that night, okay?” Liam said defensively. “Let me go. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re in complete and total control?” Scott asked.

You wanted to say something about the blood but something in Liam’s face changed your mind. He’d been so sweet with helping you these past few nights; it kind of felt like you owed him one.

“Yeah,” Liam lied. “Complete and total.”

“Great, then let’s get on the road,” Stiles said, squeezing your arm for a second before letting go to scoop up all the chains.

You walked ahead with Scott so you could get settled in the backseat of the Jeep. You sighed and leaned your head against the window as you tried to breathe. Scott was leaning in through the window and looking at you when you opened your eyes again.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I think so,” you said. “Still a little new at this.”

“You’re doing great,” Scott said with a smile. He tapped against the side of the Jeep before moving out of the way so Liam could pile in.

Liam and Stiles had been arguing from the moment they got in the car to the moment Stiles pulled over to check what was wrong with the Jeep, and the ceasefire was only because you and Liam had to stay in the car. Liam looked at you for a second before offering you one of his earbuds. You shook your head and he shrugged before popping one in his ear.

You yanked it out as lightning struck the ground about fifty feet away. The sound made your skull want to explode. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Liam asked.

The lightning struck again and the two of you jumped in your seats. Both of you scrambled to hang out the Jeep’s windows, despite the strike still ricocheting through your head.

“Guys!”

“Yeah, give us a second, please,” Stiles said, ripping another piece of duct tape for the engine.

“Just stay in the car, okay?” Scott asked.

“We’re still in the car but-” you were cut off by another lightning strike, this time maybe ten feet away from where Scott and Stiles were fiddling with the engine.

Stiles’ heartbeat raced. “That was close,” he said, sounding calmer than he felt. “Very close.”

Scott slammed the Jeep’s hood shut a second before it kicked back to life. You’d never seen the two of them jump like that because of an inanimate object. Well, excluding that time in sixth grade but you tried not to dwell on it.

“Okay, will you please get in the car now?” you asked, voice strained. You didn’t like the sound of Stiles’ heart beating like that and you definitely didn’t like how close that lightning was.

All the excitement made you lose control for a second and you dug your nails into your palms to keep your cool. Pain made you human. Pain made you- Stiles slipped his hand through the gap between the door and his seat. Maybe pain wasn’t the only thing that made you human.

You held his hand the rest of the way to Malia’s. Usually, you were the one that got smushed into the middle seat, but tonight you made Liam do it. No one seemed to mind until he brought up Malia’s super secret summer school adventure.

“You told him?” Malia asked.

“Oh, no. All they said was that you had to go to summer school ‘cause the principal said your test scores weren’t good enough and you might have to repeat junior year,” Liam said with a smile.

“We should’ve left him chained to the tree,” Stiles mumbled under the wrath of Malia’s glare.

Malia tightened her jaw and you reached your hand over Liam to find her. “Hey,” you said gently. “I went to summer school too, remember?”

Malia didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive to the hospital, and you didn’t think she’d say anything else while the two of you waited in the hospital for Scott and Stiles to get back.

“I still don’t know why you and I are here,” she said eventually, arms crossed over her chest.

“Because I’m not a senior and you’re undetermined?” you asked, turning around to look at her. You closed your eyes for a second to block out the hospital lights.

Malia didn’t notice. “I just think … shouldn’t we wait until we know for sure?”

“Probably,” you said with a sigh. “But this is really important to Stiles, so even if I’m not technically allowed at Senior Scribe, I’m still gonna- Oh, here they come. That’s still so weird.”

“You get used to it,” Malia shrugged.

“-Like what?” Scott asked when they were close enough.

“Like, uh, ‘Don’t worry, we’re not exclusive. Go have fun with other guys,’” Stiles said.

“What? No, no way,” Scott said.

Stiles turned to you and Malia. “Uh, ladies, if you were going away and the person you’re dating said ‘Don’t worry, go have fun,’ what would you think they were talking about?”

“You mean fun like sex with other people?” Malia asked.

You popped your head around her to look at Scott and Stiles. “Or fun like bowling?”

“Okay, yeah, now I’m worried,” Scott mumbled as he pulled his phone out to check something. Some paramedics rolled a patient passed you and he looked up to your mom. “Hey, Mom, where’s all this coming from?”

“A jackknifed tractor-trailer on 115 caused a major pile up,” Mel said over her shoulder.

“Okay, okay, there’s only one way back into Beacon Hills from the airport,” Stiles said, taking a breath. “Kira’s never gonna make it.”

“I can get her,” Scott said, already walking out the door. “You guys head to the school. Lydia’s probably already there. We’ll meet you by midnight-”

You hated the sound of that plan. “Scott, is that really such a good idea with the-”

“By midnight,” Scott said. “Promise.”

---

Siles hadn’t wanted you to stay at the hospital with Liam, but he gave in when he realized that you’d have to wait in the Jeep in the storm and remembered how much you hated storms. It was a good thing too because Liam came running up to you in the waiting room maybe half an hour after everyone left babbling about Scott and something that attacked Parrish.

After getting some clarification, the two of you ran to the school. The blood pumping through your body and the power in your muscles made you feel alive again. You hadn’t felt like this in such a long time that you almost didn’t want to stop.

Then you remembered that some guy with power-stealing talons was after your brother.

It took a second to process the scene in front of you: Scott had been thrown against the wall and Kira was crumbled a few feet away from the biggest, angriest werewolf you’d ever seen.

Your second was up and you ran at him from behind, legs wrapping around his waist and using the crook of your elbow to cut off his air supply as you applied pressure to the back of his head with your other hand. He struggled against you but your grip was too tight. He slammed you against the wall and you could have sworn your ribs started cracking the second time he did. When you started losing your grip, you panicked and gripped a fistful of his hair to pull his neck to the side. You sank your teeth into his neck.

It was revolting.

Metallic.

He used your surprise to slam you into the wall again, this time coming loose from your grip completely. He picked you up off the floor by your neck, sliding you up the wall as you sputtered his blood back onto his hand.

That’s when it happened. He dropped out of the sky and made a bee-line for where you were fighting for your life. The taloned werewolf dropped you to deal with the new threat.

You spat out any remaining blood on the concrete and tried to breathe again as you watched them fight. The new guy clearly knew what he was doing but that didn’t stop the big guy from knocking him down and going for Scott again.

He sank his claws into your brother’s stomach just as Liam and the others got there. You struggled to your feet but Scott had it handled; he rose up and broke the werewolf’s arm before pulling the leftover claws out of his stomach.

“I don’t know who you are or what you thought you were going to do, but I’ll give you a choice,” Scott told him. “You can stay and I’ll break something else. Or you can run.”

The werewolf looked between Scott and the rest of you.

“I’d run,” Stiles said.

The taloned werewolf hobbled out into the rain and disappeared into the dark as you ran over to Scott. He pushed away your attempts to check on him, instead using his sleeve to wipe your chin. He didn’t seem happy with the result but the others were closing the distance and he didn’t have the time to fuss anymore.

Your friends made a semi-circle around Scott and appraised the new guy. He wasn’t one of you, but he helped.

The new guy laughed as he came over, amused by everyone’s clear distrust of him. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked. “I guess I look a little different since the fourth grade.”

“Theo?” Scott asked.

Your eyes shot over to Stiles’. Theo Raeken? your look asked.��

No way in hell, his look answered.

“You know him?” Malia asked.

“They used to,” Theo said. “Trust me, I never thought I’d see you guys again. Couple of months ago, I heard of an Alpha in Beacon Hills, and when I found out his name was Scott McCall … I just couldn’t believe it. Not just an Alpha, but a True Alpha.”

“What do you want?” Scott asked.

“I came back to Beacon Hills - back home with my family - because I want to be part of your pack,” Theo said.

“Sorry,” you said. Theo’s eyes drifted to you and you couldn’t tell if he was impressed by how much you’d changed or by the bloodstains on your chin. “We’re at capacity. Try again next year.”

Scott turned to you with a sigh. “Y/N-”

“No, Scott, it’s okay,” Theo said. He was dangerously calm. “I’m here to stay, so you guys take your time. Think about it. You know where to find me.”

---

“And?” you asked as Stiles piled back into the Jeep. He sighed as he slammed the door shut behind him. “Did your dad buy your pretty please?”

“No, but he did buy my threat to rope Parrish in, which worked just as well,” Stiles said, pulling his seatbelt out and buckling it in. “Theo’s got a speeding ticket.”

“That’s it?” you asked.

“What do you mean that’s it?” Stiles asked. “One single speeding ticket from eight years ago, signed by his dad. That’s suspicious. Who speeds?”

“Everyone speeds. You speed,” you said. You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on your leg. “But I still don’t trust him.”

“You don’t?” Stiles asked. “Didn’t you used to have a crush on him?”

“Ew, no!” you scoffed. “I hated that little creep.”

“But you were always so mean to him,” Stiles said. “I thought that meant you had a crush on someone in the fourth grade.”

“Well, I was in the third grade and back then being mean to people just meant you didn’t like them,” you said. You interlaced your fingers with Stiles’ over the gearshift. “Besides, you’re the only one I’ve ever had a crush on.”

“Aww, you had a crush on me?” Stiles asked. “That’s kind of lame, babe.”

“We’re literally dating.”

“Still.”

Stiles always drove you to school on the first day, and you thought that would make you feel less nervous but your nerves sky-rocketed the second you got into the school. Everything was too loud, too bright, and too overwhelming. So when Stiles found you between fourth and fifth period saying he and Scott were going to interrogate Theo, you jumped at the chance.

Theo didn’t seem to mind your presence in the locker room so much, but Scott didn’t seem to like you skipping classes on the first day of school. It was difficult to care about Scott’s disapproval when you knew you’d have torn the throat out of the next kid who asked to borrow a pencil.

Theo’s story about skateboarding and getting injured was convincing enough. The details made it seem real and the parts he skipped kept it concise; either you and Stiles were paranoid or he was a really good liar.

“Right. So why aren’t you part of his pack then?” Stiles asked. You and him were leaning against the lockers a few feet away from where Scott and Theo were talking, but you were pretty sure they could feel his distrust from all the way over there. “Why didn’t he come back for you?”

“Because, by the time of my first full moon, he was dead,” Theo answered.

“And you know this how?” you asked.

“I met another one of his pack a couple weeks later,” Theo said, nodding his head at you. “He told me the Alpha that bit me was killed by two of his own Betas. They were twins.”

Scott looked over at you and Stiles. The twins had to be Ethan and Aiden, but they had to kill their whole pack to get in with Deucalion. Did they let someone live like Kali did?

“Scott, listen to my pulse,” Theo said. “I’m telling the truth.”

“Right, or you just know how to steady your heart rate while lying your ass off,” Stiles said as he pushed himself off the lockers.

“Why would I lie?” Theo asked.

“Because maybe you’re not who you say you are,” Stiles said.

“Okay, uh-” Theo took a breath and looked over at Scott. “In the fourth grade, you had an inhaler. I had one too. I remember this day where I ended up in the nurse’s office with an asthma attack. A bad one. I was waiting to be taken to the ER, you were waiting for the principal. You told me what would happen when you go to the ER for asthma. How they give you oxygen, an IV of prednisone. You made it sound easy. Like everything would be okay.”

Stiles rolled his eyes next to you but you put a hand on his shoulder. You were trying to focus on Theo’s heartbeat and that was difficult with all the sarcasm next to you.

“I’ve been by myself this whole time. Everybody knows that lone wolves- they don’t make it on their own,” Theo continued. “I swear I’m that same kid from fourth grade. I was hoping you are too.”

The bell rang out before Scott got the chance to answer. Theo mumbled something about making a good impression as he left and you and Stiles drifted closer to Scott. He seemed convinced but you knew Scott wouldn’t do anything without Stiles’ blessing.

“No,” Stiles said. “Don’t give me that look.”

“We have to give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes,” Scott said.

“Not this time!” Stiles argued. “I’m right. There’s something off about him. I can feel it.”

“You can’t seriously trust him after all this time, can you?” you asked.

“You trusted Isaac after not seeing him for years,” Scott said. “You trusted him more than me, remember?”

“That was different. That was Isaac,” you said. The second bell rang out and you sighed. “We’ll talk later, okay?” You squeezed Scott’s arm and kissed Stiles’ cheek. “I’ll meet you guys in the library after school.”

As you left, you could still hear the two of them bickering over the benefit of the doubt. Scott had a point, but you didn’t like Theo when he was ten years old and you sure as hell didn’t like him now.

You put your bad feelings on hold as you got through the rest of your day, and you couldn’t mention them during your study session at the library. Malia got seriously annoyed when people interrupted her train of thought, and you weren’t going to be the unlucky victim of one of her glares. Thankfully, Stiles took your place.

He burst through the library and slapped two pieces of paper down on the table in front of you. He leaned on the back of your chair as he waited for one of you to say something.

“So you found something?” Scott asked.

“Another signature,” Stiles answered. “This is Theo’s dad’s signature on a speeding ticket from eight years ago.” He tapped the speeding ticket to prove his point before moving onto the next piece of paper. “And this is his dad’s signature on a transfer form to Beacon Hills High School from just a few days ago.”

“How did you get his transfer form?” Kira asked.

“You didn’t break into the Administration Office, did you?” Scott asked.

“No, I did not break into the Administration Office,” Stiles scoffed. You tilted your head up to look at him. “What? Okay, I might have broken into the Administration Office. Can we just focus on the signatures, please?” He tapped the papers again. “They’re different.”

“They’re sort of different,” Malia said.

“They’re completely different!” Stiles said. “Come on. Look: the garlands don’t match, the undulations of the sinuous stroke are totally off. And look- look at this. Perfect example of the Criminal Tremor.”

“So now, Theo is Theo, but his parents aren’t his parents?” Kira asked.

“Someone’s not someone,” Stiles said.

You slid the papers around and looked at them. Malia was right about them being ‘sort of different,’ but how many receipts had you signed that your signatures looked nothing alike? The key to a good forgery was getting it as similar as possible, and these signatures were pretty damn similar.

“And when I figure out who that someone really is,” Stiles continued, “Someone’s in big trouble.”

“But no one’s actually done anything wrong,” Scott said hesitantly.

“Yet!” Stiles said. “If Theo’s parents are both psychotic killers, then obviously we shouldn’t trust him, right?”

“My parents are Peter and The Desert Wolf,” Malia said.

“Okay-” Stiles rubbed his forehead. “It’s fine. You know what? I’ll figure it out myself. Alright? I don’t need you or you or you.” He paused when he saw the look on your face and relented slightly, “Okay, I kind of need you, but not right now. Right now, I don’t need anyone!”

Stiles blew out of the library just as quickly and dramatically as he came in.

You sighed and started closing your books. Shoving your books into your bag, you said, “I’m gonna follow him. You coming?”

“Duh,” Scott said. He was already standing with his bag on his back.

---

You and Scott stood next to the Jeep for what felt like hours waiting for Stiles and Liam to get back. While you did, you argued about why you couldn’t follow them through the woods (because you’re not there to spy on them!), Scott asked you why you were skipping classes on the first day (because you just needed a break!), and the both of you wished they’d just come out of the damn woods already.

It wasn’t that you and Scott didn’t get along, it was just that things were more intense since you’d died. Everything was heightened and the only person that really understood that was Scott, so he got the worst of your outbursts. To be fair, it never lasted long. The two of you had made up long before Stiles and Liam showed up.

“Find anything?” Scott asked.

“Nope,” Stiles lied, heading for the driver’s side of the Jeep.

“I fell in a hole,” Liam said with an unusual smile.

“Right on, buddy,” you said, putting an arm around him and walking him a few feet back to give them some space.

The Jeep started stammering again when Stiles tried to turn it on. He called your name and asked you to get in the front seat and turn the ignition when he asked. You did as he said as he popped up the Jeep’s hood. You tried the Jeep and it sputtered again. Scott tried to talk to Stiles and he argued. You tried the Jeep again and it faltered. Scott tried to talk to Stiles again and he exploded.

“Why can’t you trust anyone?” Scott asked.

“Because you trust everyone!” Stiles yelled. He slammed his fist into the engine and you felt the vibrations in your seat and the impact in your bones.

You started opening the door but Liam reached out for your arm across the gearshift. “Stiles-”

“Are you okay?” Scott asked.

“I’m fine,” Stiles lied. His heart was racing, but that didn’t shake out the sound of his fist hitting the metal out of your head.

“It could be broken,” you said quietly, mostly to yourself than to Liam or anyone else. “He could’ve broken his hand.”

You couldn’t focus on anything else until the Jeep kicked back to life underneath you. Looking up, you met Stiles’ eyes through the windshield - you didn’t know who looked like more ready to cry.

“Get in,” you said. “I’ll take you home. Scott can take Liam.”

“But I-”

“I can take you home,” Scott said. He nodded at you as Liam got out of the car. The two of them drove away before Stiles even got in the car.

The door came to a deafeningly quiet close and you didn’t know what to say to him so you didn’t. You didn’t realize this was bothering him so much. Maybe it wasn’t this specifically, but this in general. The ever-changing this.

“Look, I know you think I’m crazy but I just don’t trust him, okay?” Stiles said. He was trying so hard to keep his voice level. “There’s something about him. Something off. I can feel it and I- I just need to prove it.”

“I didn’t think you were crazy,” you said. “I’ve never thought you were crazy, Stiles. Not now. Not when you were in Eichen. Not even when you were thirteen and convinced me that stealing a police cruiser was a good idea.” You shook your head and started the car. “I just wish you’d talked to me.”

“I know,” Stiles said with a sigh. He rubbed his forehead again, and then he winced at the pain in his hand. “I’m sorry.”

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the drive home, but after five minutes, Stiles moved his hand over to yours on the gearshift. It was cold, still a bit shaky, and it made your heart race just like it always did.

The first things you did when you got to the Stilinski’s was shower and get changed. Melissa said she’d take you home after her hospital shift, but you weren’t sure you could wait that long to get something to eat. It had been a long day. Rubbing your face, you stumbled back to Stiles’ room.

He was sitting on his bed, staring at his conspiracy boards, but he leaned over and grabbed a very familiar metal bottle from the nightstand. “Come on, it’s been at least 12 hours since you had anything.”

“Stiles, I can’t eat in front of you.” You looked down and knocked on the door frame. “It’s pretty morbid.”

“Babe, I’ve seen morbid and this isn’t it,” Stiles said. You weren’t convinced so he held out the bottle again. “Please? Then we can get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you said softly.

You sat on the floor in front of his bed and unscrewed the top. The sticky sweet smell hit you like a ton of bricks and you downed it in a matter of minutes. It felt like a disgusting breath of fresh air.

Stiles put a hand on your shoulder and you rested your head on his knee. He ran a hand through your hair and the two of you stayed like that for a few moments before you got up and sat on the bed with him.

“Why does it feel-” you started with a sigh as you pushed some hair out of Stiles’ face “-like everything’s already overwhelming and depressing?”

“Because school started and everyone always tries to kill us when school starts,” Stiles sighed. He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled you into his chest. Listening to his heart like this was always better than using super-hearing to listen from afar.

“I won’t let anyone kill you,” you said, fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said. His arms tightened around your waist. “No matter what, right?”

“I think we might have to find a new thing,” you said. “The nogitsune … why don’t you just tell me you love me?”

“I love you,” Stiles said without missing a beat.

You leaned up and kissed his jaw. “I love you too.”

Part 33

Tagged: @ietss

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles slow burn #mccall!reader #so close #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 70

After every serious arc, I like to do a fluffy chapter. Super fluffy. And this one is no exception.

There are three people I cannot thank enough for helping with this chapter. First up is @charlylimph-blog for helping me get the character of Charly right. You may remember her briefly as the woman with the collar from the Food Festival arc.

Second, of course, is @satan-parisienne for beta-ing the stuff I churn out. She is in town for New Year’s this week, and I had the absolute pleasure of watching her reactions in real-time (something I haven’t gotten to do in several months)!

Last but not least, @baelpenrose, who has been giving the last few chapters a read to make sure the story is consistent and to poke holes in anything I may have missed or got mixed up.

Happy New Year, and I hope to see you all in the New Roaring 20s!

”Sophia, we sorta kinda maybe need to talk?”

I glanced up from my datapad, rubbing the cramp in my neck as I did. With Insert Winter Holiday – and the crisis with Else – behind us, the backlog at work basically qualified as cruel and unusual punishment in most Terran jurisdictions. Unfortunately, we weren’t on Terra anymore, so I was working twenty hour days trying to get things back on an even keel. Neither my joints nor my partners were very appreciative of it, but at least Conor and Maverick complained less than my spine did.

When I saw my visitor, I stood with much crackling to greet her. Charly bounced in, completely oblivious to my crunchy joints. “You work too much,” she scolded without preamble. “We need a ladies’ night – you, me, Tyche, and Xiomara. No arguments.”

Arching an eyebrow at her uncharacteristically demanding tone, I glanced over her shoulder. A dark silhouette that rivaled Conor’s height flashed a quick, blinding white grin. I shrugged and looked back to the energetic brunette in front of me. “And when am I supposed to have time for a ladies’ night, Charly?”

“I already talked to Xiomara, who talked to Tyche, who told Alistair to clear your calendar the day after tomorrow. So, tomorrow night, we’re getting cute and going out!”

“Three out of four of those names are in relationships,” I pointed out.

“So? It’s drinks with the girls. I tried to ask Grey, but they don’t want to go.” She dropped her eyes and pouted at my navel before looking back in the direction of my face. “Still. It’s not like we have to be on the hunt for sexy fun times just to go out and have drinks together. It’ll be fun. And you know you love the Undine, you just haven’t had an excuse to go back with everything going on.”

Bacon Bloody Marys… I shook my head vigorously, focusing on the present. “You do realize that Xio, Tyche, and I are probably going to talk about work, right?”

“Duh. Geez, that’s what the booze is for. Complaining about work is enhanced… by the booze.”

I sighed. Ever since she had been released from medical observation, I had learned that saying no to Charly was incredibly difficult. Even Tyche just kind of went along with her in something of a confused daze. I swore, the woman had a superpower – people just agreed with her. The only thing standing between her and Galactic domination was the same low threshold my sister and I shared for being around people.

If she was this eager to go out, to a bar, for a girls’ night, who were we to say no?

“Can I at least take today to think about – “ I tried in vain, only to be cut off.

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Girls’ night! Girls’ Night! Ladies’ gonna get druuuuuunk!” she started chanting and dancing in a circle.

Sure enough, the next night saw Tyche fussing over my outfit and hair, gently trying to tousle it into something she obviously understood and I didn’t. Xiomara was laughing hard enough that the only thing saving her from an abrupt, face-first introduction with the floor was the doorway she was leaning against. When I tried to turn my head to scowl at her, Tyche used one very firm fingertip to turn my head back to her. “I’m almost done. Would you just hold still? Sheesh,” she grumbled.

“You know I hate getting dolled up,” I pointed out sulkily.

She ignored me, instead stepping back to look at her handiwork. “I think that will work,” she finally pronounced with a nod.

The mirror she held up made me want to scream. “I look exactly like I did before!” I cried in confusion. “Why did you spend an hour making my hair look exactly the same!?”

With a low growl, she rolled her eyes and shook her head at a now-gasping Xiomara. “Some people just don’t understand,” she sighed dramatically. Glaring at me, she pointed at my hair. “This does not look the same. It looks intentional.”

Xiomara temporarily sobered up enough to contribute her two cents. “Before, you had bed-head. Now, you have sex hair. Big difference.”

“You. Two. Are. Loony,” I ground out. I reached to run a hand through my hair in frustration, only to have Tyche intercept it.

“Don’t you dare. I don’t have time to fix it,” she ordered before dragging me out of my office, my hand still clutched tightly in her grasp. Groaning as loudly as possible in hopes of rescue, I reluctantly allowed myself to be pulled along until we reached the Undine. Once outside, my sister stopped and dropped my hand, giving me one last once-over before seeming content that I hadn’t managed to wreck her painstaking work in the last forty meters.

I was permitted to enter the pub under my own power. Making our way to the back of the space, we found Charly had already claimed a high-top. As soon as we were visible, Coffey gently cupped her jaw in one massive hand and gave her a kiss that was paired with a look that clearly meant Stay out of trouble. Charly just gave him an angelic smile.

Frankly, the odds of that were fifty-fifty. Charly wasn’t reckless – not by a long shot. On the contrary, I had learned in recent weeks that she was usually very quiet and extremely cautious. In absolute, direct conflict with this was an underlying need to play pranks on unsuspecting victims.

Given her usual demeanor, ‘unsuspecting’ was synonymous with ‘everyone on the Ark except Noah and Coffey’. Well, Coffey at least suspected it, but he wasn’t exactly immune to pranks. When I asked her about it once, she just shrugged and told me “Hey, if I’m going to be punished, I may as well deserve it.”

The man in question waved one hand at the three of us before disappearing into the crowd. I honestly had no clue how he did that – he was easily the second tallest human on the ship. More annoyingly, he did it all. The. Damned. Time. It was profoundly frustrating, albeit very impressive. Squashing the sigh I felt bubbling up, I turned back to the table. Tyche and Xiomara were already seated, leaving me a seat across from my sister.

No sooner did I climb onto my seat, than Sebastian came through the crowd with a tray full of drinks. Coconut rum and fruit juice for Tyche, an enormous Bloody Mary for myself, neat whiskey for Xiomara, and eye-catchingly blue something-slushy with a huge wedge of pineapple and an umbrella for Charly. She caught me looking and held it up so I could see it better. “It has alcohol, I swear – blue curacao, cognac, and rum.”

With a skeptic glance, Tyche sniffed the drink and wrinkled her nose. “Sounds like a hangover.”

“Nuh-uh,” Charly retorted. “It sounds like fun!”

Xiomara rolled her eyes before downing her whiskey with a wink at me. “If we’re here to drink, may as well, right?”

An hour and a half later, Sebastian was taking away our most recent set of empty glasses, ducking Tyche’s hand as she gesticulated wildly. She was telling some story to Charly, who had slowly scooted her chair closer and closer. At the moment, she was leaning on the part of the table that was actually in front of my sister, watching and giggling as Tyche enthusiastically flailed and made exaggerated faces. I could not figure out for the life of me what story she was telling, but a few minutes later she tipped her head back with a clap of her hands and a peal of laughter. This sent Charly into a fit of giggles, face down on her arms.

I glanced at Xiomara, who was smiling, but still clearly sober despite her drinks. With a conspiratorial tone, I told her “They are soooo drrrrr… draaa…. dur-rur-rur… Inebriated. Very inebriated.”

Xio stopped mid-sip to arch an eyebrow at me. “You seriously couldn’t get out the word drunk so you went with, of all things, inebriated!?”

Tyche and Charly collapsed into howling laughter at the disbelief in her tone. I just tapped my temple and sat as straight as I possibly could, offended. “Dain bramage, Xio. Loooooots of brain damage.” I ruined my scolding tone by belatedly realizing what I had initially said and snorting with laughter.

That seemed to break the dam to pieces, because I started giggling and could not stop myself no matter how hard I tried. It didn’t help when, just as the giggling started to trickle off, Charly howled “Dain Bramaaaage!” at the top of her lungs and blindly toasted the room with a mostly-empty hurricane glass. The gesture sent the wedge of pineapple on the rim into a tumbling arc…

Right into Xiomara’s whiskey, droplets splashing her face.

I didn’t know whether it was the pineapple or the wet-cat look on Xio’s face, but either way, it was the funniest thing the three of us had ever seen. Soon, Tyche and I were leaning against Charly, fighting for breath against the laughter that was possessing us like minor demons.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Xiomara mock-sneered. “Go ahead, laugh it up. I swear, you three are –“

When she stopped mid-sentence, Tyche popped up like a meerkat. Almost immediately, she was smacking my shoulder and shaking Charly. “Look! Looklooklooklooklook.”

Xiomara was frozen, face slack, mouth half-open with the dying breath of whatever she was about to call us. Her eyes were glued to the entrance of the Undine. I felt two different spots in my neck pop as I snapped my head around to see what she was staring at. At first, all I could see was just an ocean of people getting after-work drinks and socializing… granted, it was a little quieter than I expected, and more people were talking in hushed tones than I remembered from bars back home, but maybe I was just out of touch.

Tyche saved me again by reaching across, grabbing my jaw, and turning my head to face what Xiomara was looking at: a beautiful woman, about my height, with what seemed like miles of thick, black hair, and a stunning blue saree with warm gold and pale green details coming over her shoulder. I could see how she was a show-stopper, honestly, but Xio’s reaction seemed a bit dramatic.

In contrast to this, Charly’s head came up, dislodging Tyche’s hand. “Oh, that’s just Parvati! She’s an artist. I think she told me once she did murals in the Before?”

The statement seemed to snap Xio out of her trance. “What? How do you know her?”

Oblivious to the demanding tone, Charly shrugged. “She works with Hannah a lot. Like, a lot-lot. So I’ve met her a few times. She’s really lovely, honestly. Some of her work is in the database… she did a lot of politically-charged protest art, like this one…what was it called?” She snapped her fingers a few times, lost in thought. “Started with a ‘G’ I think? Refugee something?”

“Refugee Guernica!?” my sister and I demanded at the same time.

“Yeah! That one. The really violent one.”

The piece had been extremely controversial: a hyper-realistic mural of climate refugees, posed to evoke the original Picasso work and gaunt with starvation. That, alone, would have been palatable to the powers-that-were. However… the artist had gone one step further and portrayed what had been livestock in the original work as human beings, feasted upon by the fattened rich. It had also been in true-to-life color, which hadn’t helped soften any blows. Tyche and I had both been breathless the first time we saw an image of it.

“That is the person who did that mural?” Tyche asked, pointing a finger at the woman across the bar.

Charly nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! Parvati Fletcher. Remember? Signed all her murals with a little arrow, fletched with peacock feathers?”

Xiomara’s eyes narrowed. “She did the one decrying the Baconists, didn’t she?”

“Yeah! Animal Farm, the scene where the pigs were adding ‘but some animals are more equal than others’. I don’t know if Parvati has it in her to hate, but the closest I ever saw her come was when she compared Baconists to the rich. She said that the only difference between the two was that Baconists were more honest about wanting annihilate humanity.”

Dark eyes narrowed as Xio flicked open her datapad, summoning data furiously. Abruptly, she relaxed. “I remember this file… We suspected her after what happened on Level One, but Noah confirmed on three separate occasions that she was telling the truth.”

“Duuuuuhhhhhhhhh,” Charly intoned, rolling her eyes comically. “Vati doesn’t argue much, but one thing that will always make her speak is the fact that she only believes that humanity is at its best if everyone is given the opportunity to be their best.”

“That’s… why she’s here, isn’t it?” I asked with dawning comprehension.

“Well, yeah. Why else? You’re here for the same reason, right? You believe in the best in a person, no matter the person, right? Well, she believes in that… It’s like, if you’re a psychologist, she would be a sociologist. She believes in the best in humanity, not just the best in a person.”

Huh. That was a breath of fresh air. I glanced back at Xiomara. She looked lost, and I followed her sight back to the same blue and earth-tone saree, shining dark hair, and a bright white laugh. I glanced back and forth a few times before the realization hit me between the eyes like a sledgehammer. The gaping stare, the quick background check and almost melting relief… “Xio?” I whispered in that special, extra-quiet volume only drunk people can use. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Tell the whole bar, why don’t you?” she grumbled.

“Hey, I’m not judging,” I held my hands up placatingly. “I just…. I had a completely different idea in mind for your type, that’s all. Took me a bit to realize I was so, so wrong.”

“Oh, yeah, peopling-queen?” she smirked. “Do tell, what did you have in mind as ‘my type’?”

“Well, I saw this video once of a lady who broke a pumpkin in half between her thighs…” I gave her a pointed look.

Next to her, Tyche nodded vigorously. “And more sharp objects. We both thought your affections could only be won by someone who could best you in single combat.”

Charly scowled. “There are more types of combat than fighting, you two. I bet Parvati has incited more political uprisings than any four people at this table.” My brows furrowed and I opened my mouth to say something, but Charly rolled her eyes again and cut me off. “Yes, Sophia. I am aware there are only four people at this table. That’s the point.”

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#the miys #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #aliens #science fiction #original sci fi #apocalypse #alcohol #art #earth is space australia #original fiction

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spirit-of-the-void · 4 years

Text

Gunpowder and Flower Petals (Dante x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 4

Author’s notes: Back at it again, on sundays now! Have some cute date stuff, I worked very hard on it <3

Chapter Four

~Strawberry Crepes and Coffee Mugs~

Dante, for all his time spent fighting demons and trying not to die, could not remember the last time he was so god damn nervous.

Holding your hand, heading toward a quaint-looking bakery near your shop was somehow harder to handle than facing a horde of one hundred demons. Although that could be attributed to the fact that he was used to such scenarios. Swinging a sword, firing a gun, the spray of blood from some scumbag demon...that was the life he knew. Not this--a life of sunshine, flower petals and soft domestic things like going on a date. Growing up as he did, even dating as a teenager was never really an option. Always back to targets, to fighting--blood, steel, and bullets. Content to just look at magazines and flirt with the occasional woman who crossed his path, which somehow always led to him getting stabbed, beaten, or shot. He got the message right away that maybe love and romance just wasn’t in his cards. So...Dante the Devil Hunter gave up on relationships, and stuck to what he knew.

Until today, that is. What in the world was it about you that changed his mind, that brought down some of his self-imposed rules he always abided by? You left him a bumbling mess, which usually Dante would hate and try to avoid at all costs. But like a moth to the flame, he returned almost eagerly to keep this connection to you. Because despite how off putting it was to feel silly and flustered by a woman, it was nice. Maybe he was just getting too old, craving normalcy in his life after all these years of just dealing with Vergil’s messes and fighting demons? Whatever the reason, Dante felt like his heart was ready to burst from pounding too hard, working overtime at even the slightest things that should in no way be that exciting. The soft skin of your warm fingers, the way your eyes lit up when he returned to the store...no woman had given him these feelings before. Even the sight of sunlight glinting off your curls had him light headed and almost entranced.

Maybe you were a fae. One that was enchanting the devil hunter and would someday steal him away into the woods, never to be seen again.

Regardless, he couldn’t really care. Dante had gone through all the necessary steps for this date that Trish, Lady, and oddly enough Vergil had deemed acceptable. Upon seeing his brother ready to leave the house in the same leather and dull t-shirt Vergil looked damn near close to bursting a blood vessel. The women had given him a crash course on how to treat a lady on a date, and Vergil had flung the button up at his face with a bottle of cologne. Dante wasn’t sure how to feel about his outfit, but at least he managed to trim up his face and pull back the hair. You deserved far better than some scruffy mess to take you out on a date, and yet here Dante was walking down the street for some lunch. Holding hands with a flower girl, trying to justify to himself why it was acceptable to be here.

Seeing you look so happy...maybe it was worth it.

Because Dante couldn’t deny the excitement in your eyes, the way your soft lips tilted up in a very obvious display of delight. It was still surprising that such a gentle woman would want to know someone like him, who would be eager to just talk and have some lunch. Oddly enough, he found himself incredibly eager as well--you were kind and made for easy conversation, presence alone enough to make the demons and bloodshed of his line of work seem far away.

The answer to your question, of what his favorite sweets were, was enough to make your face light up like a child on Christmas morning. For a second, Dante thought he saw a new flower appear in your curls, but maybe it was just hidden underneath? You certainly had a talent for pinning flora to your head.

“I love strawberries!” You exclaimed, smile cheerful and hand squeezing his a bit, “I grow some in my garden! Alex and his wife use them for pastries and desserts sometimes, so I’m fairly positive you’ll be able to try some.”

How often his mind seemed to forget, you owned a flowershop. It made sense that more than a few flowers would be grown there.

Dante smirked a bit, expression wry as he met your bright eyes, “You never cease to amaze, sunshine. I might have to buy some off of you when we get back to your shop.”

God, the way your cheeks pinked ever so slightly at his praises did things to his heart. What in the world was wrong with him? He gave girls compliments all the time, hopelessly silly flirting that meant nothing and just boiled down to him getting shot or punched. But when it came to you...maybe it was different when he was actually trying?

“N...nonsense! They grow super fast, and I...I’d happily give you some for free.” You disagreed softly, hiding your embarrassed expression behind your curls a little bit.

He chuckled in response, noticing a few more flower petals scattering out of your hair as he replied, “Can’t deny a pretty girl her business--what kind of guy would I be then?”

You flushed more at that, looking absolutely frazzled. It was incredibly cute, so much that Dante was having issues keeping his own emotions in check. Heart racing, free hand practically making tracks in his goddamn hair...Years of fighting demons hadn’t prepared him for dating, not by a long shot. It was so strange--it felt like every single bad habit he had grown accustomed to in the past few years was coming back to haunt him. The way he ate, acted, the recklessness…and it was only day one. How the hell was he supposed to get through hours of trying not to make an absolute fool out of himself?

The answer to that question? He was going to make a fool out of himself no matter what.

You finally reached the bakery before a reply could be formed, Dante making sure to open the door for you like a gentleman would. A smile curled your lips as you stepped inside, now surrounded by the deliciously warm aroma of baked goods and coffee. Lunchtime seemed relatively calm despite the obvious popularity of a local business, tables dotted with an occasional couple or singular human enjoying lunch before going on with their day. It was a far cry from the boring, company owned coffee places Dante usually stopped at for his usual cup. Bright, vivid, warm and inviting--even the man behind the counter smiled eagerly upon your arrival, easily recognizing you and looking absolutely delighted. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his fifties or sixties, with little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. This was definitely Alex, no doubt about that.

The man in question set down the mug he was cleaning, coming out from behind the counter as he greeted warmly, “Y/N! Thanks for coming by, we haven’t seen you in a while!” His gaze lifted to Dante, who was still holding your hand after opening the door. The devil hunter expected wariness, maybe worry at seeing someone like him accompanying you at all. But there was only curiosity, and a hint of surprise as he asked, “Never seen you come in with someone before! Who’s your friend?”

You seemed to be trying your best not to get flustered, but there was a hint of pink to your cheeks regardless. Dante held his hand out for a shake before you could reply, giving enough time for you to gather yourself as he provided helpfully, “Dante--you must be Alex, yeah?”

The baker had a firm handshake, seeming pleased with Dante’s friendliness as he hummed, “That’s me! My wife and I run this fine establishment, and Y/N here is a sort of business partner--she provides wonderful seasonal fruits when our sellers fall short! Don’t know what we’d do without her.”

You managed a light huff at that, looking far more collected while being appropriately modest, “You’re far too kind...you and Bella do a lot for me, some cases of strawberries or blueberries is nothing in comparison.”

By your tone, it seemed like you were trying very hard not to take credit for anything.

Alex grinned cheerfully, turning his gaze back to Dante as he continued, “She’s far too modest for her own good--but enough about that, you two came in for some food right?” The baker looked a bit playful, raising a brow at you and chuckling lightly, “How about we set up you and your date with some lunch?”

The very mention of “dating” made your cheeks flush, a handful of petals drifting out onto the floor from those beautiful locks. Dante tried not to smirk, he really did, but seeing your reactions was just so fucking adorable. Though he did notice that there was definitely more flowers in your hair, there was no mistaking that--he wasn’t sure what kind, but they were bright and beautiful as they drifted some soft flora onto the ground. Alex seemed used to it, not minding at all as he gave a hearty laugh and gestured to a nearby table for you both to sit down.

“Take a load off--I’ll let you both look at some menus and come by with whatever you want,” Alex hummed, practically skipping back to the counter with a good-natured smile as he winked at you both, “My treat.”

Dante was flattered to say the least--He may not be the wealthiest, and struggled to manage money without Vergil there to manage the funds, but he would be damned before he let his date pay for the food or whatever they were out doing. This baker seemed determined not to let them spend anything, however, which Dante was tempted to argue with. There was obviously no need--you beat him to it easily.

Alex’s firm declaration made you sputter instantly, blinking owlishly at the man as you protested, “B...but I have money, surely you don’t need to--”

“Nonsense! I’m not taking a dime from you or your date.”

Alex waved away your protests, heading back into his kitchen to probably tell his wife you were there. He was a pretty nice guy--Dante could respect someone like him, a man who rooted himself in kindness and wholesome business practices. Once upon a time, the devil hunter could have seen himself doing the same thing when he grew up...as a child, he imagined a slew of things as his future. Police officer, baker, business owner, musician--it changed like the wind flowing, sparking with whatever held his interest at that time, or from whatever book or show he was into. He was different than Vergil, who only seemed hellbent on being just like their father. Sword fighting and training were always for fun, something to do with his brother.

Danted missed those days.

Focus, idiot.

Dante turned his attention back to you, not shocked when he found you staring after Alex in exasperation. You slumped in your chair, letting out a low sigh and pushing some curly locks back in a gesture that was almost...shy. It was definitely cute, and those pretty cheeks were still flushed. Dante felt his woes and musings about the past slowly start drifting away, like flower petals on the breeze as he smirked and finally met that wonderful gaze--there was bashfulness there, and a hint of embarrassment. There was so much he wanted to know about what went on inside your head, where your thoughts were going.

“People really care about you, sunshine,” He mused, plucking up two menus from a nearby holder and holding one out to you expectantly. You looked surprised by his comment, even more so when he continued on, “Don’t be too upset with your friend--nice guy that one. Though I gotta admit, he did steal my thunder a bit...here I was gearing up to pay for it myself.”

That made you smile softly, opening the menu to hide your face behind it. Didn’t do much good, he still saw a bunch of petals scatter out onto the floor and parts of the table.

“W...well...we might as well eat…” You murmured, clearing your throat a bit and peeking over the object shielding you from view, “For the record, you...you don’t have to do that…”

“Do what?” Dante replied, raising a brow and leaning his head on one hand.

You flushed a bit more, squirming in your seat and blowing a petal out of your face. He fought a chuckle, enjoying your reactions and mannerisms far too much.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Was your eventual reply, nose scrunching up a little bit as your eyes darted back to the menu, “I don’t want to inconvenience you is all. It’s...It’s just the first date and I...um…”

Damn, he felt like a giddy kid at his first school dance. Dante couldn’t help himself--a bit of an awkward chuckle escaped his lips, one hand scratching underneath his loose ponytail in a display of his own nervousness.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I made a nice lady pay for everything?” He tsked slightly, a few strands of hair falling loose when he shook his head, “Don’t worry yourself, sunshine. Ain’t no way in hell you could ever inconvenience me.”

You just sitting here with me is proof that some higher power is giving me a blessing.

Your cheeks flushed again, head ducked behind the menu as you pretended to scan for something to eat as a means of distraction. Dante could only chuckle softly, closing his own menu after picking exactly what he wanted with ease. This place definitely had the fixings to make his sweet tooth happy, no denying that. Pastries, cookies, cakes, bread, sundaes, parfaits...It had been awhile since he treated himself to anything other than cheap pizza and beer. Vergil hated both, but it was all he would allow Dante on their newfound “budget”. Things had gotten easier since their demon hunting was being technically counted as government work while things were so hectic, but...this was a nice change of pace. Sitting in a bakery with a beautiful girl, getting to know her over some sweets and coffee...it seemed so far from what he was used to.

Regardless, a beautiful woman appeared out from the kitchen, hair in braids and looking just as cheerful as Alex was. She was wearing an apron stained with flour, dusting off her hands even as she clutched a little notepad for taking orders--no doubt Alex had informed her of you being in the bakery with someone new, blushing and on a date. Her green eyes lit up when she spotted the table, curious and eager when she took in the white-haired male lounging calmly and you hiding your face behind a menu. Dante tried to make it seem like he hadn’t noticed her, tapping your foot under the table to get your attention--she hadn’t approached the table yet, and was merely hovering near the counter spying with absolutely no subtlety. Not that he minded--it was just a little odd in his opinion.

You jolted as soon as his foot touched yours, sitting up straight and meeting his gaze. The devil hunter grinned, pointing lightly while hiding it behind his other hand.

“I’m guessing that’s Bella?” He hummed low, leaning closer to you for some semblance of privacy. Your flushed face was absolutely adorable, but you did put your head nearer to his, listening closely and nodding at his question.

“It is...I’m sorry…” Your voice was soft, filled with hesitation as you tried not to make it obvious to Bella that you were talking about her, “M...maybe we should have gone somewhere else...I hope my friends aren’t bothering you.”

Dante immediately shook his head, heart squeezing at the forlorn look in your eyes. Precious girl was concerned about his comfort, which was sweet to say the least. But...the devil hunter wasn’t bothered, not when he knew damn well Trish, Lady, and Vergil had to be somewhere nearby watching in secret. All three were way too curious to stay behind at Devil May Cry while he went on a date, no doubt about that.

So Dante reached out, gently grasping your fingers, enjoying the way your eyes lit up and cheeks flushed pink in response.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” He winked, giving your hand a light squeeze before leaning back again, “I’m not bothered at all--I’d even venture to say I’m having a lot of fun. I don’t get out too often like this, it’s...well, it’s a nice change of pace.”

The way he spoke made you curious, there was no doubting that. You opened your mouth to reply, maybe to ask some questions about his lifestyle or what he meant, but Bella decided in that moment she had enough of standing by and spying. She hopped up from behind the counter, strolling over to the table with a friendly smile and meeting your startled gaze with an eager one of her own.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Y/N,” She greeted, green orbs sliding over to Dante in the next instant as she added, “Alex told me you were here on a date--Dante, right?”

She held out her hand, eyes flashing with a hint of wariness unlike her husband and ignoring the way your face flushed at the very mention of being on a date.. Ah--it was pretty clear she was protective of you, like an older sister that was trying to see if she trusted him or not. He could respect that--honestly had Dante left the house looking as he had in the morning Alex and Bella could have easily mistaken him for a degenerate of some sort.

He shook her hand warmly, offering a friendly grin as he replied, “Pleasure to meet ya. Y/N spoke high praises of you and Alex--I can see why. Beautiful place you’ve got here.”

His laid back manner of speaking made her relax a bit, a low breath stirring the air as she replied, “She’s a sweetheart that one. She’d speak nice of us even if we served slop here.”

“Hey!” You protested, looking thoroughly flustered while looking between the two.

Bella simply gave a good-natured laugh, reaching her free hand out to tussle those beautiful curls. You didn’t lean away from the gesture, exasperated expression melting into a rueful smile. Bella almost had a motherly air about her when it came to you, or that of an older sibling. Something about seeing so many kind people surrounding you felt...nice, especially when he remembered what you mentioned at the shop. Losing your mother at a young age, and no mention of your father or any other family...it seemed like you didn’t surround yourself with many people, so knowing there was at least Alex and Bella there on your behalf was oddly relieving.

“Now--what can I get you two lovebirds?” Bella finally asked, so innocent she should have been wearing a halo despite the wicked gleam in her eyes. She was enjoying this whole situation far too much, that was apparent.

You cleared your throat a bit, looking at Dante as if expecting him to order first. He merely smirked in response, gesturing with one hand for you to proceed. The devil hunter was a bit curious about what you liked to eat and drink, so this was a learning experience.

“The hibiscus tea, please...with honey.” You closed the menu, gently handing it to Bella and looking sheepish.

“The usual amount?” Bella inquired, smiling cheerfully as she wrote it down on the little notepad.

“Mhm...and can I get an order of strawberry crepes?”

Damn, that sounded pretty freaking good. Dante hadn’t really had something like crepes in a long time, and the idea of it was a bit more appealing than the parfait he had planned. Plus...eating something you liked would be nice, though tea wasn’t really his favorite thing. Better to supplement with coffee.

“Drizzled with nutella then? Do you want whipped cream?” Bella was asking when he focused again, scribbling everything down on that little pad of paper. The more she spoke the more his mouth began to water. Maybe skipping breakfast wasn’t the best idea?

You were nodding to everything, occasionally peeking at him through that curtain of curly hair. The way each strand framed your cheeks was absolutely enchanting, peppered with flowers and petals like a forest fairy sitting in a patch of sunlight. He was zoning out just gazing at you, head still resting on his hand and probably looking like an absolutely slack-jawed oaf. Whatever his expression was it made you flush pink, a cute smile tilting your lips and some more petals falling to the floor in an amassing pile. Man...he was seriously in deep, wasn’t he?

Bella didn’t seem to mind, only letting out a small giggle and turning to Dante next for his order despite him not really paying attention either. The absolutely star struck expression on his face was definitely easing her further. Not that he noticed.

“And what can I get you, big guy?” She inquired, tapping him on the shoulder and startling him out of whatever trance he was in. Dante at least had the good graces to look bashful, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head again in that nervous little gesture.

“U...uh…yeah,” He mumbled, coughing once before continuing on more soundly, “Latte for me. And an order of those crepes Y/N decided on.”

You perked up at that, looking absolutely delighted while Bella jotted down the order. The cheerful woman let out a pleased hum, tucking the little notepad away before grinning at the couple trying not to stare at each other.

“I’ll have your drinks right out,” She promised, giving you a not-so-subtle wink, “And Alex will get to work on those crepes. You two have fun.”

She gave a little wave of her fingers, slipping between the tables with a pep in her step while you flushed pink again. All at once the two of you were left alone, so many questions to ask and things to learn with no real jumping off point. Dante settled back in his chair again, tilting his head as he eyed your flushed face--you were nervous, sure, but also happy by the looks of it. There was a glint of delight in your eyes, and something about your expression radiated a pure joy that left him more than a little breathless and chest squeezing lightly. Hell, your whole presence was oddly...relaxing, in a way that reminded him of sitting in a flower meadow with the sun shining down and a breeze rustling his hair. Which was odd, to be honest, considering the fact that he didn’t recall ever being in such a scenario before. Maybe when he was still a child, before things all went to hell?

Don’t think about that. Not right now, with her.

Dante let out a slow breath, leaning forward again to put himself at better eye level with you. It made you sit up straighter, little heart probably hammering in your chest as your cheeks gave you away every time. It was charming the hell out of him.

“Tell me about you, sunshine,” He said, tone low and intimate in that little corner where you both sat, “I know you own your own business--what made you decide to start growing flowers?”

You seemed taken aback by such an upfront question, settling in the chair with your hands on your lap. For a second Dante was afraid he had been too forward in his questioning, but the small, wistful smile on your lips made the fear halt in its tracks. It was the kind of smile he knew well, the one someone wore while remembering something dear to them.

You shifted a bit, hand instinctively reaching up to clasp a locket dangling around your neck. It was a pretty little silver thing, with intricate patterns forming into the shape of a flower. The way you clutched it between your fingers was almost instinctive, like breathing or blinking.

“My mother and I had a garden when I was little,” You replied softly, eyes glowing with the sunlight that came out of a nearby window. Dante felt his breath catch at your response, heart growing tighter as you continued gently, “She taught me how to respect nature, how to nurture seedlings and flora. After she died...its one of the ways I remember her. It makes me happy.”

Damn...he remembered you mentioning the loss of her mother at a young age. That first day in the shop when they met, he had been going there to get roses because his own mother loved them so much. It was one of the first things that made him feel...connected somehow, that sharing of a tragedy. He knew that pain all too well, it was one of the things that made him who he was today, shaping his very existence. That day in the mansion, trapped in a closet and forced to listen as his mother was murdered by demons. The memory alone was enough to make that familiar pain and regret return, as much as he tried to push it down. There was another part of him curious about how your mother died, but asking would be incredibly rude and definitely not something for a first date.

Stop thinking about it.

“She...sounds like a wonderful person,” He cleared his throat again, leaning on his hands and staring into your eyes as they lifted his way, “I’m certain she’d be proud--you do wonderful stuff at that shop. Hell--I’m positive my mother would have adored the roses I bought from you.”

That made you perk up, eyes soft and curious at the mention of his own lost mother. Almost instinctively, you reached one gentle hand out to clasp his, the thrill of it traveling up his spine like a giddy jolt of electricity.

“What was she like--your mother?” You inquired, a bit hesitant as well considering the heavy nature of the discussion.

Christ...when was the last time he opened up to anyone about his mother? Despite Trish looking exactly like Eva, he never spoke to her about it. Ever. It was just a fact that hung between them, a mutual understanding. Lady wasn’t one for discussions like there either, and Vergil talking about his emotions was entirely out of the question. Part of him didn’t want to bare that much of himself to you so early, and yet...it was pleasant, this feeling. To have someone who would listen without judgement, to act normal and human for even a day. Like a paradise away from his job and life, a small reprieve he wasn’t sure was deserved. But his mouth opened anyway, the rest of the world fading away while the devil hunter spoke to you. Not feeling like a devil hunter, just...Dante.

“I lost her when I was little too, so I don’t remember all that much,” He admitted, blowing a soft breath out from his cheeks, “I remember her being kind, caring...a wonderful mother. She must’ve had a ton of patience to deal with me and my brother while we bickered.”

You perked up a bit in surprise, opening your mouth to ask another question when Bella slid up to the table. The sound of her setting down two cups made you both jump, turning to gaze at her sheepishly while she smirked in absolute amusement. Much to Dante’s dismay, you released his hand, leaving it with a feeling that was oddly…lonely. Not to mention, having someone sneak up on him was a strange sensation, one that would usually prompt him to whip out his pistol or sword. Neither were on him thankfully, and it left Dante feeling a bit out of place as you thanked Bella and slid his cup closer to him.

“Thank you so much, these look wonderful.” You beamed, lifting a beautiful tea cup to your lips to inhale the scent. The liquid inside was steaming hot, a pretty color that was different from the usual teas he saw. Whatever hibiscus tea was, it smelled lovely and drifted with the faintest hints of honey.

His own latte looked far too beautiful to drink, the foam on top decorated to look like a leaf. Damn, it was prettier than anything he had consumed in his whole life.

“Looks great.” He complimented, meaning it wholeheartedly as he grinned at Bella.

She nodded, winking at you both again as she replied, “I’ll be back soon with your food, don’t mind me.”

The woman slipped away again, back to the counter to take the order of a new set of people coming in. Dante made sure to take pause, lifting his own cup of coffee to sample a taste of the liquid inside. It was pleasantly hot and sweet as it rolled over his tongue, a delight after the cheap coffee they had at Devil May Cry in the past month. Honestly, he’d have to come here more often, just to treat himself occasionally after work. The warm atmosphere, the smell of bread and pastries mingling with coffee...it was relaxing, soothing in the strangest way. And yet...he was almost positive that it wouldn’t be nearly as so without you there, hair glowing in the sun and drifting in the scent of flora.

He looked at you from over his cup, enjoying the way you savored your tea with gentle sips. You set it down soon after, meeting his eyes with that gentle curiosity as you remembered the question that Bella cut off before.

“You have a brother?”

Oh yeah...he mentioned Vergil, didn’t he? Not by name, but...how much they bickered.

Dante scratched the back of his head, taking another sip of coffee to help clear his throat as he grunted, “Sure do...a twin, if you can believe that,” Your mouth popped open in surprise, so he continued on ruefully, “He’s…a bit problematic. We got separated after mother died, and he uhh...made some bad choices. Never really got along with him all that well, but...he stays with me now, helps with the business.”

Christ...he never realized just how much he couldn’t talk about with you until now. He preferred to keep you as far away from demon hunting as possible, and Vergil had done so much unbelievably terrible shit that there wasn’t much he could say without you being horrified. The Tower, the Qliphoth tree, Urizen, V…there was so much to unpack, even without bringing Nero and the fact that he was Dante’s nephew into the mix. God damn...his life really was a disaster, wasn’t it?

Still...everything he said hadn’t been a lie. Just...not the exact truth.

You nodded in understanding, sympathy in your gaze as you replied softly, “I mean...is your relationship any better now? I don’t have siblings, I can’t imagine really going through something like being on bad terms with a brother or sister like that.”

Dante seriously doubted you could have anyone hate you at all.

He chuckled, reaching out to pat your hand as he replied, “Don’t worry too much, sunshine. It’s not perfect, but at least he’s where I can make sure he’s not doing stupid shit. He’s trying to be better, which is worth something I guess.”

Vergil certainly wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. But his twin had the feeling that all the terrible shit he had done was finally starting to click, even just a little bit.

“I see…” You murmured, tucking some of that beautiful hair behind your ear as you gazed up at him again. There seemed to be a sudden realization, that beautiful gaze blinking owlishly at him as you added, “Wait...you said you have a business too? What sort of business do you run?”

Ah…fuck, he had mentioned that, hadn’t he? What the hell could she tell you about Devil May Cry that wasn’t a lie? The name of it alone was pretty strange, telling a story that he had literally no excuses for. And yet...there was a part of him that felt uneasy about the idea of making something up, especially when he was on the first date with you. Trying to start a relationship on a bed of lies seemed so wrong, as hesitant as he was to even admit that’s what he was trying to do. But...Dante liked you a lot, felt soothed by your presence. Even now he was ready to admit he wanted to do this again, wanted an excuse to keep meeting you. Pushing the demons of his past away, growing close to someone in the hopes of growing near to them...surely he was allowed that much?

Dante let out a low sigh, struggling to form his reply a bit as it tumbled out awkwardly, “Err...It’s…kind of hard to explain. We kind of do odd jobs for the government, nothing illegal I swear...it’s just nothing that’s completely normal…”

I sound like a complete jackass, a shady one at that.

Government jobs? Odd jobs? He sounded like a drug dealer, or a hit man when speaking like that. Not that his actual job was any better--being a demon hunter was no small thing, it was absolutely not the kind of thing he could talk about.

You blinked, not seeming phased in the slightest as he tried to form a coherent response. That surprised him a bit, even when you reached out to grasp his hand again with your warm fingers. Even more so after holding that cup of tea, it was absolutely pleasant.

“I don’t think you’re doing anything illegal,” You assured, smiling at the nervous mannerisms he displayed and squeezing softly, “And you don’t have to explain everything to me, not when it makes you uncomfortable. There’s...definitely things I can’t talk about right now too...and that’s okay.”

You smiled warmly, something in your eyes looking hesitant and distant again. That look stirred those emotions in his chest, that ache brought forth by knowing something was definitely troubling that gentle soul of yours. The idea of someone hurting a gentle, loving girl like you was...well, it stirred up that part of him he knew was capable of violence. That protective part of him, the one that just wanted you safe and happy. But he wasn’t going to push it, especially not with you respecting his boundaries like you were. To do so would be deeply disrespectful--these things could come in time, and he wanted to learn more, to get closer to you.

So he let out a slow breath, lifting your fingers gently up to his lips. You held back a squeak of surprise, cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink and numerous petals falling from your hair as he brushed your warm digits ever so slightly. That reaction definitely made his own nervousness worth it, made everything worth it.

“We have time, sunshine.” He agreed, giving you smile that was equal parts sheepish and equal parts warmth, “As much as we need.”

You nodded once, eyes bright with delight and excitement as he continued to hold your hand. So lost in that moment, neither of you noticed Bella walking up until she cleared her throat, causing you to spring apart like two teenagers caught making out. She chuckled, setting down two exquisite plates of crepes before the blushing duo with absolute mirth glinting in her eyes. Dante wasn’t one for feeling bashful, but damn, this was as close as he could get. It felt like he was catching up on a lot of shit he missed out on in life, this whole scenario being one of them. It was nice, in an odd way, to share something so normal and domestic with you.

Bella chortled cheerfully, winking at Dante as she hummed, “Don’t mind me--just dropping off some food. You two enjoy now.”

Dante barely managed to clear his throat, managing a gruff, “Thanks, Bella.”

You nodded, hands pressed to your warms cheeks as you mumbled, “Mhmm...looks great.”

Bella chuckled again, patting your head before sauntering off toward Alex, who was peeking out of a window overlooking the kitchen with unbridled interest in his eyes. Both were absolutely enthralled by this date going on between the two of you, not that Dante could blame them. You two made quite the pair, he a bit scraggly and handsome, rough around the edges. And you... the softest, prettiest looking woman in the shop. Dante wasn’t sure what to make of the whole situation--he definitely felt like he didn’t deserve you, even so early on in this strange relationship in bloom. You were sunshine and flower petals, he was blood and gunpowder. His whole life was the slash of steel through flesh, of demons howling for his death.

There were so many that would hurt you just to get to him.

But seeing your bright eyes, the way your lips curled softly as you lifted a bite of some absolutely beautiful strawberry crepe to your lips...Then the way you looked up at him, eyes gentle with shyness and curls tucked behind your ear--it was enough to wash the worries away, just for that day. Dante was positive that later he would try to talk himself out of it, if only to keep you safe.

But for now…he would forget the worries, and share that moment with you and you alone.

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#devil may cry #devil may cry five #dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #dante #dante x reader #flowershop fic #flowershop oc #flowers #romance #dante sparda

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reddielibrary · 4 years

Text

Wrapped in You (Is Where I Long to Be)

Written by @patroclusandachilles

Gift for @eddieneedshisinhaler

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Word count: 1699

Rating: Teen

AO3 Link

Summary: Eddie and Richie make a happier tradition on the anniversary of Eddie's (temporary) death...in a pillow fort.

Eddie walked in the door to his apartment with a frown on his face for the millionth time in what seemed as many weeks. The weight of nursing classes, his internship at the hospital, and his actual paying job as a risk analyst causing him to shuffle dead-eyed and hunch-backed through life. Yeah, he could have quit his job and let Richie the famous comedian pay for everything, but he would never let himself live that down. He was done relying on other people to take care of him- nightmares of Myra and his mother’s suffocating overprotectiveness plagued what little sleep he did manage to get. It was hard, but he would get through it himself with only emotional support accepted from his partner.

Emotional support that he wasn’t expecting tonight.

It was the anniversary of It’s (and his own) death.

Eddie leaned against the door, eyes closed and mind screaming at him to just sleep. But he couldn’t. Richie needed him tonight as he did every year. After everything Richie had done for him- from being by his side for every second of his hard earned recovery to showing him what it truly meant to be held and loved and seen every day since he opened his eyes to a new life- Eddie owed him his support on his hardest day of the year.

He may not have the energy, but by Maturin, Richie would be none the wiser.

He dropped his keys into the dish by the front door and dragged himself down the hall, ready for a cold shower to wake him up and about fifty cups of coffee. But when he turned the corner from his hallway, he didn’t see his spotless living room and empty kitchen. He saw a giant mess of pillows and blankets and furniture piled together in the middle of the room.

And in front of it all stood a beaming Richie, practically bouncing from his excitement.

« Eds Spaghads, love of my life! You’re finally home! » Richie rushed over to him and bundled him into a whole body hug, Eddie’s face crushed against Richie’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around Richie’s back.

« Whatrudonghre, » was all Eddie could manage to squeak out as the breath was lovingly squeezed out of him by his partner.

« I’m here to surprise you, of course. » Richie loosened his grip, making it easier for Eddie to look up at him. « You’ve been so stressed lately, I thought we could have some silly childish fun to make up for it. »

« Childish fun? » Eddie looked back at the fort. It was rather impressive, though much too small for two grown men to fit in simultaneously. « But I thought that you’d need me to…? The anniversary.... »

Richie squeezed him again, but only briefly before letting him go entirely and turning to work his way into the masterpiece of furniture and comfort. « Uh-uh, I think we’ve both had enough sadness for one lifetime. I’m sick of dwelling on everything that came before. It brought us here, it brought us together, but that’s all it was good for. I’m done thinking about it. I think it’s about time we make a new tradition! Only fun and love and cuddles forever! » Richie got tangled in the hanging blankets comprising the entrance and nearly took down one of the support beams. He managed to duck and dodge and untangle himself, but not before face planting right into the sea of pillows.

Despite his exhaustion, Eddie couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up. Watching Richie try to maneuver his giant body into the childish tent was better than any restless sleep he would have gotten on his own. Every wide smile Richie sent his way was doing more to loosen his muscles than any shower ever could. And the big goofy giggles Richie was now singing into the pillows made his heart pound faster than the strongest cup of coffee. « Eds! Get in here! What good’s a super secret hideaway without someone to share it with? »

« You aren’t supposed to share secrets, asshole, » Eddie replied, affection clear in his tone. « Then it’s not a secret anymore. »

Richie, having turned himself around, was now resting against the back of Eddie’s couch and patting the pillows next to him. « Secrets aren’t any fun without you, Eds. » He pretended to pout, trying to lure Eddie in with his big puppy-dog eyes, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

Eddie felt the same way, large smile now permanently plastered to his own face. Yet, ever the practical half of the relationship, Eddie wasn’t ready to join Richie just yet. « Let me get my pajamas first. There’s no way I’m wearing a suit while you’re sitting there in sweatpants and a ripped 20 year old t-shirt. »

Walking to his bedroom, he heard shouted behind him, « Hurry up or I’ll eat all the popcorn without you! »

Eddie walked faster.

By the time he was in a comfortable set of clothes and back out in the living room, Richie had managed to eat all the popcorn anyway. « I was hungry, » he said with a shrug, tossing the empty bowl outside the fort.

« Whatever, dork, » Eddie said, rolling his eyes fondly and dropping to the ground to begin his own perilous climb into the tiniest blanket fort ever seen by man. He dodged the support beam and managed to get halfway turned around to sit next to Richie when a stray pillow caught his foot and sent him sprawling right into Richie’s lap. « Mmph, » was all he could say.

« Not so easy, is it Eduardo? And to think, you were laughing at your poor giant boyfriend not ten minutes ago. Aren’t you supposed to be the small one? » Richie pulled Eddie up by his arms, maneuvering them both until they were face to face, Richie’s legs bracketed by Eddie’s own.

Eddie gently swatted at Richie’s chest. « Well, if there wasn’t already a huge ass in here, maybe I would have had more luck. » He rested his hands against the couch behind Richie’s head.

« You wound me, Eddie! And to think, I went through all this trouble just to be called names...the ingratitude of it all! »

Eddie let out a quick chuckle. « Who’s the one calling names, Trashmouth? That’s the first time you’ve used my actual name tonight. »

Richie smiled up at him. « Yeah, but you love it, don’t you darling, dearest, honey bunches, sweetheart, spaghetti man of my life? »

« I will admit nothing. »

Eddie tried to deny how much he loved Richie’s nicknames for him, but his eyes gave everything away. They softened more and more with each endearment spoken by Richie. « Light of my dark. » Eddie blushed. « My treasure. » Eddie’s face melted into a tender gaze. « My little Chewbacca of the woods. »

« What the actual fuck, Richie? » Eddie was laughing again, burying his face in Richie’s chest. « Jesus, dude. »

Richie’s chest shook him in time with Richie’s own laughter. « I read it in a list of endearments online, thought I’d give it a try. Not doing it for you? » He brought his arms around Eddie, pulling him impossibly closer.

Eddie pushed his face against Richie’s neck. « I fucking knew it. I knew you couldn’t possibly come up with all those names yourself. »

Richie merely shrugged beneath him, his hands travelling up Eddie’s back and moving around to rest over his chest. They sat like that for a minute, still chuckling softly, just breathing each other’s warmth. Eddie lifted his head and looked into Richie’s eyes, conveying his adoration through the gentleness of his expression.

His hands moved of their own accord, moving to cup Richie’s face, feeling Richie’s own adoration through his fingertips. They both quieted and leaned in closer, breaths the only noise now shared between them.

‘I love you,’ the caresses of Eddie’s hands said, smoothing over Richie’s cheeks.

‘I love you,’ the tender slope of Richie’s mouth said, sighing contentedly into the silence between them.

« I love you, » Eddie said, voice barely higher than a whisper.

« I love you, » Richie said, lips barely brushing Eddie’s own.

‘I love you,’ they both said, through a soft meeting of lips and sharing of breath.

They kissed for what felt like hours. One breathing out and the other in, sharing their souls through gentle kisses. Finally, Eddie pulled away, burying his face in Richie’s chest and yawning. Richie started laughing again. « Aww, did I wear you out already, Eddie my love? » He pulled Eddie in, cradling him against his chest.

Eddie shifted around until he was snuggled up against Richie comfortably. « Yeah, sure, you’re quite the…, » He yawned again. « Quite the casanova there Rich. »

« All right, sounds like it’s bedtime for little Eddies everywhere. » Richie shifted them both again, laying down amongst the sea of pillows.

Eddie resisted closing his eyes, even though he desperately wanted to, the comfort of being with Richie drowning out the pressures that had so overwhelmed him mere hours ago. « But it looks like you had a whole night planned- movies, snacks, comics. I don’t want to ruin it. »

« Nah, those were just an elaborate excuse to lure you in here. I’m fucking exhausted, Eds. Writing this new comedy special is kicking my ass, I could probably sleep for days wrapped in your arms. » He batted his eyelashes jokingly at Eddie.

Eddie gave him a half-hearted tap. « You can be so weird sometimes, do you know that? »

« I love you too, sweet cheeks. »

« Yeah, yeah, love you, » Eddie murmured into Richie’s chest as he closed his eyes. « Love you forever and ever and ev.... » He didn’t finish his thought as he slipped quickly into an easy sleep. Richie smiled one last time for the night, burying his face into Eddie’s soft hair before drifting off himself.

Both of them dreamed of nothing but happiness and each other, setting aside the past, content with the future laid out before them in each other’s arms.

#reddie #halloween event 2019 #patroclusandachilles

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sunmoonandeddie · 5 years

Text

i think you might be my soulmate

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2,589

summary: Steve finds out a little more about Alexander Pierce.

prompt: ‘I think you might be my soulmate.’

warnings: swearing

a/n: This was written for @whirlybirbs Endgame writing challenge and the theme was nostalgia, so we’re going back to Winter Soldier and that infamous escape scene.

“Rogers.”

He stared out the window, his chin resting on his fist as he watched the clouds passing by.

“Rogers.”

It’d been a long time since he’d gotten to just sit and watch the sky. He could remember when he was young, back before the war and the weight the title of Captain America on his shoulders, sitting by the window with Bucky and picking out shapes in the clouds. It was as close as he could get to being outside when he was sick and despite how much it paled in comparison to actually getting to sit outside on the grass, his best friend had never complained.

“Rogers.”

He’s vaguely aware of someone saying his name, the way you’d be aware of a fly buzzing around your head. It was more of a nuisance than anything else and it wasn’t doing anything to bring him out of his daydream.

“ROGERS!”

The blond super soldier finally looked up as a hand slammed down onto the table in front of him, his blue eyes meeting the beady, bird-like ones of Alexander Pierce. The man who’d he been arguing with for over an hour now. “Pierce.”

Pierce let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples as he paced back in forth in front of Steve. “Why won’t you work with me on this?”

“I am. I’ve told you everything I know,” He said, his mind flashing back to Nicholas Fury breaking into his apartment just the night before. He’d been having a good night before it’d been interrupted by the sound of jazz music coming from his apartment. He’d even somewhat asked out the nurse that lived next door.

The nurse that turned out to be Agent Sharon Carter of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Yet, somehow I don’t believe you,” the older man said, a piercing looking in his eyes as he rested his palms on the cool wood. “Are you really going to tell me that you don’t know why Nick came?”

“Is it so hard to believe that Nick Fury could have a friend?”

Both men looked up just in time to see an absolutely stunning woman walking in the doors. Your hair and makeup was done perfectly, not a single hair was out of place. Your pencil skirt and heels made Steve hesitate on identifying you as an agent. You were most likely an administrative worker, an assistant or something. He knew that if you were higher up, he’d have already met you.

His mouth felt dry as he watched you move to stand beside Pierce, holding out the file that was in your hands to him. “Rogers, this is Y/N L/N,” the man said absentmindedly as he opened up the file and began to flip through it, brows furrowing as he stared down at one page for a remarkably long time. “My best secretary.”

“How kind of you, Alexander,” you drawled, drier than the Sahara Desert and bringing a smile to the blond’s lips as Pierce remained unaware.

“Steve Rogers,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake across the table. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Your hand seemed to slot against his perfectly as your eyes locked onto his. “The pleasure’s all mine.” Your eyes seemed to put him under some kind of spell as he stood there shaking your hand for much longer than what was socially appropriate. “And don’t let him fool you, I’m much more than a secretary.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, and he winced as he realized how it could’ve been taken as a jab.

But your laugh said otherwise, your hand moving to cover your mouth. “They told me you were charming,” you said, before pointedly looking down at your hand, “Even if you are a little rusty.”

Steve yanked his hand away, his cheeks flushing as he realized just how long he’d been holding on your hand. He wiped at his jeans, hoping desperately that you wouldn’t think he was weird or gross because his hands were clammy and when the hell did that happen? “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Your bottom lip was drawn in between your teeth as you eyed him. “It’s sweet.”

“Rogers, are you done flirting with my secretary or can we get back to our discussion?” Pierce asked harshly, though he hadn’t looked up from his papers.

Your eye roll caused Steve’s lips to tug up into a smile, though he tried to hide it before the man could see it. Your gaze turned back to him, flicking back and forth between you two. There was a sudden urgency in your eyes, and when you spotted the mug of coffee on the table, you nodded towards it.

He hesitantly picked it up as he tried to figure out where you were going with this. One second you’d been all smiles and flirty tones and the next you were on edge, as though ready to bolt at any second.

He didn’t even have time to think before you reached forward, knocking the mug from his hand and spilling it over his stealth suit. The hiss of pain that fell from his lips caused Pierce to finally look at you two, a glare etched on his features.

“Y/N, what has gotten into you today?” He demanded, snapping the file shut.

“Captain Rogers, I’m so sorry,” you said, rushing around the table to him. You dabbed at the brownish wet spot on his suit with your sleeve, not looking up at him. “If you come with me, I can get this out in a jiffy.”

Steve was getting more and more suspicious, but the look in your eyes made him nod. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great.”

“What about our discussion?” The other man asked, watching with wide eyes as you began to lead him out of the room.

“I’ll have him back in five minutes,” you reassured your boss, flashing him a bright, disarming smile before the two of you were out the doors and you were taking him down the hall.

It was easy to keep in step with you as you marched down the hall. The smile had dropped from your lips, other than when you nodded at a coworker in greeting. He was yanked into a spare room once you rounded a corner, the door shut and locked.

“Are you really trying to play seven minutes in heaven right now?” He asked, feigning confidence even though his hands were still clammy.

The small smile you granted him made it worth it though. “I didn’t even know you knew what seven minutes in heaven was.”

“I’m not that old.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

“Then what’s Tinder?” At his dumbfounded expression, a triumphant grin spread across your face. But then you seemed to remember the urgency with which you had dragged him out of there. “You can’t trust Pierce.”

He stared at you incredulously, a million thoughts running through his head. “What?”

You were nervously glancing at the door, as though expecting people to break in at any second. “He’s always been secretive, has been since I started working for him two years ago. But lately…” A shiver ran through your spine. “He’s been getting these secret meetings late at night, with people I don’t know and he won’t introduce me to. He tells me to go get coffee for myself at eight fifty-five every night, and when I come back, his office is locked. They’re still there when I leave for the night at ten.”

“Any idea who it might be?”

“I don’t know who they are. They’re not on any record, any meeting schedule I have for that time is blank,” you said, fear rolling off of you in waves.

Steve reached out and took your hand, squeezing it in an attempt to soothe you. “How often do these meetings happen?”

“It used to be twice a month but now…” You swallowed thickly around the lump in your throat. “Now it’s every night.”

“Could you hear anything they were saying?”

You bit your lip as you tried to think back to all those times you’d sat at your desk, hands shaking even though you didn’t know why. The meetings your boss had held had always given you an uneasy feeling and it had only grown as the meetings became more frequent. “Something about Project Insight… And hail.” Your hand rubbed your elbow anxiously. “I don’t know what they were hailing, but I know they said hail.”

His heart was beginning to pound in his chest as he remembered Fury’s message just the night before. His message that S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised and he couldn’t trust anyone. But something in his gut told him he could trust you. You weren’t an agent, you weren’t affiliated with S.H.I.E.L.D. other than the fact that you’d been hired as Alexander Pierce’s secretary.

And something told him that part of the reason you’d been hired was because you were normal. You held no loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. and therefore, most likely wouldn’t report any strange meetings.

Oh, how wrong your boss had been.

A sense of admiration and respect bloomed in his chest as he looked down at you. You had no reason to tell him any of this, other than the fact that you had a good heart and suspected your boss, one of the most powerful men in the world, to be up to very not good things. It took a certain type of bravery that not many had.

“Why are you telling me this?”

You swallowed, but you stared up at him resolutely. “I don’t know what he’s doing, but if it’s something that could hurt others, I have a duty to try my best to prevent it.”

And fuck, that was kind of hot. “Okay,” he said slowly, trying his best to not let his worry show. If he did, it would only make you panic more and he couldn’t have that. “I need you to do exactly what I say, okay?”

You nodded, relief flooding your face as you realized he was going to help you. “Okay.”

“After we go back to the conference room, I want you to go back to your desk as normal. Don’t let anyone think anything is wrong, alright?” Steve’s hands moved to rub your shoulders comfortingly. “If you seem on edge, the people working with Pierce are going to notice and that’ll tip them off.” When he saw the way your hands were trembling, he added, “I’m going to make sure you’re safe. I promise.”

His words seemed to soothe you as you took in a deep breath, nodding your head once. With one final look at him, you opened the door and led him back towards the office. He could see Pierce through the glass doors, his arms crossed over his chest as glared out the window. Your desk was right off to the side of the doors and you shot him one last worried look before taking your seat.

“Everything will be okay,” he said, even though it was a promise he didn’t know he could keep. All Steve Rogers knew in that moment was that he needed to protect you. You, this beautiful, wonderful woman who risked a lot for the good of others.

If he wasn’t currently about to make a run for it, he’d even consider asking you on a date.

When he stepped back into the office, Alexander Pierce’s beady eyes fixed on him immediately, though he quickly looked down at the coffee stain still on his suit. “I thought Y/N was helping you with that,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

“Her Tide stick ran out,” Steve said quickly, grateful that he’d seen Pepper with the little contraption enough times to know what it did. “Really, it’s no problem.”

He didn’t seemed pleased despite his explanation, taking off his glasses and peering at them before putting them back on. “So, about our discussion—”

“I told you, I don’t know anything about Nick Fury or why he was in my apartment,” the blond interrupted, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. “If you don’t mind,” he said, motioning towards the door. “I have plans.”

“You have a date or something, Rogers?”

“Something.”

Pierce laughed, the sound harsh and cold. “Steve Rogers on a date. I’d say it’s about time, but I doubt there’s a lot of people in your age range looking to date, am I right?” He smirked as he took in the man’s appearance. “But you might want to leave the shield at home.”

Steve hoped his grimace came out as more of a smile, and he nodded. “Yeah, right.” He reached out and shook the man’s hand. “I’ll sure I’ll see you soon, Pierce.”

“I’m sure you will, Rogers,” the older man said, his grip a little tighter than what could be considered necessary, though he didn’t notice since he had super soldier strength.

The blond exited the office, nodding at you in acknowledgement. It seemed to be enough as he watched your shoulders relax just a bit. But as he headed towards the elevator, he suddenly became aware of the S.T.R.I.K.E. team filing in with him, lead by Brock Rumlow.

“Before we start, does anyone want to get out?”

Steve wasn’t sure how he got himself into the situations. Bucky always used to say he went looking for trouble, but he’d actually been trying to stay out of it lately and somehow he still ended up in a mess. He didn’t start his day planning on taking out the entire S.T.R.I.K.E. team and then jumping out the window but sometimes things happen.

He had just crashed through the roof of one of the buildings of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters when he heard your voice.

“STEVE!”

His head turned, a rush running through him as he saw you running from the elevator. You still had on your heels and your pencil skirt, yet didn’t seem to care as you ran towards him. “Y/N, what are you doing?!” He asked as he ran to you.

You pressed a set of keys into his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Your bike.” Your cheeks were flushed, your hair in slight disarray as you stood in front of him, and fuck, you looked so beautiful. “Go.” When he didn’t move, you pushed at him, trying to get him to snap out of whatever stupor he was in. “GO!”

“This might be a bad time and might sound weird,” he said quickly as he stared down at you with radiant blue eyes. He was completely captivated by you. Your beauty, your bravery, your desire to do good even if it cost you everything. All of it. “But I think you might be my soulmate.”

“If you get out of here alive, I’ll let you take me on a date,” you said, before pushing at him again. But there was a little bit of mirth in your eyes as your hands pressed against his chest, fully aware that if he didn’t want to move he wouldn’t. Trying to move him was like trying to move a mountain.

A smile spread across his face as he nodded, running towards the exit. But as he neared the exit he turned so he was running backwards. You were still standing in the same place, seemingly not caring that a horde of S.H.I.E.L.D.—or HYDRA, he wasn’t sure if there was any difference now—agents were running towards you, guns up and ready to fire. “I’M HOLDING YOU TO THAT!”

“I’m counting on it!”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x you #steve x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #birbswc2019

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spideychelleforever · 5 years

Text

When Spider-MJ Survived the Snap but Peter Didn’t, p.4

Tony and Scott, it transpired, had messed up the mission to retrieve the Space Stone. Tony led Steve on another mission to get it and more Pym Particles, and though Scott warned them that they may never return, MJ figured if anybody could weasel their way out of this kind of trouble, it was Tony with Steve.

So she and Scott rendezvoused with Bruce, and they returned to the present, with Steve and Tony rejoining them on the spot. Then the other shoe fell when Clint fell to his knees.

All the unhealthy self-doubt and rage in MJ’s body came back with a vengeance. Just when she’d finally, finally come back from the dead, Nat was ripped from them. Another loved one, gone. MJ remembered how many times she saw Nat resort to eating the past five years, the gusto to which she threw herself into the training gym, the countless nights she spent crying at any given time. None of these activities were particularly healthy, but MJ would’ve given anything to see her do it all again if it meant seeing her alive again.

After a few hours, Steve gathered everyone to address them, and affirmed, with tears steaming down his face, that Nat would be the last casualty of Thanos. And they had a job to do.

MJ sucked in sharp breaths, which seemed to hurt even more now that she knew Nat would never give her another loving embrace. The pain wouldn’t go away, but she had to put it away for now, at least. For Nat, and for Peter.

****

The new Infinity Gauntlet was created, and admittedly, nanotechnology was beyond MJ’s scope of abilities, so she left it to Tony, Bruce, and Rocket. And soon, Bruce was volunteering to do the Snap to bring everyone back.

As they prepared, MJ spoke up. “Trillions died, and a lot of them were in places like airplanes and on boats, or there were people who died as a result of pilots or doctors dying. So... I don’t know how it works, but make sure everyone comes back to a safe place. We don’t want people coming back 10,000 feet in the air.”

Bruce nodded, offering MJ a solemn smile. “Everyone comes home.”

Nobody knew what would happen, but everyone took some kind of cover. Tony put a shield around Clint, Scott and Rhodey put on their suits, Thor put himself between Rocket and Bruce, and Steve offered a hand to MJ, and when she accepted, he gently pulled her behind his shield.

Bruce put on the Gauntlet, and howled in pain as the raw power of the Infinity Stones tore into every fiber of his being. But he was finally able to snap his fingers, and then collapse on his back. Everyone raced over, and despite him receiving immediate medical treatment from Tony on his arm, MJ didn’t know how you could treat that kind of damage to his arm.

They heard Scott say something, then suddenly, what must’ve been the loudest noise MJ had ever heard in her life hit them - as well as the explosive debris from the building as the Sanctuary II bombarded them.

Steve only had a moment to react, but he was just able to get his shield between MJ and the direction of the blast. Nobody emerged unscathed from the attack, but it was unlikely MJ would’ve been in the condition she was if Steve hadn’t gotten his shield in front of her.

“Hey, MJ,” she heard a voice call to her. Soon she was being helped to her feet, and she felt the heavy shield sliding off of her. MJ opened her eyes to find Tony, just as battered as she was, but looking relieved to find her nonetheless. “Come on, let’s find Cap and the others.”

“What happened?!” MJ asked, half-deliriously.

Tony didn’t answer at first. “Let’s find the others first. You’ll see.”

They found Cap and Thor, who was already keeping watch on the reason for all this destruction. He was sitting calmly amongst the rubble, looking at the ground pensively, until he spared a look at the small group above him in the wreckage. And MJ’s blood turned to ice as she saw Thanos’s face for the first time in the five years since he’d destroyed her life and killed the boy she was in love with.

She took slow, deliberate breaths as she looked at him. They were too far away to make direct eye contact, and Thanos wasn’t even trying to make eye contact with any of them. He simply looked back at the ground, not reacting to them beyond simple observation.

Thor made it clear what they all knew, that it was a trap, but Tony confirmed what they also knew - they didn’t care. MJ jumped a little as Thor summoned his weapons and received some sort of makeover, and vowed they’d kill Thanos properly this time.

Once the four of them got down to Thanos, MJ’s stomach was screaming because of just how bad things had truly gotten. He now intended to murder all life in the universe to start over. And that-well, that wouldn’t fly.

The fight was on. But quickly, it became apparent that not even the combined might of the four of them wasn’t enough to take Thanos on. MJ observed a variety of factors as to why this was, even when she was trying to give it her all.

One, she mostly specialized in quick, light attacks, something that wouldn’t hold up against someone who was both strong and fast like Thanos. Two, Thor was out of shape and was just coming off a severe drinking problem. Three, Tony was out of practice and probably hadn’t fought in the last five years. Four, she and Cap both may have varying degrees of super strength, but it wasn’t enough against Thanos who clearly had natural super strength built into him. One by one, they fell to the mass murderer.

Steve was knocked out, then Tony was accidentally knocked out by Thor. MJ tried to keep to the perimeter to shoot Thanos from afar, but he responded by throwing his sword at her, and the blunt force was enough to take her out. She only whimpered a little as she was knocked out.

Fifty years later, or it could’ve been fifty seconds for all she knew, she was stirring awake. She heard something loud. Really, really loud. As she came to, she saw it - the burning orange rays of the countless portals, the shine from the various warriors’ armors, the absolute mass of people pouring onto the scene. She recognized the portals as being something of Strange’s work - and sure enough, saw him at the head of the massive group that was arriving.

If he was there, MJ thought, then-then-

MJ’s heart broke all over again because there was Peter Benjamin Parker.

She stared at him, realizing he hadn’t seen her. Words completely failed her. She couldn’t speak.

But soon Steve was leading them in a massive charge, so she didn’t get to do anything. Yet.

MJ fought her way through the hordes of generic aliens that had apparently arrived since she’d been knocked out, and searched and searched for Peter again. But she couldn’t tear herself away from fighting for her life long enough to find him - and even during the fleeting moments she did find him, he was far away and there was too much in the way.

As the battle raged, MJ made her way towards where Scott’s van was, having overheard the comm chatter about getting the Stones back to their proper places in time. And finally, finally, she got close enough to actually see Peter’s brilliant face - albeit as he was knocked out of the sky with the Gauntlet by Thanos’ bombardment.

She heard him yelping for help in that all too wonderful high, squeaky voice, and everything stopped as she ferociously ran to his aid even as the bombardment got too close for comfort. And she threw herself on top of him.

“MJ?!?” Peter screamed over the din of war, but MJ didn’t respond, she only focused on keeping her body on top of his.

But then Carol returned and destroyed Thanos’ ship with an almighty blast, and Peter and MJ were left to watch in awe as it plummeted out of the sky.

Then she turned to him, panting from the shock of nearly being blown up. He looked at her, astonished.

Neither said a word.

“MJ you look.. you look really pretty,” Peter fumbled, smiling nervously at her.

MJ’s mouth fell open.

“Is that so?” She mustered.

“Doctor Strange said it’s been five years, so-So holy cow, does that mean that... that you’re 21 and I’m 17 or something? That’s a-that’s an age gap but I-gosh, you’re really pretty, MJ-“

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” MJ groaned, before grabbing Peter Parker’s face, pulling him in, and kissing him.

Peter’s eyes were wide open as he looked at MJ, her eyes closed and centimeters away from his.

All the pain, the sorrow, the horrors she’d endured the past five years; the uncontrollable tears, the aches throughout her body, the gravitational pull of a black hole that seemed to keep her heart pulled to the bottom of the Earth itself every waking day; all the pining from the years before the day she lost him; all of that was just too much for one skinny little girl from New York.

But kissing him? Putting her lips on his? Smiling as she did it? Grabbing his sweet, handsome face? It felt... mesmerizing. It felt like all that pain, or at least most of it, was being melted away. And she felt amazing. She felt - for the first time in five years - happy again. And it made her cry.

And she pulled away from him, looking unsure at first, until she realized what she’d just did, and smiled as the warm, unfamiliar wave of something like pleasure enveloped her. It felt... it felt really good, even as tears streamed down her face.

“You kissed me,” Peter said in disbelief.

MJ nodded, sniffling. “Look, I-I’ve really missed you the last five years and-and I wanted to tell you how I feel, because Thanos is trying to kill us all this time and I’d rather make out with you in person than as spirits in heaven or whatever.”

“That’s-that’s terrifying, but great,” Peter grinned breathlessly.

MJ smiled at Peter, before pulling out her phone from her suit’s pockets - because OF COURSE that survived Thanos’ blast. “I... I hope you don’t mind but this picture of us-this selfie-I’ve had it as my lock screen for like, forever.”

Peter looked and had to giggle a little. “Oh god. That picture! I almost-oh man. It’s so goofy, but I actually like it. Truly.”

MJ was beaming at Peter, still in disbelief about who she was talking to again. She scoffed a little. “I actually really like you.”

Peter turned his gaze back to her. “I really like you, too.”

They grinned at each other like the lovesick idiots they were, and went in for another kiss. And then a third, much longer, better one.

Then reality returned, and MJ helped escort Carol to the van, but not before pecking Peter on the lips one more time (a FOURTH kiss, mind you).

Tagging: my crush @you-guys--are-losers @spiderman-homecomeme @theslytherinterran @spideychelle @spideyxchelle @spideychelle-romanogers @peterjonesparker @suplosers @here-be-spideychelle @acastleintheair @lovely-iris-west-allen @acastleintheair @wandrlust-stark @miranduh1 @sodafizzyart

#avengers endgame #avengers: endgame #endgame #spideychelle #michelle jones #zendaya #tom holland #mj #peter parker #tomdaya #spideychelle headcanon #michelle #zendaya coleman #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones x peter parker #far from home #when spider mj survived the snap but peter didn’t

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insideoutstory · 4 years

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Inside Out → Chapter Fifteen

summary: The party goes looking for the gate. But things don’t go the way they’d hoped. word count: 6k warnings: N/A

[ masterlist ] [ FF.net ]

If Christine lived through this, she was seriously considering trying out for cross country. She’d gotten enough training in, that was for sure, with all the aimless wandering around Hawkins. She was so tired, she wasn’t even sure if she was tired anymore.

After their doomsday meeting, the party had split up to change and grab supplies. What the boys had told their mothers, she had no idea. If they’d even told them anything before sneaking out. Christine had taken the Dustin-route of preparation. She just filled a backpack with a few water bottles and granola bars in case they needed to hike through dinner. Also a hammer from the garage, just in case. She’d changed into pants, made sure to wear her boots this time instead of her tennis shoes, and put on a warmer sweatshirt. Despite her best efforts, Eleven still refused to change out of her pretty pink dress.

Once they’d reconvened, they set out for Mirkwood again. They’d learned their lesson from last time. Not enough not to go, of course, but enough to go without their bikes. It would take them longer to get there, but save them time in the long run. They’d spent so much energy slipping and sliding on their last hike, untangling their wheels and handlebars from brambles. And it wasn’t like they could ride their bikes through the trees anyway.

“Besides,” Dustin had pointed out at Lucas’s impatient groaning, “we’re going to find an interdimensional portal with massive electromagnetic force. Bikes are metal, dude. Get them close enough to a magnetic wormhole and—whoosh! Bye-bye bicycle.”

“Just shut the hell up and walk,” Lucas had grumbled.

The two of them had taken the lead as navigators. They kept their compasses out in front of them, cross checking occasionally to make sure they were still heading in the correct direction. Mike and Eleven trailed behind them, and Christine stayed at the back, unable to contribute much after her magnet presentation.

There was less chit chat today than there had been the first time around. Christine couldn’t be sure if that was because everyone was more tired or more nervous. She certainly was the latter. It was a supposed portal to another dimension—a realm of monsters and death for crying out loud. And they were armed with, what? A super-powered twelve-year-old and a hammer? She was sincerely regretting not grabbing her father’s shotgun instead.

Christine wasn’t sure where they were headed, or what they’d actually be able to do when they got there. For now, the only thing keeping her sane was doing a head count every sixty seconds.

One kid, two kids, three kids, four kids. One, two, three, four. One, two, three four.

From Mirkwood, they trekked through the woods, drifting deeper than they had last time. They were all on high alert, waiting for another twig to snap, for the low, growling, clicking sound to advance on them from the shadows of the trees. But nothing happened.

The trees stayed close together, until the five of them were spilling out onto a set of train tracks that wound through the forest. Christine had been dead set against it. She was not going to let them get distracted on the tracks and send five more bodies to the Hawkins Mortuary. But Dustin had assured her that the Hawkins Railway had been shut since for about fifty years. There hadn’t been a train on these tracks since FDR was president. After several minutes of the boys calling her chicken, Christine had relented. Only because it was easier to walk on the tracks than through thorn bushes.

Christine had actively not worn a watch. She did not want to look down and despair about how long they’d walked without finding anything. She did not want to look down and realize it had been twenty minutes when it felt like four hours. And telling the boys it was getting late was not going to make them turn around. So what was the point?

At some point, after what felt like a very long time, Eleven stopped walking.

“Hey,” Christine said, suddenly on high alert. “You okay, El?”

Eleven shook her head, but Mike sighed beside her. “She said she’s tired.”

“Yeah, join the club.”

Christine huffed, watching Dustin and Lucas’s backs grow smaller as they forged ahead. There was no stopping them. That was for sure. So she looked down on Eleven with a weary smile.

“You want a piggyback ride?”

“A…what?”

“Come on.” She passed her backpack to Mike. Then she kneeled down, helping Eleven put her arms around her neck and hoisting her up onto her back. “Oof! Okay. See? I can’t carry the magnetic force field of the Earth, but I can carry you.”

Mike snorted next to her. “Wow. That was bad.”

“Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it.”

They started off down the tracks again. Every now and then, Christine had to hoist Eleven a little higher, making her squeal. Christine would ask if she was alright. Eleven would sniffle, wipe her face, and nod into her shoulder. It was so cold, Christine thought nothing of it.

“Hey, Chrissy?” Mike asked as they walked on. “Thanks for coming with us.”

“Of course. Mike, I know how important this is. And I wouldn’t want you guys out here alone.”

He nodded, his eyes trained on the ground. “That was pretty cool what you did before with the magnet. It really helped that you knew that.”

“I guess,” said Christine. “But Dustin knew what he was talking about. I’m sure he would have gotten you guys there eventually.”

“Maybe. But you also helped hide Eleven, and made us all listen when we didn’t believe you about her powers. So thanks.”

“Um…you’re welcome,” she said, unable to mask her surprise. “Thanks for…saying thanks, I guess.”

Mike nodded at the dirt. It looked like he still had more to say, but being genuine was apparently very hard for him. Christine did her best not to push him.

“I’m sorry, too. I know that I keep calling you annoying, and telling you that we don’t need your help. But the truth is…it’s kind of nice to have someone to talk to about crazy stuff like this. You know, someone older. Someone outside of the party.”

“Ouch,” Christine said with a smirk. “We’re hunting down a portal to another dimension and I’m still not part of the party?”

That made him smile.

“We’ll discuss it. I’ll let you know when the party decides.”

“No rush. We’re just trying to travel out of the earthly plane and into the shadow realm to rescue Will from the Demogorgon. Just let me know by Sunday so I can be ready for the next campaign.”

“Remember when you first moved here?” he asked. “You were helping Nancy with some dumb English project while Lucas, Will and I were planning in the basement.”

“Ugh, I do remember that project. It was on Huckleberry Finn. I hated that book. I was so glad when you guys started screaming and broke up our study session.”

“We weren’t screaming. It was a battle cry. We were going to war to save the Paakliah people from the wrath of their warlock overlord.”

“Right,” said Christine, rolling her eyes. “Well from upstairs it just sounded like a bunch of screaming. Nancy dropped everything because she thought one of you had broken a leg or something.”

“You guys were pretty cool about it,” Mike said appreciatively. “I really thought Nancy was gonna kick us out to the backyard, but you just picked up a tube of wrapping paper and started sword fighting with Lucas. He had no idea what to do. It was awesome!”

“Well, you can’t wage a war without a pair of warlock bodyguards to duel. So you’re welcome. And—God, Nancy was mortified at first. She really thought I was gonna take one look at you guys and bolt, make her do the rest of the project by herself. That feels like so long ago.”

Christine chuckled at the memory. They all seemed too small, even her and Nancy. She’d still been in middle school then, the boys in elementary school. All of them had been wild and energetic, for the most part carefree. She shuddered to think how she’d swapped a tube of wrapping paper for a hammer.

“Are you still not talking to Nancy?”

“Yeah. I mean—…” The question took her off guard, and she glared at Mike affronted. “No. I’m…Why do you know that I’m not talking to Nancy?”

“I heard her talking to my mom about it,” he said with a shrug. “She said you guys had a fight and she was mad at you, and then she did something stupid so you were even more mad at her. She was crying and everything. She told Mom she was really scared, and then that you guys were blaming each other for Barb going missing.”

“Great. Well…just do me a favor and unhear all of that, okay?”

“It’s stupid,” he said, glaring at her. “You know it’s not Nancy’s fault if Barb’s gone. And it’s not yours either. If she’s gone like Will is, then we can get her back.”

“It’s not that simple, Mike,” Christine groaned. “Nancy and I have both done a lot of stupid stuff lately.”

“Because you both like Steve Harrington?”

“Just shut up and walk, Mike.”

“Fine. But it’s dumb that you guys are fighting over some lame douchebag. There’s way more important things happening. Like, life or death things. And Nancy really misses you. Plus, she’s way less annoying when you’re being friends. Fighting’s making her cranky.”

He hiked Christine’s backpack up onto his shoulders and marched ahead. Christine tried to grumble her curse words quiet enough that Eleven couldn’t hear, and stomped on after him.

The train tracks curved to brush along the edge of the woods, and the five of them walked out into a clearing. It was some kind of junk yard. Abandoned cars and rusty barrels were strewn across the field. Even an old transport bus sat on the edge of the hill. It would have been a killer place for parties, but there wasn’t a single red Solo cup on the ground. They must have been too far out for even rebellious teens to walk.

Dustin came to a stop in front of the group, looking around in confusion. “Oh, no.”

“Oh no?” Lucas repeated in annoyance. “What’s oh no?”

“We’re headed back home.”

“What?!”

“Are you sure?” asked Mike.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Setting sun right there. We looped back around.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Christine sighed. She set Eleven back on the ground, stretching her aching arms. “It’s the sun, Dustin! How are we only noticing this now?”

“Well it’s darker in the woods! If it’s so obvious, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’ve been carrying Eleven, and you two idiots said you had navigation under control!”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” snapped Lucas.

“What?” Dustin demanded. “Why is this all on me?”

“Because you’re the compass genius!”

Dustin sighed, spinning on the spot and looking at his compass again. “What do yours say?”

“North,” Lucas and Mike replied in unison.

“This makes no damn sense,” Dustin groaned. “Any ideas, Chrissy?”

He passed off the compass, allowing her to look at it as well. But the needle was pointing the way they’d been headed. Without seeing the magnetic field, there was no way to tell where the interference was coming from.

“I don’t know,” she said, spinning it in her hands. “I mean, it could be a third magnet? Layering three magnetic fields? But we would’ve had to walk a perfect circle right around it.”

“So it’s in the woods?” Lucas asked.

“Maybe. Still, for the needle to point at neither the whole time…that wouldn’t happen if they were two fixed points.”

“So maybe the gate moves?” Mike suggested.

“I don’t think so,” said Dustin. “It’s a tear in time and space. Not exactly portable.”

“Okay, so…maybe something here is screwing with the compasses. You know, that’s how we ended up in the junk yard.”

“It’s not gonna be just a bad car battery,” said Christine. “To cause miles of interference like that, it’d have to be like a super magnet.”

“It’s not a magnet.”

Lucas was glaring back at the path. Eleven was still standing exactly where Christine had put her down, avoiding all their eyes.

“Lucas, knock it off,” Christine sighed.

“No! She’s been acting weirder than normal! If she can slam doors with her mind, she can definitely screw up a compass.”

“Why would she do that?” asked Mike.

“Because she’s trying to sabotage our mission. Because she’s a traitor!”

“Woah, okay! Hold on, boys.” Christine planted herself between Lucas and Eleven as he tried to advance on her. “Look, we’re all tired. We’re all desperate. Why don’t we just sit down for a minute and…?”

“Will doesn’t have a minute!” Lucas yelled. He tried to walk around her, only for Christine to grab his arm. It didn’t stop him from snarling at Eleven. “You did it, didn’t you? You don’t want us to reach the gate! You don’t want us to find Will!”

“Lucas, come on, seriously,” Mike shouted. “Just leave her alone!”

“Admit it. Admit it!”

He broke out of Christine’s grip, running at Eleven. She jumped back in terror, but not before he could grab her wrist. He held her arm up to the light. In the dying light, dark blood was shining on her jacket sleeve.

“Fresh blood,” he spat, throwing her arm back at her. “I knew it!”

“Lucas, come on!” Mike pleaded.

“I saw her wiping her nose on the tracks! She was using her powers!”

“Lucas, it’s just cold,” Christine reasoned. “We’ve been walking for miles…”

“No! She was using her powers, and you and Mike are too stupid to see it because you like her! You think she’s cute and innocent, but all she is is a liar!”

“Bull,” shouted Mike. “That’s probably old blood. Right, El?”

But Eleven did not answer.

Mike squinted at her, fear rising in his voice. “Right, El?”

“It’s…not…It’s not safe…”

Eleven was sniffling again. But it was not because she was using her powers, and it was not because of the cold. Christine could already see the water welling in her eyes. She was moments away from bursting into tears.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Christine said instinctively. She dropped down next to Eleven, brushing the hair out of her face. “I know it’s scary.”

“See?” Lucas demanded. “She just admitted it, and all you two care about is making sure that she’s okay! But what about Will? She’s leading us around in circles and Will’s out there running for his life!”

“And we’re gonna find him!” yelled Mike. “El’s just scared! We—We all are! Right, Dustin?”

Dustin, however, seemed to know better than to answer.

“It doesn’t matter how scared she is,” said Lucas. “She lied! What did I tell you? She’s been playing us from the beginning!”

“That’s not true! She helped us find Will!”

“Find Will. Find Will? Where is he then? Huh? I don’t see him!”

“Yeah, you know what I mean.”

“No, I actually don’t. Just think about it, Mike! She could’ve just told us where the Upside Down was right away, but she didn’t. She just made us run around like headless chickens!”

“Alright, calm down,” Dustin said, finally pushing between them.

“No!”

Lucas smacked Dustin’s arm away, storming toward Eleven again. Christine immediately stepped in front of her.

“She used us!” he yelled. “All of us! She helped just enough so she could get what she wants! Food and a bed! She’s like a stray dog!”

“HEY!” Christine shouted, but Mike was beating her to it.

“Screw you, Lucas!”

“No, screw you, Mike! You’re blind—both of you! Christine’s just lonely cause she’s fighting with Nancy, and you’re blind because you like that a girl’s not grossed out by you. But wake up, man! Wake the hell up!”

“I SAID HEY!”

The boys stopped as Christine rose to her feet again. And now, she was shaking with fury.

“Both of you are going to shut up right now. No one speaks, no one leaves until we all calm the fuck down. We’re not gonna get anywhere throwing bullshit insults like this. We will figure out where Will is…”

“We don’t have to figure it out,” Lucas snapped, jabbing a finger at Eleven. “She knows where Will is. And now she’s letting him die in the Upside Down.”

“Lucas, I said stop.”

But Lucas would not.

“For all we know, it’s her fault!”

“Shut up!” Mike screamed.

“We’re looking for some stupid monster, but did you ever stop to think that maybe she’s the monster?”

“I said shut up!”

Mike leapt forward, grabbing Lucas around the neck and attempting to throw him to the ground. Lucas was faster, grabbing Mike in the same way and countering the throw with a harsh tug of his own. They wrestled and screamed, toppling over and still attempting to fight.

Everyone was screaming. Christine ran forward with Dustin, trying to pry them apart.

“Stop!”

“Knock it off, you idiots!”

“Boys—Mike, just stop!”

“Stop it!”

“Mike, get off!”

“Stop it!”

“Dustin! A little help, please!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Before Christine knew what was happening, Lucas was flying out of her hands. His body shot into the air. It was like he was being propelled by an invisible force strong enough to toss him like a rag doll. He hit the ground hard, sliding through the dead grass and colliding with a totaled car.

Dustin and Mike ran forward. Christine stayed where she was, too shocked to move. Then she turned around to gape at Eleven. Her nose was bleeding again, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She looked horrified already, the reality of what she’d done beginning to sink in. But Christine couldn’t scold her. Couldn’t comfort her or yell. She felt paralyzed in the grass. For the first time, she actually felt afraid.

“Why would you do that?” Mike demanded. He seemed to have figured out what had happened. He looked up from Lucas’s limp body, glaring at Eleven the same way he had at the quarry. “What’s wrong with you? What is wrong with you?”

“Mike…” Eleven whimpered.

It was enough for Christine to push her fear aside. She started toward Eleven, ready to…was she going to comfort her? She had no idea. But Eleven needed to calm down. If bodies started flying when she got upset, the best thing Christine could do was keep the situation under control. But then Dustin called out to her.

“Christine! Chrissy, he’s—he’s not getting up! W-What do we do if he doesn’t get up?”

She froze, torn at Eleven’s tearful face and Dustin’s broken voice.

“Okay. Just—Just hold on, El.” Christine held up a hand and backed toward Lucas’s body. “Eleven, just breathe, okay?”

“Christine!”

She turned, and ran to Dustin’s side. She slid the last few feet on her knees, despite the pain. Lucas was still lying unconscious against the car. He didn’t show the slightest response to Mike’s voice, or the way Dustin was shaking him. Christine had to beat his hands back.

“Stop. Stop, Dustin! If he’s hurt, you could just make it worse. Just back up.”

The boys followed her instructions immediately, which just proved how scared they must’ve been. Christine braved a straight face. She didn’t want to scare them more by admitting she had no idea what she was doing.

She looked over Lucas head to toe. His limbs looked normal and he didn’t appear to be bleeding, which was good. Unless all the bleeding was internal, in which case it was very bad. She stroked his hair, trying to ease him into consciousness rather than shout. Unfortunately, that wasn’t working either.

“Lucas? Come on, bud. Can you hear me? Lucas?”

“Do we need to give him mouth to mouth?” Dustin asked behind her.

“What—no!”

“Fine! If you don’t want to do it, I will. Move!”

“Dustin, stop! He’s breathing! We just need him to wake up.”

“Oh…”

Christine was ready to break out a water bottle and pour it over his head. But Lucas stirred before she could ask Mike to hand over her bag.

“Lucas? Oh thank, God.”

She sagged back onto her butt, giving the boys more room to push forward.

“Lucas, you okay?” asked Mike with a relieved smile.

Lucas did not respond.

“Lucas, how many fingers am I holding up?” asked Dustin. He waved his hand in front of Lucas’s face. “Lucas, how many fingers?”

Again, Lucas did not respond.

“Let me see your head,” Mike offered, reaching out.

Lucas smacked his hand out of the air faster than a rattlesnake.

“Don’t touch me!” He struggled to his feet, ignoring his friends’ concern and shoving Mike again for good measure. “Get off me!”

He pushed his way past the group and marched toward the woods. Christine could hear the fear in his voice. She’d only seen him this upset at the quarry, when his best friend’s body was right before his eyes. It was why she grabbed Mike before he could go after him.

“Mike, stop,” she said softly. “Just let him go.”

“But—But what if he’s hurt?”

“Man, just let him go,” Dustin agreed.

They watched as Lucas disappeared into the trees. Christine felt sick to do it, but running after him would only make him more upset. Lucas would be alright, she tried to convince herself. He had his compass. And she knew from personal experience how sobering rage could be. So long as nothing else bad happened…

“Where’s El?”

Mike’s voice echoed around the yard without response. Christine whipped around, staring at the bus, which Eleven had been standing next to less than a minute ago. Now she wasn’t. Not next to the bus or the cars or the trees. She wasn’t anywhere.

“Eleven!” Christine screamed, looking around at the tree line. “Eleven, it’s okay!”

“El?” Mike called, and Dustin joined in. “El! Eleven! Eleven? El!”

They must’ve screamed for ten minutes. They checked inside every car, behind every bush, searched the forest ten feet deep in all directions. But there was no blonde wig or pink dress in sight.

Christine bit her lip hard. She’d been trying to bottle it all up, trying to be the adult. But it was exhausting.

“FUCK!”

She screamed, and it echoed around the sky. Christine kicked the closest rock, which collided with the closest wreck. The impact chipped the windshield, and Christine watched the crack spider its way across the length of the glass.

Dustin was at her side in an instant.

“We’ll find her,” he assured her. “Christine, we’ll find El. We’ll help you look.”

“No.” Christine felt her body shaking, but her voice was firm. “No, I want the both of you to go home right now.”

“No,” Mike argued. “El is out there alone! And so is Will!”

“And you’re not gonna find them in the dark. You two are going home. Now. Before the sun goes down, and before your parents start asking questions. I will look for Eleven, and I will call you if I find her.”

She did not give them room to argue. She seized her backpack from Mike, taking out both her hammer and a flashlight. Then she walked back into the forest, following the train tracks the way they’d came.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. She’d been so worried about Eleven and Lucas that she hadn’t thought twice about marching into the woods alone. It wasn’t until she’d lost sight of the junkyard, after she’d followed the train tracks and trekked back into the brush, that her personal safety occurred to her. It was getting dark. Even without leaves, the trees blocked out the fading light overhead. Unlike the boys, she didn’t have a compass, and she only had a vague idea where she was going. But at a guess, she wasn’t far from Mirkwood—where they’d heard the first twig snap.

The thought made her tighten her hand around her hammer.

Occasionally she’d call out for Eleven. Most times, she tried to make as little noise as possible. The darker it got, the more aware she was of the sound of the wind. Trees rustled in the breeze. Twigs snapped. A few times she thought she heard voices in the distance. She’d called for Eleven—and the sound had immediately stopped. After she imagined someone calling her name, she decided it was safest to stop looking and find the road.

How she got there was as much a mystery as it was a miracle. But she nearly fell to the pavement with relief. She would have sprinted the last leg home if she weren’t so tired. Luckily, someone else had thought ahead.

“Finally,” said Dustin, perched on his bike where the wilderness gave way to the suburbs. His headlight blinded her like an interrogation lamp as she approached. “If you were gone another twenty minutes I was gonna call the cops.”

“I told you to go home, Dustin.”

“I did. Where do you think I got the bike?”

“And you came back here alone? To the place Will went missing? What if something had happened, Dust? Don’t be an idiot.”

“That’s rich, coming from the girl who was just walking alone for over an hour. Now do you want a ride home or not?”

Christine was hesitant. She was a lot bigger than Eleven, and she hated to put the burden on Dustin. But he was already turning the bike around, patting his back wheel. And her legs were killing her. So she stowed the hammer and flashlight in her bag, and climbed onto the bike.

To his credit, Dustin did a better job keeping them steady than she thought he would. It was only a block or two before they were sailing smoothly. So long as he didn’t brake too hard, they had it under control.

“Did you find anything?” he asked her as they cruised down the street.

“Does it look like I found anything?”

“Cranky.”

“What about you? Anything at Mike’s house?”

“Nah. He thought El might hide in the basement, but there’s nothing there.”

“Not really surprising,” said Christine, and Dustin nodded. The way Mike had yelled at her, Eleven wasn’t likely to look for safety in his basement. “What about Lucas? Have you heard from him?”

“No. But he’s definitely home. I went passed his house and threw stuff at his window until he closed the blinds. So he’s alive.”

“That’s a relief.”

They leaned into a curve as Dustin made a sharp turn. She’d just recovered when he threw her for another loop.

“Why aren’t you mad at Eleven?”

“Dustin…”

“I mean, I kind of get it. I’m still worried about her too. But she threw Lucas with her mind. That’s not cool.”

“I don’t think she did it on purpose, Dust. El was scared, and all of us were screaming. She just wanted it to stop. I think when she gets overwhelmed, her powers probably act up.”

“Like Jean Gray,” Dustin supplied.

“Sure. Like Jean Gray,” Christine agreed. “And then she thought we’d be mad at her, so she ran. I just hope she’s okay.”

“Still. Lucas had a point, you know? She lied. Will needs us, and we still don’t know where the gate is. If Eleven doesn’t come back, who knows if we ever will?”

“Dustin, if anyone can find that gate, I know it’s you.”

He shrugged his shoulders, not all that comforted by the thought. Christine gripped his jacket a little tighter, trying to think of a way to explain it.

“Think of it like this,” she tried. “Say there were two sets of train tracks. On one track, one person’s tied up, and on the other there are four. You can’t move any of them. You can control where the train goes, but it has to follow the tracks. What do you do?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin said quietly. “Why can’t I save them?”

“You don’t have enough time. There’s no wrong answer, bud. It’s just a hypothetical.”

“Okay, well…the one I guess. Cause you save more people.”

“Alright. Now imagine the same thing, but the four people are me, Will, Mike, and Lucas. What do you do?”

“Who’s on the other track?”

“You don’t know. It’s a stranger.”

Dustin was quiet for a few blocks. “Is this a trick question? It feels like a trick question.”

“It’s not a trick question,” said Christine. “But it’s hard. That’s what Eleven was trying to decide this afternoon. She wanted to protect the four friends she has, because sometimes that’s scarier than losing someone you don’t know.”

“I guess. I didn’t think about it like that.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the ride. Christine let Dustin mull over the situation, and kept her eyes on the streets. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of pink hiding behind one of the houses. It was a long shot, but she felt like that was all she had for now. There was only one other place Eleven might be hiding, and Christine couldn’t check there just yet.

She hopped off the bike as Dustin leveled with his driveway, allowing him to shoot up and park his bike next to the garage.

“Will you come talk to Lucas with me tomorrow?” he asked her. “You’re better at explaining the metaphor than I am.”

“I don’t know. I think I’m just gonna stay home. In case…you know who comes back.”

“But what am I supposed to say to Mike and Lucas? What if they won’t talk to each other?”

“They will, Dust. They just need time to cool off. But they’re best friends. If anyone can make them see reason, it’s you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Dustin huffed, tugging on his backpack straps. “Whatever. I probably shouldn’t be taking advice from you about it anyway.”

“Excuse me?” Christine chuckled in surprise and folded her arms. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Lucas and Mike are fighting about Eleven just like you and Nancy are fighting over Steve.”

She must have gaped at him for a solid ten seconds.

“No,” she managed to squeak through the shock. “Dustin, no! That is—That is so not the same thing!”

“Um, yeah it is.”

“No, it is definitely not!”

“Let’s think,” he said, stroking his chin. “Two really close friends get pushed apart because some cute person comes between them. One of the friends gets hurt, and gets mad cause the other friend doesn’t care. How is that not the same thing?”

“Okay, well—for one—Steve didn’t throw me across a junkyard with his mind.”

“No. He just made you cry because he used you to get to Nancy.”

Christine shut her mouth. It felt better than standing there with her jaw dropped as she stared at her miniscule fetus of a neighbor, standing there so sure and so confident and so…right. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Just go inside, Dustin.”

She tried to walk back to her house, only for Dustin to grab her hand.

“Hey,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about what Lucas said too. About you being lonely and obsessing over Eleven. That was dumb. But if Lucas and Mike are gonna make up, I think you and Nancy should try too. It’s easier when everyone’s being friends.”

“I know it’s easier,” she said wearily. “It’s just not easy to make them that way.”

“Okay.” Dustin nodded, playing with his backpack again. “Do you wanna stay over? I can ask mom to drive us to the video store.”

And just like that, he drew another smile out of her.

“Nah, not tonight, Dusty. Like I said. I’m gonna stay home to be safe.”

“Alright. If you need anything…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Christine assured him. She rubbed his cap on top of his curls. “Get going. Your mom’s probably gonna kill you.”

Dustin scurried inside at her suggestion. The front door slammed behind him, but Christine could still hear Claudia’s worried shouts. She smiled, backing off the lawn and sneaking around to her own back door.

It was locked. Not that that meant anything. Christine knocked halfheartedly—two slow, then three quick. There was no response. She tried again, just in case, but got the same result. After a few minutes of waiting, she grabbed her spare key and let herself in.

Everything was exactly where she’d left it. Her unmade bed, the empty pillow fort, the abandoned waffle plates and ruined magazine. The stereo was off, and though she checked her freezer, there were still the same amount of Eggos.

“Eleven?” she called hopelessly. “If you’re here, you…you can come out. I’m not mad. No one is. It’s okay.”

She continued to stand in the dark, knowing she wouldn’t get a response.

At some point, her exhaustion must have caught up to her. She didn’t bother making dinner. She didn’t even bother turning on the lights. She just changed into her pajamas and grabbed her dwindling box of Cheerios. However, she hesitated at the back door.

Habit told her to lock it. She was a teenage girl home alone in a town where two people were missing, mysterious scientists were hunting children, and interdimensional horrors were running loose. But a lock wouldn’t stop a mad scientist, and it wouldn’t stop a Demogorgon. The only people it might stop were the boys, or a scared little girl looking for a place to sleep after running away.

Christine dropped the cereal in her room. In the kitchen, she popped one waffle in the toaster, then placed it on a plate. She left it on the back stoop, looking longingly at the shadows outside. The waffle would get cold fast, she knew. But it wasn’t about whether or not Eleven would eat it. She just wanted to send a sign. It was still safe inside. It was okay to come home.

Without much debate, she left the porch light on. And when she went to bed, she left the door unlocked.

#ocappreciation #fyeahstrangerthingsocs #stranger things oc #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #chapters #chapter 15

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phantasticworks · 5 years

Text

Special Delivery

I wrote this based on a prompt I found on @dailyau which I thought was really cute. I’m not sure I did the prompt justice as I’ve been in a bit of a writing slump but here it is!

read on ao3

Words: 7.6k

Description: Dan Howell definitely did not order this package, but the man who did is definitely very interesting. And the object he’s ordered is also... interesting.

Warnings: Nothing really, there’s one masturbation scene and references to sex toys but nothing explicit!

If there was one thing Dan could complain about, it was the fact that his Amazon deliveries always came at an ungodly time of morning. It wasn’t like he slept that late, but on the days that he did, it always seemed like those were the very days a package was delivered. And he couldn’t just sleep through it; the way the apartment complex handled package delivery forced him to get out of bed when he heard the buzzing to let the delivery guy come upstairs. It was totally inconvenient of course, but for some reason Dan didn’t feel that he should just stop online shopping. Where else was he meant to get cool video game character collectibles and anime merch?

Despite his total aversion to waking early, it was unavoidable on this particular Thursday, because at some ungodly hour of the morning, the buzzer goes off. He groans into his pillow, cursing every god and goddess he can think of, then realizing that maybe he should be asking them to curse the delivery guy instead. Rather than wallow in his misery and let the incessant buzzing continue, he shoves himself out from under his duvet and goes to the front door where the intercom was located.

“Yeah?” He says, putting as much malice and hatred into the one syllable word. It was early, too early for kindness and things like manners.

“Er- I have a package?” The voice says, sounding timid. Dan figures it’s probably someone new, as he generally didn’t have people who were this afraid in the face of his anger.

“Alright,” Dan smashes the button to allow him inside before moving over to the kitchen. If he was already awake he might as well make some coffee and get his day started.

As he goes through the motions of turning the kettle on, he begins pondering which of his purchases was meant to arrive today. The more he thought of it, however, the more confused he was. He didn’t remember ordering anything that was meant to get here this soon. The last thing he had ordered was a cool jacket he found online, and he had only ordered that two days ago. It definitely hadn’t been long enough for it to arrive yet.

He sighs and just opts to wait and see what it is. Sometimes when he was lonely and drinking by himself he would order things and had real no recollection of them until they arrived, so it was like giving himself a little surprise every time. He hadn’t had one of his pity solo drinking parties recently, though, so again, he’s quite puzzled.

As he pours his coffee into the Hello Kitty mug (it held more liquid, okay?) there was a knock at the door, indicating the surprise package was finally there. He tries not to be too annoyed with the delivery guy, as he was just doing his job, but it was difficult not to be as it was because of him that Dan was up at such an ungodly hour. After checking the time, he notices that it’s actually already nine; so maybe it’s not like super early, but it was early for him.

“Sign here,” the delivery man says the second Dan opens the door. Dan quirks an eyebrow but shrugs and takes the clipboard, signing his name neatly on the line. “Thanks, here you go.” The man seems to shrink in on himself as he hands the box to Dan, and suddenly he feels a little guilty for being sort of hateful to him when he buzzed him in. Before he gets the chance to apologize, however, the man is gone, down the hall and out of sight.

“Okay…” Dan mutters to himself as he closes the door and carries the package to the kitchen. He really didn’t know what was in this, and it was much too small to be the jacket he had ordered, but he assumed it was probably yet another one of those dumb things he’d ordered on a whim without properly thinking it through.

Taking a knife from the drawer beside his sink, he slices across the top of the box, barely glancing at the label in his hurry to get it open. After successfully opening it without any damage to himself, he flips it over, shaking the contents out. It’s only after he flips it that he thinks of the possible repercussions of this, but luckily, what falls out sounds very plasticky.

Now, Dan was certain he’d ordered his fair share of useless things in his life, but he was pretty certain he would remember ordering a new dildo.

Okay, so maybe that’s not exactly what this is.

After a little closer inspection, Dan realizes that although it is definitely phallic-shaped, it’s also got a very distinctive pickle-shape to it. So, unless he was just projecting his desire to get laid on this object, it was decidedly not a sex toy. That in no way lessens his apprehension of the object, however. If anything, it just makes him warier.

Slowly, as if moving too quickly would bring him some sort of pain, he slowly picks up the object to inspect it. It was definitely nothing he’d ever seen in his life, that was for sure. After flipping it over a few times, he realizes there’s little holes on one side, indicating that it should make some sort of sound. This just makes him even more curious, so naturally when he finds a little battery compartment with a slip of plastic to pull out, he does it almost immediately.

Now, when he presses the button on the side, he’s definitely not expecting much. It’s a pickle, he’s decided, so really all he expects is maybe a Rick and Morty reference. The ungodly sound that leaves the phallic-shaped device is absolutely not that, however, so when it begins yodeling, he drops it immediately, almost flinging it to the floor in his haste to get away from it.

“What the absolute fuck,” he breathes, staring down at it with wide eyes. It’s nearly vibrating on the floor as it continues making the sound, and if he was less shocked, he’d probably have stomped on it to destroy it.

Now, fully deducing that he had not been the one to order this cursed object, he quickly grabs the box from the counter and flips it over, reading the name on the label.

Phil Lester

Well, whoever Phil Lester was could probably be considered a creepy fucker in Dan’s book, just from this one object. After realizing that the pickle has finally gone silent, Dan debates what he should do. He glances down at the label on the box again, and suddenly the mix up makes sense. On the second line of the recipient address, at the end of the line, is the numbers 906. Dan’s apartment was 609. That explains the mix up, at least on the delivery man’s part.

Sighing loudly, Dan debates what he should do. Would it be acceptable to call the delivery service and just demand they come retrieve it and deliver it to the proper person themselves? Or would it be easier on everyone if he just sucked it up and went up a couple floors to deliver the package himself?

After several moments of heavy debate, he groans before stomping to his bedroom to put some proper clothes on. If he was going to be a good person and deliver the damn thing, he was going to have to put some actual clothes on first. It was only as he was tugging on a pair of sweatpants that he realizes he answered the door in just his boxers earlier. Maybe that explains some of the awkwardness of the delivery man, actually.

After tugging on a white long-sleeved tee, he grabs his phone and the box, sticking the pickle back in with as much distaste as he can. It really was such an offending object. He honestly didn’t know who this Phil Lester guy was, but he imagined he’d be meeting a shifty fifty-year-old pervert in about five minutes, if he were to guess.

The journey up to the ninth floor of his building is uneventful, as most people are probably at work right now, on a Thursday morning, so he didn’t run into any other residents of the apartment complex. He’s thankful for this, actually, because he doesn’t think he can handle anymore forced conversation then he absolutely has to, and this interaction of his special delivery was going to fill his socializing quota for the day.

He’s writing a whole script in his head of exactly what to say to the man he was about to meet, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for why he opened it without reading the name. Honestly, though, he’d been so traumatized by the whole pickle experience, he felt that he didn’t really owe anyone an explanation. If anything, this Phil guy would owe him payments for a therapist after this.

Having worked himself up into a proper state of irritation when he reaches the door with the number 906 on it, he knocks three times, sharply. He stands with his arms crossed, the small box clutched in his left hand and tucked under his arm. Impatiently, he taps his foot as he waits, fueling his annoyance for this whole situation as he waits for the door to open.

There’s the sound of footsteps and then the door is swinging open, and Dan has a glare on his face, ready to chew out this absolute freak for ordering such a cursed thing, but the words die in his throat as the occupant comes into view. The man standing there raises an eyebrow at Dan, clearly wondering who the hell he is and what he wants, although that’s not what catches Dan’s attention. He can’t be much older than Dan, maybe a few years, but he’s got to be one of the most attractive men he’d ever laid eyes on.

He’s got black hair that looks like it’s been dipped in ink, quiffed up away from his forehead, which is a little wide. Distracting from that, however, is his glasses, which sit slightly skewed on his nose, making him only that much more endearing, honestly. Dan’s eyes dart down to take in his clothes, and he nearly snorts at the NASA shirt and black jeans. He looked adorable and slightly dorky, and absolutely Dan’s type.

Dan nearly swears as he realizes that the man before him is very much not a pervert, but then he realizes he’s just standing there staring at him and not speaking. So, like the idiot he apparently is, he remembers the box in his hand and shoves it forward, nearly hitting the man in the process. “Here,” he mumbles out.

The man, Phil, he’s assuming, takes the box, glancing at it in confusion before his blue eyes dart back up to meet Dan’s. “Um…” He starts, looking a little lost for words.

“Sorry, uh-“ Dan shakes himself. Get it together. You can’t lose your shit just because he’s cute, you know. “The post came, and I online shop a lot, so I just assumed it was mine and didn’t read the name before opening it, so yeah, I’m here to return it.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, chewing his lip thoughtfully before nodding to the box. “Uh, interesting buy there, though.” Then he blushes, realizing how weird it was for him to actually know what it was that this stranger had ordered.

The ebony haired man looks confused for a moment before he pulls one of the flaps on the box open, inspecting the contents of the box. “Oh,” he gasps out, reaching in and pulling it out, his face lighting up. He catches Dan’s uncomfortable gaze then, and something crosses his face before his cheeks flush. He must’ve realized how strange the object looked at first sight, and by the look on his face now, he was embarrassed that someone else had been unfortunate enough to open it. “I am so sorry, oh my god- I know this looks like a- well, um…” He presses his lips together and looks down at it before quickly dropping it into the box.

Dan, more comfortable with the situation now that Phil’s embarrassed too, shrugs. “Looks a bit like a dildo, mate.” He smirks when Phil’s eyebrows shoot up, their gazes meeting before Phil quickly looks away.

“Erm, yeah.” Phil sounds incredibly uncomfortable, and Dan almost feels guilty for saying it. Almost.

“I’m Dan, by the way,” he says after a moment of silence. He doesn’t hold his hand out for a handshake, being the awkward human he is, but Phil just nods.

“I’m Phil, but I guess you figured that out,” he laughs quietly, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck in what Dan thinks is probably a nervous habit.

Dan smirks at this before nodding. “Yeah. Nice to meet you, Phil.” Considering his job done, Dan takes one last appraising look at Phil before smirking once more, lifting a hand up to give a little salute. “See you around, mate. Have fun with your…well, you know.”

If it’s even possible, Phil’s cheeks flush even more, bringing Dan to stifle a giggle as he walks away. Just as he’s taking a few strides away from the door, he hears the other man’s voice call his name. Turning back around, he hums in question. Phil hesitates before holding up the box. “This is for a video. I don’t just buy yodeling pickles for myself.” He looks very concerned as he says this, as if he’s very concerned about what Dan leaves thinking about him.

Dan only smiles, shrugging. “Sure thing, Phil. Have a good day.”

He’s not positive, but he thinks that just before the door shuts, he hears a quiet, “I promise I’m not weird.”

Either way, he knows this man is weird, but he thinks he might just like that.

---

It’s nearly three weeks before another incident happens. This time, however, Dan feels that it’s almost the universe’s way of telling him that he should’ve done more than just stare at Phil last time, like maybe ask for his number, or something intelligent. Regardless, this time when Dan receives the package, he’s careful to read the name on it first. He almost calls the delivery guy back to tell him he’d brought it to the wrong door yet again, but he decides against it. After all, he can’t look at Phil if the delivery guy takes the package to him.

So instead, he pulls on his shoes and grabs his phone before making his way up three floors to room 906 yet again. He’s humming to himself as he goes, in a surprisingly good mood for once. The delivery hadn’t been at an ungodly hour for once, so he was actually quite pleased with the day’s events. Maybe this time he’ll be less sleep deprived and more able to hold an actual conversation with the cute stranger who orders questionable things.

He raps on the door three times, stepping back and rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits patiently for the door to open. This time, he promises himself, he’ll ask for Phil’s phone number, maybe flirt a little more. He didn’t honestly think he had a chance, but there was really nothing stopping him. He was in a reasonably good place for once, so it made perfect sense for him to shamelessly flirt with the cute guy on the ninth floor, and who knows, maybe it’ll go somewhere.

All of his optimism comes crashing down, however, when the door swings open, revealing a man who is very much not Phil. And as if his mind has blanked and he doesn’t know how to properly speak to a stranger, the only thing Dan can think of is-

“You aren’t Phil.”

The man, who’s shirtless, Dan notices with a blush, regards him with a blank expression before letting out a sharp laugh. “Well, no, I’m not.” He sounds friendly enough, but something about the fact that he’s in Phil’s flat, shirtless, really annoys Dan. His subconscious helpfully adds that he doesn’t look like that when he’s shirtless, and Dan struggles to shove that voice away.

He realizes that the Adonis look alike is standing there looking at him, an impatient look on his face as he waits for Dan to speak. “Oh, er-“ he quickly hands over the package. “Phil’s package got sent to my flat again, I was just bringing it up to him.” He shrugs then, tucking his hands in his pockets.

Adonis looks down at the package, a look of understanding on his face. “Oh, thanks! What did you say your name was?” He asks, glancing up at Dan with an easy, polite smile.

“Er- I didn’t,” Dan mumbles awkwardly, mentally slapping himself as he takes a step back. “Anyway, have a nice day!”

As quickly as possible, and ignoring the confused, “Wait!” thrown his way, Dan hurries to the elevator, seriously wishing he could crawl under his blankets for the next month after that embarrassment.

How could he let himself seriously get his hopes up over some guy he didn’t even know? Like sure he’s cute and probably dorky if his NASA shirt and stupid mismatched socks and glasses were any indication, and maybe he did make interesting online purchases that made Dan want to know more, but he couldn’t honestly expect anything after only this much information. He forces himself to keep this in mind as he goes back to his own flat, reminding himself again that he needed to let it go. It wasn’t a big deal; hell, it wasn’t even a small one. He was just delivering packages that had been misdelivered in the first place, and if the cute recipient had a boyfriend that looked like a Greek god, then that was really none of his business, was it?

---

“Fuck,” Dan whimpers. He was currently in what some could consider a compromising position, but as he lived alone and was a twenty-seven-year old man, he felt that it was well within his rights to be laying in his bed at eleven on a Friday morning, working a hand over himself in the safety of his room. He was chewing on his bottom lip harshly, trying to quiet himself as much as possible. He knew he was alone, but sometimes whenever he had the occasional hookup he was reminded of how loud he was in the bedroom, a fact that made him incredibly self-conscious. So sometimes when he was alone, getting himself off, he would try and train himself to be quieter. Sometimes he thought he was making a lot of practice, but then other times it would dawn on him that he just got louder as he got closer to his release, and when his head was swimming with pleasure it was difficult to focus on much else.

On this particular morning, he had been working over himself for nearly ten minutes, slightly edging himself (he had nothing better to do) and he knew his body well enough to know he was getting close. He felt incredibly wound up and he knew just a few more strokes and he’d be gone.

Just as he feels he’s about to burst, however, he’s completely interrupted by a knock on his front door. His flat wasn’t very large, and it was kind of open plan aside from the door separating the bedroom to the rest of the flat, so when someone was knocking at his door, he could hear the sound very well through his bedroom door. A little too well, if he was being honest.

Embarrassingly, even as he jumps at the sound, the thought of someone being so close, yet so unaware of what he’s doing, is enough to send him over the edge. He has the common sense as the pleasure is washing over him to cover his mouth, thoroughly stifling the obnoxious whine that was breaking free as he came over his hand. He barely has any time to be disgusted with himself before the knocking has returned, and he scrambles to get up and clean himself up.

“Goddammit,” he mutters sourly as he grabs a dirty t-shirt from the floor, cleaning himself quickly before tucking himself back into his pants neatly. He cringes as he passes the mirror by his bedroom door, catching a good look of himself as he does. His hair was a right mess and his face was flushed with pleasure. There was little doubt what he’d just gotten up to, but there was literally no time to waste as he had to go answer the door.

He’s muttering to himself, cursing out whoever is on the other side of the door as he walks over, because whoever it is has to be the most inconsiderate, selfish- he swings the door open then, and his inner monologue hushes.

There, looking rather sheepish, is Phil Lester. He waves shyly, looking a little awkward as he does it. “Hi, there.”

Dan had honestly almost forgotten all about the incident with Phil, as it had been about a month and a half since he had taken the package up to his flat, only to be met with Adonis’ twin instead of Phil himself. During that time, he’d come to terms with how silly he had been to feel so attracted to the man, and after he realized that it hadn’t taken him long at all to forget about the whole thing entirely, or at least repress it enough for it to be manageable.

Granted, in this time of repressing Dan had plenty of time to remember stupid things, like how Phil’s glasses sat just so on his nose, and the fact that he had worn mismatched socks, one blue with pizzas all over it while the other had been green and covered in little neon flamingoes. So, really, he hadn’t completely forgotten about the stranger; but standing before him now, he realized that he had probably done him the injustice of misremembering him for how attractive he truly was.

Today, Phil stood wearing a pair of black skinny jeans like before, but unlike last time, he’s wearing a green hoodie that’s got a few well-placed holes in it, clearly a bold fashion choice, that Dan personally thinks looks fantastic. His glasses are gone this time, probably replaced with contacts, and it takes Dan a moment of just looking at him to realize he’s not empty handed. “Um… hi?” He stutters out, confused.

Phil shifts, his gaze dropping to the box. His cheeks appear a little flushed, and Dan wonders if he looks even more fucked out than he thought. He sends up a little prayer that he doesn’t have any… evidence… of his most recent activity anywhere visible on his clothes, but a discreet glance down proves that he doesn’t. “I feel this is a little backwards,” Phil laughs out awkwardly, holding the box out to Dan. “I got your package this time.”

Dan’s surprised, one, because this has happened yet again, even if it is in the opposite direction, and two, because he doesn’t really remember ordering… oh. Oh no.

As he takes the narrow package from Phil, his cheeks flush. It’s not until it’s in his hands that he realizes that there’s small strips of scotch tape holding it closed, meaning it had already been opened. This just causes him to feel even more embarrassed, because if his guess is correct, the item in this box is a little less… innocent than the one that Phil had received. One glance up at Phil, who is chewing his lips as he stares at the box, a rosy tint to his cheeks, proves that what he’s thinking is exactly what is in this box.

“Um… thank you,” Dan stammers out, his finger brushing along the tape that was carefully placed on the box.

Phil’s eyes follow this action, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them and bringing his gaze up to meet Dan’s. “I may have… well, I did accidentally open it, thinking it was mine. I was expecting a package I was really excited to get, and I just-“

Dan cuts him off then, a sudden flare of annoyance rising up, completely unwarranted since he’d done the exact same thing. But when he speaks his voice his bitter, and he almost immediately regrets it. “Oh, were you expecting a vibrator too?” He snaps.

He holds his breath after speaking, his eyes widening in surprise at himself. He honestly hadn’t expected that kind of reaction, even from himself. But there it was in the open, and now he just had to wait for Phil’s reaction. He waits with bated breath, pretty certain the man in front of him was about to blush and stammer out an awkward goodbye before putting as much distance between them as possible.

Since he was so certain that was the reaction he was about to get, he’s thoroughly shocked when Phil’s eyes widen before a smirk tugs at his lips and he rolls his shoulders back. “I was, actually,” he responds smoothly, crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow, almost in challenge.

Then it’s Dan’s turn to blush, and he looks down at the box in his hands, a little more than uncomfortable with this turn of events. Sure, he can talk, but when he actually gets a response that rivals his own lewdness, he’s a little taken aback. “O-oh. Well, um… I hope you get yours soon.” He feels his face is literally about to burst into flames with how warm his cheeks are, and he almost wishes they would, just to save him from this embarrassment.

Phil leans against his doorframe then, causing Dan’s eyes to widen as he shifts a little further away as subtly as possible. His hand comes to rest on the door handle, ready to shut it but not wanting to be rude. “Mhm, me too,” Phil hums. He tilts his head then before nodding to the box in his hands. “Do you need any help with that?” He asks, his gaze heated as he waits for Dan’s response.

Apparently just this question, and the implications behind it, renders Dan a little speechless at first. He stutters out something that isn’t words before clearing his throat and shaking his head once. “I’m not- I don’t…” he shakes his head again, trying to clear his thoughts. Suddenly, a memory comes to him, one of an Adonis look-alike, shirtless, in Phil’s flat. He suddenly frowns, anger flaring up at the idea that this man is here flirting with him, when he has that to go home to. “No, I don’t need any help.” He puts as much force behind his words as he can manage, moving to close the door. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a homewrecker; he wasn’t about to continue allowing this interaction to happen when this man was clearly taken.

“Are you sure?” Phil’s smooth voice meets his ears, and Dan glares at him.

“Positive,” he hisses. “I’m sure your boyfriend would be delighted for you to help him with something like that when yours comes in, but I’m all set, thanks.” He takes the surprised look he receives as his opportunity to shut the door. “Have a nice day,” he mutters, slamming the door and sliding the lock into place, satisfied by the loud click it makes as it slides over.

Without even waiting for any sort of noise on the other side, Dan stomps to his room, tossing the package on his desk to be dealt with. Right now, he just needed a shower, and probably an Advil if his blossoming headache was anything to go by.

---

A couple uneventful days pass after the awkward interaction with Phil, giving Dan more than enough time to get over his embarrassment. Well, sort of. Maybe he lies awake at night, replaying the conversation and blushing every time he thinks about how blunt Phil had been, but honestly no one is there to prove it.

He's sat at his kitchen table on Friday, his laptop in front of him with a script for his radio show open in a word document. He was working on the show for next week, but the more he tried to focus, the more distracted he felt. His eyes would flit over to the balcony and he’d focus on the pigeons for a few minutes before his mind would wander to something else, like his rent coming due or his grandma’s birthday or-

A buzzing sound interrupts his distracted thoughts, and for a moment he’s relieved that at least now he has a good reason to be distracted. Then he’s annoyed, because he hadn’t been expecting anyone. And because of the last time he had an unexpected guest, he’s more than a little wary to go check the intercom. “Yeah?” He says carefully, pulling off the button to hear the answer.

“Er, I have a delivery to make,” the man says, and Dan groans. Maybe this was his HDMI cables he had ordered, which would be great, considering he’d waited long enough.

“Right, come on up.” Dan presses the button to unlock the door for him, shuffling over to his kitchen table to wait.

A few minutes later, there’s a sharp rap on his door. When he tentatively pulls the door open, he’s a little embarrassed to see the postman standing on the other side. It’s the same one it was over two months ago, the man who saw Dan in only his boxers that day he brought the strange pickle thing that Phil bought. Dan can’t help but frown at him, eyeing the box in his hand suspiciously as he signs for it. “Here you go, sir.” He hands the box over without fuss, and Dan nods, waving before shutting the door.

He swears loudly when he looks at the label then, seeing a name that is arguably not his own at the top of the label. Groaning, he swings the door open again, ducking his head out in search of the delivery man. “Sorry, sir? This isn’t mine.”

The uniformed man turns, a surprised look on his face. “Um…” He looks nervous, and Dan has to remind himself that this guy is new at this.

Dan holds up the box and waves it around for emphasis, hearing something within it rattle. “Yeah, this says Phil Lester, I’m not Phil Lester.”

Walking back over slowly, the man glances down at his delivery slip, then stares at the number on the door. “Sorry, this says 609. I delivered it to 609.” He shrugs then, as if there’s nothing more he can do. Dan stares down at the package and sees that he’s right; instead of 906, the address is clearly labeled with the number to his own flat. Phil likely just made a mistake typing it in, but that wasn’t Dan’s fault.

When the postman turns to walk back down the hall toward the elevator, Dan shakes his head, his eyebrows knitting together. “No, can’t you like take it up to him instead?”

The man barely looks at him, shrugging as if he feels sorry. “No, sorry, mate. I delivered it to the address specified on the package.” With that, he disappears around the corner, leaving Dan staring after him with a glare etched onto his face.

“Fucking… ugh,” Dan grumbles to himself as he walks back into his flat. Despite the fact that the postman is out of sight and cannot hear him, he slams the door, seething. How the hell was he meant to go up there and face Phil, yet again, especially after what happened just a few days ago? He couldn’t. He would die of embarrassment, he was absolutely sure of it.

Still, he couldn’t exactly keep it. He debated opening it to see what it was, almost wondering if it would even be something worth keeping. He wipes that thought away quickly, though, when he remembers what package Phil had said he was waiting on. A shudder involuntarily wracks Dan’s body, and he tries desperately to ignore the swell of arousal he feels at the thought. Nope, he was definitely not keeping it. Maybe he’d just knock on the door and leave it outside, like the coward he felt he was.

He quickly dismisses that thought as well. He knows himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t go as far as denying himself the pleasure of seeing Phil again, if only to admire his looks. He’s taken! The voice in his head reminds him. He sighs, but he knows it’s true. So, this will have to be a quick trip, strictly business.

Even with that thought, he is a bit excited as he slips his shoes on and tucks his phone in his back pocket. Just because he can’t touch doesn’t mean he can’t look. He can’t order from the menu, but he can certainly look at it.

He makes a quick trip up to the ninth floor, and when he gets to Phil’s door he knocks twice, rather loudly. Trying not to allow himself to back out now, he stuffs his empty hand in his pocket, tucking the package under his other arm as he rocks back and forth on his feet. He’s already envisioning how cute Phil will look, how perfectly hot and untouchable he’ll be, and the thought is enough to make his knees go a little weak.

However, when the door opens, he’s met with a completely different sight than the well put-together man he’d seen on the other occasions. Instead, Phil was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from York University, and over his shoulders was a thick blanket, which he clutched with the hand he was currently not using to steady himself on the door. So, to put it bluntly, he looked like death.

Dan allows himself a moment to stare at him before he raises an eyebrow. “Not to be blunt, mate, but you look like shit,” he says eloquently, trying to hide a smile when Phil ducks his head.

“Sorry,” he croaks, his voice scratchy and hoarse. He was clearly ill, and Dan felt a strong pang of sympathy. His dulled blue eyes drop to the box Dan’s still holding, and a rosy tint appears on the apple of his cheeks.

Smiling slightly but feeling a little awkward about his earlier perverted thoughts due to Phil’s clear lack of wellbeing, Dan hands him the box. “If this keeps happening we might just have to become friends, just so this isn’t so awkward anymore,” he jokes, putting his hand in his pocket when Phil takes the box.

Phil smiles weakly, glancing down at the box. He sighs then, looking sort of resigned. “I’ll be honest, Dan, I may have put your number on the address on purpose.” He blushes as he confesses this, his gaze flicking down to the floor.

Dan, left a little speechless by this revelation, can’t really process it at first. “Sorry, you what?” He definitely didn’t understand why Phil would have done this. He didn’t seem like the type to just enjoy being an inconvenience for other people, and while Dan knew their last encounter had ended on strange note, he really didn’t think Phil would have actually done it to be flirtatious. He had a boyfriend, after all.

Nodding, Phil pushes his hair up a little, away from his forehead. “Yeah. I… I wanted an excuse to see you again.” He sounds only slightly embarrassed now but seems to grow more confident when he sees Dan’s confusion. “Obviously I’m ill and gross now, so like, that failed, but still.” He shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal, then shifts so he’s leaning more on the door.

Dan realizes he should probably leave now and let Phil rest, so he takes a step away from the door. “Oh, well… I should get going, actually. I have… yeah. I’ll let you get some rest.”

Before he can turn around, Phil steps closer. “Actually, Dan, um…” He hesitates then, before seemingly making up his mind. “Could I get your number? I know we don’t know each other, but I’d love to get coffee sometimes.” His voice is hopeful, and Dan is so inclined to say yes, but all he can think of is the shirtless man who opened the door that one day. Dan couldn’t comprehend that Phil was actually willing to ruin it with that man, and although Dan was sufficiently jealous of the boyfriend for getting Phil all for himself, he wasn’t going to knowingly be part of an affair.

Deciding to just be honest, Dan sighs. “Phil… I would, but I can’t… do that…” He trails off, but at Phil’s disappointed expression, he rushes to explain. “I mean, sure, if you were single! I absolutely would. But… I’ve been cheated on before, and I would never, ever, willingly help someone else do it, I just… can’t.”

At first, Phil’s face is disappointed, but the more Dan talks, the more confused he seems to get. By the time Dan’s done, Phil is staring at him, his head tilted and eyes squinting, as if that’ll give him a better look at Dan. Feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze, Dan shifts, waiting for the other man to speak.

“I’m not dating anyone, Dan,” he says finally, his voice sounding amused.

Dan’s mind blanks suddenly, and it takes him a moment to fully comprehend what he means by that. “Oh… you’re… you’re not?” When Phil shakes his head, Dan’s eyebrows knit together. “But I thought… there was that guy, here. He answered the door… shirtless...” The more he talks, the stupider he feels, so he just shakes his head. “I’m sorry, what?”

Phil smiles, covering his mouth to cough as he goes to answer. Dan steps forward, concerned, but Phil waves him off. “I’m not dating anyone. I haven’t in a long time, actually.” He shrugs, tugging his blanket closer to him. “I think you might’ve seen my friend PJ, actually. He stays over sometimes when he’s in the city.”

The explanation checks out, obviously, because Dan doesn’t have any evidence to prove otherwise, but he still feels a little dumb for just assuming in the first place. Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he can’t help but laughing at how ridiculous the situation was turning out to be. “Right… Well, that just makes me look like a massive twat,” he says awkwardly.

A sweet smile crosses Phil’s face as he tilts his head to rest against the door. “You look pretty good to me, actually,” he says smoothly, causing Dan’s already flushed cheeks to brighten even more.

“Come off it,” Dan laughs before bringing his hands back to his pockets. He stands there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before something occurs to him. Phil is single, apparently, and also interested in Dan. Which means…

“Do you mind coming inside for a minute? So, I can put this down and grab my phone? You still need to give me your number.” Phil steps away from the door and ushers Dan in, and he’s sort of helpless to deny it, as he’s literally being guided into the flat.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Dan steps in and closes the door behind him, suddenly hyper-aware of his surroundings. He’s actually in Phil’s flat, following him to the kitchen.

Phil drops the package onto the table before looking around, a confused look on his face. “Well, um, I thought my phone was in here…” His face suddenly lights up and he reaches a hand back, tugging it out of his back pocket, a triumphant smile on his face. “Here you go,” he says brightly, handing it over after unlocking it.

Dan tries to hide his small smile as he programs his name in, but it’s hard. He was relieved that Phil was single, even more so now that he knew that Phil was also interested in him. Even still, he doesn’t send himself a text to get Phil’s number, still a little too shy to do that. “Here,” he hands Phil his phone back, tucking his hands in his pockets as he watches Phil’s face as he looks down at the screen.

“Your last name is Howell?” He asks, smiling. Dan rolls his eyes, expecting the joke that he knows is coming. “If you decide to have kids, you should name one of them Wolf.” A smirk makes its way onto Phil’s face, and Dan pretends to be surprised.

“Oh my god, that’s brilliant, I’ve never had literally anyone make that same exact joke before!” he says sarcastically, his smile giving away that he wasn’t actually annoyed.

Phil laughs quietly, leaning back against the counter and tilting his head. “I know, Dan. I’m just really original, it might be a lot to handle at first.”

Dan raises an eyebrow before nodding seriously. “Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll have to learn a thing or two from you with all that originality,” he jokes, dragging a hand through his hair, half-nervous from their banter.

“Oh, I can definitely teach you a thing or two,” Phil smirks and winks, but he clearly doesn’t know exactly how to do the winking part and it just looks like he’s blinking to clear something out of his eye.

“Okay, ew, I’m gonna go now before you molest me,” Dan giggles, inching backwards towards the door.

Offended, Phil shakes his head. “Excuse me, I would never! I’m a gentleman!”

Dan smirks at this, shrugging. “Ah, that’s too bad. I like it rough.” He winks this time, and since he can actually complete the motion without looking like he’s in pain, it has a different effect on Phil, who visibly gulps.

“Oh, um…” Phil, clearly at a loss for something flirty to reply with, glances around the room before finally sighing, looking at Dan with an embarrassed smile. “You win. I can’t do the whole flirtatious banter thing,” he admits.

Shrugging, Dan says, “Neither can I, but I can fake it.”

Phil smiles at this, his head tilting to the side adorably as he studies Dan. “You’ll answer if I text you, right?” He asks tentatively, his voice full of hope.

Dan smiles a little, nodding. “Sure, Phil.” He tries his hardest to play it off in a cool way, although the truth is he feels giddy at the prospect of actually getting to know Phil or, heaven forbid, going on a date with him.

“Good, I’m sick of ordering things and having them sent to your apartment to try and get you to come see me.” Phil’s cheeks flush as he says this, and he looks down as if he hadn’t actually meant to say it aloud at all.

Dan, surprised by this revelation, takes only a second to process it before laughing loudly. “You didn’t- oh my god, Phil. That’s precious.” He can’t hold himself back, giggling at the very idea of this man ordering things and intentionally putting in the wrong number to get them sent to Dan’s flat. Maybe the first time it was a mistake, but he was implying that the times after that had been on purpose. The very idea of this sends Dan into another fit of giggles, and Phil pouts at him. “Sorry-“ he breathes, calming himself down. “That’s just… that’s fucking cute, mate.”

Phil rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “I thought it was romantic, and clever,” he mumbles, and Dan grins, unable to help it as he takes a couple steps forward, brushing a strand of Phil’s hair back before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“It was definitely something,” he admits, smiling at the pink patches across Phil’s cheeks. “I’ll answer your text when you send it, though, so you don’t have to worry about going through that much trouble anymore.” He smiles again at the knowledge that Phil had honestly tried that hard to flirt with him, shaking his head as he steps back.

“You better,” Phil warns teasingly. Dan rolls his eyes before moving to leave, stopping when Phil calls his name. “Oh, um… you might get another one of my packages soon…” he says awkwardly, a blush covering his cheeks.

“Oh my god,” Dan cackles, wondering what on earth it would be. “Seriously?”

Phil pouts. “Well, how was I supposed to know that it would work out this time and you would actually like me back? It just so happens that I ordered a couple things on the same day and, well…”

Dan rolls his eyes, but nods nonetheless. “Sure, Phil. I guess I’ll see you in a couple days with your package.”

Phil grins then, and Dan can tell by the cheeky smile that something awful is coming. “You can see me with my package whenever you’d like, Dan,” he giggles at the horrible innuendo, and Dan groans.

“Goodbye! I’m leaving now!” he calls obnoxiously as he steps out of the flat and into the hallway.

Phil responds in a similar way, and Dan makes his way down the hall to the elevator.

So, what if he smiles to himself the whole way back to his flat? And so what if, when he gets a funny text from Phil a few minutes after stepping into his lounge, he sits and giggles at it for a full minute and a half before responding? That’s his business.

#danandphil #phanfiction #yodeling pickle #im so sorry for all of this

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pofcroyalfanfiction · 6 years

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Chapter Sixty - Ascension

Ellie couldn't remember a worse night's sleep. She lay awake, staring at the dark ceiling and listening to the noises coming from the other rooms, the footsteps from the corridors, the muffled voices from across the palace. Everyone was restless, tense, anxious, so much so that she could feel it in the air. Nobody was sleeping, at the most they were lying there with their eyes closed, waiting to drift off.

Alex was shifting about in her bed constantly, never finding a comfortable position. Ellie could hear their parents in the room next door too, getting up constantly and walking around. Every now and then one of them would peak into Ellie and Alex's room, checking if they were asleep. Ellie pretended she was, but her parents could likely tell that she wasn't. It wasn't worth having a conversation over anyway, they all knew why they couldn't sleep and she had decided that talking wasn't going to help.

They were all waiting, hoping to hear something good. Nobody cared how early in the morning it was, they all knew that as soon as they heard anything, the whole house would jump out of bed. The only thing that they could do was try and sleep, hoping that they would be able to make a few more hours vanish.

It was hopeless, Ellie thought. Staff rushed hurriedly down the corridors, people were talking in the other rooms, cars were arriving throughout the night with their headlights strafing the walls of the palace and lighting up each room. It was as though night had never actually come, as if Sandringham still thought it was daytime and was acting appropriately.

Ellie gave up, she'd gotten a couple of hours, nothing more, and even that was separated into short fifteen-minute stretches. She decided to climb out of bed and go for a walk, copying her parents. They hadn't made a noise for at least half an hour, so she figured a walk must have helped.

Her suitcase sat against a chair beside her bed, still mostly packed up. Struggling to see in the darkness, she knocked it on its side as she was trying to find some slippers and a nightgown, causing her neatly folded clothes to fall out in a mess and her sister to wake up.

"Walk much?" Alex groaned.

"Snore much?" Ellie retorted.

Alex wrinkled up her face and sneered at her before burying her head in the pillow. "Don't get lost."

Ellie roughly shoved her clothes back into the suit case, but her eyes were drawn to a black dress that had been on the bottom of the pile. Even in the dark of the room, the black fabric of the dress seemed to stand out and yell at her.

Every royal is supposed to always have something black to wear, just in case a family member died unexpectedly. Ellie hated seeing it in her suitcase. It always made her depressed when she saw it, especially over the last few years and seeing her great grandmother slowly pulling away from public life. She had never paid much attention to it, but recently she always seemed to be there in the exact moment Anna packed it into her suitcase.

Ellie picked it up daintily, avoiding touching it as much as possible, and then shoved it back into her suitcase and covered it with a pile of clothes. She didn't want to see it just yet, she told herself, tying the sash of her nightgown with a determined forcefulness.

The corridor outside wasn't as busy as she expected, since it was the Queen's apartments after all. The staff all seemed to recognise that the family needed their rest, and the few courtiers that did walk the corridors made sure to be as quiet as possible.

Ellie watched them as they moved around her, all of them bowing to her and leaving her to roam the palace. They were all looking gloomy, already seemingly in mourning. She could see it in their faces, a distracted, distant sort of look, and in the way they looked at her, pitying, worried, looking after her. In that moment Ellie felt like everyone was her parent, all of them waiting to see what she would do, whether she would burst out in tears or be crushed by the responsibility.

It wasn't just her though, she could see the same looks being given to her dad and grandfather. Even though everyone in the palace was contemplating the loss of the Queen, special attention seemed to be being given to those closest to her in the line of succession. Charles and Camilla had arrived not long after Ellie's family, still wearing what they had worn to the party hours before, yet the staff seemed to bow even deeper than normal, be even more gracious than usual, as if he was already the King.

Ellie was less worried about her grandfather. As long as she'd known him he had always appeared ready to be King, by the time she was born Charles had been a king in waiting for sixty-four years. He was so kingly that Ellie had spent much of her early life thinking the country had two monarchs. It wasn't until later in her life when her father had explained the royal ranking system and the line of succession that she'd actually understood Charles' place in all of it, as well as her own.

Of course he's worried, he seemed a bit shaky when he arrived, and quieter than usual. But everyone knows that over the last few years he's been King in everything but name.

Everyone had been doing more work. Her mother definitely hadn't been lying. The whole family had prepared for a surprise death years ago, stepping up engagements, taking over patronages and official duties. Ellie had been at school for most of it, but she still ended up being pulled into events with her parents more often than she was used to.

But her great grandmother had thankfully kept going. She heavily reduced her work schedule, but her family schedule had never changed. The past few years had included Sandringham Christmases, summers in Balmoral, Trooping the Colour all as usual. There was never a time where Ellie felt like Elizabeth had become isolated from the family, and this meant they had all grown used to her being around.

Ellie wasn't the only one in the family who thought the Queen had planned it this way, allowing her family and country to get used to her not being around in an official capacity, but not leaving them shell shocked by passing away suddenly.

She was always super crafty.

Ellie crept silent across the palace, avoiding the staff where she could. She watched from a distance as doctors quietly entered and exited the Queen's bedchamber, constantly checking up on her. There was no obvious looks on their faces, no frenzied chatter, so Ellie assumed that her great grandmother was still asleep. Philip would probably be annoyed with the constant coming and goings of the doctors, but he wouldn't be anywhere else.

She hadn't heard a word from her great grandfather all day, only briefly greeting him at her birthday party hours ago. As far as she could tell, Philip hadn't left his wife's side.

I wonder if I'll meet someone like that. No, no, don't think about that just yet.

Despite the massive changes in her family, in her country, that were happening all around her, Ellie had convinced herself not to think about them. The chat with her mother had decided one thing, that all thoughts of her royal destiny were being put on hold. Yes the succession would change. Yes they might all be getting new titles. Yes she may soon no longer be third in line to the throne, but all this was secondary to her family. She was about to lose someone who had played a huge role in her life, that was it.

She wanted time to deal with that and then to just be herself. It would be a lifetime before she would ever become Queen, and as far as she was concerned she wasn't going to think about it until the time came.

It's not just about you though, is it? What about Dad? What's gonna happen to the family when Dad becomes Prince of Wales?

She was more worried about her father. Mum was looking after him, keeping a close guard on his feelings, always staying close to him. Emma was doing the same with Harry. As much as she loved her great grandmother, it was her father and uncle who had a much stronger emotional bond with her. They were probably about to lose their grandmother, but Ellie couldn't really tell how they were feeling. Her parents, along with her aunt and uncle, were so focused on how their children were doing that it was hard to get a word in and ask them.

By the time she had decided to head back to her room the sun was starting to rise. She hadn't really kept track of where she was walking, but with all the corridors looking roughly the same she knew it didn't matter. Getting lost would just be a nice distraction from everything that was going on. She could pretend to be a kid again, playing hide and seek and running between the portraits of people she didn't know. It was nice to stare up at one of the old paintings that hung from the wall, run her fingers along the gilded golden frame and remember a time where everything felt new and nothing felt like it was coming to an end.

"Eleanor, Eleanor, come here darling." Her mother had said years and years ago. She pulled Ellie back by the hand and knelt beside her, then pointed up at the painting.

"And who's this one?" Kate spoke closely into her ear.

Ellie could remember shaking her head and pretending not to know. If she said the right answer she knew her mother would just want her to get all the others right as well. Ellie always wanted to play instead.

"Come on, I know you know this one honey."

"Nope, who is it?" Ellie had asked innocently.

She remembered her mother's stern look, right down her nose. "I promise you can go play if you get this one right."

"Promise?"

Kate nodded at her, smiling expectantly.

"It's Edward the third Mummy." Ellie told her. "He became king when he was fourteen and ruled for fifty years. Can I go now?"

"Yes you can poppet, good girl." She earned a massive engulfing hug from her mother who wouldn't let go until Ellie eventually wriggled away.

Of course now it wasn't as exhilarating, she knew who was in every painting and wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. The early morning stroll through the palace had worked and she was now more tired than ever, but the sounds of running footsteps echoing towards her pushed the thoughts of sleeping far away.

Alex span around the corner, her exhausted face lit up by the sun that was starting to streak through the tall palace windows. She slid to a halt in front of Ellie and bent over, hands on her thighs and taking deep breaths. Ellie helped Alex up and made her stand up straight.

"Better?" Ellie asked.

"She's awake." Alex said between breathes. "Granny's awake."

Ellie stood frozen in shock. Alex grabbed her hand and started sprinting, speeding past the portrait of Edward III on their way. Gradually her feet started to work again, keeping pace with her sister. All thoughts of tiredness and sleeping were gone, she had never felt wider awake.

Ellie had grown comfortable thinking she'd never speak to her granny again, but her reaction told her she was completely wrong. If she hadn't woken up, Ellie would have regretted not spending more time with her, she would have regretted running away at the party when those could have been her great grandmother's last hours.

She had to see her.

Together they charged across the grand ball room, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor and reverberating all around them. Through the large towering windows they could see more cars arriving outside, as well as people running through the corridors. They sped past footmen and courtiers alike, everyone converging on the same spot.

In a frenzied mess, the entire family crowded together outside the Queen's bedroom. Some were in their pyjamas, others in hastily put together outfits. Pretty much anyone who had come to her birthday the day before was still wearing party clothes, those who had turned back half way through their journeys home and had no time to get changed. Even the staff gathered in close, ignoring all sorts of rules and protocols about distance and privacy, but nobody cared. Everyone gathered around the closed door, struggling to see, all wanting to know how the Queen was doing.

The doctor came out just as Ellie felt her parents shuffle in behind her. He was immediately uncomfortable in front of what appeared to be the entire family and house staff, his voice so quiet that everyone strained to hear.

"The Queen is awake. She is weak, but she is awake and speaking."

He looked straight to her grandfather Charles, who made his way to the front of the group with Camilla beside him. The doctor deferred to Charles and opened the door, allowing her grandparents to quietly slide into the room with nobody else being allowed to follow.

She could feel everyone around her deflate as soon as the door closed, all of them expecting a long wait before they could see her, but instead they heard a chirpy, lively voice chuckling from inside the room.

"Is the whole family out there?" Elizabeth said.

There was a pause and some quiet murmuring.

"Well bring them in then!"

Everyone burst into laughter as the door clicked open once again and they all started to flood inside. Very quickly the gloomy mood had lifted, replaced by a light and airy atmosphere that none of them ever wanted to leave.

Ellie could feel her nerves rattling as she went inside, with George and Charlotte weaving around her legs and tripping everyone up. She was expecting to see her granny hooked up to all sorts of machines, more robot than woman, hanging onto life by a single thread, but that was far from the case.

Elizabeth sat upright in bed, supported by dozens of cushions and looking incredibly cosy with a sleepy looking Duke beside her. She beamed a massive smile at all of them, her arms open wide and welcoming.

Ellie found herself at the front of the group. She gave her granny a quick and shaky curtsey, just about remembering to do so and holding up the entire crowd behind her.

Elizabeth waved her hand dismissively. "Just this once, enough of that. Come on, I want to see everyone."

Ellie rushed forward and thankfully kissed her on both cheeks. She debated whether she should hug her, but her granny pulled her in for one anyway. She didn't seem ill at all.

"And take those grim looks off your faces, I'm not dead yet."

"Sorry Gran." Harry said. Ellie noticed everyone smile at the same moment, quickly hiding their confusion. Everyone was so unsure. It was hard to believe that the woman sitting in the bed was a hundred and four years old and had a stroke only a few hours before.

Elizabeth rubbed Ellie's back and waved at everyone to come forward. "Come on, everyone inside, children up on the bed now, pip pip!"

The younger royals cheered and flooded forward, climbing and pushing their way through the adults, stepping over their feet and climbing up onto the Queen's bed. Ellie helped George and Charlotte up as well and soon the bed was packed with as many kids as a grand queen size would fit. They nestled themselves between the cushions, between Elizabeth and Philip, making themselves at home. She even moved to give Ellie space to climb onto the bed beside her.

"That's it. There you go, get comfy." Elizabeth put one arm around Ellie and the other around Isla, who had found herself in the most prominent position between the Queen and the Duke. "Sydney, bring in more chairs please."

"Right away your Majesty." Sydney disappeared out of the room along with a dozen footmen.

"What's going on Gran?" Harry asked as the adults gathered around the edges of the bed.

"I'm in the mood for some family time, that's all."

Amazing, this is all I was hoping for.

The family bundled around, confused. Her dad and uncle competed over a chair that eventually William won. He placed it down beside Ellie and sat down, with Kate sitting on his lap. More chairs were brought in, along with a projector and screen that was set up at the foot of the bed. The whole family cheered as some old home movies started playing on the screen. A young Elizabeth was feeding a giraffe from some sort of enclosure and laughing at the camera when the giraffe licked her hand.

"Ah, now this is from Kenya In 1952. We stayed in this lovely treetop hotel and could film all the animals down below."

Soon everyone was completely distracted, smiling and laughing as they watched some of the Queen's earliest home videos. Ellie spotted a few yawns every now and then, but for the most part everyone had forgotten how badly they had all slept and how early in the morning it really was. Elizabeth had energised them, but in the back of everyone's minds was the fact that she had never been this casual, even in private. Her bedroom had never been so busy, and to set aside the bowing and curtseying? They were all so used to doing it that the idea of not doing it was completely unheard of. Even the youngest of them were already getting used to doing it.

It was clear that, as well as she looked, Elizabeth was anticipating not being able to do anything like this ever again.

The thought brought a tear to Ellie's eye, which she wiped away with the sleeve of her nightgown.

"Eleanor." Elizabeth patted her arm, speaking quietly so that nobody else would hear her.

Ellie pretended she hadn't cried and instead smiled at a hippopotamus on the screen. "Yes granny?"

"I want to give you something." Elizabeth reached over Ellie and grabbed a small red and gold box from the bedside table. She flipped open the lid to reveal a golden 'E', the Queen's monogram, attached to a thin golden chain. It was sitting snugly in its original box and was clearly something that her great grandmother had planned to give her.

"Oh Granny." Ellie said, covering her mouth.

"I don't wear it as much as I used to, but it's yours now." Elizabeth said, taking it out of the box and placing it around Ellie's neck.

"Granny you don't need to..." Ellie told her as she helped move her hair out of the way.

"I don't need to, no, but I can remember my name well enough by now. It can represent Eleanor just as well as it represented Elizabeth."

Ellie stared at the necklace, admiring it, affectionately rubbing the E with her thumb. Elizabeth adjusted it for her and positioned it so that it was perfectly square on her chest. "My father gave it to me when I was a young girl. It's been with me ever since."

Ellie could see tears building in her great grandmother's eyes as she stared at the necklace. She could tell how much it meant to her and what a big deal it was to be handing it over. Ellie hugged her again, burying her head in Elizabeth's fuzzy dressing gown.

"Thank you, Granny, I love it." Ellie whispered. The rest of the family didn't notice, their attention was still focused on Elizabeth and Philip in what looked like Balmoral thirty years before.

"I want you to keep hold of it, treasure it, so I'll always be with you."

"I will, I promise."

Elizabeth directed her attention to William and then to Charles, then whispered in Ellie's ear. "You'll have to wait a while, let the boys have the crown back for a bit. Us women will have it back eventually and I'm glad it'll be you, you'll do splendidly." She patted Ellie's arm once again.

She looked so proud of her. So expectant of her greatness. Ellie didn't want to tell her about all the doubts she had, all the things she'd been thinking. She just wanted to live up to that hype.

"I'll try granny, I will. I don't think I could do it without you there." She said.

"That'll give you enough time to find something you're passionate about and stick with it." Elizabeth nodded knowingly at her.

Had she been talking to my teachers as well?

"Always be a leader Eleanor, be compassionate. Don't just hold the power, but use it to do good everywhere you go, in everything you do."

Ellie didn't want to say anything, just in case her worries started flooding out. It was clear that Granny was getting her last words in, so she just wanted to sit with her and listen to her. One last time.

"You can be great. I know it." Elizabeth reassured her as Ellie lay against her, feeling like a little girl once again. They both laughed at what came on screen next, a more recent video of her and Alex riding horses at Windsor with her cousins Mia and Lena.

"And for goodness sake!" Elizabeth suddenly spoke much louder so that everyone could hear, all of their eyes turning worriedly towards Granny. "Get these girls back in the saddle, it's been too long since I last saw Eleanor riding."

The whole room erupted into laughter, even the footmen were chuckling.

Over the next few hours Elizabeth would cycle through everyone in the family as they all took turns in different chairs. When Ellie left briefly to go to the toilet, she found her cousins James and Isla had stolen her spot beside Granny, so she sat in Kate's lap instead, sharing a small ornate lounging chair with both her parents. She listened as Elizabeth gave advice and told stories to everyone, and lowered her voice to speak more privately just as she'd done with Ellie.

The whole family could tell what was going on, but they didn't let that ruin the mood. They had food brought in, bowls of cereal, plates of toast and fruit. Somehow so much time had passed that they were eventually having lunch, all in the Queen's bedchamber. It was completely unheard of, but it was truly a family gathering. All protocols had gone out the window, they could just relax and enjoy each other's company, laughing at old home movies together and covering the carpet in breadcrumbs.

Every now and then something would appear on the screen that would remind Elizabeth of something, and she would talk over the footage like a commentator. Ellie always disliked when her parents would talk over a film, preferring to immerse herself in the story. Today she was all ears, savouring every word her great grandmother spoke.

"Charles, I know you've been waiting around for a long time, but always be on your toes, always be ready."

Charles, who was sitting on the sofa beside Camilla, nodded thoughtfully. "Yes Mummy."

"I expect by now." Elizabeth let out a short giggle. "You're quite prepared."

"Yes indeed, you've raised me very well Mummy." He took Camilla's hand in his and squeezed it gently. Ellie watched them as they left the room together, whispering quietly.

They probably have all sorts of plans for when they become the new heads of the family. Camilla will be in charge of all the ladies, oh lord.

"And William, be patient, follow in your fathers footsteps. Catherine, you look after him."

"Definitely Gran" Kate said, affectionately touching Wills arm.

"And Harry, Emma, make sure this family doesn't stay too old fashioned. We must keep up with the times. I don't want to find out later that you're all living on the streets."

"On it, granny." Harry came up and patted her hand before making his way out. Savannah immediately stole his spot beside Emma.

"And kids, you all need to stay together, stay connected. You're our next generation." Elizabeth stared at each of the kids. Alex, James, Mia, Lena and all the younger royals. Her gaze was particularly piercing when she lingered on the teens, those who would one day be the leaders.

"Could be our best yet." Philip laughed. The older royals around the room all collectively frowned.

"Now now." Elizabeth swatted Philips arm.

More hours passed, or what felt like hours. The films they watched were so out of order that Ellie quickly lost track of time. One minute they were watching Elizabeth and Philip in India and the next they were watching Emma and Harry in Florida at the Invictus Games. Food was constantly being brought in, along with drinks and milkshakes. One after another they worked their way through the royal collection of home movies, picking at random or voting together on what they wanted to watch. When a recording of James' christening finished, Harry went up to the collection of discs and started searching.

"Next one Gran?" he asked.

No response came, the laughter and joy in the room faded quickly. Everyone looked towards the bed still expecting an answer, but as the silence continued they all began to realise what was happening.

Elizabeth was lying back, her eyes closed, her body still.

"Granny?" Ellie asked, her voice breaking.

The tears started to break out all around her. The whole room stood up, surrounding the bed. James and Isla who were lying next to Elizabeth gently shook her, trying to wake her up and failing. They moved out of the way when Philip leaned over and kissed his wife's head, staying in the bed beside her whilst everyone else got off. Charles rushed back into the room after sensing the change in mood, hearing the crying. He knelt by the Queen's bedside and kissed her hand, tears rolling down his cheeks as he felt her pulse at the wrist. Ellie leaned in close to see what he was doing.

If the Queen's still body wasn't enough, Charles' defeated look definitely was. One of the footmen sprinted out of the room as soon as he saw Charles' face.

She must have passed quietly when we were all laughing, it couldn't have been painful, or we would have noticed. At least there's that.

Nobody knew what to do. They had all grown so used to Elizabeth being around for so long. Even with all the preparation for her eventual death, it didn't stop Ellie from feeling completely empty inside. All they could do was huddle around the bed, sniffling as they watched Philip make sure his wife looked comfortable.

"Ah, Archbishop, thank you for coming so soon." Charles announced. His voice felt so loud and disturbing, but only because they had all been so quiet.

"Of course, sir. Such a sad day." The Archbishop of Canterbury spoke solemnly as he made his way to the front of the bed. Harry helped move the children away to make space.

It was all moving so fast. The Archbishop lead the whole family in prayer and gave Elizabeth her last rites while Ellie watched, teary eyed and holding her sisters hand. Just like that the greatest Queen her country had ever had was gone, reigning for so long that most of them had lost count of how long it had been. A world without Elizabeth had always felt so far away, almost impossible to imagine, but it was here now.

The Archbishop looked to Charles, everyone looked to Charles. She could tell that all he wanted to do was cry, to mourn his mother, but in that moment, he had to be strong, his grief had to be put on hold.

"Long live the King." Philip said, still holding his wife's hand. Despite the sadness, he still sounded a bit proud.

Charles was momentarily speechless. Ellie grabbed his hand and held it tight, wanting to let him know that they were all there with him. He looked down at her with his other hand on his heart, then looked around the room, puffed up his chest and spoke with as much determination as he could manage.

"I'll make her proud. We all will."

The End

For now!

#fanfic #emma watson #kate middleton #prince william #royalfanficcentral #royalfanficcollection #update #creative

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sassysweetstories · 6 years

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Request: “soul-mate au where you feel the other’s emotions. Lydia rejected Stiles and he thought for the longest time that they were soul-mates only to find Lydia with someone else. AND HE’S SUPER SAD AND THE READER CAN FEEL IT!!”

Ship: mentions of previous Lydia x Stiles, Stiles x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, flashbacks, fluff, description of panic attack, minor kissing, emotion sharing, blood, fighting, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners.

Tagged for all and AU’s: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317 @bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist@beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19 @violence-and-velvet @ordinarygirlmeetsfantasticworld @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

Stiles P.O.V

[5 months ago]

When I looked into her beautiful hazel eyes, everything just made sense. Or, at least I thought it did. Her gorgeous strawberry blonde hair fell perfectly onto her shoulders as her hips moved from side to side. How was she always so elegant and regal? Nearly seven years, I’ve known that I loved Lydia Martin. I would do anything for her, give up everything just to see her smile. And we were happy, laughing and joking and bickering like friends, hopefully couples do. The government said soul-mates have something to do with our genetic coding while others said it was because of the gods and goddess who wield it. For a little while I thought it was rubbish. That was until Lydia Martin waltzed into my life.

For a long time I had wanted to confess to her that she was my soul-mate. There was no doubt in my mind that she was the one person who brought me joy in times of stress. However as time went on, I was starting to lose hope. Lydia’s smile was less when she was with me, not as warm and open as usual. The more cold she became made me frightened and nervous. But I had spent nearly seven years wondering if she felt the same. But if everyone says soul-mates feel and know when they look at one another, why wasn’t she more excited? And then I wish I hadn’t wondered.

“Stiles, I don’t love you. I don’t even really like you. I only talked to you because Jackson left me and I needed attention.” She snapped at me one day in the middle of the hallway. But it didn’t make sense. “Lydia, I thought- I thought we-” I ask, voice hoarse but hopeful as I feel my heart slowly crumbling. I can’t breath. I feel like I’m suffocating as she mercilessly says, “Stiles, get over yourself. There was nothing between us to begin with. You were just infatuation with me. I’ve found my soul-mate. And he isn’t you.” She turned over her shoulder, her strawberry blonde hair whipping around in the process. A thing in which I once adored but now makes me sick to my stomach. Turning away from the crowded hallway, I push and nudge everyone out of the way to get some place safe. A bathroom, somewhere out of the public eye.

My breathing is choppy and rigid as I nearly fall into the family bathroom, somehow managing to lock it in the process of my sudden panic attack. My vision is disoriented and blurry as I attempt to reach the sink in hopes that some water could suppress this hellish nightmare that starts to form and fester around me. Everything’s turning black, dark spots plague my vision and my heart feels like it’s about to jump out of my chest, hoping to escape the inevitable. It’s all too much. The sudden odd mixture of cold and hotness, the straight up rejection from the girl whom I thought to have loved. From what little I can make out, a set of hands shakily reach for the handles. It takes me a second to realize that they’re in fact mine. Before I know it, my face is immersed within the water, patting the back of my sweaty neck.

Your P.O.V

One minute I’m fine and the next I’m heaving for air, like it’ll never come back and it’s my last chance to grab as much of it as I can before it’s too late. I know exactly what this is. A panic attack. I’ve been on the wrong side of it before but this time there wasn’t a reason for it to have triggered, or for me to feel the way that I do. I’m at a small gathering when suddenly the room becomes too packed, like it has shrunk down to the size of a teacup. Usually I’m fine at parties, hell, I’m the party at parties. But right now it feels like someone’s taken a barrel of water and shoved it down my throat. And yet my lungs feel dry and small, almost too tiny for my normal size. Quickly I slip from the bodies and thumping speakers that suddenly have no sound whatsoever, leaning against into the walls as I search in hopes of a secluded area in the house to let this pass.

Dark spots bounce around my blurry vision as I somehow sneak into the nearest empty bathroom, fiddling with the lock until I hear a successful click. I fall to the ground, flicking the lights in the process to a dim setting. For some weird reason, I’m an odd mixture of sadness and heartbreak. Like I lost a love or a family member of some sort. But I hadn’t to my recollection. It was as if someone was ripping out my insides, putting them back together, only to do it all over again. I can’t stop the tears from escaping as my choppy breathing makes mist form across the white marble floor. Propping my body up on my elbow, I can barely hold up my weight. For the first time in a long time, I feel as though a massive anvil crushes my chest and lungs, tearing me apart, limb by limb. It’s all too much.

[Now]

It’s been a few months since my panic attack and those months following, I was unbelievably sad. My drastic mood change concerned my friends and family greatly. That was until they came up with a solution that everyone wouldn’t stop talking about, especially my friends. “It’s your soul-mate!” Exclaimed my friend, Dakota, in the middle of our favorite coffee shop. She was hell-bent on said theory, believed it wholeheartedly, too. But it didn’t make sense. People get waves of sadness all the time? Besides, if that were true, how the hell would I even find my soul-mate if we’re feeling the others emotions? How can I locate him? I had hundreds of questions about the theory, all of which weren’t being answered, nor did I expect them to be. Dakota kept on with her sch-peel that I gotta have faith in the universe or whatever.

But honestly, I wasn’t feeling up to it. This sadness was really getting me down and I hadn’t a clue as to why. Later that day, I went home to find a series of envelopes resting on the kitchen table. Mom must’ve brought the mail in before going out. Rummaging through to see if any belonged to me, I pause on one envelope and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach, face going pale. University College of Admissions. Oh god, this was it. My acceptance letter or my decline.. There’s a fifty fifty chance for either and I can’t breath. I’m tearing apart the package with shaky needy fingers. I toss the outer layer in the trash, holding my breath in anticipation. I open the paper all the way and read.

Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),

Welcome to the family! We are happy to congratulate you on your acceptance to...

I let the breath out and jaw go slack, gasping in shock. I-I was accepted.. I read it aloud this time and for some reason it feels more real when I hear myself say the words I’ve worked so hard to achieve. I was accepted into the school of my dreams. For the first time in months, my sadness has completely washed away. Overcome by joy. I worked my ass off, fighting through hours of tears, school, a job, bullies, and everything in between to get to this one significant moment. For the first time in a long time, I felt whole and enough, that my time and effort and energy was not overlooked. In fact, it felt like someone had put me on a pedestal for everyone to see the greatness and success I’ve achieved all on my own.

Stiles P.O.V

When I wake up this morning, I expect to feel as I have felt for the past few months, cold and heartbroken. But for some odd reason, I’m overcome by a sense of joy that I’m brought to automatic tears, happy tears. After everything that’s happened, I have no reason to be or feel happy, and yet, I can’t stop myself from grinning from ear to ear, almost like a kid on Christmas. I cry and laugh, holding my pillow close to my chest before turning on some upbeat music which only make my happiness grow. Why I was feeling this way made little to no sense and made me confused but I was too busy floating on cloud nine to actually care. For some reason, I felt more proud of myself than ever. Like I had put enough time into things such as school, and work, and saving people that I felt warm, almost fuzzy with joy.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not thinking about Lydia, I’m thinking about me. I’m thinking about my accomplishments and hard work as a member of the pack. I’m going over the moments in my head in which I was independent and confident in my abilities despite my overall clumsiness. The moments where I saved lives, including my own whilst fighting against a threat that was seemingly impossible to defeat. It was like all my reason to wallow had vanished. Lydia was seriously missing out on being with me. But for once, I’m happy that she’s not my soul-mate. If she was, I would have been straight up miserable, following her around like a lost puppy would. I would have succumbed to her manipulative ways and done anything for her. I giggle at the idea of freedom, that I’m my own person. It’s like a blanket of warmth that washes over me.

But I had to ask the one question that boggled my mind. Why the sudden change in mood? It was not something small, in fact, it was beyond drastic. It was the biggest mood jump I’ve ever had. The next few days, my attitude change shocks not only me, but everyone, as-well. Scott pulls me aside, eyeing my odd, overly happy behavior. “What the hell’s gotten into you?” Even though it’s nice not wallowing in my self pity anymore, the question does scare me because I don’t know the answer to it. I shake my head, still smiling, unable to suppress the joy. “I have no clue but I can’t stop smiling. I don’t know, I just feel- I feel like I’ve accomplished so much. That I’m stronger than I think, that I worked hard to get where I am right now, ya know? I just kinda realized, I don’t need Lydia. That I got where I am because of you and my dad.”

He nodded and hypothesized the most ridiculous thing in the world. “OH MY GOD! IT HAS TO BE YOUR SOUL-MATE?!” I may be sporting a smile but I can’t help but roll my eyes in detest. But the more I think about it, the less wild it sounds. Lydia had a soul-mate? Maybe that’s why she was shifting moods so often when we were around one another? I take to the internet to search for more answers. When my eyes fall onto the most recent news article, I find myself scanning every words at hyper-speed, eating up as much information on the topic that I can. If soul-mates are real, could this possible have something to do with my drastic emotional fluctuation? I have ten websites open before a new body enters my room. “Son, what are you doing?” Dad asks, leaning against the door wall. “I’m researching soul-mates.” I reply shortly, too immersed in my work to focus on any else.

All of a sudden, my chair is being pulled back and away from the computer. “Dad- wait- no- what are you-” When he turns the chair to face him, he sits on my bed with a faint smile. “Why don’t you ask your old man instead of some stupid website?” I can’t help but look at him in shock, jaw to the floor as I gape at him. “Wait, you mean they’re real? Soul-mates are real?” He shook his head, laughing before picking up the picture of my mom and him that sat atop my nighttime dresser. “How do you think I met your mother?” Dad looks down at the photo with such light and love in his eyes, I’m taken back by the simple yet delicate moment. I shut up fast, wanting for him to continue. “How did you know she was your soul-mate?” He glanced up at me with a small blush before looking back at the photo, confessing.

“It all started when I was around your age. I had gotten out of a really rough relationship with this girl who I was certain to be my soul-mate, only to find out that she had been seeing hers behind my back. In all honesty, I couldn’t really be mad. The cheating was bad but they were soul-mates, didn’t make up for the pain though. But I was so heartbroken, I didn’t leave my house for nearly two weeks. And then at the two week mark, my mood completely changed. I was overjoyed and happier than I’d ever been. Except, I had no reason be. My heart had been completely broken but for some reason, I felt fine, more than fine. It was as if everything around me changed, and all I could see were the positives. It was the most angelic feeling in the whole world, nearly indescribable. Not long after, a few days I think, I met her, your mother. And from that day forth, they were the best moments of my life.”

When he’s done talking, my heart hurts with happy thoughts of my father and my mother, hoping, praying, that someday I will have what they had. It surely explained the feelings I’d been getting but I’ve spent too much of my life getting my hopes up, only to be let down, so I don’t. “How did you know it was her for sure?” I can’t help but ask. He looks from me and then down to the picture again before replying. “Soul-mates share emotions. Once I laid eyes on her, for a split second, everything around me went silent. It was as if my heart was finally whole, and I could breath once more. It’s hard to describe but, you just know.”

Your P.O.V

I have to take a knee to withhold this brand new feeling. My heart is filled up to the brim with love and hope, so much of it I could barely breathe. It wasn’t a bad feeling, actually it was far from it. I can’t stop smiling and I know it’s not because of the acceptance letter. That flame has died and I’ve made peace with it. This, this is something entirely new. Maybe Dakota was right? This could actually be some weird soul-mate thing? I cave in and go to the internet for some answers, scanning and searching through every article that I could possibly get my hands on. Soul-mates Share Emotions: The Literal Bond of Love. One article reads. I can’t help but click on it, fascinated by the title alone.

“Studies have shown that soul-mates are becoming prominent now, more than ever before! Participants within the study have described their experience as sharing emotions, some of those people changing so drastically that the other’s mood adjusts in the same fashion until the day the two meet. On average, soul-mates will meet within the year their emotions start to inter-mix. If you are looking to find how or when you know whom your soul-mate is, participants have described the feeling as being noiseless and ethereal. That when their eyes meet, time almost freezes and they just knew in their hearts that that person was their soul-mate. Wanna learn more? Click for more!”

I get out of the tab and lock down the computer. That night I can’t sleep, still bubbly from- well, I don’t really know why I’m so giddy. I’m not saying this is the case, but it very well could be my soul-mate. I hope he’s okay and in a good mood. Lord knows I wouldn’t have wanted to feel what he felt, but evidently I did. But right now, I’m happy to be sharing emotions with him. It’s almost calming and warm to sense what he’s feeling right now. Whatever happened or whomever he spoke to, definitely changed something within him, and maybe within me, too. That soul-mate thing didn’t sound as crazy as I’ve made it out to be. Whether that is my own thought or not, I found myself growing giddy at the thought of finally meeting him, or whomever he was.

Stiles P.O.V

Caffeine wasn’t exactly what I needed right now, especially considering the fact that I’m wide awake. Something about today just felt right, and it wasn’t because of what my dad and I talked about last night. Glancing around the small, dimly lit cafe, I can’t help but smile at the warm scent that’s greeted my nostrils. It’s too early for a lot of people to be here and I like it that way. I don’t come in here often to notice its beauty and simplicity but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it. I’m not even fully inside before a new feeling washes over me, except, it’s not much of a feeling. It’s nearly impossible to decipher, I don’t even think it’s an emotion at all. I can’t quite put my finger on it until the room grows suspiciously quiet. I can’t hear the obnoxiously loud late machines churning or gurgling to life.

Nor can I hear the shuffling of boots or orders, names being thrown left and right despite the time of day. It’s completely still, no birds, no noise. It’s so serene. I’m meeting her. This is it. And just like my dad said, I look around the almost barren cafe until I meet her gaze. She’s already looking at me and I feel like my heart’s going to explode out of my chest. My pops was right. She looks absolutely breathing, straight up ethereal, like an angel fallen from heaven. When I look into her deep (y/e/c)’s, they’re the only thing I see. My heart feels warm and whole and beating a thousand miles a minute. “Hi..” I manage to say despite my obvious shock. She smiles, a single tear escaping from her right eye. Instinctively, I wipe the tear away, resting my hand comfortably on her cheek.

“Hi.. I’m (Y/n).. Your soul-mate..” She says softly. I’m so overwhelmed by emotion that tears escape from my eyes, wrapping my hands in her face, I can’t help but say sweetly. “You’re my soul-mate.. I have a soul-mate.. Oh my god.. I’m the luckiest man alive..” (Y/n) giggles again and I swear she sounds like an angel sent from heaven above. “And I’m Stiles.. Your soul-mate..” When she looks at me, her eyes gleam under the sun that peaked through the cafe windows. “Well Stiles,-” (Y/n) says smoothly. “How ‘bout you and I get to know one another over some coffee and the newest Star Wars movie. But I’m not gonna lie, I’ve already seen two times.” I can’t help but giggle. God, this woman’s going to be the death of me. “Same. And I would be honored.” Looking back at her, my dad was right. Linked emotion gone but love filled my soul.

(I hope you guys liked it!! I really appreciate the feedback! Please comment below!!)

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