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half-dead-ham · 1 year

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Friends of a future

Soooo, instead of making continuations of all of the rest of my fics, I have instead decided to write another plot bunny!

I think this'll be my last bit of writing for now, as I wanna prepare for ship week. I got a few interesting things planned for it, so keep an eye out for some cool fics!

Ao3; [here]

~~~~~

Danny didn’t know where he was.

Not that that was completely abnormal for him. He’d been tossed through enough portals and rips in space-time that at this point he didn’t question it too much. But this was a little different, if the similar consistency of smog and looming neomodern architecture was anything to go by.

Not to mention that this shift was completely out of left field, usually he had some idea of how he got to a different time and/or place. Danny did think his being here in what he could only guess to be a future Gotham had something to do with where he was before, at least. So what happened before?

Well.

Danny had gotten a call. A call from the Justice League. A call to help deal with one of Lex Luthor’s newest inventions to deal with Superman and his posse of super friends with some sort of annihilation ray. That was pretty normal, as Danny had been on the roster for about a year and a half by now.

They had beaten Luthor and his goons with only a little bit of a struggle, as alongside Danny, they had also called Shazam and a few other unorthodox heavy hitters to help deal with whatever Lex had up his sleeve. They had taken out Lex early on, and after they did the men Luthor had hired ran for the hills. Hopefully they still got their pay for this job.

What else… They had just regrouped, and were waiting for the B team to come and safely dismantle the device Luthor had paraded around when it went off… Oh.

It must’ve hit him.

Or he moved someone out of the way of the beam? Everything was a little fuzzy at that point.

What did Luthor say in his villain monologue about what his newest death ray did? Something about transferring particles to a dimension where they couldn’t arrange into anything of substance? Something along those lines. Maybe. Danny wasn’t really listening. But he does remember a stray magic blast hitting the machine, with some worrying sparks coming off it for a bit afterwards, so maybe its function was messed up a little because of that. Also Danny being made of an extradimensional substance that spans the multiverses might have something to do with it…

The pain in Danny's back flared, reminding him where he was currently. Right. Gray sky, smells of smog, tall glass buildings and flying cars, billboards for unrecognizable products. Focus Fenton, focus.

Reaching up, Danny grabbed the ledge of the crater he must’ve made as he fell. He sat up, noticing that he was currently on the roof of a building. Ancients, he hoped he didn’t have to pay for that. He peeled himself out of the Danny-shaped hole and stood, taking a better look astound with his better vantage. It seemed to be almost sunrise, if the mornings here were anything like the mornings in his Gotham, the smog that constantly covered the sky turning a lighter shade of gray to his right. So morning, maybe. New dimensions had weird natural laws sometimes, but for now let's go with morning.

The flying cars were new, nothing like anything Danny’s seen while universe hopping for the League or CW, so another checkmark for this being a reality he hadn’t been to yet.

Letting his feet leave the ground and turning invisible, Danny floated off the roof and towards the street below. Not many people were out walking at what he could only guess to be god awfully early, so the streets were quiet. The multi layered roads threw him off for a little, but he supposed if you had flying cars you didn’t really need roads. He wondered if this was actually the future, or if this was just some place more technologically advanced. (Did that matter? Was there a difference? Why was Danny so fixated on the fact there were flying cars here when he regularly meets with superheroes in a satellite?)

“Good morning Neo-Gotham! Beautiful weather we're having, expect partially cloudy with a seven percent chance of rain!”

Danny’s head snapped to one of the display TV’s on the other side of the street, the announcer reading off the morning weather report. The TV display gave him good information within a few minutes of listening in after moving nearer to it.

He was in Gotham, at least, a future version of it.

It was a Tuesday.

And he was at least thirty years ahead of his own time.

Thirty years… Danny shook his head, no time to run down the rabbit hole of where he and his family might be at this point. For all he knew, he might not even exist in this universe.

He flew straight up to better get his bearings. Even with the different look, Gotham was still familiar to him. Practically a third home away from home with how often he visited the city. A final look across the horizon and Danny started flying. There was one more thing he had learned from that TV.

There was a Bat in this Gotham too.

The trip to the Wayne estate was easy, though its look in this dimension was noticeably more gothic than the one he was used to. Even in the morning partial sun the house's figure cast an imposing shadow in the grounds. Still, the place said Wayine on the gate, so he knew there was someone in there he could plead his case to. Maybe he’d even get to see a grown up Damian. Now wouldn’t that be fun, a Damian Wayne all grown up and CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Danny had to snort at the idea.

He floated himself through the front door, taking a moment to observe the almost familiar surroundings. Everything was… off. It was like someone had someone read a description of the manor's interior, then built a new manor off the description alone. It was large, with cavernous high ceilings in neutral grays, with entrances leading off to a sitting room and study. There were stairs and a hallway leading further into the manor and to the second floor, and Danny knew if he phased down he’d find a bat-shaped secret hiding in the basement.

The whole place was eerily quiet though, and empty, and if Danny looked close enough he would be able to find dust on the frames hung on the walls. Alfred would never let it get dusty in here, and there would always be at least one person up by now. Maybe they’d all moved out? They weren’t really the ones he was here to see anyways.

Now… would a certain Bat be up and about in the cave by now?

Knowing Bruce, probably.

Danny let his feet drift to the floor, then through the carpet. He sank through the ground, until he hit the pocket of caves hidden underneath the estate, illuminated only by the monitor and display case lights of Batman’s souvenirs.

“Damn, even the cave got the uncanny valley treatment…” Danny grumbled to himself.

He must’ve come at a bad time, as just before he regained tangibility a batarang flew through him, rebounding on one of the stalactites behind him.

“Woah!” He exclaimed as he watched the throwing weapon clatter to the concrete floor. Danny whipped his head around to where the batarang had come from, only to see-

“Holy shit, you’re so old!”

A glower was all Danny received for his comment from the man sitting back down in his chair. The man -who Danny really hoped was Bruce, or his comment would be really insensitive- was built, wide in the shoulders and bulky, like he worked out regularly. Despite this he was hunched, shoulders slightly dropped as he held a cane in one hand. His gray hair and wrinkles made sense for his age, but Danny jokingly wondered just how early he had started getting that colour.

“Phantom,” Danny perked up at that. Bruce knew who he was, that was a good sign.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t come back to the mortal realm after you died,” Bruce added as he turned back to face the batcomputer.

That was… Damn.

… At least he knew there was another version of himself in this universe? Positive thoughts, Fenton, think positive thoughts.

“Yeah, uh, ‘bout that, Bruce…” The older man kept his chair at a half turn, keeping one eye on Danny from his periphery as the ghost descended to the floor.

Danny scratched at the back of his neck as he walked forward, stopping just far away enough that he wouldn’t make the bat overly paranoid. He didn’t know where to look as he explained this next bit, so he let his gaze wander over the memorabilia as he spoke.

“So I’m not the Phantom you know?” He started, getting a single raised eyebrow in response. “Like, I’m probably at least somewhat similar since you recognized me, but… Y’know… League stuff came up, and I got hit with something…”

“You’re saying that you are a Phantom from a different universe to this one, that was most likely hit with something that transported you here, to this dimension?” Bruce filled in. Danny smiled at that, letting his gaze rest on Bruce again.

There was one thing you could always count on a bat for; their sharp minds and ability to read inbetween the lines.

The half-ghost snapped his fingers and pointed at the seated bat, “Exactly!”

Bruce just narrowed his stare as he inspected the being before him, taking a more in-depth look with their decreased distance. One long inspection later and the bat finally asks, “Why do you think I can help you?”

Slightly confused, Danny deflated. “Uhhh, ‘cause you’re Batman? Even if you can’t help, there's still the League we can contact. One of the magic users has to have a spell that could send me back, right?”

Bruce swings his chair back to face the batcomputer, hiding his expression away from Danny's view.

“The League disbanded years ago, Phantom. I’m retired.”

“What‽” Danny exclaims. “How are you retired‽ Everyone thought you’d be the caped crusader till you keeled over, and even then you’d fight out of your grave if you had to!”

A huff was heard from behind the back of the chair. “I had a minor heart attack,” Bruce lied. Danny could smell the lie too, which meant that even for Batman it wasn’t good.

Danny sighed. As much as he knew that was a lie, he also knew that right now Bruce was the only one that could possibly help him at that moment. He didn’t know what had happened to the other members of the League, and if what the man in front of him said was true (and that is a very real possibility) he wouldn’t even have a good way to contact them if he tried. Danny could let a blatant lie slide if it meant getting help.

“Okay, so I got no Batman, no League, and no sure way to get home. My only options are to try a random portal in this dimensions’ Zone or wait to see if someone will come to my rescue.” Even as he mumbled them Danny knew neither option sounded good. Going into this dimension's version of the Ghost Zone would run the risk of not only him getting lost but also him finding himself from this universe. Danny didn’t know what this dimension’s version of him was like, but he could think of a few reasons for why he would swear off the mortal realm, none of which he particularly liked. As for getting lost…

But the ‘stay where you are till help arrives’ method might not work in his favor either, if it was just that one blast that hit him that was changed by the magic, and not the whole weapon. Using the thing again would run the risk of someone ending up in a dimension they couldn’t be in, a thought that did very unhappy things for his core. That leaguer would effectively die trying to save Danny, and it would eat him up inside if that ever happened. Even if they did manage to get someone to this dimension using the weapon, that still left them with no way out. The person that came here to get him would be stuck here, same as Danny, unless they come with a fix-it to bring them home too.

Who knows how long that would be in the first place. Days? Weeks?

“Phantom,” an unusually soft tone broke Danny from his thousand yard stare. The ghost refocused to see Bruce giving him an uncharacteristically soft look. He tried to give a smile to the old bat, but he was sure Bruce wasn't fooled by it.

“What’s up, B?” Danny asked with forced levity, to which the softness only grew.

“You don’t have to figure this out on your own, you know. I may not be Batman anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m above helping someone in trouble.”

“Even for someone you don’t actually know?” Danny hated how wet his voice had suddenly become.

“If you’re anything like the Phantom of my universe,” Bruce gave a small grin. “Then I’d really just be returning the favour.”

There were things behind that smile, stories and memories shared with someone who shared Danny’s face. If it were anyone but Bruce offering aid like this Danny would almost say it was out of pity. But Batman didn’t pity people, not like this.

Danny chuckled wetly, clearing his throat before he spoke next. “Heh, you must be getting soft in your old age, B. I gotta remember to tease my Bruce about it when I get back.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at the joke as he hefted himself out of his chair. “Come on, Phantom,” he called behind him as he shuffled to the stairs. “We need to get your cover story set up.”

Danny just grinned away the damp in his eyes as he followed behind the older man, changing forms as he walked up the stairs.

~~~~~

Terry had just come through the door to Wayne manor when he heard a voice. It was unusual, as regularly he met Mr. Wayne in the cave or outside when he had to chauffeur him to Wayne Powers Enterprise. The voice sounded young, maybe just a bit deeper than his. Terry followed it through the halls, keeping quiet in case it was just some robber trying to make a quick buck of a billionaire's stuff.

“So you really think you can get paperwork for me while I stay here? Wouldn’t it be harder to forge an identity in the future than easier?”

“You’d be surprised, technology has only gotten easier to hack into as advancements continued, and Wayne-Powers is usually at the forefront of that development nowadays.” That was… Mr. Wayne? And he sounded almost… Happy? Terry turned the corner to the kitchen, very confused at the tone his employer was using for the unfamiliar voice.

Two heads turn to him from a small table by the window, two mugs of coffee steaming in front of them. Mr. Wayne was probably the most relaxed Terry had seen him outside of his public persona, just ‘cause he was sitting next to this, this, this guy.

The dude was tall, and skinny. But like, the kind of skinny you get when you run or swim a lot? The kind of skinny that gave a guy lean muscles, even if said dude was trying to hide those muscles under a baggy sweater and loose jeans. Honestly he looked like he came out of one of his mom’s old yearbooks, with the old clothes and haircut, would fit right in with kids from when she was young, it was weird. The guy looked him over, eyebrows raised in mild surprise before turning to Mr. Wayne, eyes still trained on Terry.

“So this is your new assistant? He looks… different to how I would imagine.” Terry bristled at the comment, and this guy just smirked at him in response! The nerve of this guy!

“Terry,” Mr. Wayne redirects his gaze warning laced in his tone. “This is Danny Fenton, he’ll be staying with me for the foreseeable future and starting as my bodyguard.”

Bodyguard? Bodyguard‽ Mr. Wayne doesn’t need a bodyguard! He was Batman! The guy could still throw Terry on his ass on a good day! Why would he hire this skinny dreg to be his bodyguard?

“Is this telling me you’re replacing me, Mr. Wayne? Cause I’m sure I can take this dreg any day of the week, just give me a chance!” Terry begged as the two sat at the table just looked at him. After a few beats Danny burst out laughing; fully clutching his gut, tears in his eyes, gasping laughing.

It was a little insulting.

“Ancients! Oh Ancients, it's just like what I heard about when Tim and Jason met! Holy crap!” Danny managed to squeeze out between gasps as Mr. Wayne pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This didn’t relieve Terry, but it did make him so much more confused.

“Terry,” Mr. Wayne huffed as Danny’s laughter started to die out. “Danny isn’t replacing you, he has his own hero persona. He’s simply going to be staying with me until he’s able to return from where he came from,” He explains.

Well that was a relief, Terry dropped his shoulders as he relaxed slightly, still staring at the guy sitting with Mr. Wayne. Now Terry just had questions, like what did Mr. Wayne mean by ‘returning Danny to where he came from’? And who was Jason?

Mr. Wayne stood, moving to put his coffee mug in the sink for washing later while Danny took a sip of what was left in his. Silence fell on the kitchen then, Terry stewing in his questions, Mr. Wayne shuffled off to his study, leaving Terry and Danny in the kitchen alone.

“So,” Terry drawls awkwardly as he moves to take up the spot on the table vacated by his employer. “You’re a hero?”

Danny snorts into his mug, “Yeah, I am.”

“Anyone I know?” Terry asks curiously. He’d met a few heroes since he started working for Mr. Wayne, but someone matching Danny's ice blue eyes and messy black hair didn’t fit anyone he knew.

“Not likely,” Danny replied with a huff. “Apparently in this dimension I’m a dead recluse, so even if you had seen me, you wouldn’t’ve recognized me.”

… What?

“The hell you mean ‘I’m a dead recluse’? You’re either one or the other, no way you can be both.” A ‘dead recluse’ made zero sense, maybe he died a recluse? Or he’s so reclusive that everyone thought he was dead?

Dany chuckled at the face Terry was making, laughing at his confusion. “Oh no, I’m definitely both,” he remarked. “Or, well, just one right now, I haven’t gone recluse yet and I hope I don’t for a while.” He added, glancing away with a thoughtful expression. Terry just scrunched his face up.

“No offence, dude, but you don’t look dead?” Could he take offence to that? Terry didn’t know how someone could look so alive while dead (or is he just messing with him by saying he’s dead?) but Mr. Wayne had mentioned in passing a few of his old colleagues that have come back from the dead, so maybe it wasn’t that rare?

“Also that doesn’t really answer my question,” he adds. “You’re a hero, and I’ve met a few heroes, so do I know you? Or of you maybe?”

Danny tilted his head in thought, twisting his lips as he considered. Terry waited on baited breath as the teen across from him thought.

“I don’t know?” He finally landed on. “Not really sure what you’re learning in school here, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” Danny took another sip of his coffee with a shrug.

Well that was unhelpful.

Terry was starting to get a weird feeling crawling up his spine, like someone pressing ice onto his back. Was he imagining things, or was Danny breathing slow? And not just like really deeply or holding his breath, no, like really slow. He just watched Danny for a minute, trying to count the seconds between the other teens' chest movements.

Yeah, way too slow.

Trying to forget that he noticed anything, he looked up, only to notice his hair. It was swaying slightly. The window behind them was closed, and there wasn’t a draft in the kitchen. Terry looked away entirely then, thinking he may have stayed up too late after patrol last night if he was starting to see things.

“Okaaayyy,” Terry drawled, deciding that just looking at the guy was gonna make him question his sanity. “Who’s Jason then?” He asks instead to get the conversation going again.

Danny froze, mug halfway to his lips. He turned to eye Terry with an odd expression, as though it should be obvious who Jason is.

“Jason? Y’know, Jason Todd?” Danny tries, only to receive a blank look from the other teen. “Jason Todd? The second Robin Jason Todd? The Red Hood Jason Todd? Crime lord and anti-hero extraordinaire?” Danny tried to keep up the lines, but nothing sparks recognition in Terry. Was there ever a crime lord in old Gotham named Red Hood?

“The second Robin was Tim Drake?” Terry corrects confusedly, receiving a shocked expression from the other end of the table.

“No? Tim was the third?” Now both of them were lost. They stared at each other, confused and concerned. Terry knew there was no third Robin, unless you counted commissioner Gordon as Batgirl, but it didn’t make a lot of sense if you counted her. Danny’s face twisted so much it looked like it hurt (and hurt to look at) until something passed and the look cleared, leaving comprehension, like a light blinked on over his head.

Terry followed as Danny stood up, heading straight for the hallway and leaving his mug on the counter, leaving Terry to clean it up. Putting the cup in the sink beside the other one, Terry hurried to catch up to the other teen, jogging as he saw Danny duck into Mr. Waynes’ study. He made it just in time to catch Danny walking through the grandfather clock.

Danny speed-walked into Bruce’s office, eyes set on the grandfather clock against the wall.

“Gonna go into the cave for a sec’ B, somethin’ I wanna double check.” He didn’t wait for an answer before he phased through the clock and descended the stone stairs into the basement. Jumping the last three stairs, Danny turned to face the costume display.

The five costume displays.

The old Batman suit, the Nightwing suit, the first Batgirl suit, and Tim’s Robin suit. The last case is empty, but that hardly matters.

“Where are the rest?” Danny mumbles to himself forlornly, searching for where the other suits might be stored. There’s nothing. No Orphan suit, No trace of Damian’s weapons, none of Jason’s extra helmets. Just the four suits in five cases.

“What do you mean, ‘where’s the rest?’” The new kid, -the one that looks like Damian but wrong- Terry panted as he half-ran down the stairs.

“I mean, where are the other suits? Where’s Orphan? Signal? Spoiler? Red Robin? Even if they moved out Bruce would still have a duplicate of their suit!” Danny’s voice was rising to something slightly hysterical, but there was just no way Bruce didn’t adopt the others here. It was Bruce's thing! He had an adoption problem, everyone knew that! His kids made fun of him for that!

“Those other heroes? I haven’t met them if they are, and I don’t know why you would think Mr. Wayne would keep their suits on display.”

Danny felt heavy at those words. Heavier than even before he died. His knees gave out under the weight and Danny sank to the floor, thoughts going a hundred miles an hour under a sheet of ice.

Terry didn’t know Red Robin even though he knew Tim? Did Bruce just never meet Jason as a kid? Damian’s mom just never dropped him off at the manor? Was he even born? Was Cass being used as a weapon for the League of Assassins here like she was going to be in his universe? Where was Steph? Were Duke's parents still in the hospital? Batwoman? BlueJay?

Did they just not exist here?

Danny’s ears were ringing too loud with his questions. He didn't notice Terry (Blue eyes, angular jaw and cheekbones like Damian but the eyeswerewrong) kneeling down in front of him, confused and worried, until he was flinching back from a hand on his shoulder. Groaning, Danny leaned back on one arm, grinding the other hand's palm into his eye to ground himself.

Now was not the time, Fenton. You do not freak out about universal differences on the floor of the batcave with some random Bruce adoptee in front of you. Get it together.

Taking a large breath in through his nose, Danny took a moment to clear those panicked thoughts, pushing them in a far off corner of his mind to be addressed later, preferably alone (probably while he was trying to sleep) and shutting a mental lid on them with an exhale through the mouth.

Okay. Okay okay okay okay. He can do this. Just, breathe.

Danny opened his eyes, not remembering when he closed them, to see Terry still crouched in front of him looking like he was trying not to look concerned. He was failing.

“Terry,” Danny murmured, “I’m going to say some names, and I want you to tell me, yes or no, if you know them.”

“But wh-”

“Just, please.” he stressed, “I just really need to know if you know these names.”

Terry’s face contorted, but he gave a nod. Giving himself a moment, Danny collected himself enough for whatever potential outcome he could receive with this. He can do this, it’ll be okay.

“Dick Grayson-” “Yes,”

“Stephanie Brown-” “No,”

“Barbara Gordon-” “Yes,”

“Cassandra Cain-” “No,”

“Duke Thomas-” “No,”

“Selina Kyle-” “Yes,”

“Kathrine Kane-” “No,”

Okay. That's four to three against him. Danny didn't know how to feel about that exactly, but it wasn't great. He had one more name on the tip of his tongue, but with how things were going he didn’t know if he should say it. If Damian did exist in this universe, then he had the potential to put everyone around him in danger just by saying his name, something he wouldn’t stand for. If he didn’t… Terry was loyal to Bruce, and Danny didn’t want to get the old man’s blood pressure up with any of the names attached to the youngest Robin. Damian was the last one to check, but could he deal with almost every one of the bats he was close with not existing here?

“Damian,” he pushed out after a long moment, unable to decide on the ‘Wayne’ or ‘Al Ghul’ surname.

“What, no last name?” Terry asked sarcastically, to which Danny gave an eye roll and a shake of his head.

Terry sighed, standing up to let his strained legs stretch. “Then that's a definite ‘no’. Was that the last one, or are we playing more guess who?”

Danny huffed, putting his own feet under him to stand as well. He began to walk back to the stairs, not really sure what he should be thinking right about now, so he deflected instead. “They still make that old game?”

There was a set of eyes boring into the back of his head, Danny could feel them, but he ignored them as he started trudging up. A grumble from behind him, followed by soft steps and Terry was on his right, looking every inch the irritated teen he probably usually portrayed to others. There was still that undercurrent of concern, but it was mostly covered by the glare he was shooting Danny’s way. Danny didn’t mind, this new kid had yet to master the bat-glare, so he was basically trying to melt a glacier with a hairdryer.

~~~~~

Mr. Wayne was still in the study when the two came up. Terry was trying to glare a hole into the side of Danny’s face, with little results.

“Ah, Danny, Terry, I just got a call from Wayne-Powers, there's going to be an urgent meeting there in about half an hour, so I need you both to get ready.”

They watched as Danny gave an absent nod as he walked out the door and down the hall, silent as a mouse and deep in thought.

Terry turned to Mr. Wayne, who let out a huff at the other teen. Teenagers.

“So,” he drawled, “you gonna tell me what his deal is? ‘Cause that guy is seriously cryptic.”

“Not surprising,” Mr. Wayne replied with a small shake of his head. “Do you know why he needed to go down there all of a sudden?”

“Not really,” Terry turned his head back to the doorway, trying to listen for the other teen moving through the house. He couldn’t, and that unnerved him. “He just looked at the suit displays, had a bit of a meltdown, then asked me if I knew a bunch of names.”

“And did you?” Mr. Wayne asked in the way he did when he started getting into detective mode.

“Some I did, some I didn’t. I already made a file on the computer you can take a look at later.”

A hum made its way from the space behind Terry, then the creak of the old chair sounded as Mr. Wayne heaved his way out of it. He shuffled his way over to Terry, placing a hand on his assistant's shoulder.

“Be careful Terry, he may be friendly, but he isn’t from this dimension. There's no telling what he could be keeping from us. Make sure to take note of everything, no matter how small it may seem.”

Terry nodded, taking a second to process what his mentor had told him as he watched the retired vigilante shuffle out the door. His brain finally caught up with what was said as Mr. Wayne rounded the corner.

“Wait, another dimension? Mr. Wayne wait!-”

#Batman beyond x Danny Phantom #danny phantom #batman beyond #terry mcginnis #danny fenton #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp fic #dp x dc fanfic

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patchworkgargoyle · 4 months

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🩸 A Steddie Big Bang Fic 🌙

Chapter 7

story by: @patchworkgargoyle || art by: @mcdadarts || playlist to come by: @steves-strapcollection || beta'd by: @tboygareth Rating: E || Words: ~5.8k || CW: brief mentions of mutual masturbation || Full tag list on ao3! Fic title from Wolf Like Me - TV On The Radio

Steve walked downstairs the next morning, expecting to see Eddie at his usual spot on the kitchen counter. He hadn’t come to Steve’s room after last night, and Steve had felt–well. Awkward. He’d gotten caught up in the moment when he heard Eddie whine from down the hall.

He thought, at first, that something had happened to Eddie. But he didn’t sound hurt, and Steve heard the sound of skin on skin before Eddie probably froze. And Steve had felt reckless, and brave, knowing Eddie had been listening to him jerk off and had to do it too. It’d been so hot, listening to Eddie moaning and whimpering about Steve that he played into it. Steve felt warm, remembering what he’d said.

So he wasn’t all that surprised that Eddie didn’t come to his room after, and Steve didn’t want to push or something. He let Eddie have some space and told himself they’d talk in the morning like they always did now. They could clear the air. Steve would tell Eddie about the feelings that’d been growing in his chest, and hopefully, if last night was anything to go by, Eddie felt the same.

But Steve wandered sleepily to the kitchen and found it empty. Sometimes Eddie made coffee for Steve before he woke up, but not this morning. There was no vampire lurking in the darkened room, and Steve’s heart sank with disappointment and worry.

Maybe he should’ve stopped. Shouldn’t have said those things to Eddie, or at least gone to check on him afterwards. It was weird, what they’d done, right?

Sighing, Steve scrubbed a hand over his mouth and got to work getting the coffee going and hoped Eddie would come downstairs while he was eating. He didn’t show, though, and Steve ate his cereal alone for the first time in over a week now. He’d told Robin yesterday how nice it was that Eddie was around all the time, so of course he’d gone and messed it up.

When there was still no sign of Eddie after Steve had eaten, showered, and gotten dressed for work, Steve resolved to go knock on his door to check in on him.

“Hey, Eddie? You okay?” Steve asked hesitantly. He was mostly met with silence, but Steve could hear Eddie’s slow heart beating behind the door. It kicked up a little faster the longer Steve waited. “Listen, I wanted to talk–”

The door whipped open. Eddie had moved so fast that Steve didn’t even register it. He stood there with a pleasant enough smile on his face, but his fingers tapped out an anxious rhythm on the door frame. “Hey, Stevie. I slept in if you can believe it. Weird, right?”

“Uh, yeah–”

“Yep! I think I’m kinda sleep-hungover too. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t sleep all the time anymore.” Eddie yawned and Steve frowned. Vampires didn’t need sleep, and sure, Eddie didn’t ever seem to, so maybe he was telling the truth. It didn’t feel like the truth, though.

“Sure, maybe,” Steve started. “But like I said, I wanted to talk about last night. If you do?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Just a bit of blood sharing between buddies, right? Easy to get swept up in it, but it’s water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned.”

Eddie was still smiling, but Steve swore he could feel the nerves radiating off him in waves. His fingers kept tapping the door frame and then stopping, like he caught himself in a bad habit. Guilt welled in Steve’s chest. He must’ve pushed too far, made Eddie uncomfortable. And since he doesn’t have anywhere else to go right now, he was trying to tell Steve to back off gracefully.

Running a hand through his hair, Steve backed away from the door, laughed, and said, “Yeah, man, of course. It’s no big deal. I should probably head out, but there’s coffee if you want some.”

“Thanks, dude. See you later.”

Steve nodded. He barely noticed the tightness at the corners of Eddie’s smile just before he closed the door.

The next few days were… more normal. But not exactly. Whatever camaraderie they’d built up was stilted now. Eddie was still friendly, he still joked, but the teasing and flirting he’d done before were gone. Steve kept kicking himself for it. He’d messed things up like he always did. All he could do was keep his distance and make sure Eddie knew he wasn’t getting kicked out or creeped on again. And even though Steve couldn’t get the sounds Eddie had made while masturbating out of his mind–and, christ, his dreams sure kept reminding him–he kept his hands off of himself now.

Venting to Robin at work didn’t exactly help.

“So you both,” she did a jerking motion with her hand and Steve grimaced, “within earshot, heard each other, kept going, and the next day you’re both like, ‘nah bro it’s cool! Just guys being dudes! Just vampire junk! Super normal, buddy!’ And you haven’t tried talking to him about it again?”

“No, Robin! I’m not gonna make him talk to me when he’s stuck in my house.”

“I think him being stuck in your house is the perfect reason to talk to him about this.”

She slapped a palm over her face and groaned. “This is stupid. You’re both dumb.”

“That’s not fair. It’s complicated. And I tried to talk to him, and he shot me down.” Steve glared at her, crossing his arms. “We don’t know how long it’ll take to find the killer, either, so maybe just letting it be is better.” The other worry that’d been plaguing Steve sat insistent at the back of his throat. He glanced around Family Video to make sure no customers had snuck in while they’d talked, but it was a slow morning and the store was thankfully empty.

“What if he’s not like us?” Steve asked quietly.

Robin huffed and put down the tape she’d been fiddling with, also glancing around the store out of habit. “I get it, I’m sorry. But I don’t think he’d push you against the door and grind on your leg if he wasn’t a little bit gay, and I really don’t think he’d beat his meat–”

“Uhg, come on–”

“Beat his meat to hearing you do it too if he weren’t a lot bit gay.”

Steve still grimaced at her word choice, but tilted his head in unwilling agreement. “I guess so.”

“So you’ll try talking to him again?”

“Maybe.”

Sighing melodramatically, Robin slouched over the counter. “Well, whatever. If you two stay friendly after we catch that murderer I’m gonna make you talk then. There’s no way I’m wrong about this.”

Steve shook his head, rolling his eyes fondly. “Sure, Robs.”

“But, speaking of the murderer… what’re we gonna do about next weekend?”

He crossed his arms and grit his teeth. That was something he’d been mulling over too. The moon would be full, and he, Robin, and Max would have to go out for their run that night. They were fine usually; not much dared to mess with a fully shifted werewolf on a full moon, but who knows what the killer might do. Just the risk of being seen was enough to make Steve jumpy.

“Maybe we should call in some backup,” he suggested, already knowing he’d regret the decision.

Robin dropped her head to the counter with a resigned groan.

—

The full moon conveniently rose on Saturday night. It was the only thing Steve was grateful for that day.

Most full moons, Steve would go pick up Robin and Max, sometimes Lucas and El, bring them back to his place so they could have free reign in the woods behind his house. When Steve and Max had first been turned, Dustin, Mike, and Will insisted on coming, the latter to watch and hang out, the former to do his “research.”

When that research got so annoying Steve nearly snapped at him when shifted, they all agreed to keep their gatherings small. Dustin would argue he was threatened into agreeing, but as far as Steve was concerned, that counted. Anything to get him to stay home.

But as soon as Steve asked if Nancy and Jonathan could come keep an eye on them, the kids–those nosy little shitheads–demanded to come along. Loudly. Over and over again.

“Lucas and El are already going!” Mike complained.

“You need experienced people on the look-out!” Dustin insisted.

“Well, if Jonathan and El are already gonna be there, I might as well come too, right?” Will said reasonably.

Steve, who’d been cornered after dropping Robin off at school, rubbed at his temple. He knew Will wouldn’t be any trouble, and he had a point, but if he let Will go, Dustin and Mike would only get louder if they couldn’t. So when he caved and said “yes,” all three of them whooped in triumph.

Now the sun was setting and his house was a flurry of activity. Nancy and Jonathan had brought all the kids, as well as picnic supplies, claiming that was their cover if anyone found them out in the woods. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike raided his cupboards for more food as Nancy had Jonathan stack up blankets to keep them all warm during the cold November night. Will and El kept track of the flashlights. Robin and Max wouldn’t stop giving Steve looks like all this fuss was his fault.

He kept glaring back, because it wasn’t.

Throughout it all, Eddie flitted around, teasing the kids about preparing for a quest or something. Steve can’t keep his eyes off him. It’s the most he’s seen of Eddie in days, mostly running into each other in the hall between their rooms.

It drove Steve a little nuts, especially as the pull in his chest grew stronger and restless the lower the sun sank below the treeline.

“You’re gonna love this, Eddie, I swear. It’s like the only cool thing about Steve,” Mike said, and Steve’s attention snapped from Eddie’s back to the rest of his surroundings.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Eddie said.

“What?” Dustin ran into the living room from the kitchen. “What do you mean? You’ve gotta come!”

Eddie half turned, like he couldn’t help glancing back at Steve, looking a little caged. “I mean, it’s probably not good to have me out wandering the woods right? What with the whole killer thing.”

Dustin looked doubtful. “That’s literally why we’re all here. Safety in numbers. Plus, you can see further in the dark than all us humans, we need your eyes!”

Lucas ducked around the kitchen door to say, “And what if the killer’s waiting for the house to be totally empty before they try to kill you?”

Waving his hand, Eddie tried to seem unconcerned, but Steve could still see the tension in his shoulders. “You’d still be nearby, it’d be stupid to pull a stunt like that. And Steve wouldn’t want me around for this, right Steve?”

Robin’s head whipped around to stare at Steve from the sun room, and Nancy, standing behind her, noticed. Because of course she did. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as she glanced between him and Eddie, and Steve felt himself start to go red. Shit.

“Wh–I–” he fumbled, and Dustin glared at him.

“What did you do, Steve?” he asked.

“What did I–? Hey! I didn’t do anything!” Steve lied. Now Max was paying attention, probably heard his heartbeat give him away, and Steve started to grow redder.

He didn’t want Eddie to come, was the thing. It was hard to hide emotions–to control his impulses as Dustin would say–when he shifted. Steve didn’t want to give himself away, not just to Eddie, but to everyone, if his werewolf side decided to get cosy with Eddie, on top of making the man feel even more awkward around him. But now that everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at him, Steve couldn’t actually say no without coming off like an asshole.

“You should come,” he said to Eddie, trying to sound like he meant it. “Like Dustin said, we could use your night vision or whatever.”

Eddie chewed on his thumbnail as he gazed at Steve, and Steve did his best not to look at his mouth while he thought it over. Eventually he said, “Sure, alright, I guess I can volunteer my eyeballs for the sake of everyone’s safety. Wouldn’t want to miss out on seeing you guys all wolfed out either.”

“Great!” Dustin said, and Steve held back the impulse to shake him by the shoulders.

“With that settled, we should get going. It’s getting dark out,” Nancy said. She started herding everyone outside, double checking that everyone carried what they needed as they passed. Steve brought up the rear to lock the door behind them, and she held back too, waiting quietly.

“Thanks for organising the little shits,” Steve said.

She shrugged. “It’s fine.” Steve moved to catch up with the ground, but Nancy held him back. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come, I can think of something,” she said, but he knew there was something else lurking behind her words.

Steve glanced at the rest of their friends. They weren’t at all out of earshot of Robin, Max, or Eddie, even though Nancy spoke quietly, so he shook his head. Nancy gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, smiling kindly before nodding at the group and following after them. Before they left the backyard, though, Steve paused. A car drove up, headlights flashing through the slats of the fence before it parked.

The whole group was quiet, holding their breath anxiously, until the driver got out and Eddie started grinning from under the blanket draped over his body to keep the sun off his skin. “Chris!” he called, darting to the back gate before anyone could stop him. He let her in, wrapping her in a blanket-covered hug, and Steve shoved down the flare of jealousy he felt at the sight. Leading her over, Eddie asked, “What’re you doing here?”

“I’ve just been thinking about the other day, so I wanted to come and ask Steve something. Am I… interrupting something?” She wrung her hands as she realised how many people were there.

“No!” Robin said too loudly. Steve looked at her, confused. “Well. It’s just. The whole,” she flailed a hand at the darkening sky, “moon thing? We’re werewolves.”

“All of you?”

“Nope, no, just me and Max and Steve, but we’re doing this whole safety in numbers thing–”

“Robin,” Steve interrupted.

“Right. Uh. Wanna join us?”

Multiple voices all spoke out in confusion and disbelief, but Nancy spoke out louder. “Chrissy should come since she’s already here. If you’re okay coming with us?”

Chrissy looked at Eddie, who nodded encouragingly, then at Steve. Eddie already looked more at ease than he had in days, and no matter the swirl of emotions that stirred up, Steve couldn’t deny him something that made him feel more comfortable.

“We should have enough blankets for you,” he said, and she smiled, relieved.

The walk through the forest was filled with chatter. The kids were excited to hang out, and Steve wondered if they also felt like they were helping in a way. They weren’t allowed to do anything other than research, and since that was a dead end, they’d been benched and complaining about it for days.

Steve and Robin walked together, communicating with expressions and gestures and half-formed sentences that everyone else had learned to ignore. He teased her about how she started rambling at Chrissy, and she shot back by pointing out how he red he got around Eddie.

They kept going, getting to the point of starting to shove each other around–the urge to playfight always got worse with the full moon–until the last people either of them really wanted to talk to caught up with them. Chrissy and Eddie fell in step, both of them looking nervous. Steve gave Robin one last push when she blushed and smiled goofily at the other woman.

“You two really have ants in your pants tonight, huh?” Eddie said.

Steve couldn’t help the tiny flare of hope in his chest. “Yeah, makes us kinda itchy.”

“You might wanna get that checked out, Stevie. Could be fleas.” The slight teasing smile Eddie wore just fed the flame.

“Hey, I’m well groomed, I can’t have fleas,” Steve scoffed, privately delighted when Eddie’s grin grew wider.

“That’s not really how fleas work.”

Chrissy giggled while Steve shot Robin a glare, and she just held her hands up as if to ask what else he expected her to do.

Eddie gasped loudly then, and said, “What if they’re were-fleas?”

While the others ahead of them all kept talking, completely ignorant, the bubble that surrounded Steve, Robin, Chrissy, and Eddie filled with silence. Steve mouthed “were-fleas” with baffled despair. Robin narrowed her eyes like she wanted to study Eddie under a microscope. Chrissy simply sighed.

“How would that even work?” Robin asked, but Chrissy cut Eddie’s impending explanation off with a stern, tired hand in front of his grinning face.

“Don’t get him started. Seriously. He’ll go on forever,” she said, and Steve nodded knowingly. He’d blundered into Eddie’s bizarre, not at all hilarious or charming, rants one too many times now. “And I still have to talk to you, Steve.”

“Right.” Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets. He really would rather not have to remember burying the second werewolf body tonight of all nights, but if it was important enough for Chrissy to drive over for, he’d do it.

“Robin said that Jason showed up at the, um. Where the body was found? What time?”

Steve frowned, trying to remember. “I dunno, but it had to be some time after 3:30 I think.”

“Did he say why he was out there? Because he’d told me he had some extra drills to run with Coach Swann that day, like, all afternoon.”

“Unless Swann has him doing cardio in the woods, I doubt it. He said he’s been out for a run and found the body, had to go home for his kit so he could bury it and found me and Hop doing it instead.”

“That’s weird,” Robin mumbled.

“Yeah, weird place to go for a run,” Eddie said, suspicious, but Steve shrugged.

“Not really. We patrol around the Quarry pretty often.”

Chrissy folded her arms across her chest, looking uncomfortable from more than just the cold. “It’s weird that he’d lie to me about it though. He doesn’t tell me everything about hunting, but he tells me when he’s going for patrols.”

Steve glanced at Eddie. He’d heard all of the complaints Eddie had about Jason, could even agree with most of them. A muscle jumped in his jaw and Steve guessed he must be holding at least a few of those complaints back. Eddie confirmed it when he met Steve’s gaze with his own steely one.

“Maybe because he didn’t want you to worry or be grossed out about it?” Robin said doubtfully.

Chrissy shook her head and a disgusted grimace twisted her face. Eddie rubbed a reassuring hand over her shoulder, his lips pulled thin. “He gets kind of… proud. Of his hunts. And descriptive. I don’t think he’d lie for that.” She paused, and the words sunk in. Steve secretly added to his list of things to dislike Jason for. He knew the asshole liked to brag, he’d always been insensitive and deeply tacky like that, but this was an extra layer of tastelessness. After a steadying breath, Chrissy stared Steve down and asked, “Did he say anything else strange?”

He ran through the conversation in his head, hoping he remembered everything. The image of Jason looking down on the werewolf so coldly while being chipper with Hop and Steve kept rising like bile in his throat as he thought it through. Until he remembered something that’d been pushed aside in the aftermath of exhaustion and horror and… the incident with Eddie.

“He mentioned you, Eddie. Said he’d heard about the other werewolf and the shirt we’d found and instantly brought you up.”

Eddie’s already pale face blanched further, his dark eyes widening. “Oh shit. Shit. But how’d he know!? You said you and Hopper left that out of the report!”

“We took the only piece of the shirt big enough to show a clear design anyway,” Robin said, “because there wasn’t even a whole shirt there, just pieces.”

“What was the shirt?” Chrissy’s voice sounded hollow and put Steve on edge.

“It was black with some kind of zombie skeleton dude’s head,” he said, and mimed the only legible letters in the air as he continued, “said Iron and an M–”

“Maiden?” Chrissy interrupted, turning to Eddie. “The shirt you loaned me. The one that went missing.”

“Fuck.” Eddie’s face fell, and Steve ached to do anything to make him feel better, even as his heart sank at the idea of Eddie giving Chrissy one of his shirts.

Stepping between them and halting their steps, Steve held both Eddie and Chrissy’s arms in a way he hoped was calming. He could feel Chrissy shivering, and Eddie leaned into the touch subtly. “When did it go missing?”

“Before all this, by like, a month maybe? I didn’t realise it’d gone missing until I remembered I even had it and wanted to give it back to Eddie. I know my parents didn’t find it because they would’ve been so mad, and my brother would’ve blackmailed me by now if he had it.” She looked at the ground, unseeing, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. Robin stepped closer and closed their little circle by putting her palm on Chrissy’s back, making her take a shuddering breath before she spoke again.

“I think… I think Jason took it.”

Steve felt Eddie tense under his hand and started rubbing circles into his arm with his thumb as Chrissy’s words sat heavy between them all. The implications were impossible to ignore. At best, Jason found the first body before the kids had and planted the shirt there, framing Eddie as payback for what could be seen as coming on to his girl. Or, as jealous as Steve knew Jason could be, maybe he’d jumped straight to assuming they’d been hooking up.

At worst… Jason was a trained hunter, and as much as Steve hated admitting it, he was good at it too, and known to be brutal to his kills. While beheading werewolves who hadn’t attacked anyone was a whole bunch of steps too far, and framing Eddie for it just as awful, Steve didn’t rule it out. He hoped it wasn’t the case. He didn’t want Chrissy’s boyfriend to be murdering werewolves and blaming Eddie for it. But the way he’d looked at the body that day…

“We’ll figure it out,” he said eventually, confidently. “Maybe we can go ask him some questions in a few days.”

“I can look around his house,” Chrissy offered, but Robin shook her head.

“You shouldn't have to do that, Chrissy. It’s risky, especially if he might be… suspicious of you.”

“I’m your best bet. Even if he doesn’t trust me as much anymore, Jason trusts Steve even less.” Chrissy’s brows pulled together as she bit her lip, anxiety fighting with her determination. “I’m having dinner there tomorrow, I might be able to look around then.”

It was their best option, even if Steve hated the idea of Chrissy investigating alone. “Okay. Just don’t push it, alright?”

“You’re seriously okay with her spying on her dangerous boyfriend?” Eddie snapped, pulling away from Steve’s grasp.

“Of course I’m not okay with it,” Steve hissed, “she shouldn’t have to do anything!”

“‘She’ can make her own choices,” Chrissy insisted. She stood tall, braced on Robin’s hand still, and Robin had this expression of awe and worry. “I’ll do it whether either of you want me to or not.” Steve and Eddie gave sheepish and begrudging apologies, respectively.

“We should talk about this later,” Robin said, nodding ahead of them. Steve turned to see Dustin had lagged behind the rest of their friends, watching the four of them until he noticed he’d been caught and twisted forward again.

Sighing, Steve mumbled, “Nosy kid,” and felt a weight lift when Eddie snorted in agreement.

Max led them all to their clearing, as they’d called it. It was just a small break in the thin trees. A riot of oranges, yellows, and reds painted the ground, fallen leaves that were swept away while the non-werewolves amongst the troupe set up their picnic. It was funny to see so many of their friends there, but to Steve it also felt… right. He had his people around him, watching out for him, Max, and Robin. Keeping them safe. A tiny smile lifted the corner of his lips as he watched Nancy and Jonathan wrangle the kids, while Eddie and Chrissy egged their chaos on.

Eddie peeked at Steve after he set Mike on a tirade against Nancy and Steve’s smile grew, just a little. In return, Eddie winked, then shooed him off towards the trees with a hand. He was right. It was time. Steve nodded at Max and Robin before they disappeared into the woods, rolling his shoulders and relishing the stretch as he walked off to find his usual spot to strip down.

The need to shift had been rising in him all day. It felt like a low thrum in his muscles, like the steady drip of adrenaline priming him before a fight. Now, under the dark, bare boughs, with the silvery-blue light of the full moon reaching through the shadows, the thrum rose into a pulse, a buzz, one Steve could feel deep in his bone marrow, threatening to shake him apart if he kept clinging to his skin.

With his clothes shed, left in a hollow between the roots of a tree, Steve breathed deep and tilted his chin up, out of the shadows, into the bright, clear moonlight. He exhaled, and in the release of air, he released his control, his skin, himself.

Bones crunched and stretched, muscles snapped and reformed, teeth rearranged. All of it a familiar agony, overshadowed by sheer, overwhelming relief at being free. Instead of reducing him to a shivering mess of pain and terror–he’d never forget that first shift, he’d been so unprepared and fought it the whole way–Steve stretched into the change, welcomed it.

Why would he fight it when it gave him so much freedom?

When it was finished, Steve bit back the urge to howl, even if his instincts and his happiness and the thrill of the change shooting through his nerves made it hard. He shook his head, pointed ears flopping, and opened his golden eyes.

The forest always came alive like this. Colours were duller, sure, but shadows were lighter, lights brighter, scents even stronger. He could hear bats flying around a few feet away, the shuffling of a mouse under the leaf litter, the cacophony of his friends in the clearing just behind him, and, of course–

Steve barely managed to brace for impact before a ball of blonde fur came barrelling at him from his right. They went tumbling down to the ground, their laughter sounding like panting, and Robin swatted at him when Steve gained the upper hand and shoved her into the forest floor. Before he could fight back, Max darted in and tackled him, sending him sprawling with a yelp.

Scrambling upright, he dug his claws into the earth and stared at them both. Max and Robin faced him down, their ears pinned back but their body language loose and playful. Just like him, they’d both grown about a foot in size; instead of the girls he knew, they’d shifted into their wolfish, humanoid forms. Their faces had stretched into a muzzle full of teeth and they were covered in thick fur that more or less matched their hair colours. Seeing their golden eyes shining mischievously in the night, Steve realised they’d planned to gang up on him. But they weren’t going to get him that easily.

Steve bolted. Heart pounding, he raced through the trees, back towards the clearing. Not only was he trying to distract, he was trying to show off too. Eddie was there. He’d never seen Steve like this and he wanted to impress him, grab his attention.

He breached the treeline in moments. Robin and Max were right on his heels, Max a little closer. She was faster than both of them when she really tried. Steve was always proud of her when she ran full speed through the woods and outpaced them both, or when she leapt into the air and caught a bird mid-flight in her paw-like hands.

The group heard the commotion, flashlights lighting the way, and Steve zeroed in on Eddie sitting at the edge of the spread out blankets. Lips stretching into a wild grin, Steve headed straight for him.

“Uh, is that Steve? Whoa, shit, wait, Steve stop, Steve–!” Eddie squawked and folded in on himself, preparing for Steve to tackle him, but Steve deked at the last second, leaves scattering underfoot, letting his hand brush Eddie’s shoulder as he sped by.

Max made that huffing laughter sound as she veered around the group as she followed Steve. Robin wasn’t so graceful. Steve glanced back when he heard a sharp yip and saw her legs slip out from under her on the turn. She fell, a mess of uncoordinated limbs that nearly bowled Eddie and Chrissy over. When Chrissy started laughing hard, Robin let out a grumpy, grumbling whine. He knew she’d be glaring at him, but with Max on his literal tail, he couldn’t spare another glance.

“Go Max, get him!” Lucas cheered, and El and Will started whooping, urging her on. Everyone started cheering for Max and Steve rolled his eyes, but then he heard Eddie’s voice.

“Run, Steve! Make Red eat your fucking dust!”

It spurred Steve on and made his heart soar, but the burst of speed wasn’t enough. Max gained on him, swift and light. He heard her pounce before he felt her slam into his back. Steve collapsed with a grunt, his teeth clacking when he hit the ground. Max crouched on his back, tail wagging, waiting for Steve to surrender. With a sigh, the fight left him and Max climbed off, huffing triumphantly before bounding over to Lucas.

The night was spent running around, roughhousing, and lying around with their friends. Steve basked in the comfort of having them all in one place, all happy and content despite the cold. Jonathan handed out hot chocolate from some thermoses, and everyone either curled up together under some blankets or had a werewolf around to keep them warm.

And even if Eddie didn’t need the warmth, Steve still stuck close to him. Steve’s doubts faded under the easy simplicity of thought and heightened impulsivity his werewolf form gave him. And Eddie seemed fascinated by Steve like this, so why keep his distance when Eddie kept looking at him all wide-eyed and dazzled?

Robin and Max laughed at him for it, communicating with gestures, twitchy ears, and curled lips that they thought he was being embarrassingly obvious. Steve thought that was pretty ironic, seeing how Max was curled up on Lucas and El’s laps, and how Robin kept trying to play fight so she could show off for Chrissy.

Steve did give in to the play fighting though. It was fun, and it absolutely did impress Chrissy when Robin gained the upper hand. And maybe Eddie too, when Steve started winning.

The night stretched on and the sky grew brighter. Lucas, Will, Mike, and Dustin had fallen asleep jumbled together. Nancy snoozed on Jonathan’s shoulder while he talked quietly with El and Chrissy. Eddie had his arm around Chrissy’s blanketed shoulders and his free hand was buried in the thick fur at Steve’s nape, nails scratching in a way that made Steve want to melt. He nearly did, stretching out, laid half on the blanket and half on the leaves and heaving a great big sigh that made Eddie chuckle, but the moon’s pull was fading fast.

Grumbling at Robin and Max to get their attention–they’d curled up on the blankets too once their energy ran low–he nodded towards the treeline and as one they stood. Steve shook out his whole body, partially to shake off debris but also to push back the ghost of the feeling of Eddie’s fingers in his fur.

He almost wished he didn’t have to change back. That he could spread out under Eddie’s nimble hands, unreserved and relaxed, for much longer. Eddie might go back to being standoffish again once he got over the wonder of seeing a werewolf in the flesh for the first time and Steve was back to looking human again. There was nothing to do about it though.

The shift back came quickly. It sometimes felt strange being in a smaller body again, but like a welcomed restriction. Shifting on the full moon spent so much energy that it felt like a part of him tucked away to sleep afterwards, safe in his human skin. Sighing, with exhaustion dragging him down, Steve stepped back into his clothes again and met back up with his friends under the light blue of the pre-dawn sky.

While helping them pack up, Steve heard a branch snap out in the woods and snapped upright. Eddie twisted towards the sound, and Max and Robin straightened too. Hushing everyone, Steve tuned into the sounds around them.

The air was still. Songbirds called to each other in the morning light, and underneath that he heard the slow, tentative steps of something that was probably a deer sneaking past the noisy group of people. He couldn’t smell anything unfamiliar. When nothing else stood out, Steve relaxed. At Robin’s concerned look, he shrugged and said, “Probably just tired and paranoid.”

The trek home was punctuated by yawns and little else. Everyone had told their parents they’d be at Steve’s, so they didn’t have to worry about spending the rest of the day catching up on sleep. They dropped their gear on Steve’s dining table at his insistence–”I’ll clean up tomorrow,” he said–and everyone drifted off to their usual guest rooms to nap.

Steve and Robin had been sprawled out and fast asleep on his bed when they both woke up to frantic knocking at his door. The fading light from the window told Steve they’d slept through most of the day. He grunted as Robin flailed and elbowed him in the ribs, and he shoved her off so he could go see who the hell was being so loud.

“What?” he snapped when he opened the door to find Eddie and Nancy, looking frazzled and worried. Nancy’s voice wavered as she spoke.

“The kids are gone.”

Read chapter 8 now on ao3!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #vamp!eddie #werewolf steve harrington #stranger things #steddiebang #steddiebang23 #steddie big bang #steddie big bang 23 #hideous thing sbb #fanfic #sav scrawls stuff

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lya-dustin · 3 months

Text

A Comedy of Non-mathematical Errors

Chapter 2

Michael is not allowed to keep most of his clothing after mummy dearest looked over his current wardrobe.

She had looked faint when he explained the practicality of his favorite cargo pants that turned into cargo shorts thanks to the nifty zippers. Even better he’d gotten them on sale.

“We will donate all your old clothes to charity.” The blonde woman had said only letting him keep his underwear and a handful of things that passed her inspection.

He was not at all surprised to know by charity Elspeth meant the garbage can.

But she did like how clean and organized he was and told Felix that was the right way to keep one’s room.

“Should we do something about his hair, mum?” Venetia asks, looking at him as if he were her personal Ken doll. She’d picked out some of his clothes, made him get a suit that matched a dress she was going to wear ---and made him and Felix buy two matching outfits.

Now she wants to cut his hair.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he dares to ask. If you ask him its pretty great, especially because he did it himself.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” His mother said and yet he is dragged to a high-end barber shop despite his protests. “Felix, make sure your brother gets a nice haircut that doesn’t look like a blind man with blunted shears did it.”

Ouch.

“You’ll be fine with just a trim, Mikey.” Felix says with a smile that makes Michael wince at the nickname as harmless as it is. But the trip to the barber is a relief compared to the endless shopping of yesterday with Elspeth and Venetia.

Michael is given a luxury spa treatment along with Felix who has the same preferences as him despite the difference in socioeconomic statuses.

“I invited Ollie home for the summer, felt so bad for not telling him about us being brothers and his dad dying, I told him he could come visit us.” Felix attempts to be friends were all cut short by Michael who wasn’t sure how to even go from there.

Apparently, Sir James enjoyed Countdown, Venetia wanted to pursue fashion, Elspeth had a DPhil in Art History and spent her life collecting art while Felix attempts to write a novel because if someone is going to write the Cattons in this generation it must be one of them.

Despite their vapid ways, Michael supposed not everyone who acts like an airhead may actually be an airhead. A tough thing to incorporate into your world view when you’ve spent the school year seeing Felix and Farleigh with the same copy of Harry Potter pretending to read. Once they’d even held the book upside down.

“Your mum told me about it, yeah. Does he know what happened?” Michael hopes his ditzy twin brother completely forgot.

“Fuck. I can’t remember.” Maybe Felix was a real ditz, the way they talked about the Catton heir being a genius, his parents must’ve feared leaving everything in his hands. But his stupidity makes this all easier.

“After he tossed me off to hang out with you at the pub, I told him we weren’t friends anymore.” Because he is an opportunistic bootlicking cunt.

The more he learned about Oliver Quick the more he sounded like a fucking psychopath. What’s next dressing up as his mum? Killing any girl Felix talks to?

“Oh, he’d said you had already left. I only talked to him so he could invite you to join us. I liked your shirt, have one like it, just can’t find it in the mess.” Felix sits by his open window to smoke ---Michael detests the smell--- and gave a small laugh as he mentions his pigsty of a room.

“Actually, he pretended not to see me when I came back,” Michael isn’t even surprised Poor Dear Ollie had lied about that too. “Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t know I’m here.”

Michael’s terrible at talking or persuasion, and yet, it doesn’t take much to convince Felix to make his presence here a surprise.

Saltburn is nice, a touch gaudy and weird, but other than that the place looks fine.

His room is across Felix’s with Venetia next door and a guest room for a friend on the other side of the luxury bathroom that was bigger than his old bedroom.

“Mum has a fear of ugly things, I wouldn’t wear these if I were you.” Venetia plucks his glasses off his face and Michael swats at her blindly trying to get them back. He only succeeds accidentally grabbing her nose before giving up

“See how handsome you look? You look like Uncle Micah.” The bleached blonde girl shows him his own mirror to tell him so.

“Can’t fucking see, Venetia.” He points out and squints at his own reflection trying to see if she was being honest and not flattering him out of pity.

Plenty of people loved telling him he could look great if he tried. He’s pretty sure he looks like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo right now and tells his younger sister so.

“Mum’s fine with the glasses, its piercings she doesn’t like.” Felix easily takes the glasses out of Venetia’s hands and carefully puts them back on Michael’s face. “Voila.”

“What do you think, Mike?” they ask when he gets a good look at himself.

And sure, enough he looks like someone who could get any girl or invite he desired. Michael Gavey was gone; Michael Catton had taken his place.

Oliver is going to regret dropping him for Felix.

#michael gavey #a comedy of non-mathematical errors #saltburn au #saltburn fic #ewan mitchell

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takecareluv · 2 years

Note

I have a request were the reader and vinnie are driving while listening to taylor swift

a.n. i hope this is okay! i honestly don’t know much of her music besides some of her old stuff so I did the best with what I knew lol 🤍

late night drives (taylor’s version) || v.h. x reader

it was yet another restless night for you.

you’d been tossing and turning for hours on end, unable to sleep. your usual techniques of making a cup of chamomile tea and reading a book had no luck. you were driving yourself crazy counting sheep and taking deep breathes, anything that could potentially trick your mind into falling asleep.

you glanced over at the snoring boy next to you in envy. if only it were that easy.

vinnie always told you to wake him if you were having trouble sleeping but you never had the heart, he looked so peaceful with his face smushed against the pillow, hair all messy and a slight smile coming from whatever magical thing he was dreaming about.

it might have been weird, but you felt yourself growing calmer just from watching your angel of a boyfriend in slumber. he must of felt you staring because only moments later he was adjusting his body to face you while his eyes fluttered open. he immediately noticed you sitting up beside him, looking angsty as ever.

“what’s wrong, baby? can’t sleep again?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes while moving to sit closer to you. you could clearly tell he was still half asleep.

“yeah, but i'm fine. go back to sleep, i’ll be okay, vin.” you whispered as you watched him roll out of bed and pull on a sweatshirt and pants that had been previously discarded on the floor. “what are you doing?”

“we’re going on a little drive. that always puts you right to sleep, yeah?” he replied as if it was obvious.

“what? baby, no. you don't have to. i know you're tired, just go back to sleep. i’ll fall asleep eventually.”

“you know i’m not taking no for answer, lovie. look at you baby, you’re exhausted. you've barely slept at all this week, just lemme take care of you.” he stood at the door, keys and wallet in hand, waiting for you to concede.

it didn't take long for you to let out a loud groan, pulling yourself out the bed, and slipping on a random pair of shoes. “fine. but if you get tired, we’re turning around.”

“deal.” he answered while reaching out for your hand to guide you outside.

he opened the car door for you, making sure you were buckled and settled in before walking to the other side and situating himself into the driver’s seat.

he handed you his phone so you could play the music you wanted to listen to. you opted for some good old taylor swift, needing her soft voice and the smooth strum of her guitar to lull you right to sleep.

although things didn’t go quite according to plan. as soon as you heard the starting tune of you belong with me (taylor’s version), you sat straight up, making a fist with your hand to use as a makeshift microphone as you began singing loudly.

you became a giggling mess as he started singing the lyrics he sort of knew, in attempt to serenade you.

you continued to horribly sing your favorite throwbacks of her’s together until you felt yourself relaxing into the seat, slowly drifting off.

vinnie noticed how quiet you had gotten, glancing over to see you were now curled up with your eyes shut. having your own concert must’ve worn you out, he smiled to himself.

he moved your hand that was still intertwined with his own, and pressed a soft kiss to it before turning the music down and heading back home.

“sweet dreams my sleeping beauty.”

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker x you

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saviorbook · 5 months

Text

HELLO @ubuntuify!!! I am your secret Santa!

Thank you @secretsantafrans/@venelona for hosting the event.

Enjoy this small gyftmas story that dabbles with questions of the mundane variety.

Sans rushed around, faster than anyone had seen him move before. Considering he typically moved at a snail’s pace, it wasn’t too impressive. Still, he ran around, getting decorations straightened and food properly arranged. It was Gyftmas day, and the skeleton brothers were hosting this year, their fourth year on the surface. It was a smaller get together than previous years, with some people being on the road. Still, that didn’t mean they could just slouch on Sans’ favorite holiday.

As everyone began to arrive, Sans had a large smile on his face. He welcomed everyone in and seemed ecstatic. There was only one person missing, and they were the one person Sans was the most excited to see. He asked around, wanting to know if anyone had heard from them. Undyne was apparently the last person they had texted, and that was over two hours ago. Regardless, the group had a party to start.

They all had dinner and were snacking on baked goods before Frisk burst into the house, snowflakes in their hair and their jacket soaked. They quickly closed the door before the blizzard could invade the house. They gave an awkward smile as they hung their coat up, only a thin cotton dress shirt served as protection from the cold weather. “Sorry I’m late, everyone. A last minute meeting came up, and I walked here since the roads are blocked.”

Everyone rushed to their side and started to worry over them, talking about how they couldn’t live with themselves if it turned out Frisk caught a cold to be here. Sans was the only one not participating, opting to get them a sweater and a cup of hot chocolate.

“Give them some space, guys.” Sans throws the sweater, hitting them in the face.

“Go to the bathroom, get changed, then come back down here and have some coco.” Frisk gave him a thankful look and did as he suggested.

After a few minutes, Frisk comes back down, their hair a wet mess, but they were at least wearing a thick sweater, now. They sat down by the fireplace, soaking in the warmth as Sans gave them the cup of coco he had prepared.

“Hey, guys? I have a question… If you could have everything you want, but you had to live a mundane life, would you do it?” The party froze, everyone now staring at Frisk.

Papyrus was the first to answer, stating that it was impossible to be mundane when he was so great. The rest soon followed, giving their own reasons for saying no. When the question was Sans’ to answer, he declined, secretive as always.

“What about you, punk?” Undyne couldn’t help but ask the same. It was a random question, but if Frisk was going to ask it like that, out of the blue, they must’ve thought about it themselves.

“Oh, you know… I’ve already got everything I need.” They shrug and scratch the back of their neck. “Anyway, how dare you guys even entertain my questioning? Let’s get to the present opening.”

The party gets back into the swing of things: the music getting turned back on, gifts getting opened, smiles, and jokes galore. Everyone was having a great time, but all things must come to an end eventually, and the end of this party was fast approaching. Unfortunately, the blizzard that forced Frisk to walk had only gotten worse, getting to the point where they couldn’t even open the door anymore.

Papyrus suggested a sleepover, and it wasn’t like anyone could refuse. Everyone was sleeping downstairs in a makeshift pillow fort, built by Papyrus and Undyne. At least, everyone but Sans and Frisk had managed to fall asleep.

“Hey, Frisk. Wanna head up to my room? Just to talk, nothing weird.” He spoke in a low whisper, making sure no one else heard.

They whispered back, laughing a bit while answering, “Sure. I could use a talking buddy.”

The pair went to Sans’ room and snuck in quietly. Frisk sat cross legged on Sans’ bed and watches him sit down, too.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Frisk’s eyes met his, their own eyes a shimmering gold that made the skeleton blush a light blue.

“I, uhm… I wanted to answer your question from earlier, the one about a mundane life.” He avoided their gaze and sighed.

“I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. When I first heard the question, my answer was yes. I thought that it made sense, getting everything I want? It sounded amazing. Then, I really thought about it, and I couldn’t see it happen.” Frisk reached out and touched his hand out of sympathy.

“My entire life has been a series of disappointment and heartbreak. There’s a reason I only have 1 Hp. I, uhm, the harder I think about it, the more I realize that no matter what, I can’t be happier than I am now.” He looks at the human across from him and gives them a soft smile, not his cocky grin, but a soft smile.

“Having a mundane life means, no magic, and that’s one of the only things that’s kept me going. I guess, the other question would be, does this mundane life start now, or does it reset my life and make me start over?” He sighs, and Frisk gives his hand a squeeze. He looks up at them with a smile and continues.

“In either case, I wouldn’t be able to be happy with it. Living a mundane life starting now, wouldn’t allow for me to do the things I want to do, and reliving my life, would only leave me feeling empty, like something was missing. What about you? You dodged Undyne’s question like it was a sport.” Frisk chuckled and pulled their knees to their chest.

“Yeah… If I’m being honest, I don’t know what would make me happy. I’ve never taken the time to think about it.” They look at their feet, clad in fuzzy socks.

“I think, I’m happy. I know that I love you, all of you guys...” They glance up at him, a light blush adorning their cheeks.

“I’ve been through so much, I don’t think I could live a mundane life and be happy. There would always be that sinking feeling of something going wrong. You know?” Sans nods and squeezes their hand.

“I’m okay without living a mundane life as long as I can spend it with you.” Frisk looks into Sans’ eyelights, and Sans blushes a deep blue.

“What?” Sans looks back at them, his voice quiet and unbelieving.

“I’ve grown attached to you, Mr. Boneman. Despite what Undyne and Papyrus think, you’re my best friend, and I’ve grown a bit tired of only being friends. I understand if you don’t feel the same, and if you’ll still have me as a friend, I’ll gladly let our relationship stay tha-” Sans cuts them off, a bright blush on his cheeks.

“Frisk, I’m sick of being of friends. I want more, too. I’ve actually had a thing for you, for awhile...” He swallowed thickly and looked up at them. They were blushing a bright red and had a large smile on their face.

“That’s really nice to hear.” They’re grin had yet to cease.

“So, does this mean that we’re together?” Sans chuckled nervously.

“I think it does.” Frisk gave him a smile.

“This is probably the best gift I’ve ever received.” Sans kept his goofy grin as he pulled Frisk in for a hug.

“We should probably head back downstairs.” Frisk pulls back with a small smile.

“Right. We don’t want to worry anyone.” Sans takes Frisk’s hand and walks back downstairs to their friends.

They both share another small whisper on the stairs.

"Merry Gyftmas."

#frans #sans x frisk #undertale #frisk x sans #Frans secret Santa #au frans

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madnessreruns · 1 year

Note

okay okay… of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but i’d LOVE an edward nygma x male reader

Whoops!

Edward Nygma x Male! Reader

Summary: Ed’s tired give him a break man

Note: I completely forgot what his apartment looked like, so I tried to make it as vague as possible. I also tried to make it as directed to a male audience, but I didn’t know how to incorporate it well. I tried to rewrite this multiple times so that’s why it took this long.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Good Evening Ed!” You entered the apartment, removing your coat as you looked around for your boyfriend. “Ed?”

He usually met you at the door, welcoming you and announcing excitedly what you two were going to eat tonight, but instead he was no where to be seen.

You entered farther into the apartment, the wet bottoms of your shoes from the rain squeaking uncomfortably loudly. You peaked into the kitchen, the absence of Ed made you uncomfortable. You home without the most important thing in it.

You stepped into the room, noticing the window wide open, the wind blowing in. You walked over, shutting it, grabbing a towel to wipe up the rain that had spilled on the window sill. Gently picking up a plant that had been pushed off the window sill and was knocked into the sink. Ed would have picked it up if he noticed so, why wasn’t he around?

You exited the kitchen, checking out all the windows to make sure the rest of them were closed nice and tight. The rainstorm outside had winds strong enough to blow them open if you weren’t careful enough.

Nothing else was broken or had fallen over like the plant in the sink, so instead of worrying about that, you worried about the apparent disappearance of your boyfriend.

“Ed? Ed! Are you here?” You called out, going silent waiting for a response. You didn’t hear anything, just you, the wind, the rain and the silence.

An uncomfortable eerie weight hung in the air, a mixed feeling of unease and wort rested in the bottom of your stomach. A shiver ran down your spine, the apartment was painfully cold without your coat the the remaining cold from the open window.

When you finally entered the bedroom you found him, finally. He was laying in the bed, snoring away. You let out a chuckle, removing your shoes as you walked towards him.

You leaned down gently moving a lock of hair out of his face. He was so peaceful when he sleeps, soft snores and almost silent murmurs. Yes, he talks in his sleep. Whether it be riddles, random words, or the weirdest fucking things you’ll ever hear.

“No, I don’t have termites in my ear…”

“Ed seriously what the fuck??”

You gently shook him, trying to wake him, it was like 6 in the afternoon, he must’ve gotten off early and decided to take a long nap. He softly stirred, turning over, shooing you away.

“Ed, baby it’s 6:24, wake up,” he groaned, stuffing his head under his pillow. You scoffed, gently grabbing onto the bedsheets- before ripping them off into the floor. He immediately protested, turning over to throw his pillow at you.

You burst out giggling as he horribly missed, almost knocking down a picture. He glanced up, hairball messed up and looking like an absolute mess as he was only in a wife-beater and a pair of weird boxers. Hearts? Really Ed.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“So? Did your alarm not run off or was the 5 hour nap a choice?” You hummed, rubbing Ed’s back as he practically fell into you.

“Choice…” his miffed voice was barely decipherable as he stuffed his face into your chest.

“Hm, bad day?” You looked down at him, letting out a quiet chuckle.

Ed didn’t respond, he just let out a frustrated groan. You knew it.

These assholes at the precinct kept teasing him for being different. Bunch of stupid lads, like their any better. He just a wants to be himself and a bunch of overgrown middle school bullies turned into alcoholics and criminals disguised as people who want to uphold the law.

“Want be to beat the shit out of them?” You joked, he smiles into your chest, looking up at you, standing all the way back up.

“If your up to it,” he chuckled.

“Then consider them- fucking destroyed,” you pretend to throw punches, making stupid little grunts. He laughed, walking over to the fridge, opening it up and getting a box of some fruit.

“Their just mad I have a better boyfriend then they do,” he smiled, booping your nose.

“Oh damn I didn’t know they were into men,” you thought out loud.

“Oh their not,” Ed said, getting a bowl from the cupboard, “But with how they act no women would want to date them,” he continued on, “The only chance they have is if they start dating each other.

You barked a laugh, knowing one day they’d get a taste of their own medicine.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

#edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #edward nygma x you #gotham #gotham x reader #gotham fox #gotham tv #gotham 2014 #gotham tv show #x reader #cas.txt #mutuals <3

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eagle-warri · 7 months

Text

MAG XXX: Labyrinthine

(inspired by both @cherrifire’s Distortion!BigB and @mothofprophecy’s Distortion!Grian. And also the fact that Secret Life is basically a Spiral domain at this point)

tw: derealization, descriptions of glitching

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

[click]

[ARCHIVIST] Statement of G. Rian regarding a maze of doors. Statement given October 29, 20…that can’t be right. The statement says it was given 2023, that day hasn’t happened yet. It must’ve been a mistake, I’ll have to refile it. Statement begins.

[ARCHIVIST (statement)] Alright, first thing you need to know is that I am not the best guy sometimes, but I try! If I sometimes trap my friends in death games for fun, well, no one’s perfect. I see how you’re looking at me, they’re fine. Mostly. Don’t ask about Jimmy.

Anyways. I was running another game, but something was wrong. I wasn’t completely in control anymore, something…else had gotten in there. And not of my own design. Something not of blood and life and death, like the games always were, not of the binding strings and rot of Double or the ticking time of Lim or the hopping bloodlust of Last, but of color and twisting and lies. We had…they were called Secrets. Things we had to do or we suffered the consequences. And there was one player…

It was BigB. Don’t ask about a real name, only about half the players went by one, and he wasn’t one of them. But from the start his secrets were weird. First one I’m almost sure was hole-related, but he would not tell me, which I’m kind of annoyed about. But the second one…

I don’t even know what his secret was for, but he had some sort of labyrinth built, and he invited me in. I took it, obviously. But as I passed him, something was a bit off. Nothing was wrong looking right at him, but out of the corner of my eye I could have sworn that he was glitching. Like, he had this weird, colorful outline, and his fingers were too long. I didn’t think much of it. Probably should have, otherwise I wouldn’t be in here.

Anyways, I headed in, and figured that it was a maze thing, that I’d have to find my way out. Especially when I glanced back and realized the door wasn’t there anymore. I kept going, but it seemed like I was going in circles. The doors on the walls kept changing, colors and styles glitching. Eventually I tried just walking in one direction. Until I realized that I should have been past the world border. There should’ve…well what should’ve happened is that there was a wall, a border somewhere that you couldn’t go through. A pocket domain’s only so large, ya know? Suppose you do, given this place.

I kept going. Eventually I started running, checking every door I could. It only seemed to glitch more the more I was in there. It was as if whatever had trapped me in that place didn’t like me. And every so often, when I glanced back, I saw BigB. He seemed at home in the glitches, but so wrong at the same time. His limbs didn’t look right, his sweater glitching from blue to pink to purple. The curls in his hair only spiraled in and in and in and in, never seeming to stop.

I found the one door that wasn’t glitching. It seemed normal, your typical birch door that seemed stark against the dissolving hallway around me. I grabbed for it and went through it and…

I woke up on the ground, looking up at BigB. He looked…normal. It was a stark contrast from the glitching mess that had been in the maze. He helped me up, saying I’d passed out in there, that he’d dragged me out. He shrugged before waving a goodbye as I walked up the stairs that spiraled up to ground level.

As I left, I thought to check my secret. It said to move some doors around people’s bases, and I did! Twice as many as I needed to, actually. And I built this confusing base thing, basically all stairs.

I never realized how much fun it was to confuse people like that.

[ARCHIVIST] Statement ends. There’s…a lot to unpack here. That Jimmy he mentioned…I’m pretty sure we have an End statement by a Jimmy that refers to a “G” a couple of times. But the other things. Mr. Rian seems like a dangerous Avatar. It seems less like he belongs to someone specific, and more to a fear, something game and death and blood and control. Adding being Spiral-touched to that can’t be good for anyone. Hell, it seems like he’s halfway to being an Archivist himself, if he wasn’t so tied to Web.

That BigB he mentioned confuses me too. He doesn’t match the description of Michael or Helen, but he’s obviously a Distortion. The doors make that obvious enough. Maybe this thing really is from that date. Or maybe it’s not, and the Spiral is just messing with me.

Not really that much to follow up on here, unless I want someone to end up in his…what did he call it? “Pocket Domain?”

Whatever that is, it sounds worrying. For now, I’ll only hope that none of us cross G’s path.

[click]

#eagle's ficlet #secret life #tma #crossover #derealization #glitching #i’m aware i’m not being completely canon compliant but it’s for the story

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 2 years

Text

Better with a friend

When - chronologically, this is after “What were your nightmares about?”, so you and Daryl are heading off to search for Sophia, as it’s rapidly approaching the 72 hour mark. (Because this series is non linear, “Happy 8th of July!” was published right before this)

Perspective - it’s mainly 3rd person Daryl POV, so you’re the secondary character this time around, slowpokes.

Pronouns - she/they. Fancy, I know.

Relationships/characters - it’s you and our mangy hick, always working toward that nice slow burning Daryl x Reader

TWs - language, mention of parental death, mention of stats involving missing persons/children, mention/allusion to childhood abuse

Word count - it’ll take you 10-15 minutes according to average WPM

References to other stories - your flashbacks from What were your nightmares about?, that little spat you and Dary-bear had in “Deserved” Part 1, Daryl having given you generic gatorade after a migraine in How’s your head? Part 2, your chronic migraines, your injuries from Just one scrap Pt. 1, the phrase ‘ain’t nothing’ from Ain’t nothing as well as how T-Dog and Daryl started to become bros because they both really like barbecue sauce, and how you were eating barbecue sauce in That mangy hick! when the camp was overrun, the name-calling from Two idiots. You might as well read It was a pragmatic cigarette, too, y’all.

In fact, if you click here, you can read everything at your leisure!

Fine, it’s better to have Y/N here.

Even though he’s still unsure about them being out here with their messed up arm (they put icy hot on it, he can smell the mint) and the fact that they have fresh stitches.

And it was better to have them there even though she’d brought along peanuts (nasty) and now had peanut-y breath, so he’d noticed when they’d gotten close. Not that, um, not that her breath smelling was a big deal.

Probably a step up from his cigarette and canned-tuna-for-breakfast breath, especially considering he hadn’t brushed his teeth this morning…or last night. And he hadn’t washed in a while—shit, he’d also not used deodorant again.

That’s another thing about hanging around Y/N, he thought about that stuff a little more. She always had him use bug spray, too.

It was weird, but in a good way. It was like they cared.

He decided to start the search within a one mile radius of the house he’d found the makeshift cot in the closet and the recently emptied can in the trash. After that, if no signs were there, they’d branch out.

Except that the only noticeable sign of anything were deer and wild hog tracks, and those were messing up everything.

Funny enough, Y/N seemed to get nervous about the hog tracks.

“You more scared of feral pigs or dark water?” he jokes, kinda curious to find out if they were actually scared.

“We don’t got the firepower to handle one if one saw us and didn’t like it, is all…”

True enough. His crossbow and Y/N’s handgun would be like throwing rocks.

“It’s dumb, it’s just I, um, I helped transport a guy to the homsinal—hospital—uh, who’d got royally gored by one once. Him and his two dogs.”

Oh, man. “That guy wasn’t tryin’ to rack them up for some competition, was he?”

They shake their head, and he notices their eyes look shiny. “Nah, just protecting his farm,” they hush. More loudly, they then ask, “Have you ever done a competition?”

“Nah, but I guess I would wanna do it for bounties like some places got. My Uncle Jess did that a few times when I was young, traveled out to Texas and Mississippi.”

“You’ve talked about him before. He must’ve been a good influence—bought you your first bow you told me, right?”

He’d mentioned that back when he first let her tag along for a hunt, that was about two and a half months ago by now? Back when he thought she’d lose interest or mess him up more often than not. They remember that after all this time, though?

Well, he considers that they are... his friend.

It still feels weird to him to think that they’re ‘friends’ now, even after the month and a half or whatever they’ve been, um, ‘friends.’ He might even be friends with T-Dog now, too, of all people, but he isn’t certain. He hoped, but...

That word still surprised him sometimes, too. ‘Friend.’ He isn’t sure if he trusts it yet.

Anyway, it’s time to branch out, they’d searched that one-mile radius and found shit.

Right around here should be...yeah, there it is.

He points.

“Is that a path?”

“Some local trail, yeah. The doctor guy mentioned it.”

It was the only time the old farmer/doctor had talked to him. Said “There’s a local nature path not known to many people due Northwest of here, only about a mile or so from the property. It’s not marked on the maps as such. But if the other child from your group who became lost in the woods wandered this far, it’s very likely she would have followed it.”

Y/N’s voice went up and their sentence came out fast. “It’s perfect! If Sophia came across here, sh-she would’ve stayed on it—prombly all the way to a road! Sorry, ‘probably.’”

“Here’s hopin’.”

He and them follow it northeast for…well, neither of them has a watch on, but based on the position of the sun it’s about mid to late morning. It’s getting harder and harder to tell given that the skies are clouding over.

“Sophia!” he calls for what’s already the umpteenth damn time that day. It’ll be three days once the late afternoon hits. Three days she’s been out there.

“Baby girl, it’s me and Daryl! Don’t be afraid to shout back or make noise, we’re here to get you safe!” Y/N is sounding a little desperate when she next shouts, “We just need to know where you are!”

Shit, his water bottle is empty. He turns toward the stream off the path and stomps over to it, trying to find a spot with faster running water. He knew it was risky regardless and that he might get the shits, but he was thirsty. Not like he hadn’t done it before.

“It still makes me nervous whenever you do that, Daryl,” Y/N mumbles. Then came a zipping noise, the sound of rummaging through a bag, then tinkling sound as if from a rattle. He turned his head to see Y/N holding out a tiny brown pill and a small glass bottle. “Here, toss an iodine tab in there.”

An iodine tab?

…Sorry, it still feels so damn weird all the stuff Y/N does. A good weird, don’t get him wrong, but Y/N is very…what’s the right word, ‘caring?’ Did that sound like a dick thing to think? And was he a sad, pitiful sumbitch for being kinda suspicious of all that? It just didn’t make sense.

Maybe he just hasn’t had a good friend in a while.

With a nod of his head and what's probably an awkward thanks, he takes the little tablet and drops it into his bottle, shaking it around.

“Don’t want you catchin’ giardia or such, that would suck,” they explain, massaging their neck.

“It does suck.” He’d gotten it once. Really sucked.

After she makes a little “oof,” in sympathy or whatever, he looks back to find her squinting over the area map they’d brought along. “Looks like over in that direction will be some kind of, um, it’s promally—sorry, ‘probably’—an elegridal—” a slight grunt of annoyance, “elec-tric-al maintenance, um, uh, place.”

Why are they messing up their words so much today?

Finishing up, they put to him, “This map’s really old, though, like pre-GPS. What d’you reckon?”

He hums and nods. “The building will still be there. Besides, we gotta try everythin’ if we’re gonna get this girl found.”

Y/N’s hand then finds its way to the spot she had the stitches, and covers it as she walks on.

He doesn’t like that, but, well, it was their choice to have headed out with him.

“You good to keep goin’ on?” he finds himself asking anyway.

“Yeah, ain’t nothing.”

Hadn’t they been over that phrase?

As if a scoff wasn’t bad enough, it comes out of his mouth before he can rethink it: “If you’re too sore or whatever, it’s gonna slow us down. Just head back, don’t be an idiot.”

He knows they don’t like being called that, yet he called them that anyway, why? The words ‘mangy hick’ pop into his head as he braces himself for their reaction.

“Have I slowed us down at any point today?” they state more than ask.

“Not yet.” You coulda just said ‘no,’ asshole.

Some kind of cuss growls from Y/N’s mouth along with a very clearly enunciated, “Well then, quit actin’ like a bitch.” And to rub it in, they jog in the direction of the maintenance building.

The memory of that rainy hunt when they caught the goose comes back to him. Y/N doesn’t like being called an idiot, and he himself doesn’t like being called a bitch. His memory travels further to that quick spat they had back when Glenn apparently drove a car to camp with the alarm still blaring. Same day his brother was handcuffed to that fucking roof…

Quit being a pissy bitch, Darylina.

Right, um, anyway, that was the first time him and Y/N had really gone at it, he guessed. And her little “Yeah, you best watch yours, sunshine,” they’d snapped in response to him warning them to “Watch your mouth,” still made him want to smile when he thought about it.

He was gonna use that some day, that shit was funny.

Back to reality, he jogs after her and joins her in carefully peeking into the windows to make sure they weren’t speeding into a bad situation head-first.

And…the one-room maintenance building proves to be a bust, all it has is a dead guy stumbling around in it.

He felt so damn certain they’d find some kind of sign along the hiking trail, it was so close to the house with the can and the little cupboard bed!

The two of them follow the path all the way to the damned trailhead, and then all they find is an abandoned car in a small dirt parking lot at the side of some backroad.

Probably belonged to the lone geek who tried living in the maintenance building; that guy had a dog with him at some point or another. There were dog bowls and a bed in the corner of the building, and there’s a chew toy and one of those car hammocks for dogs in the backseat.

He starts getting caught up on the what-ifs about what happened to it. He really hopes it wasn’t eaten.

Then he notices Y/N looking sadly at the backseat, too.

“Dogs are good at survivin’,” he figures he’d say. It was true.

“Mm,” they hum back, then start to hurry off to the road, so he follows right behind.

He and them look up one way, then the other.

With a soft hm?, her eyes suddenly narrow at something as she jogs to a pile near the side of the road a few yards off.

He squints in the same direction, aiming his bow around the area just in case.

“Just a hoodie,” he hears them sigh. “Soph had on a...yeah, a blue t-shirt with a…there was something on it, a cloud or somethin’… she had her cargo capris on.” They turned to look at him, hand massaging their neck again. “Do you remember if she had a sweater or jacket tied around her hips?”

He hadn’t really thought about what the girl was wearing when she went missing. Hadn’t noticed.

“She had Eliza’s ragdoll with her, didn’t she?” Y/N remembers. “And the pink walkie, for all the good that did,” they mutter next before taking off down the road until he calls for them to stop.

“Let’s check the trail fully first.” He gestures back to the path. “She was lost in the woods and was told to keep the sun on her left shoulder. That means she would’ve headed in that direction,” he told her with a thumb pointed behind him, back up the hiking path.

They aren’t so sure, judging by the way they open then shut their mouth and keep looking back. “But the road may have seemed the smarter, clearer option to her.”

True…

“We’ll circle back,” he offers. If there’s time today. But maybe they’ll find her and won’t have to.

The weather is looking like it’s gonna get bad real fast. The tree canopy will provide some protection from the rain, at least.

You

You can’t get the image of Mama’s dog out of your head. The nightmares last night were bad enough, but then the hog tracks reminded you of that patient’s two dogs, one of whom was already dead by the time the ambulance got there—which of course sent you right back into your bad memories about Mama.

Then, whoever was living in that maintenance building had a dog at some point, too. Hopefully it was living a happy, uneaten life with a pack of strays as you speak. Maybe Mister Cat was with him, he liked dogs…

And you didn’t realize it until a short while ago, but you’re in the prodrome phase of another goddamned migraine. Hopefully it won’t hit until tomorrow or the day after, but your neck is getting stiff and achy, you can’t get your words right, you feel distracted, there’s rain coming.

Whoop-de-fucking-doo, Daryl will be proven right. You are such an idiot. Like, you didn’t even remember to bring painkillers with you! Stupid, stupid idiot, you cannot let anything go wrong with you or slow you down.

It’s already been a half a day and you didn’t find anything else yet.

And it’s gonna be the full seventy-two hours soon. Your brother has been really hoping to not hit that number.

After seventy-two hours, statistics indicate the missing person will more likely be found as a corpse. Especially when it came to minors, unless she’s been kidnapped—oh my gosh, STOP. Stop overthinking, you’re overtired and in pain, just chill out. Be “zen” like Daryl said earlier.

Zen…

Him

For some reason, he wants to talk today. To Y/N, that is. They just seem quiet today, he doesn’t know.

“You have a dog before all this, Y/N?”

They still looked kinda out of it. Didn’t answer, neither. “If we find puppies or kittens, let’s bring back the whole litter. Deal?”

Sure. “Deal.”

They must’ve had a dog before all this. “What was your dog’s name?” he decides to phrase it.

Y/N still had on that blank sort of look. “‘Good Dog.’ He was Mama’s.”

He had to snort a little. “Perfect name for a dog, I guess.”

Thunder sounded in the distance. After sharing a look with him and raising her eyebrows at the incoming weather, her smile was peeking out. “Ask what the cat’s name was.”

“‘Bad Cat?’”

Cool, he earned a laugh outta them for that one.

Fully smiling, she tutted “Excuse you, it was Mister Cat. What ablout—about you, you have a pet?”

Might as well. “I kinda had a cat when I was a kid. Found this little, black, scrawny kitten when I’d got lost.”

“Aw, that’s swe—wait, what do you mean ‘got lost?’”

Right, he’d hadn’t told Y/N about that. He’d told Andrea, of all people.

He’s still surprised that he’d shared that, but he’d wanted to prove that Sophia could be alright just like he’d been alright—and after nine days on his own. Well, ‘alright’ minus the itchy ass.

“I’ll save the story for when we have those beers and you tell me about that thing.”

He hadn’t forgotten she was gonna tell him whatever made her ask to bum a cigarette last night.

“I-I was hopin’ you didn’t remember or weren’t serious.” And before he could reply, they quickly asked, “What was your cat’s name?”

Fine. “Eyes.”

“Sorry?”

“‘Eyes,’” he repeated. Yeah, yeah, it was a weird name, he knows.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, by all means explain.”

More thunder. Sounded farther away, which was good. Wind picked up, though.

“In the dark, all ya could see were her eyes.” Why did his cheeks feel all warm? Ain’t no reason to be embarrassed. “S’how I found her.” He’d thought she was a raccoon kit.

“Why’d you say she was ‘kinda’ your cat?”

“My neighbor took her in. That old lady who got them bad headac—migraines—like you.” He corrected to the right word. Y/N wanted people remember the difference between the two.

Anyway, Dad hadn’t wanted a fleabag with claws liable to piss everywhere in his house, so the woman took her in. And Daryl had simply shut him and Merle’s bedroom door and left the bedroom window open with a can of tuna or some jerky or chopped up hot dog to encourage Eyes to visit.

Sometimes, she’d brought him trophies. He loved that cat.

Other than to call Sophia’s name, he and Y/N follow along the trails quietly. Time passes.

The thunder grows louder and rumbles more and more. And after the path makes its way back to the creek, he suggests they take a rest for a while.

It has to be an hour or two past noon by now. He needs to take a leak and a dump and needs to eat something, and he’s sure Y/N does, too.

He comes back from his bathroom break (he also nabbed a squirrel) to find Y/N rinsing out Jacqui’s blood-covered messenger bag in the creek. There was a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer and some snacks on a rock next to them. He isn’t sure what the deal is with that fancy-looking red shirt laid out on a rock, though. But he is sure that he shouldn’t draw attention to the fact that Y/N is teary-eyed.

“Thanks for the TP,” he said, tossing them the sealed bag with toilet paper. Definitely a step up from leaves. Especially poison oak…

Y/N then casually mentions, “Dude, try out the hand-sanitizer, it’s lemon scented.”

It wasn’t like he wiped his ass with his fingers…still, hint taken. He walked over and squeezed some into his hand.

“I don’t think this lemon stuff’ll cover the smell of your bug spray, though.”

“Or your smokes.”

“Or your peanut breath.”

“Peanuts taste and smell yummy, what’s the problem?” they ask as they soak-wring-rinse, soak-wring-rinse. “Unlike tuna fish, which smells like…tuna fish,” they deadpan regarding his choice of breakfast this morning.

Not wanting to crack up too obviously, he pushes out a burp to rub it in. “You eat?”

“Yeah. Good Moses, I nearly stress-ate everythin’ I brought, so, three cheers for willpower.”

He peels open the Slim Jim and grabs the packet of oyster crackers and the mini box of raisins. “I thought you couldn’t eat when you were stressed.” He’d overheard them tell their brother something like that in the RV, the first night Sophia was missing. Yeah, that was right before they got that headache—wait, no, ‘migraine.’

After giving him a look he couldn’t translate, they say, “You don’t miss a trick.” Wringing out the bag again, they then plunge it back into the water, holding it under with one hand and starting to massage their shoulder and neck with their other.

And, ignoring what he thought was an obvious stare at their injured shoulder, Y/N starts by describing, “I can’t eat when I’m worried. But when I’m stressed, I can eat everything.”

“Why didn’t you finish those peanuts then?”

They make a face. “Apparently I still have somethin’ of a taste aversion to barbecue, after the fish fry. Didn’t realize it until I smelled it. Which works in your favor, you like barbecue stuff, right? At least in your beans.”

True. But peanuts…he bravely sniffs the packet of sweet-mesquite barbecue peanuts. He hazards to try one…chews it…not nasty, he supposes to himself. Still, “I’ll save these for Sophia,” he says out loud.

He opens the Slim Jim first and takes tiny, quick bites to break it up and get it all into his mouth in one go. “What’s with the red shirt?” he wants to know next, mouth full.

“Present for Carol,” Y/N mumbles. “Some blood soaked through the bag, got onto it. I didn’t want her finding it and washin’ it. It would runin—ruin—the, um, the surprise. Though, I ain’t sure if she’ll…” A deep breath. “It’s from the day Sophia went missing. I snuck it into my bag right before the herd showed. Ain’t sure she’ll want it no more.”

He doesn’t know what to say back, so he empties the entire packet of oyster crackers into his mouth.

Y/N goes back to wringing the bag out.

Daryl refills the water bottles (she really is still using the Gatorade bottle?) while chowing down on the raisins, and before he can ask for the iodine things, they toss the bottle in his direction.

Duly adding the tablets, he asks “Blood all rinsed?” with a nod at the bag.

She wrings out the bag a final time and stuffs it into a plastic shopping bag, shoving that into the backpack, then folds up the red shirt neatly and tucks it into her bag as well. “No more red was comin’ out of it. Stained and creepy, though. Shall we get back to it?” they ask, standing up and just as quickly wavering on their feet. “Whoa.”

He doesn’t grumble or roll his eyes when she does. In fact, he hops up and steadies them with his hand just in case.

“Drink,” he then tells them, grabbing the bottles, handing her hers, and leading the way up the path. That’s when the rain starts.

It’s still good to have them there even when it’s rainy and uncomfortable. They’re good at making light.

“Feels nice to cool off. And no iodine tab needed, we can just baby bird up at the sky and get a drink,” Y/N jokes, making a big ah.

A few minutes later, there was a brief moment of hope. They thought they saw somebody in the woods. Turns out they did, they were just dead, though. Just a few walkers.

Y/N and he take them out, him with his crossbow, them with their screwdriver. She covers up the half-eaten fox carcass they were gnawing on with leaves and some branches. He thought he heard them mumble a number, ‘29’ or something under their breath, whatever that was for.

“Were there any other houses near the one you found the can at?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t run into any, doesn’t mean there weren’t none.”

“There’s this spot on the map I was starin’ at. That’s a plot of some kind, maybe a resona—residence—right?”

The rain starts getting heavier. Like, way heavier. “Let’s check it out.”

When they get there, the rain is so heavy it feels like someone is spraying a damned hose directly over their heads. But sure enough, there’s a small residence—but the door front door to the little stilted house is ajar.

There’s a handwritten sign on it that says “Gone to Atlanta. Door open, take shelter if you need!” In different handwriting underneath this is: “Please leeve our photografs and blongings.”

Not trusting that shit at all, he tries to peer inside, getting a quick look in all the windows. The stilted foundation isn’t too high, which is good.

The sign was telling the truth. It was an old couple’s house based on the pictures on the walls. Nice spot to retire, minus all the backwoods hikers they prolly had peeping into their windows at all hours.

After Y/N loudly asks twice something to effect of “If anyone is inside, say somethin’. We don’t mean any harm, but there will be two armed adults will be coming in the house unless you speak up!” he finally barges in.

And Y/N is M-A-D about it. “What the fuck, man? We could’ve waited a sec just in case somebody responded, what if they couldn’t hear us? Hello? We’re sorry!” they then shout loudly, as if to somebody hiding in a closet or whatever.

“You were wastin’ time.”

“Screw you, no I wasn’t,” they hissed as they hurried down the short hallway and turned into a room, pistol still out just in case as she quickly peeks into the few rooms in here.

You

Asshole! Such a brainless, mangy, hick of an asshole dickhead! What if there had been people in here? They would’ve been terrified! Shit would’ve gone down, just like shit went down when that bastard broke in and killed Ma—

—Yo. Take the kettle off the burner, Y/N. Calm down.

You good?

Your best friends in the before-times, Zee and Suri, used to say “offering up” physical and emotional pain was a good thing to do.

Well, the day’s more than half-through and you feel like you’ve offered up a month’s worth.

Your neck and injured shoulder are so achy they’re turning stiff and feel like a poker is sticking into them, your stitches are sore like a son-of-a-bitch, you feel nauseated. Well, you were insistent to head out today, and you know you’d be going crazy back at the farmhouse if you weren’t out here searching.

Seventy-two hours has almost past since she went missing.

Not that it’s a magical, cursed number that means Sophia will die as soon as the clock reaches three days, but…

After peeking under the bed and in the closet, you head over to the small room on the other side of the hallway to check under there.

This place is very clean. Sophia would’ve felt safe here. But there aren’t any signs of her.

Heading back out is very tempting.

You kneel down to look under the bed and get distracted by the particularly loud sudden uptick in the downpour. That’s how Dad died, flash flood. You don’t want to risk it, but…seventy-two hours is almost here. You don’t want risk not risking it if it means finding a scared, vulnerable missing child.

Him

This tiny house is a dead end. The pantry is empty, drawers are picked clean. The house is strangely clean, too, no sign of anybody having camped out. Maybe the bedrooms, though?

He steps down the hall and goes into the room opposite the one she went in.

Smoothly, he crouches to peek under the bed—and immediately lets out an expletive when he sees a face staring back at him from the other side, just as alarmed, at the same time a very loud thunderclap cracks and the sky lights up.

“Mother fu—Y/N?”

After cracking up (and cutting off with a wince because it hurt), Y/N explains, “That boom scared the giblets outta me.”

Giblets? “Same.”

“I also didn’t expect to see your face under there.”

“Same.” After seeing that instead of standing up, they rest their head against side the bed (?), he figures he might as well ask, “Why were you lookin’ under there?”

“Wanted to see if there was a sign our girl had been here.”

Smart. “Checkin’ under there is a good idea, that’s exactly where I used to hi—” Annnnd luckily he shuts his mouth right then.

Why he started to share that, he got no idea.

He and Y/N are friends, but why would he yap about some mopey bullshit from when he was a kid?

Although he wishes they hadn’t noticed at all, at least they don’t react to what he’d said by getting all pitiful and awkward, which is a relief.

What she does do is make a thoughtful nod as if she understands. “Let’s check the rest of the home. Well, what little there is. Under the beds, in the closets, and under desks.” This was followed by an unintentional groan as they stood up and curled toward their injured side. Must’ve hurt. “We’ve also found—sorry, we used to find—our, um, our kids hidden behind bigger things like couches, too. Oh, or the bath, um…bathtub, if there is one.”

Her kids? Her kids…oh, right. “By ‘kids,’ you mean how y’all took in fosters, yeah?”

She’s mentioned that her ma was a foster mom. And the pic of her ‘middle sister’ he’d gotten a peek at once looked nothing like Shane or like her.

Now, foster parents can be shitty, but from what they’d said about their ma, she seemed like a stand-up lady. And, obviously Y/N gets along with kids no problem.

“Sorry, yeah, my foster siblings. Well, Mama taught me to think of them as cousins who stayed with us awhile. But, you know, as I g-got older, I couldn’t help but start to feel more and more parental towards them, than as my little cousins.”

He could see that…“You’re how old?”

“You’re around six and a half years older than Glenn and I,” they reminded him, noticing a small, ticking analog clock on a shelf and taking it.

He felt his cheeks heat again. Probably the humidity from the storm outside.

“Anyway, um, a number of my ki—my siblings,” she corrected herself, “over the years, when they were new and didn’t feel safe, sometimes they’d drag their, um, wrappy thing, uh, blanket—blanket and pillow, and curl up in one of them places.”

They’re stumbling over their words a lot today. They okay?

She lets out an exhale and quietly says to nobody in particular, “Sophia could have so easily been one of ours for a while, ain’t that strange to think about?”

That sentence confuses him a little.

“Carol only lived a few towns over from us, so I found out,” she told him by way of explanation, which means she was considering how Sophia could have had to live in foster care for a while, had shit gone down a little too hard at home.

Stupidly, he starts to think about how he’d sometimes wanted for nothing more than another place to crash in when he was a kid. A house that felt safe. Mopey Darylina.

“There’s gotta be somethin’ in this house worth giving to the poor woman,” Y/N comments out loud, heading off to look around.

It’s a quick search through the small house as he and Y/N look for any signs of somebody having camped out.

There are none. He even checked the crawlspace attic.

But there’s no going anywhere else for now, not with the storm out there. Plus, this house is on steel stilts, that means they’re in a flood zone.

He flops down on the bed across from the room Y/N was in.

Fuck. He hopes Sophia has a shelter right now. She’s gotta, she’s got to be in some kind of shelter.

You

You found painkillers and a TENS unit here, that’s cool. You took some painkillers, that was also cool. Nothing really suited to be a gift for Carol that wasn’t a tiny figurine or a cardigan, that wasn’t as cool. And you and Daryl are also stuck here, that’s not cool at all.

And what Daryl accidentally hinted about his childhood wasn’t cool, either. But it made sense and it’s very sad.

He must’ve been so like some of the foster siblings you had over the years. You won’t pry because that’s rude, but given his hesitation to touch, his standoffishness, lack of routine self-care, and hot-headedness (not to mention how his older brother was), you have an idea of what his household was like growing up. You make a mental note to be more mindful about things like casual touches.

Then you adjust your position on the bed and wish you were anywhere else.

Don’t get you wrong, you are thrilled to be able to rest on a clean bed, but not when the clock was ticking...but really, there’s another analog clock in here and it’s ticky-tick-tocking away very obnoxiously as if to constantly remind you that the longer time passes, the greater the chance Sophia won’t be found breathing. Or at all.

What kind of shelter was she in right now? What if people found her? Were they good people or—no, stop thinking about those ‘what ifs.’

Him

He is so damned restless, but it’s still raining cats and dogs and damn near fucking horses out there.

He gets up and paces around again, fuming around the tiny home.

There isn’t any kind of hint that Sophia came by here. This little house is almost spotless. Ransacked, sure, but clean as hell, even the beds were made.

Sophia would’ve felt way safer here than at that nasty house with the closet cot…no, no doubts, Dixon. That house had the first real lead since the spot when her trail in the woods suddenly veered off in the opposite direction from the highway.

He stalks back to the window and stares out at the downpour. Time is being wasted with this bullshit storm.

Y/N had been pacing around, too, but was now laying on the bed in the back room. Not sure how the hell she can rest at a time like this. He’d been hesitant to let them come with him, with their injuries—not that he could tell them what to do, but they’d wanted his approval and kept trying to convince him yesterday until he became convinced. Another thing he begrudgingly liked about them.

Yeah, it was better with Y/N. They were honest, tough, and cared about shit. And now they’re laying down.

“Hey, man.”

Never mind, they’re up.

“Daryl, I’m going stir-crazy in here.”

“You and me both,” he grunts.

“It’s almost 72-hours, it’s thunderin’ and lightning, and our girl is out there. I-I ain’t fixing to go out and get us killed but if we leave now, it’s better than if we wait,” they stammer. “The wandermays—uh, waterways—will only get fuller the longer we wait.”

Kinda dramatic to say they’d ‘get killed’ by going out in the storm.

“What, worried you’ll melt?” he jokes about the rain.

They snort and mumble something about having made that joke themself before, but they add softly, “I was talking about the flood risk.”

“You ain’t wrong. The waterways will only get fuller the longer we wait.”

She eyes the door. “Time’s a-wastin’.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

What would they think about the clues in that house, he wonders?

Yeah, you know what? He and Y/N are gonna go back there. To that house.

Now.

To hell with waiting out the storm, the day’s almost over, they need to find that little girl!

That poor kid has been alone in a world where monsters are real and people are worse—she needs to be found. The rain is liable to wash away any hint of a trail left. Like Y/N said, time’s a-wasting.

“We gonna do this, then?” he asks, tossing his head toward the door as he grabs his stuff.

She inhales sharply in pain after moving wrong as she hoists her backpack on. “I think so.”

“Stick close.”

“Naturally.”

“I ain’t gonna go slow.”

“Perfect, I ain’t no slowpoke.”

He nods. Smiles. “M’glad you’re here. It’s better with a friend.” And after cupping their arm for a moment, he shouts, “Let’s head out, c’mon!” as he flings the front door open and sprints out into the thunderstorm.

__________________________

@spenciepoo338

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starsofmilos · 2 years

Text

Runaway (Adrian Chase x reader)

Synopsis: Adrian and you get into an argument but he completely forgets that your someone who will runaway from your problems when overwhelmed.

Ahhh I wanted some angst comfort!! I’ve just been really craving reassurance as well.

Masterlist

Warnings: arguing, mentions of violence, emotional trauma mentioned, shitty parents, angst, fluff, comfort

It was an accident.

Really in all honesty it was, but you were terrified. You knew how much this meant to him. You were just trying to help.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you stared at the crack along Adrian’s helmet visor. Adrian had been going through a tough time as of late.

He’d been running himself exhausted with his work and all the missions he’d been doing with the team.

Along with his nightly patrols that he now might not be able to do until his visor is fixed. You whimpered trying to come up with a solution before he came home.

“Fuck!”

Today was supposed to be a relaxing day, Adrian and you hadn’t been able to spend time as of late so he told you to come over to spend the weekend at his place.

You practically lived there, but since he’s been busy you felt weird staying there without him even though he reassured plenty of times you were wanted there.

In fact Adrian had actually planned on asking you to move in with him, but you didn’t know that.

Once you had gotten there you wanted to surprise him so you showered and cleaned his place up along with making food for you both to eat.

Only to trip really hard on one of his shoes sticking out that you hadn’t noticed and land on his bag full of his gear. The second you heard the crack, you ignored the pain from you knees immediately inspecting the damage.

Which led to now.

“He’s gonna be so angry...” You sniffled a bit trying not to cry as you stood up to get changed quickly. The front door opening made you grow more anxious as you walked out holding his helmet sniffling.

Hopefully Adrian would forgive you. This was important to him. You broke it. You weren’t an emotional person, but the thought of disappointing the one person you held dear made you wanna break down.

“I’m home!- Oh crap Y/N you okay? Are you crying?” You looked down holding out his helmet.

“I’m so sorry..I didn’t meant too! I fell and I heard the crack! I’m so sorry!” You shook a bit as Adrian sighed grabbing it from you.

“Shit..Shit! I’m gonna have to replace it..” You whimpered as he set it loudly down on the table.

“How did you fall?” He asked a bit exasperated.

“I was cleaning and must’ve not noticed one of your shoes after my shower-”

“Why did you clean? Y/N you shouldn’t have touched anything!” You flinched a bit as he slammed his hand on the table.

Adrian was trying really hard to keep his cool, but was frustrated. He knew you didn’t mean it, but by this point his mouth wouldn’t seem to stop moving.

“God fuck! I’m not gonna be able to go on patrol for a while! Or missions!” You kept your gaze down feeling overwhelmed by his yelling.

Adrian knew you like the back of his hand. There were some things you chose not to share with him. Like how you grew up in a home were a simple accident had you sobbing from how bad your mother and father would yell at you.

How they treated you and how it caused you to shutdown in tense situations. Had he known maybe he would’ve walked away to calm down instead of spewing what he decided to say next.

“Did you do this on purpose so I can’t go? I know we haven’t spent time together-”

“No! Adrian I swear I would never! I’m sorry it really was an accident-”

“It’s fine I fucking guess! I just fuck dude! Fuck!” Adrian pinched his forehead sighing before taking off to the room.

“I’m really sorry Adrian! I didn’t mean too! I promise! I made food if you’d like some-”

“No Y/N just stop I need some fucking time.” He slammed the bedroom door harshly.

You sniffled feeling the tears you were holding back come out. Covering your mouth to muffle your sobs you moved to the kitchen cleaning up the small mess from cooking before putting the food away in tupperware.

Crying as you sat on the couch, you kept everything off not wanting to bother Adrian more than you already did.

You were honestly contemplating on going home. You made Adrian upset and he probably didn’t want you here anymore. You quietly walked to the room wanting to try to talk stopping as you heard his soft snores.

He must’ve fallen asleep from exhaustion. You sniffled once more feeling the overwhelming guilt consuming you. What if Adrian didn’t want to see you for a bit after this?

You grabbed your shoes slipping them on before grabbing your bag heading out. Your car was in the shop so you had walked to Adrian’s place, and you didn’t wanna pester Adrian for a ride home so you started the walk home.

Letting your sobs out as you made your way home.

Adrian woke up a good hour later feeling around for you next to him.

“Y/N?” He sat up seeing you not next to him groaning as he remembered the small argument.

“Shit..” He sighed standing up making his way to the living room. He knew he was way more harsh than he should have been.

Adrian felt like crap once he finally noticed just how clean everything was. He felt even worse seeing the tupperware of food sitting on the counter with a small sticky note for him.

‘Hey I know you’re sleeping and I didn’t wanna bother you so I thought maybe I’ll go home today.

I’m sorry again Adrian I really didn’t mean it. You can eat the food and call me when you’re feeling up to it.

Love you.’

Adrian felt guilt gnaw at him seeing his favorite. You cleaned and made him food and he went and yelled at you for something you didn’t mean to do.

He was an asshole.

Adrian gripped the counter fully remembering what had happened. You had been trying to make him happy. Adrian gripped his hair realizing how you said you had fallen and he didn’t even care enough to check on you.

Immediately he tried to call you cursing as he saw your phone on the counter. Adrian didn’t hesitate grabbing his keys to go to your apartment.

You weren’t home though. Whenever you grew upset you kinda became a wanderer. It had been a habit since you were a kid.

Anytime your parents had decided to yell and take out their stress from the day on you, you’d end up taking off for a couple of hours wanting to not be anywhere near them.

Now you upset Adrian. You felt way worse upsetting Adrian than you ever did when your parents would yell at you.

You sniffled wiping your eyes again jumping as you heard a car honk. Turning behind you, you tilted your head seeing Adrian jump out of his car running to you.

“Oh thank fucking god!” You made a small muffled yelp as he enveloped you into a deep hug.

“I was so fucking worried! You weren’t home and you left your phone at my place! Why did you leave?! Fuck me I’m so fucking relieved.”

Adrian had been driving around desperately looking for you. He grew terrified at the thought of you alone outside this late at night.

“Come on..” You nodded quietly as he took you to his car. He buckled you in kissing your knuckles before getting in the driver side.

The car ride was silent. Adrian was waiting on you to speak and you were too scared to say anything.

Adrian sighed once you both walked into his place as you sat on the couch scooting away a bit when he moved next to you.

“I’m sorry.” He hesitantly pulled you into a hug. “I’m really sorry Y/N I was a dick earlier-”

“No no! Don’t apologize! It was my fault-”

“No it wasn’t it was an accident. I know it was an accident. I just had a bad day, but that gave me no excuse to yell at you the way I did.” Adrian felt horrible as you sniffled trying not to cry.

“I really am sorry..I would never break it on purpose just so we could spend time together I do miss you but I know how important it is to you..I swear I would never..”

“I know. I know you wouldn’t that was stupid of me to even suggest that. You have nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Why did you leave though?”

“I thought you didn’t want me here anymore. You said you needed some time-”

“To calm down sweetheart. Doesn’t mean I didn’t want you here. I love when you’re here. Just because I’m upset doesn’t mean I want you to go. I never want you to go. Even though I was upset I still wanted you in bed next to me.”

Adrian sighed as you cried a bit into his chest. He rubbing small circles into your back letting you sob a bit on him.

“I didn’t wanna make you so sad. I really am sorry Y/N..My helmet doesn’t matter-”

“Yes it does! You need it and I was an idiot and broke it!”

“No you are not an idiot. I am. I yelled at you and left my stupid shoe out. My helmet doesn’t matter to me. You do. I promise.”

“I thought you were gonna hate me..”

“No no no! Y/N no matter how upset or angry I ever get nothing will ever fucking get me to hate you. I fucking adore you. I love you so much. I’m so fucking sorry..”

You sniffled returning his hug back wanting to feel him close. Adrian gripped you tightly. Angry at himself for letting you go and for making you feel like crap.

“I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry..” You nodded against him pulling back to wipe your face. Adrian stopped you though using his sleeve to clean you up.

“There’s my girl..Don’t cry over something I stupidly did..You’re worth way more than that..”

“I felt bad though..I upset you.”

“You didn’t. I was already upset and just took it out on you and I shouldn’t have. I love you and I should appreciate you way more than I do.”

You smiled a bit as he kissed your cheek. He stopped though hearing you wince a bit when he adjusted you on his lap.

“Are you hurt?” You looked away nodding.

“I hurt my knee when I fell..I didn’t get a chance to clean it cause I was worried you were gonna be angry at me..”

Adrian sighed setting you gently down beside him on the couch as he got the first aid kit.

You let him clean your scrape smiling as he kissed it gently after. “I’m such a shitty boyfriend letting the love of my fucking life be hurt and not doing anything about it sooner..”

“No you’re a good boyfriend-”

“No Y/N today I was not. I love you so fucking much. You should be way more upset with me with the way I treated you. You matter way more to me than some stupid helmet.”

You nodded as he adjusted you to sit on his lap cuddling you close. You grabbed his face kissing him softly.

“I love when you’re here so much..Please next time just yell at me or cry or scream instead of leaving. Don’t leave. Don’t run away..I always want you here.”

“I just felt really bad..My mom and dad would send me off when I was smaller anytime they got upset and I thought you wanted the same-”

“Fuck your mom and dad..I could never send you away. Never. We may get upset at each other or angry, but that never means that I want you to go away.”

“You sure?..”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else besides the fact that I love you. Just because I’m angry doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. And this time me being angry was way out of hand. I had no right to do what I did to you.”

You sniffled kissing him once more. “I’m sorry I ran..”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you had too. You don’t have to runaway from me. I was frustrated, but I never wanted you to go. I was a dick and I will spend the rest of my life to never make this mistake again because you are the one I wanna spend the rest of my life with.”

“Even though I broke something of yours?” You nervously mumbled. Adrian chuckled a bit nodding.

“Yeah. You should’ve thrown the helmet at me with the way I treated you.”

“I could never hurt you. I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong now wanna eat some food with me and get some much needed rest. I’ll fix my helmet tomorrow and we can spend the rest of this weekend renting a moving truck to get your stuff in here.”

“Wait why would we get my stuff in here?”

“Fuck! I forgot to ask! I planned on asking you to move in! Here I was fucking thinking you said yes already!”

You laughed as Adrian groaned. He grinned though as you bent over a bit still chuckling.

“Will you move in with me-”

“Yes you dummy. I love you..”

“I love you too. Now I’m gonna spend the rest of the night making it up to you because you are so much to me.”

You smiled feeling loved and safe. Adrian was your safe space. He kissed you lifting you over his shoulder laughing as you yelped dangling off of him.

#adrian chase #fanfiction #adrian chase x reader #vigilante fanfiction #adrian chase x you #vigilante x reader #vigilante peacemaker #fanfic #peacemaker #adrian chase peacemaker

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sanakotsu · 1 year

Text

Aira Shiratori Idol Story: The Happiness of Spreading Love / Chapter 2

〈Next week〉

Aira: (I haven’t been able to talk to Anzu-san since then…)

(...No, it’s not that I haven’t been able to. I’ve just been avoiding her.)

(Okay, I’ve decided! I’ll contact her on HallHands tomorrow to talk about my feature live.)

(But she hasn’t even gotten an off shot photo yet…)

(Uu… I’m getting all depressed about our future talk! I don’t wanna go…)

(I really am so pathetic. If there’s something I don’t want to do, I’ll immediately run away.)

(I want to do something about it, but if I knew how then I wouldn’t be having such a hard time right now…)

(I shouldn’t think like that. Worrying won’t do any good. Today is the release event and I’m done with work!)

(Jeez, how long am I gonna keep this gloomy expression. It’d be rude of me to see my oshis and not have fun!

(I’ll think about the off shot stuff after the release event! …Alright, time to go ♪)

Huh? Who’s in the doorway?

Anzu-san?! Why is she here? Is she looking for me…?

(Uh oh, our eyes met. S-She’s coming over here?! I knew it, she was looking for me!)

(She has a scary look on her face…She’s definitely mad at me for avoiding her!)

(I want to run away again but that’s exactly what got me in this mess in the first place, and I’m still scared!)

Kohaku: Ko ko ko ♪ Caught you, Love-han.

Aira: Kohakucchi?! When did you get behind me?!

Kohaku: Sorry about that. You guys still need to talk face to face so I gave a helping hand.

Aira: What?! Kohakucchi, you traitor…but I’ll forgive you.

Wait Anzu-san, why are you so close?! Uu…I’m sorry for avoiding you!

Huh? You’re not…mad? There’s just something you wanna know?

Kohaku: We’ve actually been wondering about this for a while now. Why did you leave that day?

Aira: I told you, I went to meet with Hiro-kun…

Kohaku: But Hiiro-han said he wasn’t with you that day.

Aira: H-How did you…?

Kohaku: I think it was because we kept talking about something you didn’t like.

Hey Love-han, do you hate the idea of using your love of idols for the off shot?

Aira: Uu… I knew you guys were going to bring it up.

Is it because I’m too embarrassed to talk about my hobby?

No! I’ve never thought of it that way!

Kohaku: Then why did you run away?

Aira: It’s just that…how do I say this, um…

It’s true that I’m an idol lover but surely the fans are tired of seeing me like this, right?

So I thought it’d be wouldn’t good for the off shot…

Kohaku: I see. If you had just said that from the beginning, you wouldn’t have needed to run away.

Is there anything else?

Aira: Well…Eeek! Why are you so close, Anzu-san?! You want to hear the truth…?

And you won’t move untill I tell the truth? Somehow you’re so persistent today!

Aira: Okay, okay! I’ll tell you!

The fans would come to the live because they like me, right?

But would they be happy to see me all excited over another idol?

It feels weird to think about—is that the me they want to see?

And then, I couldn’t think of any other ideas since, if it’s online, I can just take a bunch of selfies…

But everyone already knows what I’m like outside of those usual photos.

...So I still didn’t know what would be good for the pamphlet.

In the end, I had to use the idols I love as reference.

Kohaku: So that’s what happened… Thanks for being honest, Love-han.

Aira: Sorry for not saying anything. It must’ve been really annoying for you two to deal with.

Kohaku: Now that we know what happened, let’s get going then, Anzu-han.

Aira: Going…? Huh? You guys want to go to the release event with me?

I mean, I don’t mind, but you guys won’t be able to get in.

Is that okay?

You’ll be waiting for me so I should just enjoy the event?

If you guys are really okay with it…

〈A few hours later at the release event venue.〉

Kohaku: Oh, he's back, Anzu-han.

He~y, Love-han. How was the event?

Aira: It was the best…! So rabui ♪

Kohaku: Ko ko ko ♪ I can tell how much fun you had based on your expression.

Aira: The live broadcast…the MC…even the minigame segment was all so amazing…!

I’m so glad I held out for this day…I’m so happy I came here ♪

Kohaku: Towels, pins, tote bags, and shirts… Looks like you bought a lot.

Aira: Of course I did! All this stuff is limited to this event only, and my favorite thing I bought is—...

Aira: Did you take a picture just now? …For the feature live?

Hm… I know I said this before, but will the fans really be happy seeing me fanboy over other idols?

It’ll be fine because of how happy I look?

Kohaku: I think so too, Love-han. The you in front of us right now is overflowing with happiness.

Just looking at you is making me feel happy too ♪

Aira: Kohakucchi, you’ve said that to me before already.

Kohaku: Well, when you see someone special to you so happy, you can’t help but feel happy yourself, y’know?

That’s probably why I like going to idol shops with you.

I get to see so many happy expressions from you. See, even Anzu-han agrees.

Aira: People will be happy just seeing others having fun doing the things they love?

I see…You’re right. It’s the same with me when I see my oshis laughing and smiling.

I don’t want to just see the audience’s smiles, I want them to see the smile of the idol they love…

I think that’s what they want too.

Thank you, guys. We can use that picture for the pamphlet.

Because if the fans are happy seeing me chase after another idol…

...then that’d make me happy too ♪

Kohaku: Ko ko ko ♪ Love-han’s happiness makes all the fans happy, and the fans’ happiness makes Love-han happy.

With all that happiness bouncing back and forth, surely it’d never end.

Aira: Then it’s decided! Take more and more photos!

I'll make sure all my fans feel the same happiness I do! Aira~bu! ☆

#enstars translation #aira shiratori #kohaku oukawa

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justminawrites · 11 months

Text

Of Ribbons and Other Lost Things - Chapter 1: Symphony of Broken Hearts

AO3

1 | 2 | 3 | TBC

Summary: Marinette is about to tell her best friend the truth after a full year of lying: she is Ladybug. But the forces of the universe don't seem to like this idea. [Starts off right at the end of Gang of Secrets.]

“If I tell you things will never be the same between us again! It’ll mess up everything— maybe even destroy it!"

"Marinette.. I'm your very best friend.."

"And I— I’m.. Multimouse."

Luka Couffaine figured the akuma attack must’ve been bad if he could still remember every single detail over a week after it happened.

Truth had been one of the nastier ones; not just in terms of how conveniently his secret-exposing powers could’ve been misused, but also because of the can of worms it had already opened. No matter how many ‘miraculous ladybugs’ came after it, Luka could never unknow that Jagged Stone– his hero, his idol, his inspiration for years, that Jagged Stone– was his father.

Or how he’d subsequently tossed said father off the roof of a hotel minutes after his confession.

“Thanks for the pizza, Luka!”

“It’s no problem, Rose,” he replied, absentmindedly stuffing the both the notes and the tip into the pocket of his slate-blue jacket as he hopped back onto the bike. He’d just split them later, when he could close his eyes without recalling flashes of Ladybug’s yoyo or Chat Noir’s spotlit face twisting with panic.

Without remembering Anarka Couffaine’s panicked sobs as she pulled him in for a hug, when he’d finally made his way back home.

Rose Lavillant, his fellow band member and sisters’ girlfriend, frowned, reaching over her patio-fence to immobilise him by grabbing the bike’s wicker-basket with one hand and waving the other in front of his face.

“What’s going on?” She asked, giving the basket a little shake.

“Nothing,” Luka tried to discreetly tug his bicycle back but her grip was iron-tight, “Why.. Did– did Jule say something?”

His sister had been on his case almost as much as his mother.

Luka had always been the rational one in his family; the one to keep peace, go with the flow, take everything in stride, but he’d very nearly gotten re-akumatised when a certain purple-haired, black-goateed, I-was-too-lame-to-take-care-of-a-kid rockstar greeted him over Anarka’s shoulder by calling him ‘son.’

I’m not your son, he’d hissed with finality, and slammed the door to the room he and Juleka shared. He remembered unfairly snapping at his sister that night too, when she’d dared to suggest reconciliation.

It was a mixture of shock, heartbreak, and loneliness so severe, he wondered if the akuma hadn’t poisoned him beyond repair. He’d lost his best-friend, his girlfriend, and his hero, all in the span of five short hours.

Luka was sure everyone on the Liberty could hear the crying that night, despite how hard he’d tried to muffle the sound with his pillow.

“Is this about Marinette?” The blonde blurted out bluntly, oblivious to the way he flinched back into reality, “–because I don’t think she’s that upset about it to be honest.”

And, Marinette. He didn’t even know where to begin with Marinette.

“Maybe a little frazzled by the breakup, but not seriously disturbed in any way, which is weird because you did break into her house, but I’m sure she’ll forgive you if you just–“

“Thank you for the concern, Rose,” Luka interrupted firmly, plucking her fingers free of his bike, “But this is about something else.”

He adjusted the empty thermal food delivery bag, ensuring there was no way this one would fly off, akuma attack be damned, and hoisted himself onto the seat.

“Could you tell Jule to head back without me today? I’ve got an interview.”

It wasn’t the entire truth (God knows that hadn’t gotten him anywhere anyway), but it wasn’t the real reason he couldn’t pick up his sister either.

For the past week, Jagged had been showing up unannounced to the Liberty, armfuls of gifts (usually discontinued merch) in tow, determined to suddenly spend time with his children, and Luka was sure he was going to go insane.

Anarka chased him off the ship with a broom the first dozen times, No stowaways on my ship, ya scallywag!, but after he’d brought her a present too (a noise permit she’d gleefully shoved in Roger’s face), she let him stay till curfew.

Luka could usually avoid him last-minute– the gaudy purple tour bus parked right by the dock was a dead giveaway– but it wasn’t a sure-fire solution. So he reverted to plan B: a part-time job (or two) that would keep him till late, and away from his admittedly well-meaning father until he could figure out how he felt about all this.

Sort the sour tune of guilt and betrayal from the tiny notes of fondness that had begun to echo within him.

“Sure, I’ll tell her.”

Luka ducked his head gratefully and clipped on his yellow helmet, resisting the urge to rub the sleep-deprivation off of his face.

Now the only problem left was to find a place that would keep him busy till curfew, but was still flexible enough work around his pizza delivery schedule.

“But Luka–“ He turned back.

Rose was nibbling on her right thumb nail as she gave him a once over with her cartoonishly-blue eyes, “Are you okay?”

He smiled weakly instead of lying.

...

“If I tell you, things will never be the same between us again! It’ll mess up everything– maybe even destroy it!”

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was going to reveal her identity as Ladybug to her best friend, Alya Cesaire.

It’d been decided for her, the moment Alya had shut the trap door and gently confronted Marinette about her lies. She couldn’t keep it from her best friend, she’d only barely managed to keep it from Luka last week, and if it wasn’t meant to be then the universe wouldn’t have kept her back here... because.. because that was how things worked now.. right?

If Bunnix or a future version of herself didn’t pop out from a glowing portal to make sure she’d changed her decision, it probably meant that it was the correct one... or at least Marinette hoped it was. Because that was the logic she’d been basing almost all of her decisions around since him. She repressed the chill that crept up on her, recalling the ominous tinkle of a snow-white bell, the madness in his blue, blue eyes.

“Marinette.. I’m your very best friend..” Alya for her part, looked shocked by the outburst; it was so unlike her friend to be serious about something. As the brunette squeezed her shoulders softly, dispelling the ghost of Chat Blanc, Marinette made up her mind.

“And I–“ she began, mustering up the courage to look into Alya’s hazel eyes, “I’m–“

“Multimouse!”

“Yes, I’m, wait– what?”

Mullo, the mouse Kwami of Multiplication was hovering in mid-air, holding onto a necklace with a small, circular pendant. Marinette couldn’t be sure, but she had the distinct sense that the kwami was disappointed with her.

“Multimouse?” Alya gasped in delight, “You’re multimouse?”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Mullo said uncharacteristically formal as she dropped the miraculous into Marinette’s lap, “I’m Mullo, Marinette’s kwami.”

“How many times do I need to tell you, Marinette? You can’t forget to wear the miraculous! That’s the whole point!”

She definitely hadn’t imagined it now. The mouse’s normally mischievous tone was dripping with venom.

“I– I’m–“ She mumbled, but the damage was already done. Alya let go of her shoulders to ooh and ahh appropriately at Mullo, and ask the kwami questions she couldn’t actually answer.

Marinette looked around her helplessly, gaze landing on the pink-and-white spotted sewing crate that housed the new Miracle Box, suddenly wondering if Tikki was in there– if this was all her doing.

“What was that you said?”

Mullo’s red eyes narrowed, honing in on the necklace pendant she’d let remain on her lap uselessly, daring Marinette to finish her train of thought. Maybe this was the sign.

“I’m sorry,” she finished lamely, picking up the necklace to latch it around her neck. Master Fu had warned her not to wear too many miraculouses at a time, but she figured only the two couldn’t hurt. Besides, she had to sell this new lie.

“Girl, you know I don’t blame you,” Alya said excitedly, returning to her place on Marinette’s chaise, “Ladybug told you to keep your identity a secret, huh?”

“YeAH,” Marinette replied squeakily, “Ladybug did– she’s um..“

“I know. She’s a little strict about that,” Alya elbowed her good-naturedly, “Still– I’m jealous. You and Chat get to keep yours forever, while some of us have to wait for Ladybug to decide wether or not she needs us.”

“Yeah– well, that’s because.. um..” She wracked her brain to come up with a way to deflect what was definitely her best friend’s passive-aggressive way of asking how she’d convinced Paris’ Greatest Superhero to entrust her with a power permanently.

“Wait,” Marinette pretended to gasp, “Some of ‘us’? Alya, are you..”

She didn’t know what she was expecting. Maybe for Alya to drop the subject, or change the topic - maybe stammer a little over a slip of tongue like she’d been teased for doing so often.

“Yep,” Alya replied nonchalantly, “Rena Rouge at your service.”

Marinette hadn’t expected that.

“Alya!” She covered her friend’s mouth impulsively, before the brunette pushed her away, “You’re not supposed to tell me that!”

“You just told me,” Alya pointed out, “–and there’s no use in hiding it anyway. After what happened with Hawkmoth and Chloé’s mega tantrum last month as Queen Wasp, I doubt she’ll be reinstating me anytime soon.”

“I- I suppose.. you’re right,” Marinette sighed, trying not to let too much defeat into her voice. She didn’t want to accidentally trigger Alya’s journalist senses.

“It’s probably for the best,” her friend looked down, “I’m not really cut out for that superhero life, though I’ll miss the little rascal.”

Marinette swallowed the urge to guiltily glance at the sewing box again, inside which Trixx was no doubt eavesdropping on the entire conversation. It was her fault they’d lost, after all; if Ladybug had just de-transformed, if she’d just stuck to the rules that Master Fu had set out for her, he’d still be.. they’d all be..

“But I’m still happy for you, Marinette!” Alya smiled, pulling her into a side-hug, “It’s a little scary but it’s exciting isn’t it? Being a real-life superhero?”

“It’s a lot of pressure,” She managed, sinking into the warmth of her friend’s hug. For a brief second, she wondered if this what it would’ve felt like if she’d told Alya nine months ago, when she’d first come into possession of the little miraculous box with the earrings. It felt nice.

Before Marinette could stop herself, all of her fears tumbled out.

“What if- what if I’m not cut out for this, Alya?”

“What’re you on about?”

Marinette was talking about being the Guardian, of course, but her friend didn’t know that.

“What if I mess everything up, and the miraculouses get stolen or what if I get akumatised and Hawk Moth– Shadow Moth now– finds out my identity and what if he takes them.. er.. it. What if he hurts my family or the bakery and what if the ladybugs can’t fix it and Chat’s already mad that I’m... um she’s keeping things from him, what if I break up the team, what if–“

“Marinette,” Alya pulled back and shook her by the shoulders to stop the overflow of words, watching tears fill up her friend’s eyes.

“I’m scared, Alya. I’m scared and tired, and tired of being scared and scared of being too tired, and I broke up with Luka because he just keeps getting akumatised when I’m around and he didn’t sign up to date a superhero anyway. So it’s not fair, to him or Adrien or anyone I might like in the future.”

“Maybe I should just quit now before I royally screw up.” Again, Marinette added in her head.

Alya fell silent at that, cupping her chin in contemplation. “Okay, quit.” She said finally.

Marinette’s head went blank as she looked at her friend in disbelief.

“But– but–“

“Quit,” Alya offered, more confidently this time, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t just–“

“Why not?”

“Because– Ladybug– I mean..“

“Ladybug can always give your miraculous to someone else. There can be another Multimouse. Why can’t you quit, Marinette?”

“Because it’s wrong,” she said quietly. Because I don’t have a choice.

“No– because it’s you,” Alya corrected, taking Marinette’s hands in hers and giving them a quick squeeze.

“What’s me?”

“Multimouse.. she’s a part of you, just as much as Marinette is.”

“But I’m so clumsy and forgetful, what if I–“

“Someone entrusted you with this miraculous because they know how capable you are. Other people can see things in you that you can’t always see.”

A flash of Master Fu’s soothing chuckle and sympathetic face came to her, and the tears she’d hidden threatened to rise up again.

“You’re kind and sweet and a loyal friend, Marinette,” Alya’s brown eyes filled with genuine admiration for her, “You’ve got a good heart, girl– you just need to trust it a little more.”

“You’re our everyday Ladybug for a reason, you know?”

“Okay,” She released a long breath.

While it wasn’t exactly how she’d intended the conversation to go, Marinette felt strangely better after talking to Alya and getting some, if not all, of her worries off her chest.

“You’re right, I just had a bad moment. I can recover from this.”

“Of course you can.” Alya cheered, “You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You can do anything!”

She felt the blush rise to her cheeks.

While she received praise daily for masquerading as Ladybug, Marinette was still unused to people complimenting her civilian identity, especially since she’d always just been silly Marinette to everyone; silly Marinette, clumsy Marinette, awkward, uncoordinated, foot-in-her-mouth Marinette. To everyone except– well, there was no use in thinking about him either.

“C’mon,” Alya grabbed her hand, making for the trap door, “Let’s see if we can get some ice-cream. All this superhero talk's got me in the mood for André’s LadyNoir special.”

“Ugh,” Marinette made a face, “You know they aren’t actually dating right–“

“I know, girl,” Alya giggled, “It’s just half-price for the next few days!”

“Fine, I’m coming.”

Marinette caught a glimpse of a red and black-spotted kwami flitting out of the sewing box to wave her over. Marinette, she could hear Tikki’s tiny voice in her ear, We need to talk.

“Nino just texted, the cart’s by Le Grand Paris hotel today,” Alya smiled fondly down at her phone, and Marinette tore her eyes away from her kwami’s frantic beckoning.

“I- I’ll catch up with you, I just need to grab something first.”

“Alright, but don’t take too long Marinette,” the brunette lowered herself down the stairs, “–or should I call you Multi-nette now?”

“Alya!” She cried, scandalised.

Her friend’s head disappeared with a wink.

“What about Mousinette then?”

“ALYA!”

______________________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER ->

A/N: So let's all imagine that Gang of Secrets went very differently and Ladybug did not enlist Alya's help to defeat the akuma. What would have happened then? I present to you: this fic.

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q-gorgeous · 2 years

Text

coup de foudre chapter 8

ao3

ffn

barkbarkbark this is one of the first chapters i wrote

They were stargazing again. It was quiet in the park tonight. They laid on their backs in the grass, the blades dewy, staring up at the sky.

“No way, that actually happened when you tried asking a girl out?” Dash laughed. “I didn’t even realize you had pants, I thought your jumpsuit was all one piece!”

“Haha, yeah,” Danny said, scratching his face. “This actually happened when I was, uh, alive. So I was in fact wearing pants that day.”

Dash sobered up at the mention of Phantom’s life. “I’m sorry that you never got the chance to go out with her.”

“Actually, I did.” Danny shrugged. “But she was mean to my friends. We only dated so she could steal me from my friend because she thought we were dating.”

“Oh man. That’s messed up.”

“Tell me about it.”

They sat there in silence again as they watched the sky.

“Believe it or not,” Dash started, “I haven’t had much luck with girls.”

“Seriously?” Phantom sat up and looked down at Dash. “Aren’t you dating that Paulina girl?”

Dash laughed. “I tried getting her to go out with me but I think I weirded her out at first. We eventually became friends though so it turned out alright. I don’t think it would’ve worked out anyways.”

“Why’s that?” Danny asked.

Dash sat there looking at the sky, his hands fidgeting as he kept looking at the stars. He opened his mouth a few times like he was going to start talking but then closed it soon after. After what looked like much deliberation, Dash spoke again.

“Have you ever had feelings for a boy before?”

Danny sputtered and felt a fluttering in his stomach as he looked away from Dash. “Pft, what? No.”

Dash was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

“I think I’m into guys.”

Danny’s eyes opened wide at that as he looked back at Dash, who was still avoiding eye contact.

“I’ve never had feelings for a guy before. But over the last two years…” Dash sighed. “I’m so confused.”

“Why are you confused?” Danny asked.

“It’s complicated. He's some kid from school.”

“Who is he?” It couldn’t hurt to ask. And he was so curious. Maybe Danny could help set them up by talking to him about Dash as Phantom.

Dash looked like he was thinking and deliberating really hard again. Finally he covered his face and whispered a name.

“Danny Fenton.”

Danny freezes.

“What?”

“I’ve bullied this kid for years,” Dash continued without uncovering his face. “He probably hates me. But these last two years… Something changed in him. He’s become more confident, he’s started standing up for himself, he’s also kind of becoming a leader. He’s even gained some muscle.” He groaned. “But I fucked up again not too long ago. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me.”

Danny blushed at what Dash said and shook his head. He suddenly stood up, fumbling and tripping over his feet. “I, uh, I gotta go. My ghost sense just went off. I gotta go find the ghost.”

Dash uncovered his face and looked at him. “Oh, okay.” He sat up and looked around. “I wonder what they’re doing this time? It doesn’t look like anyone is causing a ruckus.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure. But I gotta fly. See you.”

Danny shot up into the air before Dash could say anything and left him looking at Danny flying into the sky.

He didn’t get very far before he was being shot out of the air. He fell to the ground, leaving a trail behind him in the grass, and stopped when he hit a tree. Danny looked up and he saw that same ghost hunter that had been chasing him for the past week, the barrel of his gun still smoking.

Then a bright light appeared around Danny’s waist. It struggled to separate and travel over him but he pushed it back. It appeared and disappeared a few times before Danny finally gave up, growing too tired and letting the rings travel around his body.

The hunter must’ve gotten some new weapons.

Danny heard a gasp and his eyes darted up to look past the ghost hunter. Dash was looking at him with wide eyes, like he was about to dart away at any second.

“I’m not letting you get away this time, ghost.” The ghost hunter charged his weapon again. “I don’t care what kind of freak of nature you are, I’m going to get that bounty even if it kills–”

The ghost hunter fell to the ground as Dash kicked him in the back. As he toppled over, Dash grabbed Danny’s wrist and started pulling him away. They ran towards the edge of the park.

“What the hell is going on, Fenton?” Dash huffed as they ran. “What happened to Phantom?” “Dash, can we talk about this when we’re not running for our lives?”

“No, how the hell–”

Danny’s eyes widened when he saw a GIW agent ahead of them, a gun pointed straight at the both of them. The agent pulled the trigger and a blast flew toward them. Danny shoved Dash to the ground with their next step and the blast narrowly missed them. Just as Danny looked up, he was grabbed from behind.

“Hey, let me go!” Danny shouted.

“Can it, ghost. You’re government property now.”

Danny’s blood ran cold. That voice was familiar. When he turned his head to look he saw that it was Agent O. That meant Agent K wouldn’t be very far behind.

“What’s going on? Why are you taking Danny?” Dash asked as he stood up from the ground.

“That’s the kid that took my catch from me the last time!” the ghost hunter shouted, pointing an angry finger at Dash.

“Hmm. A human.” Agent O hummed.

The ghost hunter walked up to stand beside Agent O. “So about collecting my bounty…”

“We will not be paying you.”

“Excuse me?”

Agent O looked the ghost hunter coldly in the eye. “We had to intervene and help you with your catch. That renders the bounty void.”

“What the hell!” the ghost hunter shouted. “You can’t do this to me! You good for nothing swindlers better get me my money or I’ll-”

Danny jumped when Agent O hit the man in the temple and sent him crumpling to the ground.

Then Dash jumped onto Agent O, grabbing him by the shoulders and trying to knock him over.

“Let Danny go!”

“I supposed we should take this human with us just in case he’s like the Fenton boy here. Agent K?”

Danny could feel Dash shift and they both turned their gazes to see Agent K standing there with a small gun. He aimed it at Dash and pulled the trigger. Danny cried out as a dart flew out of the gun and stuck into Dash’s shoulder.

Agent K aimed at Danny. It felt like he was moving in slow motion. A dart hit and Danny felt everything go fuzzy, until eventually he could no longer see Agent K and everything went black.

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #invisobang 2022 #danny fenton #dash baxter #swagger bishie #agent o #giw #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #phic

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