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stardustincarnate · 3 years

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EARLY TRYST // Light Yagami x Reader

word count : 4534 genre : fluff <333 ! crack-ish, pre-kira!light, all that mushy mushy stuff, best friends to lovers because who doesn’t love that trope?

a/n : i’m not sure if i’ve posted this here before but i’m fairly certain that i haven’t oh godric you’ll have to forgive me if i had --

Who wakes up 5:00 early on a Saturday morning just to bug their neighbor to have a match with them?

Technically, you did. You were bored, and the first thing that came to your mind was playing your favorite sport with one of your bestfriends, who's also your neighbor, Light. Surely he wouldn't mind, would he? But it mattered not since he also did the same to you back then, insisting you two bike together just because he wanted a companion and knew you wouldn't refuse. You were hella pissed even so, and now it's your turn to get revenge.

You brought a ladder, placing it just enough to reach the window to his bedroom on the second floor. You eventually climbed up, practically pressing your face against the window to get a clearer sight of him sleeping peacefully on his bed, his angelic face barely visible as it was partially covered with his blanket.

'Say goodbye to your sweet dreams, lover boy.'

You thought and knocked on the window loud enough for him to hear. Your first tries were futile so you knocked a little louder and more violent. To his dismay, Light woke up with a teeny-bit of panic in his chest. Creasing his eyebrow and squinting his eyes, he looked at the window, seeing a familiar figure. You snickered as he awakened, languidly making his way to the window, an irritated look on his face when he met your eyes.

He opened the window. "[Y/N], what the hell are you doing here? What time is it?"

"About time for you to play with me."

"Huh? Play with you? You're acting strangely childish. I was still sleeping." He clicked his tongue. You chuckled and shook your head. "Aw, sleeping beauty is upset because his dream was left unfinished. Don't worry, his dashing savior is here to make him feel better."

"You mean worse."

"Bad!" You playfully punched his shoulder. "Says the one who still has sleep in his eyes."

"Of course I have. You just woke me up." He scowled, turning his back at you and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his face a little flushed.

"Heh, don't be shy!" You teased, wobbling a little in your position.

"I'm not shy! Tch, seriously though, you're in a ladder? You only made it harder for yourself when you could've just knocked on the main door. Mom and dad are already awake. They'd let you in."

"Eh? But I was shy- you know- err, how am I supposed to say 'Can I go to Light's room or something?'" You blushed a little. He hummed in response and gave an understanding look. "Come on in."

"I can't fit in here- just meet me outside. I'll wait for ya."

"You got yourself in this so don't turn back now. You can fit but in another position." Before you could reply, he suddenly grabbed your arms and indicated you to push your head inside. You did, whimpering as he pulled you in by grabbing you by the armpits, your faces almost bumping in the process. You gave a squeal as you felt your feet of the ladder, causing you to grip him tighter, almost hugging him-or maybe even inhaling him.

For a better description you basically looked like a flying fish from outside who's getting devoured by a portal.

With all his might, Light pulled you in until your whole body finally got inside. Of course, as he was secretly anticipating to, you both fell on the ground, with you on top of him, your head against his chest.

You immediately stood up and accidentally stepped on his ankle, resulting a loud whimper from him.

"Oof."

"That hurt, you know."

"Sorry. But-" You both heard a loud crash from outside. You were certain that the ladder you used had fallen, and it was so loud you swore some of your neighbors woke up. "...As I was saying... That was a dangerous way to get me inside. I could've fallen."

"Too bad you didn't."

"How rude!" You scoffed. You jauntily walked towards his bed, flopping down as if it's your own. It felt so soft, and it kinda smelled like him too.

You closed your eyes and spread your arms. His expression softened that he couldn't hide a smile which you thankfully didn't see. He cleared his throat and picked up a pillow, throwing it at your face.

"Hey, I'll go get some coffee. Want some?"

"I've already drank one, but sure!"

"No wonder you're already so hyper. Now get out of my bed."

"Fine." You scoffed and got up, walking behind him on the way downstairs, making yourself smaller so they wouldn't notice.

"Light! You're up early." Sachiko greeted.

"Yeah, and it's her fault." He slid right to reveal your cowering figure. You shyly greeted his mother, flushing pink. "Oh hello [Y/N]! I didn't see you come in. Were you in Light's room the whole night? You two had a sleep-over..?"

"No mom. Why would we do that? She just has her own ways of disturbing my sleep. Is dad still here?"

"He's on the living room and just about to leave. I'll make you two breakfast."

"That's not necessary. We just need some coffee, after that we'll.. What are we gonna do again?"

"Play badminton outside."

"It's still a bit dark, don't you think?"

"It's alright. The sun is about to rise. It'll rise quickly." Light replied to his mom, taking two cups and then pouring hot water on them. "Mild coffee [Y/N]?"

"Nope. Black coffee will do."

"Didn't you already-"

"It was creamy white. It was bland for my liking. I need something stronger." You cheekily replied. He sighed and started mixing your coffee and then his own. "If I recall, yesterday I saw you walking home while drinking that black iced coffee from the convenience store. Too much caffeine is unhealthy."

"Yes, Sir Light, noted." You grinned, blowing your drink before taking a sip. "Hey, not funny. I'm genuinely concerned."

"Concern appreciated."

You both entered the living room, greeting his father who eventually got up, off to work. You sat beside Light as you both watched Sachiko kiss Soichiro goodbye. You smiled and mumbled an 'aw,' nudging Light and causing him to slightly spill the coffee he was about to drink.

"What?" He looked at you then to his parents.

"Nothing."

"Ah, I get it. You wanna do that with someone someday, don't you?"

"That's not-"

"It's okay. We all daydream like that, even me. So don't be shy."

"I'm not shy!"

"There goes my line."

"Hmp. So who's the lucky girl, or boy, you daydream about?"

"Why are you suddenly interested? Well what about you?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Because that doesn't matter-"

"Unfair. You're so secretive."

"Fair enough since you're just as secretive as I am. You don't even tell me the guys you like, and I'm your bestfriend."

"Because that doesn't matter-"

"Why do you keep on stealing my lines?"

"Oi that's not the point! I mean come on, an honor student like you rarely talks about romance so when you do, of course I must know. I am your best friend after all."

Light cringed, chuckling. "There's nothing special about that."

"Pfft. Honor students like you are so busy with studying that you rarely have time for romance."

"What? No. Look at you, you're an honor student yourself."

"Yeah but I mean the pros, like you. The valedictorians, first honors."

"Just because I don't that about romance doesn't mean I don't think about it. But like you said, I rarely think about it."

"Ooh! So who is the lucky one?"

"Why do you want to know?"

You puffed your cheeks. Honestly you had no idea too. Let's just say you were... curious.

"I need to gather information. I need some information to sip. Either way I'll figure it out when I start my investigation."

"No."

"Augh- I'll disown you, Light Yagami."

He put his cup down, looking at you.

"It's not really possible to disown the person you like, you know."

The coffee that you were drinking almost came out of your nostrils.

"Don't have so much hubris on yourself. I can do a ten-paged essay about why you are so dislikeable."

"But you can do an essay about why you like me ten times longer than that."

"I am so going to hit your ugly being!"

His smile only grew wider, fascination twinkling in his eyes.

"Hit me with your sweet love, maybe I won't mind."

Not blushing wasn't really an option. He burst out of laughter as you'd been left speechless. You continuously punched his arm, but he never stopped laughing. And his laughter was indeed infectious.

As you two were having fun, you suddenly felt eyes on your back. You stopped and turned around, seeing Light's mother slyly smiling at the both of you as she slithered away towards the kitchen. You and Light avoided each other's gaze for a moment and blushed, finishing your coffees wordlessly instead.

"Well, I'll go change now. You wait here."

"Let me come with you-"

Light raised an eyebrow. "What a pervert you are, [Y/N]."

"NO! That is not what I meant!"

"Well what did you mean?"

"I mean, let me wait outside your room instead," You leaned in, whispering. "What if your mom comes here and talks to me? I mean.. I'm super shy around her."

He nodded in agreement but then he added, "There's no need to be shy around your future mother though."

'This smooth-talking bastard!' You sighed and rubbed your nape, 50% about to roll your eyes and 50% about to blush again. You knew what he meant by that. He had always been a tease to you. But you decided to play against his will.

"Wow. I didn't know that the Yagami family will adopt me someday."

"Tch, dummy."

"Did you just call me dummy?"

"What? Of course not! You really need to clean your ears. I said dumplings. Your cheeks remind me of them. And now I'm hungry."

"You are awful!" For the nth time in history, you hit his arm. "I'm really gonna disown you in one of these days. Now get your ass moving already so we can conquer the street first."

"Well you were the one constantly blabbering and delaying things here-"

"Beca-"

"Shut up."

"Pft. Fine." He pulled you up, holding your wrist even on the way back to his bedroom.

After about five minutes of changing to a plain white t-shirt and jogging pants, matching yours by the way, you two headed out the neighborhood. You picked up the rackets and shuttlecock you had left on the ground, handing him one.

"We don't really have a net-"

"Oh come on! This is just a friendly match, so there's no need for that."

"What about the scores? We can play somehow else if you'd like."

"That's not necessary. I'm making the rules, and the only rule here is that the opponent gets the score if you fail to prevent the birdie from hitting the ground."

"That's not how you play badminton.."

"I am well aware of that. I used to be a part of the school's badminton team, hello? But I make my own rules here." You grinned slyly. He shook his head. "There's no fun in this. You just woke me up to make me do some pointless things with you."

You were actually a little offended by that. You puffed your cheeks and crossed your arms.

"Is it bad that I just wanna have some quality-time with my friend? And to get my revenge, too."

What you said made his heart leap a little, and he was having a hard time resisting the urge to smile. But in the end, he only snarled against his own will. "Let's get this done quick. I'll make sure to destroy you."

"Oh, you wish."

And the game started. The eerie silence vanished, replaced by your grunts, pants, and intense movements. The sky was eventually transitioning from a dim purple to a pale yellow one as you two played, eyes focused on nothing but the shuttle, sweat dripping down your bodies. Light was just as determined as you were to beat his ass. The scores were being mentally recorded by you two-no cheating of course. It was a pretty fair game. One moment you'd be on the lead, but he'd take it, and you'd take it back, and the cycle continued. He was the worthiest opponent for you in this, and he thought the same about you.

The deal was a maximum of 50 scores. Currently, Light was leading and almost close to winning. Certainly you didn't want to get beaten so you struck the shuttle at a perfect angle with just enough force. It flew fast; you were sure he'd miss it. But his reflex was quick, and he struck it with a force much stronger than yours-but his flawed angle sent the shuttle flying higher than he intended it to, and it unfortunately landed on one of your neighbor's roof.

That neighbor just so happened to be the one you two-no, the whole neighborhood-absolutely detested.

Light rubbed his nape and laughed nervously, seeing your grimace. "I'll give the score to you then. So, you have an extra shuttle?"

"Unfortunately that's my last one." You facepalmed. You used to have lots of shuttlecocks but you just kept on losing them since everytime you play with someone, they'd either get destroyed in the process or fly too high and land on unaccessible places, just like what happened.

He frowned. "Seriously? What about inside your house? I'm sure there are a bunch of them tangled in your mess."

"I told you that was my last one. I haven't been able to buy more of them so yeah. But thanks to this nerdy friend of mine, I'm now left with none."

You were only being sarcastic, but it sounded way too derisive for him that he felt somehow guilty.

"Now what do we do.." You pouted to yourself. He averted his gaze which then met the ladder from earlier, a brilliant idea crossing his mind. But the last thing he wanted to do was to get involved, in any way, with that awful neighbor. A grim expression crossed his face and you saw it as you walked closer to him.

"Hey, I'm not actually mad at you, dummy."

"No- I mean, that's a relief. But I think I can retrieve it with the ladder. They might notice me though."

You snorted, but at least there was still a way to save that shuttle. You then looked at the sky. The sun was now rawly smiling at you. Surely those rogues weren't awake yet.

"You know what? I'll do it myself."

"Don't. You might fall. I'll go do it. It's a gentleman's job after all." He grinned. "Do you think they're awake?"

"I don't think so. The curtains are closed anyway."

"Alright. In case I fall, you stay below."

"Okay, Princess Light. I'll catch you using these strong manly arms of mine. Muah!"

"Ew."

Thankfully they didn't have a second floor so the ladder's height was alright- although still short. Once Light had climbed up, you stayed below, holding the ladder just to stay sure.

"Damn. How did it get that far?" He struggled to reach it with his racket, even with his arms and body stretched already. After a few valiant attempts, he sighed and steadied himself a little. He had an idea of climbing the roof but the risk of falling down in the process was high. And he certainly didn't want to squash you either.

"Well this is hopeless."

"Don't give up now, my princess!" You continuously poked his butt with the handle of your racket, causing him to give you a death glare, wobbling a little in his position.

"Are you asking to get squashed? Stop that or I'll fall on you."

"That was just to power you up, silly! Don't you dare fall on me."

"How about falling for you?"

"Bitch."

"Now now, don't say bad words!"

He chuckled and was about to continue his mission when suddenly, the curtains flew open, revealing a grotesque face of a woman staring at Light's crotch-because that's where the window was apparently placed.

Let's just say that you two never want to recall that twenty-minute rebuking that you swore went on even as you two had already left the neighborhood, heading elsewhere.

"That went well." Light heaved a sigh, poking your racket with his as you two walked side by side. You nodded.

"Mission failed. Geez, that woman just wouldn't stop talking and bombarding us with malarkey. I'm starting to hate her."

"To be honest who doesn't? The whole neighborhood hates her as far as I know."

"Pfft, right. So what do we do now?"

He poked your cheeks, and poked, and poked, before pinching them so hard.

"Stop your fetish for my cheeks! This is abuse!"

He laughed, a genuine kind. He didn't reply but put an arm over your shoulder. You puffed your cheeks and played along.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm a bit hungry. So let's head to the convenience store."

"Unsurprising but I didn't bring any money with me."

"Not a single cent?"

"Noooope."

"I guess it's fine since I'll be the one treating you. You should be thankful." You only smiled.

On the way to the store you noticed a group of older and drunk men resting on the side of the street. Their eyes pierced uncomfortably through you. You lowered your head, still feeling their laviscious stares nonetheless. Light also noticed this, and so he pressed himself to you. You hadn't even passed them and when you did, the inevitable came. They cackled, whistling and calling you by names as they rapped the table for attention.

You ignored them and thankfully, they didn't bother you more. "Those bastards." You heard your companion clicking his tongue in annoyance, looking back at the drunk men. He saw where their gazes were and it strongly disgusted him. There was an unnerving silence as you two arrived at the store.

You both had hotdogs with buns and ice cream which was your specific request and which Light reluctantly complied to. The two of you were sitting side by side, looking through the glass wall and discussing mostly about school projects and then some gossips which all came from you. After running out of food to munch on, Light went back to buy a huge bag of chips you two would be sharing.

The sky was now a saturated mixture of orange and yellows. People strolling outside were quickly multiplying until eventually the sidewalk got packed. Few vehicles came passing by. The day was starting for a lot.

"Those guys often do that to you?"

Snapping back to reality, you cooed, "Pardon me?"

"The drunk men we just came across with, was it the first time they've called you out like that?"

"Nope. They're always out drinking.." You saw him creasing his brows. "I know what you're thinking. Well they can't be help so don't think too much about it."

"Can't be help or not, that's still wrong. Did you see the way they looked at your curves? Those men reek danger for a young woman like you. Who knows what their next moves are?" Clenching his fist, he growled. He was truly worried for you. He knew how the world is full of suspicious people like them, and who knows that they're capable of doing?

"Now now worry-wart, don't be so angry."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? You should really start walking home with me early. Does it kill you to immediately go home after school even when you have no business there anymore?"

He got you there. "But I don't want to instantly go home."

"Keep thinking like that and you might never be able to go home again."

You pursed your lips at how scary he made that sound. "Listen, [Y/N]. In this world, there are only a few people you can actually trust. And those guys? They're not looking worthy of someone's trust, even one bit. They're also not the only possible threats to you. Anyone you don't know, or even who you're acquainted with, could be. Even if they look so charming. I'm saying this as a warning, and as your friend. The way they looked at you really triggered me. I can't let you continue your routine anymore. Sure, I know you're going to argue that there's lots of bystanders in case something happens, but that's not always the case. And we're not even sure if they'll help you or proceed to give a blind eye to it."

There came a long pause as you absorbed his words. Hearing them made you feel grateful for having a friend like him-someone who speaks up because he cares about you and your safety. You merely nodded with your mouth agape.

"..I-I'll do as you say then. Thank you Light, really. I appreciate your concern. You give the best advices.. I-you're one of the best people out there."

"Sorry to suddenly explode like that." He smiled, and your heart softened. You asked, "And so, by saying that.. You trust me?"

"Needless to ask dummy. I wouldn't have said that if I didn't."

"Thank you. You know I trust you too. You're one of the people who's worth my trust." You flushed pink as you scratched your nape. This kind of conversation will always make you shy.

"You don't have to say thank you to me for trusting you. And what you said.. You're worth trusting, too."

You didn't argue. The following minutes were silent as you two stared at the void while eating potato chips. You didn't have any new topics in mind, and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts-or his daydreams. You didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on in that complex mind of his.

You absently stood up, craving for another black coffee, but you halted and went back when you remembered you didn't have your own money.

"Oh? You want something?"

"I want coffee. Well- if you don't mind. Ehehehe."

"That I am not going to buy for you. That's going to be your third coffee and the day's only starting."

"Hmph. Forgot I have a mom for a friend. But anyway, you good? You seemed to be thinking about something rather serious earlier."

"Yeah, I'm fine." He smiled. Although he was really deep in thought of something-but what was it?

As he'd already said, he trusted you. He had been friends with you since middle school. He developed the ability to read through your mind. With you both growing closer day by day, he had already memorized your hobbies, your predictably unpredictable schedules, your common moods, your personality, and your flaws as a human being. Heck, he could even write an entire biography book about you with all the facts 99% accurate if he wanted to.

To him, you were fascinating, despite the fact that you weren't his ‘ideal’ girl. But as they say, some ideals are bound to get broken when something unexpected and much more interesting comes along the way. Sure, you couldn't read his mind as good as he read yours. You couldn't decipher and foresee what his next moves would be very well, wasn't in the exact same level as he was, but he grew attached to you. He trusted you, which was a rare thing for him to do-and consider the fact that trust is a hard thing to earn. You were an honest person, mildly annoying at some point to him. You're one that's willing to help others too. Rarely gets the initiative, but when you do, you execute amazing plans and actions.

The world is ugly, indeed, but he considered you to be one of those who made it less that way. You were one of the beautiful people in this ugly, mundane world. And that, he admired you for.

He couldn't see you as just a friend anymore. He could basically see through you, like you were his other half-like you were meant to be. You were someone he could connect with, someone he trusts, someone he could love. The label 'bestfriends' bothered him because he felt like it didn't suit you both, because something else did.

A couple.

And going back, what he was thinking about was the act of courting you and becoming your boyfriend. But doubts flooded his mind, such as you two being too young for romance, the possibility of your parents being against it since he knew you once swore that you wouldn't get a boyfriend until the age of 25 (which was actually a half-joke), and him not knowing what to properly do afterwards. Was he ready for this? Having you as his girlfriend wouldn't really change or affect anything such as his studies. It would still be the same.. just with an upgraded relationship and label with you. Besides, he had been wanting to court you for some time already. And if he doesn't do it then he'd only grow more and more restless.

He wanted to be yours. He was sure you also reciprocated his feelings. Getting into a teenage relationship is easy and quick and maybe reckless, they say, but not for someone with a complex and rational thinking like him. There were some things to consider- but you know what Light said?

'God damn it.'

"Love."

"Huh?" You weren't expecting that response at all.

"I mean I was thinking about romance."

"Ooh! Finally, you decided to add some teenage thrill in your life. So, what about romance?" You gave a sly look. "Need help? I can be cupid, except I will be hitting you with my fist."

His smile was little but genuine, looking out. "There's someone I like for some time now. I've been wanting to court her."

"Awe! My boy has finally grown! My son is finally having a love interest! Eh, but why do you look so uncertain? Is there a catch?"

"Not really." He looked at you, his cheek resting on his palm. You raised an eyebrow.

"If that's the case then go for it! Who would dare to refuse the Light Yagami anyway? If you're feeling doubtful, which is highly unlikely for you, don't be. Any girl would swoon over you, even myself." You chuckled. He gave a fake impression of still being doubtful, looking down with his hands now on his thighs. It was a rare sight to see. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tapping it. Just then, he looked at you straight in the eye.

"It's not like you to lose some confidence. Come on, don't be sad. You can do it. Go ahead and court the lucky one. Cupid approves." You gave him a thumbs up.

"..If you say so," he seized your wrist and stood up.

"Can I court you then?"

#death note #death note x reader #death note x you #light x reader #light yagami x reader #death note fluff #light yagami #light yagami fluff #death note imagines #yagami light #best friends to lovers trope supremacy #light x you #death note x y/n #i'm sorry i haven't played an actual badminton match in ages so you might cringe huhufdfds #character x you #kiss kiss fall iN LOVEEEE #bye #i poured my heartand soul into writngin thsi sjfhjd

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kikyan · 3 years

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The Forbidden Fruit

Yandere Light Yagami x Female! Reader

“ Don’t worry [Y/N], my brother is amazing at studying! We can ask him some questions and you’ll understand it also immediately!!” Sayu said as she walked inside her nice decorative home with [Y/N] following behind. She took off her shoes and put on slippers, with [Y/N] following her actions. Sayu went to the kitchen where her mom was preparing a meal to fully satisfy the family during dinner and their little guest.

“ Hey, Mom! Is light home yet? Me and [Y/N] need help with our homework!”

Turning to face Sayu, she removed the ladle from the steaming pot and tilted her head to ponder on a suitable answer.

“ He isn’t, I think he has cram school today. He’ll be a bit late so why don’t you guys get started on it now and skip over the ones you don’t know? I’m sure by the time he arrives you’ll be finished with a majority of it!”

“ Hm. . .Okay! Wait, [Y/N] how long can you stay?”

“ The latest I can stay is around 8. I live 3 blocks from here so I should be fine staying this late.”

“ Oh, then you can stay for dinner! In the meantime, let’s go to my room!”

[Y/N] and Sayu ran to her room, Sayu loudly speaking moving about grabbing pens and pencils as she sat down on her bed. Instead of doing her homework, she grabbed a nearby magazine and examined its contents.

“ Hey, [Y/N]! Come look at this!”

“ What happened to homework Sayu?”

“ Later! My big brother will help us so don’t worry! Hey, come look at this though! Isn’t it pretty?”

[Y/N] simply turned away with a pout on her face. She sighed as she reached into her backpack and pulled out her homework and began to work on it by herself. Sayu put her magazine down before chirping a small, “When you finish let me see the answers” and picked up where she left off.

[Y/N] grumbled a small, ‘ if you aren’t going to help then neither will I’ before focusing on a question. Sayu whined loudly before placing the magazine down and joining her friend on the floor.

“ Fine, if you want to do homework, we can do homework.”

“ Good, that is what I came here to do.”

“ You’re no fun.”

Sayu eventually gave in and began to do homework with [Y/N], stumped on some of the problems they ignored them. The front door was opened and soon enough Light entered the room as Sayu let out a happy gasp as she turned to [Y/N], “ Brothers home! You know what that means!”

“ Sayu, while we may need help you shouldn’t use your brother like that.”

“ Oh c’mon, he is super smart and top of his class, he doesn’t mind helping!”

“ Sayu. . .”

[Y/N] kept an emotionless expression as they witnessed Sayu running down the stairs with glee. [Y/N] felt that the least they could do was accompany Sayu to greet her older brother. Once [Y/N] walked downstairs, regret was deep inside their soul when Sayu made eye-contact with her friend.

“ Oh Light! Here, this is my friend [Y/N]!”

“ Oh hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

Light replied with a small smile as he turned to his mother who asked him about his grades and he replied with handing her a parchment in which his mother gasped at seeing them. A smile of delight played on her face as she tilted her head cutely. [Y/N] just turned away and nodded. Light was a bit tired, but he did not fail to see the strange expression on [Y/N]’s face as she looked at him.

“ I know my brother is popular but jeez [Y/N], drool much?”

“ Your brother is strange.”

“ If you mean strange in that he studies a lot then yes!”

With a laugh, Sayu turned away to return back to her room.

“ Isn’t he supposed to be helping us? I don’t think mocking him will do you any good, Sayu.”

Sayu gasped as she ran to Light’s room to apologize. [Y/N] sighed before grabbing her things, it was close to her curfew even though Sayu rarely did anything. Light’s mom smiled as she walked closer to [Y/N].

“ Say, aren’t you hungry dear? Dinner is ready, why don’t you get Sayu and Light and come down to eat? Have a bite before you leave, sweetie.”

“ Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“ Nonsense dear! Any friend of Sayu is welcome here! My husband for once won’t be working that late, it’s rare to see everyone together so this will be great!”

[Y/N] felt a bit strange, her choice clearly had an impact, but still, she would feel even worse for not accepting. She ran upstairs, opening the door to Sayu’s room and shaking her head when she didn’t see her. She went to Light’s room and knocked on the door, after hearing a small ‘ Come in’ from the other side did she open the door. She saw Light in a black long-sleeved shirt and his dress pants. Sayu was begging him to help her with her homework, even pointing to you and saying that you were having difficulties with it as well.

“ Well. . . if [Y/N] is also struggling then I could offer to help.”

“ Why does she get special treatment?”

“ What do you mean, if she knew how to do it then you could just ask her, but if you both need help then I can help you both.”

“ Sayu, Light, your mother says that dinner is ready and that your father is coming home soon, also, I taught you how to do it Sayu, you just didn’t listen.”

Before she could even say anything, the moment the door was open, Sayu, bolted out of the door and ran to greet her father. [ Y/N ] stood there, confused momentarily before shaking her head once again and staring at the door.

“ Sorry, Sayu is a handful at times.”

“ More like all the time, no offense.”

“ None taken, though I think we shouldn’t tell her that.”

“ Maybe so, is Sayu close with her father?”

“ That’s just her typical reaction to anything really, besides we rarely see our father so I guess her behavior is acceptable.”

“ I see, does he work often?”

“ Yes he does, he is a police officer.”

“ Oh, I see. Anyway dinner is ready, your mother asked me to tell you.”

“ I’ll be down in a second.”

[Y/N] nodded, turning away slightly until she laid eyes on a black notebook. It was strange, wasn’t expected of Lights aesthetic, but she didn’t question much about it. Light turned to his notebook before hiding it away and turning to face the door.

‘ Her friend seems to be perceptive. . . I should be fine if I keep up with the appearance of a good role model citizen.’

Light finished his business and went downstairs to where they were all gathered around the table and waiting for Light. Once he made his way to the table, they consumed the meal that was prepared for them, light talk in between bites.

“ So dad, this is a rare sight. Is everything okay at the station?”

“ Yeah. . . I can’t say much but this case is putting a big scare on everyone. We’ve never had anything like the Kira case before.”

“ Kira?”

[Y/N] perked up at name and everyone was a bit surprised to see that she was a bit unaware of the situation.

“ You aren’t aware of the news?”

“ Gosh [Y/N] the whole school talks about it!”

“ I’m sorry for not paying attention to what they say, most of the time no one has anything worth listening to.”

A deep, loud laugh was heard as Sayu’s dad chuckled a bit, before turning to Sayu, “ I think I like your friend a lot more Sayu.”

Light cleared his throat before proceeding, “ Kira is more of a vigilante, he is known for “cleaning up” the streets by killing the criminals in it. Essentially, he is taking justice into his own hands. It wasn’t until the detective known as L broadcasted a video feed that he determined that he only needed a face and a name to kill. The internet is full of information like that, I’m also surprised you didn’t hear about it.”

[Y/N] paid more attention when ‘L’ was mentioned, she started to deduce her own ideas inside. Sayu looked at her friend and with a snarky smile, “ So, are you team Kira or L?”

“ Sayu!”

“ Sayu, we talked about this!”

“ What, I wanted to see what it was.”

“ It doesn’t matter, your father is on this case so it’s disrespectful!”

“ No, it’s alright, anyone is entitled to their opinion. It doesn’t change the fact that we are determined to stop Kira.”

Light stared at his father and his expression, this did not go unnoticed by [Y/N]. She finished her meal and went to wash the plate.

“ Oh dear, please don’t worry about the plate. I can do that.”

“ So can I ma’am, it’s the least I can do in exchange for all the kindness you showed me.”

[Y/N] finished washing her plate and grabbed her bag, thanking the family and putting her shoes on. Sayu’s mother walked to the entrance and thanked [Y/N] for being Sayu’s friend and for everything she has done. [Y/N] nodded and thanked the woman for her kindness and hospitality.

“ It’s late, Light can walk you home. Can’t you Light?”

“ No, that’s okay. I don’t want to impose-”

“ Nonsense, he would be happy to take you. Just a moment, Light sweetie? Can you take [Y/N] home?”

Light nodded before grabbing his coat and headed outside with [Y/N]. As they were walking, silence fell upon them like snow, until Light attempted to lighten the mood and start small talk.

“ Thank’s for looking after Sayu, ever since she met you she has been more excited.”

“ You can say it, she’s been more annoying huh?”

“ Well, I wouldn’t put it like that. . .”

“ It’s okay, besides, it’s Sayu I should be thanking. I recently moved here, and it was Sayu who helped me make friends. I know I don’t look it, sound it, or am that person, but I care a lot for her.”

With a soft smile, Light looked at [Y/N] before continuing his talk. It wasn’t until a bit later did they talk about Kira.

“ I know that we were a bit loud back there, but I want to hear your opinions, who do you go for?”

“ Oh, the L and Kira talk, well, it sounds to me that Kira is doing everyone a favor and killing the criminals, the crime rate will go down from the looks of it, with everyone fearing it, but I think that too much power can get into Kira’s head and he can start hurting innocent people. I don’t have enough information on them to make a decision, but I know that L is a good detective, he might find Kira, or Kira can upstage him, who knows. Personally, I think that he isn’t setting a good example, he kills other while he hates them killing. Ironic really. I have different opinions on both, but I wouldn’t call myself a Kira or L supporter just yet.”

“ I see, I would love to hear your thoughts when you do!”

“ Okay. . . anyway’s this is my house, thanks for walking me back. Thank your mom for the meal and tell Sayu that I wrote her how to solve the problems on her sticky note.”

“ I will, it was nice meeting you!”

“ Likewise. . “

Both separated, Light went home and [Y/N] inside hers. It was dark and cool, she went into her room and looked out the window, Light was walking and for some reason, his lips were moving? Was he talking to himself? His lips were more like, trying to remain quiet, there was no one around and it gave the impression that he was being too cautious. Just what was Light Yagami?

It was a normal day, like any other, someone else died so it was whatever at this point. [Y/N] sighed as she sat in her chair and focused on the board, it was hard to remain awake. Sayu noticed this and leaned over to whisper, “ Didn’t get much sleep?”

“ Pay attention Sayu, I can’t come over everyday can I?”

“ Well no, but I should be fin-!?”

Sayu panicked when the teacher slammed her desk before continuing her discussion, Sayu sent [Y/N] a sour expression as [Y/N] laughed. She stayed up all night this week to read up on the Kira case, L, the killings, everything. It sounded like Kira has a power that is strange to everyone, but they had limits. If anything, she was leaning more towards the L side of anything. Someone who thinks that they have infinite power will more than likely think of themselves as highly. She was just waiting for a chance to prove that. While she didn’t participate in them, she lingered whenever someone wanted to argue about the cases to hear their opinion, in short, they suck.

She was walking one weekend, she came back from the store when she saw Light in town. He was just leaving as well so he decided to walk with her. She was thankful enough and the small talk turned into a conversation, at first he asked a bit about her thoughts and that was when she revealed some of them.

“ What I fear is Kira straying off his ideology and hurting others, other than that I don’t have many issues with him. L is more entertaining in my opinion, this whole battle is.”

“ Oh, well I see. What do you think Kira’s end goal is?”

“ A better society, that’s why he is getting rid of the criminals at least, I only hope it’s only bad guys.”

After a short conversation, they encountered a small dog as [Y/N] went to pet it, for some reason the dog was fixed on Light.

�� I think the dog likes you Light.”

“ You think so?”

“ He seems to like staring at you, or more like someone next to you, but there is nothing there, or is there?”

‘ Did she touch the notebook?’

Light questioned it while looking at [Y/N] as she was looking at something other than Light, she was looking straight at Ryuk. Light turned to look at Ryuk, turning back to [Y/N]. Ryuk moved to the side and while the dog’s eyes followed, [Y/N] did the same.

“ It’s a joke.”

Light changed his expression to one of amusement as he laughed a bit. Deep in his mind he was worried, was she playing with him?

“ You know, I had a friend back then before I moved that told me that animals can sense or see the things we can’t. She mentioned that animals can also see ghosts and impure things. It is rumored that when a dog barks, but there is nothing out there is because they are trying to drive out the evil spirit or alert others. Who knows, it was fixated on something next to you, maybe you’re being haunted or something.”

“ Haha, well, I don’t think we are but who knows, maybe you are right.”

Light glared at Ryuk as he was cackling.

‘ That was a close one wasn’t it Light, to think that this whole operation would have been blown off by a little girl. If anything, you aren’t being haunted by a spirit, more like you accepted the spirit.’

“ Hey, Light, how do you deal with it?”

“ Deal with that?”

“ School and stuff, you seem to work hard to keep up your grades and I dunno, it seems stressful. You must either have a good coping method for it or you really like studying.”

“ Well, I have other hobbies that help me relax, but I rarely get stressed. Why do you ask?”

“ I dunno, don’t want to see you bottle everything up and then explode on us.”

“ You’re really kind, you know that?”

At the sound of this compliment, [Y/N] turned into a darker shade as she looked away. She was never good with compliments but nonetheless, while she was embarrassed, she accepted them.

“ What do. . .you mean. . .”

“ Although you have difficulty expressing it [Y/N], you seem to be emotionally connected with people. I guess it’s rare to see someone so kind, just like you said, it’s hard to find people who have something worth saying you know?”

“ Most people are assholes, excuse my language, but they are like a test. If you can notice flaws in others, you can avoid having those with yourself. If you see someone insulting others, then you’ll try to perfect yourself to not be like them, you’ll try not to insult others but people like them are fair game. It’s just something strange I thought of but, while it would be nice to not have them in society, it’s hard to picture one without since we are so used to it. I guess we kinda need people like them in life for us to be better, I honestly have no clue I’m just a teenage girl after all.”

“ You have an interesting take on your views, did Kira impact it?”

“ Actually, yes. Both Kira and L, the whole battle really. One is fighting for a better society and it gets you thinking if Kira is a bad guy or not, then you have L who strives for order in society but is trying to rid of us the one thing that keeps us safe. I see both really, fear conditions you to not act out since you fear punishment, but laws do the same, if anything its similar, just that this lesson, laws start to morph into morals that society just follows. Both shape society, one is faster and the other takes years to perfect. Anyway’s sorry for geeking out on you, thanks again for walking me home Light. Give your family my greetings, hope to see you soon.”

[Y/N] thanked Light one last time with a small bow before proceeding to enter her home. Light only looked at her before waving off and leaving with Ryuk following Light.

‘ Isn’t she perceptive? Well, if anything at least she seems to be a supporter of Kira.’

“ No, she isn’t, not yet at least. She is stuck in the middle and I want to ensure that she chooses right.”

‘ Since when do you care over who is in line with who?’

“ Well, after all, if I want to make this world a better place I need to know who is worthy and who isn’t. [Y/N] is no exception. She is kind and I think her mindset is compassionate and understanding, but I don’t think that she has enough to convert herself to a Kira worshiper her. Everyone labels either Kira as a savior or as a murderer and I think that we need to clear his name up a bit.”

‘ Oh? Is she really this important?’

“ She seems to understand Kira’s ideology as much as I do, even though I am him. She is more than fitting in my new world.”

‘ Sounds like you’re in love with a teenager who is a couple of years younger than you.’

“ If anything, you should stop talking to me in public, others can’t see you but when I talk to you others notice and it’s weird.”

‘ Love. . . ‘ Light pondered on that thought, sure there were plenty of girls who had a crush on him and more, he didn’t think much of it but it was strange. Was he in love? All those other girls who confessed to him seemed to think otherwise, they never cared much for their studies much less cared enough for anything aside from appearance. Yet here [Y/N] was, a diamond in the rough, someone who would think, had views that he was interested in hearing. She could be someone interesting to converse with even if he wasn’t under the influence of the notebook. [Y/N] wasn’t like most people in society who went on with their day to day life and believed anything, [Y/N] thought outside the box and tried to understand everyone and everything, she would benefit this new world more, but more importantly, she would benefit Light more.

[Y/N] put her groceries away at a fast pace, skipping past the post-it note that read, ‘ Back at 6 ‘. She ran to her room and grabbed her journal and logged into the internet and began to log into the site that was used for supporting Kira.

‘ Kira, one of my bullies was being mean to me, robbed me of my money and went to target others, even threatening to hurt my little brother. Kira please, give justice and rid us of scum like him. His name is XXX and this is his picture.’

“ Needs a name and face and doesn’t have to be in direct contact.”

‘ The police are trying to destroy our peaceful society, we must get rid of them for Kira, they need to understand that Kira is doing what they could never!’

“ Light’s dad is working the Kira case, how far is he into it? It’s probably nothing but. . . there could be something supernatural happening. There is no weapon out there that is used liked that, and that thing with Light and the dog? Should be nothing . .”

[Y/N] wrote in her journal, thinking much about the conflict. If anything, she was more in favor of L, he was a world star detective and she loved crime-solving so of course, she studied up on what was known about him. L was right in most aspects, there are some jobs where being a bad apple doesn’t cut it and even in a job setting, you can’t give someone who is ‘bad’ power that they can abuse. Essentially, the power that Kira has is what is making him think he is some god and that is dangerous, Kira will stop at nothing to get what he wants if that is his ideology and that includes hurting others, even those he swore to protect. L wants to establish order and although he is a bit reckless, he craves for a society that understands right from wrong in a more law centered area, since morals are the individual’s thoughts and ideas.

[Y/N] knew that while those who acted unfavorably deserved worse, death is too sweet for them, but also logically we need them to prove a point to others. [Y/N] sighed when she finished her notes, she suspected a lot but she needed to go over more to hear what she could about the case to reach a conclusion on who she thinks is Kira.

It was like any other day, one that was peaceful as much as you would in a world with Kira and L battling it out, Sayu invited [Y/N] to their house for dinner and for help on their homework. Sadly her father wouldn’t be joining them due to work so [Y/N] decided to snoop around to see what she could find. They were in Light’s room getting help as he repeated what he told Sayu previously regarding the work. Light was busy looking at [Y/N] as she looked at her notebook, she finished her homework ages ago but for the sake of it, she pretended as if she was struggling too. Light was growing concerned more and more, if anything was he feeling love toward [Y/N]? He thought too much on it, if he did love her this would be awkward, he was almost a school graduate and she was barely entering high school, but above all, she was more of a guilty pleasure and she still hasn’t sided with Kira completely. It was infuriating to see someone he cared so much about not understand him all that well, but no matter, he knew what he had to do and his plan was already in motion. He just needed to show her how nice Kira was.

‘ He is staring at me. . . what does he want? I shouldn’t think too much on it but. . . there is something strange about Light. His expressions, they seem so. . . so fake. I wonder what he is hiding.’

Dinner was soon called and [Y/N] stayed behind a little longer to clean up her things, Light trusting that no one would find the compartment to the notebook, but still couldn’t be too safe, could you? Light stayed close as [Y/N] placed her pencils in her pouch, the moment he turned his back, [Y/N] started to look around the room.

‘ For a model student he sure is basic, but whatever, I’m trying to find information on Kira and the case. . .what is this?’

At that moment, she noticed a pen, that seemed to be broken apart but not in any bad shape, as it was purposely broken apart. Was Light some kis genius who had a weird fixation with breaking things? Maybe. [Y/N] was looking around and around, but there was nothing strange. It wasn’t until she stepped on the controller and there was the channel that covered a lot regarding Kira and the criminals, almost as if they were handing them to Kira themselves. Nothing uncommon, it was a popular show after all, but the off-putting thing about the whole thing was how everything fit regarding his persona. Light’s expression when Kira was mentioned as if he wanted it to be acknowledged. No matter, there was nothing of use at all in this room so she went down to eat with the rest.

After dinner, for reasons untold, it was earlier than usual so it was nothing too surprising when [Y/N] offered herself to walk home, leaving the Yagami household to settle earlier than usual. As she was walking there was a sound, a large sound alerted her to turn around as she was met with a face, this person had bloodshot eyes and wore all black, but above anything, they were carrying a bloodied knife. [Y/N] fumbled a bit as she tried to run away and the figure started to chase her down.

‘ W-why now? W-who is he?’

[Y/N] panicked as she ended up getting tackled by the figure, she panicked as she struggled until he lifted the knife to her neck as she let out a small breath. Fearing that even the slightest breath could get her cut. The figure was breathing rapidly, hyperventilating even.

‘ I-is he on drugs?’

Soon, the figure stopped breathing altogether and slummed forward, the knife that he had fallen next to him. His whole body was slumped forward and pressed up against [Y/N]. Her breath escalated, turning to the figure and letting out a large screech and throwing him over.

“ [Y/N]? Hey, what happened?!”

[Y/N] scrambled away from the body as she looked up to see the person who called her name. Her eyes widened in fear as she met those wth concern of Light.

‘Light. . . Light, Light Yagami. .’

“ [Y/N] who is he? Are you alright?”

Nodding, [Y/N] shakingly pointed to the man, Light’s eyes tracing back and touching the man, his felt no pulse. His eyes darted to the knife as she looked over at [Y/N] with concern all over his face.

“ Did he do anything to you [Y/N]?”

“ N-no, I think he passed out beforehand. S-should we call the cops?”

“ Yeah, I’m already on it.”

Light called the cops and explained the situation as [Y/N] glared at Light. Light was the first one to arrive at the scene and he was somewhat calm about. Light has been acting suspiciously this entire time, it’s safe to consider Light a possible suspect. What scared [Y/N] more, was that she could see his face lifting, more as if he was smiling. Case closed, Light had something to do with this, Light had to be Kira.

[Y/N] was in her home taking a bath. The cops came to the scene and took care of everything, to her suspicion, his death was a heart attack. The police assumed that it was Kira once again as this man had no previous health history that put him in any risk for one.

“ I’m sorry you had to experience something frightful, I am only thankful that my son was there to help you Miss [L/N].”

“ Don’t worry about it. . thank you for your work sir.”

“ Of course, Light, see to it that she gets home safely.”

Light nodded and walked her home. It was nothing that far, but they had small talk along the way.

“ Hey Light, do you really think it was Kira?”

“ Possibly, the man had a heart attack as the rest and he was apparently a wanted criminal so if anything that is enough to consider it. If Kira did, how do you feel?”

“ Well, I guess I owe Kira my life, after all, he did save me. Then again, it’s my own experience so I guess that isn’t enough evidence, but I think that Kira is someone who won’t stray off his path and will continue to be justice!”

Light let out a chuckle and turned to the side. He was smiling proudly, he won over [Y/N], he did it. She understood Kira’s ideology and believed in him. She would make a perfect companion in this world he seeks to create. Once they reached her house, [Y/N] thanked him and went inside her home with Light bidding her a good night.

Recalling the end of the eventful night, [Y/N] got out to the bath and changed. She clicked on the T.V and a program started as she wrote in her journal.

‘ Light was there almost immediately after, it wasn’t that far from where I was, his house was close by so they should have heard something.’

‘ Light kept asking me about Kira, and when I told him I was a Kira supporter he seemed happy.’

‘ Kira killed my assailant.’

“ This just in, we have reports of a criminal that was announced on T.V at 7 was killed today around 8:48 PM! Does this mean that Kira struck again?”

“ Of course he did! Kira knows that his loyal followers would present him with scum that the world has! He killed [ Criminal Name ] to show us that he hears us, we must show him more devotion!”

‘ [Criminal Name], that’s who attacked me. . . that’s the channel that was in Lightroom. . .the ability to kill someone with a name and face would be something supernatural, the dog looking next to Light and moving his eyes, Light and his fake smiles, the fact that Kira was changing patterns when it was revealed by the cops this, Light’s dad is a cop. . .Light is Kira. . .’

[Y/N] eyes widened as she tried hard to compose her argument that she would present to the task force, to L himself.

“ Light, you fucking bastard. I caught you.”

The next day, [Y/N] dressed up and went to the police station. She talked to those in front, “ Please you have to let me see L or the chief, I have information that can help with the case.”

“ Sorry, but they are busy. You can leave a message and we can deliver it.”

“ No I can’t risk the information I have, when are they not busy?”

“ It’s the Kira case, now run along.”

“ [Y/N]? What are you doing here?”

“ Light. . . oh nothing. Just trying to get more information on what happened yesterday.”

“ Don’t worry, what happened yesterday won’t happen again. If you want to know I can ask my father, but don’t worry about it.”

[Y/N] nodded before returning home and leaving Light alone to attend his business. It was a shock, Light was there and so was [Y/N], she didn’t realize how hard it would be to tell them that Light is Kira. She also let it slip her mind that Light was the Cheifs son, it would be devastating to hear that your son is a wanted criminal. She was chilling in her room until someone ran her doorbell. She went downstairs and was met with an old man as she smiled and asked for [Y/N].

“ Is this [Y/N]?”

“ Yes?”

“ I see, well please come with me. You have some information present regarding the Kira case? L is interested in what you have to say. With that, [Y/N] smiled before nodding and going inside the car. She was blindfolded during the car ride but that was to be expected. She was also blindfolded when she was taken to see L, but it was taken off when they were in the room. She was met with a man with messy black hair, white long-sleeved shirt, blue jeans, and dark eye bags.

“ You must be miss [Y/N] [L/N] right?”

“ Yes, you must be L, right? Sorry to bother you but I think I know who Kira is. It’s just a guess right now but I think it’s him, no, some part of me knows it’s him!”

“ And who would that be?”

“ Light Yagami.”

“ I see, so you suspect him too.”

“ You do as well?”

“ Yes I do, in fact, I know it is him. I wonder what makes you think that?”

“ Well, I believe that the way he kills isn’t from this world, it can’t be. It has to be something else, while I don’t know what it is, it leaves some trace. I and Light were walking and I know it sounds silly but there was this dog and he kept staring at something that wasn’t there, even Light saw it but I couldn’t! It was strange, he didn’t tell me he saw it, but his eyes were matching those of the dog. Besides, he was watching T.V once and for some reason it was on that channel that broadcasts those criminals and for some reason, [Criminal Names] ended up attacking me the same day! Light’s dad is a cop, so it would make sense for him to access information and such, besides, Light hides behind his appearance. When I was attacked and he called the cops, I swore I saw him smile!”

“ Calm down, I think this is interesting. Your reasoning is good and you’re very observant, but you see I have a similar issue. It’s Light, Light is Kira, but I can’t find any evidence that proves it’s him, therefore I propose something. Do you want to work for me?”

“ I-!?”

“ Ryuzaki, are you sure?”

“ Yes, I am Watari, besides, she is close to Light, if anything she can be the key to get more evidence against him.”

“ I accept!”

“ Why don’t you consider this more carefully Miss, Ryuzaki can manage just fine if you say no.”

“ No, I accept! I’ve always had my views towards Kira, sure he gets rid of the criminals, but someone with that power, I fear who they might hurt to continue this path. Besides, Light has been lying this whole time, he needs to be put away.”

L looked at the female with amusement in his eyes, he was intrigued with her. It seemed that she was determined, something he admired a lot. He nodded and told her of his plan, she would try what she could to gain information from Light and try to get evidence for the task force. [Y/N] was happy to meet L, if anything she was happy that for once she was seen as her age, she was given a responsibility and she would not fail. Since then, she had been reporting to Light, even when L made himself public to Light as well. [Y/N] had been operating in the shadows, she had been visiting Sayu recently, having talks with Light and doing homework with Sayu, luckily everything was fine. [Y/N] met Misa, who was a little too upset with the whole Light kinda paying more attention to her and Sayu, but he was just trying to be a good older brother. All the commotion happened, as [Y/N] did nothing but report. She didn’t buy the whole girlfriend act so she looked more into it.

“ So you think Misa knows?”

“ Yes, Light’s expressions mask annoyance and hatred so I highly doubt he likes her, she either knows and he is keeping her alive for that, or she is being used/went willingly with him. It’s a little toxic, to be honest.”

“ Now we aren’t one to comment on Light’s relationship status [Y/N], but still, this is intriguing. We both came to the conclusion that there was a second Kira, my suspicion of her has risen. Thank you for this information [Y/N].”

“ Of course anything to help out!”

[Y/N] thanked L before heading out. She was thankful for this job and opportunity. Although she didn’t find much, she assisted a lot in the investigation, and it was even worse when L and Watari were killed.

Tears streamed down [Y/N] face as she was informed of his passing by someone else, finding out that Light was the one to take his place. If anything, she was repulsed. Disgusted, the same murderer that killed L and others, posing as the lead detective? There were so many wrongs with that, she had to do something. Miraculously, someone with the name N reached out to her regarding the situation, 5 years later. Light ended up moving in with Misa, but he was always around constantly messaging [Y/N] about his sister and about her. It was no surprise that she was informed of many things, she was introduced to the task force later while L was still alive, talking about how she was someone who went undercover. He would ask her constantly about her thoughts and she would have to answer how she would normally take into consideration that she is communicating with the devil himself. [Y/N] was now a 20-year-old female, working secretly with N, or near regarding everything. Taking into consideration the information that L had and what [Y/N] had to say. They did well to keep [Y/N] a secret from Light though, she was a secret that remained deep within the task force, Light would, no should never know that she was involved. She would speak about what she knew, the death note and possible fake rule, etc.

[Y/N] got a message from Light, asking her out for a coffee to speak about somethings. She normally would brush it off, had it not been for Near saying she should go and see what he wants. She hesitantly agreed, choosing to go. The conversation was one that was a bit bland, for someone keeping contact with the other for so long.

“ How have you been [Y/N]?”

“ Good and you?”

“ I’ve been preoccupied and with Misa, it’s hard to keep track.”

“ That must be a bummer, but hey wouldn’t she be mad? I mean you’re hanging out with a girl now, not your little sister’s friend.”

“ It’s not like we are something after all.”

Light forced himself to say those things. It is true that they haven’t been in contact for so long, but she had been there every step of the way. She had supported him in so much, she wasn’t as smart as him, but she also wasn’t like Misa who was acting than thinking. [Y/N] opened her mind for anything and everything, she was someone who understood a dream and passion and helps both the pros and cons to it, both sides, understanding o anything, someone that was suitable, a role model even in his new world that he was constructing. Light was always interested in her, he just couldn’t say anything. Misa came into the picture and he had to obey and act as the perfect boyfriend. He thought he almost lost his grasp on you had it not been for the fact that you still stayed close to him, almost as if you wanted him too, right?

“ Yeah, we aren’t anything. You aren’t that kind of person for sure, but any leads in the Kira case? I mean, you told me that you were made chief on the investigation, along with L so I am interested in learning what it is you know about Kira, sure I understand that you have to capture him but, I’m sure he had a reason.”

“ You mean a reason to kill L right?”

The silence was in the cafe, [Y/N] panicked, no she didn’t slip up, god that wire that Near had planted in her better be picking this up because this wasn’t part of the plan.

“ I thought L was alive, Light you better not be joking-?!”

“ Now why would I joke about his death, besides N is there to confirm it, isn’t he.”

“ When?”

“ Since you visited the task force. Believe it or not, I tend to keep great tabs on those that matter, I need, or I want.”

“ I see, you knew the whole time. Including what L meant to me and you still had the fucking audacity, why haven’t you killed me yet? Surely I must have been a mole in the plan, some bug worth squashing right?”

“ Because I want you [Y/N]. You matter a lot more than you think to me, in this new world that I am planning on creating, I want you to be the first person welcomed in there, ruling next to me.”

“ What? I thought Misa, who was the second owner would do that.”

“ I needed her eyes, you must have known from all your notes. 5 years ago you suspected me, and now you know. Yes, I did kill L, the Death note is in my possession, I am lying to the police, I am Kira, I am the God of this new world, and you shall be next to me to judge all these souls.”

“ Why me?”

“ Simply put, back then you were struggling to pick a side, I thought I won you over but then I realized, you are better than me at putting up appearances. I see why L trusted you a lot more than us, but one thing I learned is that the mind can be persuaded a lot. I understood a lot more than you realized, you are understanding, compassionate if anything you see both sides of the same coin and I admire that about you. You have a voice in the matter, unlike these brainless fools, you see my true vision, you see me for me. You see past Kira’s actions and more of his motives!”

“ All I see is a fucking murderer, but go off I guess.”

A small chuckle was released by Light as he turned to face you and whispered in [Y/N]’s ear, ‘ The wire you were wearing is of no use anymore, anything I said wasn’t even recorded. Isn’t that lovely, you’re mine and believe me, I will cleanse your mind from his poison.”

“ What about Misa? What about everyone. They will find me.”

“ They will find the notebook that I made, one that has your name in it and they will think that you died. No one will find someone they think is dead.”

“ Kira, you’re nothing but a killer.”

“ No, this was a sacrifice I had to make, and believe it, it was worth it for this, for you. This is the fruit of my labor, of our labor.”

“ I had nothing to do in this ploy-!?”

“ Oh, but you did! DON’T YOU SEE. YOU WERE ON MY MIND THE ENTIRE TIME I KILLED THEM. I DID THIS FOR YOU, FOR US, FOR THE FUTURE.”

Light composed himself before returning back to his usual self.

“ This was a sacrifice we had to make if I told Misa to kill herself, she would. That would be too obvious though, so I’ll keep her around and you hidden. Just like L kept you hidden, history is repeating itself but only for a moment, we are looking at a new era [Y/N] one that I know you’ll understand, one that you will come to understand again. If you think about it, I’m cleansing your mind once again. You’ll experience what it is to taste

The Forbidden Fruit~

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #yandere oneshot #yandere death note #yandere light yagami #yandere light #yandere light x reader #light yagami #death note

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daughterofluthien · 3 years

Note

“decisions were respected” Sorry but didn’t Scott violently throw Isaac against a wall more than once just because Isaac liked his ex girlfriend in canon? That’s the literal opposite of healthy...

Hey, anon!

This is in reference to this post about Scallison for the shipping meme, where I said that one of my favorite things about Scallison is that the show lets them have a healthy breakup, and even date other people while still remaining friends. The scenes you are referring to are a pair of scenes in 3x13 Anchors.

So lets’s take a look.

(under a cut bc it turns out that when you try to be comprehensive, things get v long v quickly 😅)

The Scenes

I’m actually gonna copy/paste the dialogue of both scenes (along with minimal action/inflection notation for context) so that we can really make sure we know what we’re talking about here, so bear with me:

The first of these scenes occurs as Scott and Isaac are getting ready to head to school in the morning. After some initial ‘hey, what’re you doing, are you heading to school’ dialogue—during which both boys seem a bit awkward—we get the following:

ISAAC: [anxiously] Can I ask you a question? SCOTT: Okay... ISAAC: Are you angry with me? SCOTT: No! ISAAC: Are you sure? SCOTT: ...No. ISAAC: [awkwardly] What's that mean? SCOTT: I guess I'm not really sure how I'm feeling... ISAAC: [nodding] Okay. ...Do you hate me? SCOTT: [sighing] No, of course not. ISAAC: Do you want to hit me? SCOTT: [taken aback] No. ISAAC: I think you should hit me. SCOTT: I don't want to hit you. ISAAC: Are you sure? SCOTT: Why would I want to hit you? You didn't do anything, did you? ISAAC: [stammering] No. I mean, um... What do you mean? SCOTT: I mean, like, you didn't kiss her or anything, right? ISAAC: No! Absolutely not. No. SCOTT: ...Did you want to? ISAAC: Oh, yeah. Totally. [scene cuts to hallway outside the room. Isaac flies through the doorway and hits the wall] MELISSA: Hey! You two teenage boys? Don't test my entirely un-supernatural level of patience! ISAAC: ...Feel better?

The scene then ends, and we cut to subsequent scenes of Stiles and then Allison also getting ready for school.

The second scene is much shorter and happens later in the episode, after Isaac saves Lydia from an arrow that Allison fired while hallucinating. He and Scott are in Scott’s room again, and he’s telling him about the incident:

SCOTT: Right at her head? ISAAC: Almost right through it. And she keeps saying the same thing-- that she keeps seeing her aunt. Whatever's happening to you guys is getting worse. If I hadn't been there, then Lydia would be dead. SCOTT: ...What were you doing there? ISAAC: Uh... [scene cuts to hallway outside the room. Isaac flies through the doorway and hits the wall] MELISSA: [groaning] Oh, you guys, come on! This house does not have a supernatural ability to heal! So, stop it!

But of course just the text of the scene isn’t enough to accurately convey everything in even a tiny portion of a larger narrative, because nothing happens in a vacuum. With that in mind, let’s look at...

The Context

The first of these scenes occurs immediately after the opening credits, and is the first time we see either Scott or Isaac this season. (Assuming you consider 3B a separate season, of course, which is a whole ‘nother can of worms. This tv show we all choose to enjoy sure is Something.)

Often, the opening of a season is used to reintroduce the audience to the main characters—letting us know where their characters arcs are starting, and what they’ll be struggling with this season. Teen Wolf did this previously (and did it well, imo) in 3x01 Tattoo. Act 2 of that episode begins with a series of four scenes showing our main characters getting ready for school in the morning, highlighting where everyone currently is, and setting up where their arcs are going to go.

Scene order taken by itself would seem to indicate that they were trying to do something similar in this episode. It starts off with the hook of Stiles’ extended nightmare sequence. He can’t tell dreams apart from reality anymore, and wakes up screaming. Cut to black, cue opening credit sequence.

Immediately after the first ad break, we get a sequence of three scenes. The first is the longer of the two Scott and Isaac scenes (which, as previously mentioned, occurs as they’re getting ready to head out to school). The second is of Stiles. He’s packing for school, and the audience learns that he’s been struggling to read when he’s awake as well. Finally, we see Allison leaving her and her dad’s apartment. She seems like she’s doing fine, if a little over-focused. But then she gets into the elevator, and has an extended hallucination/flashback of Kate.

We learn soon after this that all three of them (Scott, Stiles, and Allison) are suffering from the aftereffects of their sacrifice in the previous season. According to the explanations we get both from Kira and, later, from Deaton, they’re slipping into bardo, or the space between life and death, and there’s a door open in their minds.

Okay, problem established.

It stands to reason, then, that all three of those opening scenes are supposed to serve to set up this problem. We’re shown, in three successive scenes, that all three of our sacrificees are, as the kids say, Not Doing So Hot.

(yes I know the kids don’t say that, let me be an increasingly out-of-touch millennial in peace)

This is all well and good, and honestly makes sense! Under this paradigm, the Scott and Isaac scene should be highlighting that Scott is Losing Control. Bardo is affecting him, and it’s causing him to be more aggressive. Giving in to violence in a way that he generally holds himself back from. Heck, the scene even starts with Scott flexing his fingers, and we (and Scott) see the shadow of a clawed hand against the door.

In the context of the narrative, it makes sense.

Except.

eXCEPT—

The Framing

The thing about the medium of television is that, when we’re talking about a scene, we can’t just look at the narrative structure. We also have to look at the scene itself: how it’s shot and directed, how it’s edited, even what music is paired with the scenes.

In the Stiles and Allison sequences, the scenes are very clearly shot for tension and horror. Long lingering shots on the things that Just Aren’t Right. Music that heightens the tension. Stiles gets some nice lil scare chords over the shot of the book that he can’t read, and there’s a very quiet droning in the background of the Allison nightmare sequence that slowly grows into some classic horror soundtrack music.

Okay. So far that tracks with the narrative thesis.

Now let’s take look at the Scott and Isaac scene.

We start out with some of those lingering shots I was talking about, as Scott is halted in his tracks when he notices the shadow of the clawed hand. We see his own hand is human and unshifted. There’s quiet, percussion heavy music over this portion of the scene that increases in tension at this point. Shaken, Scott closes his hand into a fist, and when he opens it, both the shadow and his own hand are smooth and human. The tense music fades out to silence, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

Scott opens the door to reveal Isaac, which startles him. There’s a short musical sting to underline this moment, and then the background music cuts out completely, leaving us (and them) in the awkwardness of this moment.

And OH BOY. IS IT AWKWARD. 😬

You can kinda see the Awkwardness Inherent in the System in the dialogue that I pasted up at the top—it’s a lot of back-and-forth, short statements, trailing off... And both Posey and Sharman are playing up the awkwardness as well. Neither boy looks like they really want to be there, and that includes Isaac, who initiated this entire conversation.

But here’s the thing.

The thing that really frustrates me about this scene.

It’s not the sort of awkwardness that exists to increase the tension. The sort that builds and builds until it reaches a fever pitch and you know something just has to give. You know, the sort of tension that you would want to build if you were showing how the protagonist of your show is no longer fully in control, and is on a knife’s edge of lashing out at his friend and beta.

Instead, it’s played for comedy.

And once again, a lot of this is down to the music.

Before the dialogue that I quoted at the top even begins, the music starts back up, and this time the tense percussion has been replaced by light, pizzicato strings. (That may not be the exact right term, fyi, I only really know enough about music theory to be dangerous.) But you know, the playful, plucked strings that often accompanies comedic or otherwise not-serious scenes.

Background music tells the viewer how they’re supposed to feel about the events in a particular scene, and the music here is saying that we’re not supposed to find this whole confrontation that dramatic. In fact, we’re supposed to find it funny.

But it’s not just the music that that frames this scene as comedic. It’s also the fact that we don’t actually see Scott shoving Isaac. Instead, the scene cuts to the hallway, and all we see is Isaac flying through the doorway.

Now, obviously I don’t have a direct line to the director and editors’ minds here. But I would bet money that those particular shots were chosen 1). because it’s so much easier to do a wire pull stunt when you don’t have to show what it’s in reaction to, and 2). because it’s kinda difficult to show your main character directly doing a violence and make it funny.

But show someone yeeted into frame, and that’s funny. Right?

(Spoiler alert: not in this context, it isn’t)

Now, I know I’ve been focusing on the first scene a lot—partially because it’s longer and partially because it’s really the only reason that the second scene exists—but I do want to take a look at the second scene really quickly as well. It’s much shorter and generally adopts a more serious tone than the first one, mostly due to fact that we’re smack dab in the middle of the action at this point. The weird visions that the sacrificees have been having all episode have started endangering lives, and they can’t just wait for it to resolve on its own.

But then the focused, intent exposition is broken by Scott’s question of “why were you there.” Then smash cut to a near identical shot of the hallway,and Isaac yeeting into frame.

The thing is, this scene is entirely dependent on the previous one. It only “works”—and I use this term loosely—as a call back to the scene at the beginning of the ep. Heck, both even have the stinger of a frustrated Melissa at the end of both scenes, frustrated at all the boys-will-be-boys roughhousing going on in her house.

Much like the first scene, this one is also set up and framed for Comedy.

Which is um. A Choice.

But What Does It All Mean

What frustrates me about these scenes, at the end of the day, is that the narrative intention and the directing/editing seem to be fundamentally at odds.

On the one hand, it makes narrative sense to say that the purpose of the scenes is to show that Scott is losing control. That he’s being affected by bardo and the open door in his mind, and it’s putting the people close to him in danger. But then on the other, the way the scenes are actually used are as comic relief. As a way to release tension between very tense, dramatic scenes.

I don’t think it works, as I don’t personally find it funny at all. But that really does seem to be the intention.

Once again, absolutely wILD choices were made on the part of tptb, and I really wish anyone had thought for two seconds about the implications of all of this, but nO

Ahem.

So now (literally 2K words later I’m so sorry 😅) what does this tell us about the characters? Certainly no one here is arguing that shoving someone is a good or defensible choice, whether it’s due to forces outside the character’s control or not. But even taking the influence of bardo in mind, is it even in character for Scott in the first place?

Because canon can also be written inconsistently/out of character, especially when we’re talking about a long-running show like tw.

One’s an Incident, Two is Coincidence...

Well, we all know the end of that saying.

So let’s end by looking at a few patterns.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this, once again, eXCEEDINGLY long post, this is reference to a post I made about scallison. I said the following in that post:

And I also really like that they [Scott and Allison] didn’t get back together. That they were allowed to be friends. That even though sometimes it hurt to watch someone you love loved love become romantically close to another person, decisions were respected, and no friendships were broken over it.

The first pattern we need to look at, then, is this:

What’s Scott’s pattern of behavior toward Allison and Isaac’s relationship?

And does Scott’s behavior toward Isaac in these two scenes match the pattern, or is it an outlier?

3x11 Alpha Pact: Sacrifice Prep The revelation that Allison and Isaac have grown close enough for him to act as emotional tether for her is very visibly a blow to Scott. He looks like the rug has been pulled out from under him, but he doesn’t look angry or upset, just.... sad. In fact, it looks like he’s swallowing back tears. But he nods towards the two of them and just says, “It’s okay.”

3x12 Lunar Ellipse: “I look for my friends” This is the epilogue of the season. Scott walks into the hallway at all of his friends in turn. Satisfied. Happy. First at Lydia and Aiden, then at Danny and Ethan. Then he turns and watches as Isaac and Allison walk down the stairs, and they’re laughing, and so obviously happy, and Scott’s small smile grows. He isn’t jealous here—he’s happy for them.

3x14 Illuminated: Mutual Recognition Scott and Allison are both at Danny’s halloween party, but they’re not here together. He sees her from across a crowded room, just like he did at the winter formal, so many months ago. But so much has happened, and they’re different people now. Allison’s with Isaac, and he’s starting to having feelings for Kira, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and that he doesn’t miss the relationship he and Allison had. For a moment, his fingers slip away from Kira’s, and he and Allison share a sad smile.

Believe it or not, these are actually the only other examples I could find of Scott reacting to Isaac and Allison’s relationship. And uniformly across them, he’s sad, yes—after all, he loved her, and that relationship is very definitively over now. But he never seems jealous, and he isn’t angry.

So, if the Scott and Isaac scenes in Anchors don’t fit the pattern of Scott’s behavior towards the new couple, what pattern do they fit?

“Hit me.”

The teen wolf writers have a... really upsetting habit, honestly, of “resolving” interpersonal conflict between two characters by having the “wronged” party hit the other. Afterwards, the tension is almost completely broken between them, as if letting the person act aggressively in a way consensual to both parties has somehow solved the problem.

2x11 Battlefield: Derek and Peter After Peter comes back from the dead, he confronts the now pack-less Derek and offers to help him. Derek, likely remembering that Peter killed Laura and was responsible for most of the events of S1, attacks him instead. After taking a beating, Peter says the following:

PETER: Okay, go ahead! Come on, do it! Hit me. Hit me. I can see that it's cathartic for you! You're letting go of all the anger, self-loathing, and hatred that comes with total and complete failure. I may be the one taking the beating, Derek, but you've already been beaten. So, go ahead. Hit me if that will make you feel better. After all, I did say that I wanted to help.

3x13 Anchors: Scott and Isaac We’ve already discussed this scene in uh. Detail. So I don’t think we need to go into the specifics again. But just a reminder that this dialogue exists:

ISAAC: Do you want to hit me? SCOTT: No. ISAAC: I think you should hit me.

5x15 Amplification: Scott and Liam During the previous supermoon, Liam—swayed by grief, the full moon, and Theo’s manipulations—tried to kill Scott and take his power. They’ve since rediscovered an equilibrium in their relationship, and Liam’s back in Scott’s pack, but they’re both still dealing with the implications of that event. In this episode, they’re attempting to break Lydia out of Eichen, but they’re not as strong as they should be, due to the mountain ash laced through the building, and are having difficulty breaking down a door. Then, the following exchange occurs:

LIAM: Hit me. SCOTT: What? LIAM: Hit me! I'll get angry, then I'll get stronger. STILES: Hit him. Hit him! LIAM: I tried to take your powers. I tried to kill you. Hit me! STILES: He also left you for dead. LIAM: I wanted you dead!

6x16 Triggers: Liam and Theo No one actually directly says “hit me” in this one, due to the circumstances, but the sentiment’s there. In this sequence, Liam and Theo are trying to convince Gerard and the hunters that the whole pack is hiding out in the zoo, so Theo goads Liam into hitting him, in order to stage a very audible fight.

THEO: Okay... Then they have to believe us.[shouts] Isn't that right? LIAM: [whispers] Why are you yelling? THEO: [shouts] You got a problem? Oh, that's right, you always have a problem! LIAM: [whispers] What the hell are you doing? THEO: [shouts] Shut up! [punches Liam] Yeah, you see that, Scott? Your little Beta can't even take a punch. And what do you think, Malia?

While there’s a variety of primary textual reasons here, all of them deal with personal issues between the pair, and all of them involve some level of catharsis for the person doing the punching. Taken all together, it’s honestly a pretty troubling pattern, especially given the inclusion of an actual canonical abuse victim initiating and receiving the violence.

TL;DR

This is a writer issue, not a character issue. The serious narrative context conflicts with the comedic framing in a way that is honestly baffling to me, and it doesn’t fit the established pattern of Scott’s character and actions. Moreover, it’s an example of the writers’ apparent belief that interpersonal conflict can and should be solved through consensual violence.

The pattern we do see, is that the Scott is saddened by the knowledge that Allison has moved on, but he’s glad that she and Isaac are happy. Similarly, Allison is saddened that Scott is moving on as well, because she does still care for him deeply. Despite their conflicted feelings, neither tries to disrupt the other’s new relationship.

On other shows, that would be a season-long, drama-filled plotline. Here, nothing.

And I legitimately love that so much.

#asks #anonymous #scott mccall #teen wolf #als;dkjlfkjf i'm so sorry that this turned out so long y'all #but it turns out that I have Thoughts #my meta

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galacticjava · 3 years

Text

so I know it's 2021 and death note aint exactly poppin anymore but let me say something here

one thing I love about death note that makes me both happy and sad is the fact that we are never shown how light actually is outside of the death note's influence. we see him for like twenty seconds before he picks up the death note, which is heavily, HEAVILYYYY implied to be cursed (Ryuk saying every human who's met with it has led a life of misfortune, light being DRASTICALLY different during yotsuba, it being said that the note makes people use it, etc)

so that gives people a LOT of wiggle room when writing light in fanfic. and that's fun and fine and good, but can I say that I am tired,,,, 🤌TIRED🤌 of seeing light just be actin exactly the same even when he's written as never even having touCHEd the death note

I GET IT, ITS YALLS AU AND YALL CAN WRITE WHATEVER U WANT HOWEVER U WANT!!!!!! it is yours to do with as u PLEASE 💕😤💕

But mannn my favorite light is a warm light. I rly like imagining light as being just as charming when he's himself as when he's Kira, BUT Real Light runs out of socially smooth, scripted things to say after about an hour, and eventually drifts into Dork Mode where he ends up talking about all this nerdy shit he's actually into (",,,,,,,,,,,,,,, have you heard of sanpaku eyes? I don't know how much merit it actually holds, but it's still an interesting observation. it means 'three whites' and it's in reference to how a lot of psychopaths have the top or bottom white of their eye visible around their iris--" "okay light")

more headcanons I have for my lil version of Actual Light I've created in my head:

• surprisingly funny and usually out of nowhere

• makes fun of L for being a "homeschooler" and how it explains a lot

• v close with sayu. plays wii and Pokémon with her and they go on morning jogs together before school while light quizzes her with unnecessarily complicated versions of her study guide to get a laugh in before breakfast

• much closer with his mom than he is with his dad. knows how to and is adept at sewing, cooking, and cleaning. I like to think his mom knew he Wasn't Straight Very Early On and they both know it but light still hasn't said anything out loud to her yet. they love each other v v much

• got his first and only failing grade when he was 14 just bc he forgot to do it. keeps a planner now and writes absolutely everything in it. L thinks it's funny bc light's so, so smart but he's also so forgetful. also forgets to eat all the time

• doesn't have any real friends and never has. really adept at socializing for a little while, but runs out of socially smooth things to say after about an hour, and that's kept him from making genuine friends bc no one else rly wants to talk about black holes or unsolved murders. has One Friend at To-Oh that sits next to him, and it's bc she listens to true crime podcasts and is rly interested in unsolved murders. that's it

• going off that, I also like to imagine light being really reALLY interested in L when he first meets him, not even romantically or anything. just bc hes never met anyone on his same wavelength and it's so cathartic just to sit and talk to L and not have to wait or slow down, bc L already knows what he's saying and what he means. loves playing chess as expected, but also loves playing "guess who" with L once they're good enough friends for a while to get there. they make up questions like "do they look like they wake up at 4:30 am every day and drink lemon water while they run before the sun is up" "yes" *flips down seven tabs*

• I see light as a heavy iced coffee drinker. not even bc he needs it to wake up or anything but just bc he likes the constant light buzz throughout the day, and it also helps him stay focused on everyday things that would otherwise bore him and make his mind wander. mans likes iced caramel macchiatos. eet eez what eet eez and it makes sense in my head

• don't clown me but y'all know how every lil genius in death note has their favorite snacks. aight so lights is fresh sliced oranges. mans could eat a whole bag by himself in an hour. I will not elaborate

• always does dress nice yeah, like Kira!Light, but also comfortably and sometimes like he's 45. Has never worn a pair of acidwash jeans in his life. Khakis or joggers 24/7, and the occasional slim fit dark jeans. has 20 cardigans. one pair of high top white vans, one pair of dark grey low top vans, and the rest would all qualify as business casual. doesn't know what a flip-flop is and will cut you off if he hears you say it

• loves cats and really wants one but soichiro doesn't want animals in the house. light secretly feeds a cat that comes to his windowsill every day and has named it "Mao" bc of its obnoxious meow. was once caught meowing at Mao to come closer by sayu walking home and she snapchatted it to him. sayu starts feeding Mao and scritching his ears while light goes to cram school

• openly likes tally hall, joji, mother mother, and glass animals. secretly likes ariana grande and lizzo. blares them in the car with sayu

• typical gifted kid piano player. soichiro signed him up for piano lessons upon learning light was gifted when he was young. uses his skills now to make piano renditions of cardi b songs

• sometimes bakes obsessively when stuck on something. during the Kira case, L walks in the headquarter's kitchen at 2 am to find a very tired looking watari and 16 apple crisps on the counter with light cutting out intricate dough shapes to decorate the tops. they meet eyes once light notices him and stay Silent for a minute. light says he can't get off the idea that it has to be supernatural, as silly as it sounds, because causing heart attacks in such a controlled manner is impossible. there's no way otherwise. L says he was starting to reluctantly think the same thing, but didn't want to overlook anything before he settled on that. they nod to themselves and light goes back to cutting out shapes. L grabs a plate of beignets light made a couple hours earlier and turns back around to walk out

well that's it. thanks for coming to my death note Ted talk

#death note #death note in 2021 ur readin that right #light yagami #I said the REAL light yagami #perfection #l lawliet #kind of #lawlight

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

invisible string

pairing: scott mccall/isaac lahey, background kira yukimura/malia tate and lydia martin/stiles stilinski

fandom: teen wolf

rating: mature

word count: 8924

warning: swearing, alcohol, past child abuse, minor character death, referenced homophobia

summary: When your soulmate gets a tattoo, the same one appears on your skin. And Scott McCall fears that they don't have one. (soulmates au, nonbinary Scott, they/them pronouns)

(hello my loves, i’ve been working on this project for @augustwritingchallenge for ages and it’s finally done! i missed scisaac and self projected on scott so yeah. thank you to my beloved Kaz for beta-reading, you’re life saver!!! i hope you all like this <3)

read on ao3

Scott McCall doesn’t have a soulmate.

They talk about it on television, in school, on the playground, in the supermarket. Scott hears their mom talk about it, and their classmates, and their teachers.

This is why they ask their mom late at night before they go to bed, at eleven years old. “How will I know who my soulmate is, mom?”

Their mother looked confused, but with her soft, familiar smile. They love her smile.

“Didn’t your teacher tell you, sweetheart?” she asks, and Scott has to concentrate, think back to every class and every word and every question. They bite their lip as they think, and their mom laughs in fondness, ruffles their hair. They push her hand away, even though it’s not that annoying, really.

“She said you get drawings on your body…” they begin, but frowns at themself, “But I don’t understand how. Will my soulmate’s name be in the drawings?”

Scott likes drawing, a lot. They don’t really understand how drawings would show them who their soulmate is, though, unless it’s their face.

Their mother chuckles again, but sits quiet for a minute. Scooby-Doo is still running on low volume on the TV, and the crickets have begun to chirp outside the window. And it’s windy, but Scott isn’t cold.

“They’re called tattoos,” she tells them, resting her head on top of their own as she hugs them, “I mean, it’s just something that happens. Your soulmate’s drawings, when they get them, you get them, too.”

Scott’s eyes widen, “Oh. Did they see what Stiles doodled on my hand in class today?”

Their mom plants a kiss on their hair before pulling away. Her eyes get all crinkled when she smiles so big, it’s very pretty. “I think so, yes.”

They chew their lip in some sort of contemplation, if they understood what that meant, yet. They can leave messages for their soulmate, then. They like that. But…

“When can I meet them?”

Scott’s mother sighs quietly, but doesn’t look angry or sad or disappointed, just tired. She turns off the TV and starts clearing up the coffee table while she replies, “Somehow you find them. Everyone finds theirs differently, different times. Their drawings tell a lot about them.”

They don’t like that answer that much. Ugh. They huff impatiently, “But I want to meet them! Now!”

And, of course, their mom is already picking them up, carrying them upstairs while chuckling quietly. The house seems bigger without their dad here. And more peaceful.

They like it much better like this. Hopefully it stays this way. Just Scott and their mom, they don’t need anyone else, they can’t even bring themself to care about where their dad might be or might be doing.

Okay, they need Stiles, though. His dad is nice, too.

“You’ll meet them, Scott,” their mother says while tucking them, “I promise you will, one day. But you have to be patient.”

They hate waiting. But their mom knows everything, she knows all the little beautiful things about the world, so Scott knows she’s right. Patience.

“Okay. Pinky promise?” they ask.

She hugs them again, for good measure. “Pinky promise.”

Scott has to be satisfied with the answer. But although their mother turns off the lights and leaves the door to their room just slightly ajar, they hide under their duvet with the sketchpad she gave them for their birthday last year.

Maybe this soulmate thing is like… a string. A string connecting them and whoever’s made for them, even though they’re miles away, at the other end of the world, even. They can’t see it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Like air.

They like that. An invisible string.

Scott draws two hands, connected by the string tied on their pinky fingers. They use the gold pen for the string.

Lately, the thought of their soulmate has moved to the back of Scott’s mind.

It rests there, because after months of worrying and thinking and crying and what they now recognize as gender dysphoria , Scott is about to tell their best friend that they’re nonbinary. They’re so fucking scared, they almost want to cry again.

They’ve already told their mom, which took them a month alone to decide on. Because what if she suddenly saw them differently? What if she didn’t love them anymore? What if she kicked them out?

It’s always been her and them, against the world. That couldn’t change.

And luckily, thank the stars and heavens above, it didn’t, and Scott’s never been so relieved in their life. They didn’t expect her to be close-minded or bigoted, they’ve always thought the highest of her, but the possibility, the fear still nagged there. They were so fucking glad to put it to rest, finally.

So here Scott is, in their bedroom on a late Wednesday afternoon, waiting for Stiles to finish his homework before he comes over to play video games, as they always do, twice a week, even though their parents eagerly want them to wait for the weekend.

Scott’s heart feels like it’ll jump out of their chest at any second.

They finally know who they are. They only assume the last puzzle piece of their whole self, of their soul to be completed by their soulmate, but the sense of peace they felt when they finally thought… this is who I am. This is who I’m meant to be .

What if Stiles doesn’t understand? No, what if he doesn’t accept them for who they are? What if his love is conditional? Fuck . Scott almost wants to scream.

Their heart is still clawing its way out of their chest when their best friend finally knocks on their window and lets himself in, a huge grin plastered on his face and carrying his own selection of games for them to compare with their own.

Stiles is always so happy. Well, not always, but he’s the rock Scott so desperately needs right now, like he’s been so many times before, and like they’ve been for him. They’ve drawn him many times before, and he always says he likes the drawings. And they let him doodle on their arm and hand when he’s anxious, because somehow they both find comfort in this.

They know the two of them aren’t soulmates, they think of each other as family rather than romantically, but they’re still meant for each other, they think. They hope. Stiles knows them better than anyone else, even their mother.

“You ready, Scotty?” he asks, chipper as ever, already turning on the playstation, and the nickname calms their ever painful heartbeat, just a little.

Here goes nothing.

“Yeah, uhm… Stiles?” they speak around the lump in their throat, “Can- can we talk first?”

Their best friend looks up at them from the floor, a slightly confused look on his face, but the smile intact. He returns to seat himself on the couch, not grabbing the remote. That makes Scott smile.

“Of course, Scotty. Is something wrong?”

“No. Yes. Uh, no. Shit, sorry-” they’re already stumbling over the words, fuck, but Stiles puts a hand on their shoulder, tentatively, but his precense calm and assuring.

“Don’t apologise!” his smile is crooked, and he crosses his legs before continuing, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean, take your time!”

Scott nods. They take a deep breath, the seconds ticking by. Closes their eyes together just for a moment. Opens again.

“Stiles, I…” they’re trying, calming their heartbeat with breathing in through their nose and out through their mouth, like their mom taught them. You can do this. “Please don’t freak out. I’m still me, like… I don’t wanna lose you.”

Their best friend frowns. “You’re not gonna lose me, Scotty.”

Scott gulps, nods. They’re trying. Really trying. “I’m nonbinary.”

They keep their eyes squeezed shut when they say it. It’s out there now. They don’t want to see his face change, if his reaction is bad, but they have to. They have to look. A beat passes. And Scott opens their eyes to find their best friend looking at them, smiling so hard his dimples are visible and nose scrunches up.

Oh, my god. That’s good, right?

“That’s great!” Stiles almost shouts, practically jumping in his seat. He does realise his volume, though, particularly since Scott’s mom is sleeping before her night shift. He clears his throat, “Scotty, oh my god. Sorry, I got excited. Thank you for telling me.”

Scott could almost fucking cry, again. But it’s happy tears this time, the nerves vanishing ever so slowly.

“You’re not… upset?”

Their best friend almost looks offended at the question, “Why in the world would I be upset?”

Scott bites their lip. God, they love Stiles so much, “I don’t know, uhm. I was scared you wouldn’t wanna be friends with me anymore. Because I’m not a boy.”

The brunette next to them goes all soft and gooey in his eyes, Scott would know that look anywhere. He also looks like he wants to jump them with hugs, but holding himself back, “Scotty, we’re ride or die, remember? I love you. You’re my best friend and that won’t change. What kind of asshole would I be to leave you like that?”

Scott laughs, Stiles is urging to hug them they can tell, like an oversized puppy.

And they’re speaking around the newly formed tears now, “I love you, Stiles. Like, so much. Thank you.”

Their best friend is grinning like an idiot. “What pronouns do you want to go by? Oh, and should I call you something else- like, not Scott?”

“I still like Scott,” they tell him, not bothering to cover the crying, because whatever. They’ve cried in front of each other plenty, “I’d like they/them pronouns, though, I think.”

Stiles nods eagerly, “Got it!” Then, “Can I hug you now?”

Scott rolls their eyes. Of course. “Yeah, come on.”

Their best friend practically tackles them in the hug, but it’s so bloody welcome, and so warm. Thank God they’re already sitting down.

“I want to be a tattoo artist,” Scott tells their friends at lunch, career day still settled in their mind from weeks ago, and the arguments roaming in their head on how to convince their mom to let them go for their first tattoo next month. It’s for their birthday.

Feels natural when they’ve always been fascinated by art as much as them. The galleries their mother took them to, they’re endlessly grateful for that, honestly.

And art summer school, and art elective, one thing leads to another. And tattooing is just art with skin as a canvas, they can’t stop thinking about it. Little works of art on your body, to carry around with you every day. It feels so special and with so much meaning - or with no meaning, they’re just as fun.

Stiles already knows - of course he does - and he’s excited about it, still, while Allison smiles as sweetly as ever, Malia’s eyes widen and she’s already convincing Scott to make her first one, and Isaac… is smirking?

It’s shy, but it’s there, they’re sure of it.

He was transferred to their high school six months ago, and frankly fits perfectly into their group, Scott thinks, even though their best friend doesn’t exactly get along with him. They’re idiots, but oh well, their idiots.

Isaac was nervous at first, they could tell. But when Scott gave him a smile in class, he gave one back, tentative, hesitant, but it couldn’t be mistaken. And once they started talking to him, questioning the red haired boy about games and lacrosse and his schedule, he opened up, slowly and surely.

Even though Scott did much of the talking at first, Isaac didn’t seem to mind. They apologised, knowing how fast and excited they can be, much like Stiles, but he still accepted the offer of having lunch with the gang, and he’s witty, and smart, and a good listener. Well, Stiles disagrees, but you know. They bicker just for the hell of it, at this point.

The two girls missing from the table quickly join them and Kira’s eager to catch up, “What are we talking about?”

Scott likes Kira, a lot. Maybe… maybe she’s their soulmate. God, they don’t know.

Her smile is very pretty, she knows so much cool stuff about astrology and is like, easily the best player on the lacrosse team, by a mile. Jackson’s always on her ass because he’s a douche, and definitely power-hungry after being named the new captain, but Kira rolls her eyes at him and brushes him off like it’s nothing. Scott admires her.

The two of them can talk for hours about music and other shit that Stiles only rolls his eyes a little bit at, but even though he calls them nerds, he also joins them way too often and unashamedly.

And he’s just acting uninterested to seem cool in front of Lydia, usually.

But at the same time, Isaac’s smile is also very pretty, and his jokes are the best. He always laughs at Scott’s jokes, too, which they really like. He keeps whispering sarcastic comments in their ear during class and rolls his eyes when the teachers aren’t looking, which makes Scott laugh.

And he’s an expert at texting in secret, always sending them pictures he took over the weekend of graffiti tags around town and puppies on the train and bumblebees, all because those reminded him of them.

Isaac’s nose gets all scrunched up when he laughs and his eyes squeeze shut.

The boy also loves zombie movies, which is a huge plus in their book, and wears big floppy sweaters that are excellent for hugs. Isaac is already a really good hugger, he’s always… warm and soft and safe.

Maybe he’s their soulmate. Stiles would be so upset if that were true, ha.

Scott’s listened to their mother, though, they know patience is a virtue, and maybe neither of them are their soulmate. None of them have found their soulmate yet, anyway, so they shouldn’t stress, right now, they should just look forward to the future.

“Scott’s gonna give me my first tattoo!” Malia exclaims excitedly, Lydia only seeming mildly surprised, “Right, Scott?”

They laugh, they love the brunette’s undying loyalty and curiosity a lot, “I gotta practice first, but yeah, of course.”

“You’ll get us all tattoos, right?” Allison winks at them, “We can be your guinea pigs.”

Lydia chimes in, “Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, come on Lydia!” Stiles gasps, “Don’t you trust my best friend?”

He’s so giving her heart eyes, right now. Scott’s used to it by now, and it’s adorable, only slightly annoying, given that his plan of asking her out has yet to be set in motion. They wonder if the redhead has noticed.

Lydia sends a crooked smile in their direction after flipping their best friend off, “I’ll trust them when they’re trained. No offense, babe.”

They shake their head, patting Stiles’ back. Love the defense of their honor, even when unneeded. “I feel the same way, Lyds.”

The support is unwavering and overwhelming with all of them, even Lydia. The most surprising and pleasant thing of the day, though, is when Isaac purses his lips as they walk to P.E., then smiles at Scott in a way they know is only meant for them, “You can practice on me, even though I’ll probably faint from the needle. Maybe I could get a turtle.”

Scott can’t hide their grin, “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

When Scott gets their first tattoo, Stiles holds their hand - before he faints, that is. He recovered quickly, it was endearing, really. They felt fine however; maybe the excitement filled up too much of their being to be worried about the pain.

Thankfully their mother approved of the tattoo and what they wanted to do with their art. She’d always been supportive, but, you know… sometimes, they worry too much. About everything.

She liked the drawing they chose, too.

Two rings around their bicep, simple black lines, but it meant a lot to them, and far, far from the last. It’s like them and their mother, they think: constant orbit with each other. She’s always protected them. They always want to protect her. Stiles called them a big old sap for it, and he’s right.

Scott planned it on their birthday, making sure to have the whole gang out for the fair, and roller skates, and showing off their tattoo with buckets of pride.

And if their stomach soared a little whenever a certain tall red haired boy smiled at them, that’s for themself to deal with. They think their best friend might be getting suspicious, given the half fond, half intensely weird looks he’s given them lately, when the whole group’s gotten together, but never said anything.

God knows if they knew what they would do about it. Scott doesn’t understand it, but… Isaac looking at them just feels right. It’s probably a little dangerous crushing on one of your close friends. Especially when you don’t know if they’re your soulmate, or who they are at all.

But apparently the universe finds it appropriate to sort this maybe or maybe not issue for them, after the fall break, when Scott finds Isaac’s seat strangely empty, and suddenly, the teacher’s shocking them to their core when she lets the class know the red haired boy’s been pulled out of the school and his family’s relocating.

In Paris. What… what the hell?

Scott doesn’t understand it. They can’t.

Isaac hasn’t said anything about this, they don’t remember, neither to them alone or to the whole group. Even Stiles looks at them with wide eyes, and Allison’s frowning from the back row.

The whole week the group doesn’t quite… work. They try to process it. Fuck. It just feels weird, unreal, not real at all.

Why would the boy just leave like that, unannounced? They would’ve hoped he would say goodbye. Scott doesn’t find themself wishing for an explanation, they just wanted to say goodbye. And ask if they did something wrong. Anything.

But the gang tries, of course, the routine returns piece by piece, even though Stiles and Lydia still argue about their possible theories on why Isaac left.

Scott just feels so, so guilty, for absolutely no reason. He seemed different after their birthday, somehow, which they’re only just thinking about now. Maybe they’re making it up, to rationalize it, somehow. They’ve got no fucking idea.

He didn’t come to school for a few days after their birthday party, that is, but… he was sick, he said. Just a fever. It was fine, he said.

Scott should get out of their own head. And Stiles says he’s the overthinker of the two.

And while their little world seems to circulate, still, Scott just feels numb, until three weeks later. Until their mother drops down on the couch while they’re watching reruns of Jeopardy and suddenly Scott has tears trickling down their cheeks, without even realising it.

Their mom seems just as confused, and upset, as themself, but she wraps her arms around them without even asking, of course she does. She tries to protect them.

But there’s nothing to protect them from, really. Just sadness. And a broken heart, maybe, one that they’re not even sure how to mend.

God, they wish Isaac was here. Guess he’s not their soulmate, after all.

Kira’s the first one of the group to find their soulmate. Actually, Kira and Malia, because it turns out they’re meant for each other.

It makes sense immediately to Scott, knowing of the brunette’s crush on the other girl, one she’s made vocal to them and Stiles since sophomore year. Wide eyes, making excuses for Kira to help her with her homework, grabbing extra dessert for her. Scott’s been rooting for them ever since they realised.

It’s just before senior year; where Malia proudly shows off the rubber duck tattoo Scott gave her on her ankle, after much discussion of how it should look.

“Like a rubber duck,” she told them, “But you know, with legs. Like a real duck. But not real.”

Scott had furrowed their brows while trying to follow, “Like a cartoon?”

And since she nodded, absolutely ecstatic, they got to work. They were so lucky to find an internship, and a mentor, and their mother looked so proud, almost near the verge of tears. She’s so dramatic sometimes, they love her for that.

Malia was a bit squeamish at first, which Scott doesn’t blame her for in any way, obviously. The ankle is a brave place for the first one, they’ll admit, but their friend insisted relentlessly, and they had to give in.

She put on a brave face soon enough, and took Stiles’ hand as much as she refused and called him a dick. And it turned out cool as hell!

Scott concentrates, hard, as they practice, and they’re still getting used to skin as opposed to paper. Softer, and they have to reangle their hands from time to time, even though they’re still stuck on smaller pieces for now.

They’ve been chewing their lip so much in concentration that it started bleeding once, a reminder to work off that habit. Maybe they should get Stiles to call them out on it. Like, do an eagle scream, or something, as he does whenever he wants to get their attention already.

Speaking of their best friend, he’s gotten a little better with it already, not afraid to look at the process now.

“It’s fascinating, I’ll admit,” he tells them on yet another one of their traditional game nights, “But way, way too painful, Scotty. How do you put yourself through several of them?”

Their own first was on the arm, of course, which isn’t too bad, and they kept the second one on their arm as well; Kermit the Frog. It’s funny. They like the Muppets. Sue them. Stiles loved it, too, so they’ve already got approval. Lydia definitely loves it, too, despite her initial skepticism.

But as Malia lifts her foot to show everyone on the bleachers, tradition as they wait for Kira to get off lacrosse practice, the very same girl nearly chokes on her water, prompting concerned looks from everyone, until Kira sits down and reveals her own ankle. The duck.

Needless to say, Malia becomes a blushing mess.

Kira, however, doesn’t look surprised at all. “I knew it was you!”

“Y-you did?” the girl stammers out, her foot still hanging in the air, probably out of sheer shock.

The dark haired girl giggles, wiping the sweat off of her forehead, before crossing her legs. She looks near bliss, Scott thinks. They’ve never seen an expression like that before. It makes them crave meeting their own even more.

The group stays in a strange, light, peaceful sort of silence until the coach calls Kira back, Malia’s face practically looking like a tomato at that point. Stiles is laughing hysterically at her, leaning on Scott’s shoulder, and she punches him several times until he hides behind them, almost using them as a shield. Almost, because Malia would never hit Scott, obviously, that’s reserved for the boy cowering behind them.

Their friends are such idiots.

The brunette freezes on the spot when her soulmate gets up, planting a kiss on her forehead before running off, saluting the group.

“We’ll meet at the ice cream stand!” she yells. Scott salutes back. Malia waves awkwardly.

“You okay, Mal?” they gotta ask, to reassure themself she hasn’t mentally shut off.

“Oh my god,” she squeaks, “Oh, yeah. Yeah!”

Stiles laughs even louder than before. Allison joins him. Malia may chase them both across the field, until the coach has to break them up, and now, the girl easily jumps into her soulmate’s embrace for protection.

Lydia shakes her head at it all. All in all an outstanding day for them, Scott thinks.

Straight out of graduation, tearful goodbyes to their friends even though they’ll see each other the week after, Scott’s got so far they’re taking clients. Their boss is proud of their progress, and they were a nervous wreck before the evaluation, but God, they feel a little proud of themself, too.

Of course, this means their friends are eager for them to practice on them and save money.

Kira’s the first in line; she wants the solar system, on a line down her spine. Scott isn’t surprised when she eagerly tells them about the planet symbolism, and she intensely stares at them drawing up the design, Malia sharing the excitement.

It’s her second, actually, the first being the one she got last year, in honor of her mom. She also seemed profusely apologetic for not going to Scott for her first, which they found adorable.

And yeah, they have to break it up in two sessions with a large piece like this, luckily the both of them are staying in town.

When Kira sees the finished result, she almost cried, they swear. “The colors are amazing, oh my God,” she tells them, already spinning around excitedly and hugging them tightly, “Thank you babeeeee. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Scott always finds themself giggling along with the girls, it’s only natural, “Don’t mention it.”

The two of them gasp, as shocked as in a Greek tragedy. “Keep mentioning it, dummy.” she tells them, and Malia adds, “You gotta book me for next week. I want a wolf!”

Allison’s the farthest away from the group, three states over; of course, they keep the promise of monthly reunions, more than once a month, even, which makes Scott feel impossibly warm every time. They still kind of wish Isaac was there. Damn.

It’s in April when Allison brings them a drawing she wants tattooed on her forearm. A portrait of a woman, with a bow and arrow, a stag at her side, and the moon looming over them both. It’s gorgeous.

“Obviously you’re a better artist than me, but this is my general idea,” she says sheepishly, as they hand her her bubble tea, “It’s Artemis.”

Greek goddess of animals and nature, that childhood obsession with mythology wasn’t for nothing. Allison’s been doing archery since she was thirteen, so it practically screams her. Scott gets seriously nervous about it, to be honest, like anxiously sweating kind of nervous, but luckily, she loves it. Thank God. They’re always scared to fuck up, especially on their friends.

But it’s way, way easier now, like they could do it asleep.

And that’s sort of put to the test, actually, because Stiles and themself decide to get drunk off their asses one Friday night, it’s been ages. And fuck it, they’re allowed to have fun. And enjoy cheap, horribly tasting beer at that.

Once they get home to Scott’s flat (taking the subway of course, even though their best friend had to be dragged away from his truck, they really dodged a bullet there, Jesus), Stiles gets to that point of his drunkenness where he starts getting philosophical and a little sad.

“What if I never meet them, Scotty,” he whines, in reference to his soulmate, that is. Scott themself gets extremely jumpy and bubbly under the influence, without failure, but they still know that frustration all too well.

“You will, honey,” they tell him.

“You promise?!”

“Prooooomise.”

They both contemplate his soulmate’s tattoos for a while. A flock of birds on his ribcage, a Sylvia Plath quote by his shoulder, a tree with its roots circling his wrist.

Neither of them has anyone they know in mind, but anything is possible! Scott still hasn’t spotted any of their soulmate’s tattoos. They’ve been thinking about it for some time now, and well. It’s disappointing, but they have plenty of time. They’ll get plenty more tattoos themself to their already growing sleeve, so they try not to worry about it too much.

Their best friend suggests they play Mario Kart, which can only end in disaster, but then, “You should tattoo my ass, Scotty.”

Scott blinks twice, the statement shocking their drunk brain just a bit, “What?

“My ass!” he exclaims, now happier than ever, yearning for his soulmate forgotten in a split second, “Babe, pleaseee. Wait. Wait, wait, draw Harrison Ford.”

They can’t even process the request before their best friend pulls a headshot of said actor up, and starts clearing the sofa, “Indiana Jones is his best role, like… like… yeah.”

Scott laughs long and hard, this is insane. Of course, their judgement is clouded by the alcohol, right now, so what the fuck, why not.

This is why Stiles ends up lying on his stomach with his jeans halfway down, Scott sitting by his feet, the light of the iPhone glaring both their eyes at 4am.

“Ow!” he yells, like, thirty times, each time they have to laugh and then shush him, because they really can’t deal with noise complaints as sleep deprived as they are right now.

“Stop moving!” they tell him.

“But I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Stiles drags out the two-letter word to the greatest extent, “Nooooo.”

“Yes,” they laugh again, “I believe in you.”

“Love you, Scotty,” their best friend proclaims, still yelling a bit, but finally lying relatively still.

Scott rolls their eyes, “Love you too, idiot. Won’t be long now.”

“Make sure you capture his eyes right, babe! It’s extremely important!”

“I know, I know.”

To Scott’s great surprise, the tattoo turns out incredibly detailed.

In fact, it might be some of their best work yet. They’re not quite sure if they should be proud that they can work while intoxicated, or ashamed that their best work is, well… when they’re not sober.

Stiles laughs for almost two hours straight, then gushes over it.

“I’m sorry, man,” they had to say, “It was stupid.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” he tells them from where he’s admiring his own ass in the mirror, “This is incredible. Holy fuck. You captured his DILF-yness perfectly.”

Scott rubs their eyes, they have slept till 2pm, and the sunlight still isn’t doing wonders for them, “His what?”

Their best friend returns to their bed and burrows his face in the pillow. “He’s a DILF! Dad I’d like to fuck!”

That’s definitely an explanation that wakes Scott right up. They’ve never heard of that acronym, but fair enough. They’re also rather speechless, which the boy next to them senses, when Stiles looks up and shakes his head, “Scotty, Scotty. Aren’t you lucky you have such an insightful best friend as myself?”

The morning ends in a pillow fight, naturally.

It’s no more than a day after their night out that Scott finally, finally convinces Stiles to call Lydia and ask her on a date.

He’s sworn to his ten-year plan for ages now, with little to no action on his part, so this is major progress. Their best friend spills all his worries to them, but honestly? Scott isn’t all that worried.

They can’t say for sure what the outcome will be, but judging by Stiles’ retellings of the late night text conversations and smiles the red haired girl shoots in the boy’s direction when she probably didn’t realise people were looking, Scott’s got some sort of feeling that their friend might feel the same.

Okay, they haven’t talked to Lydia about it, admittedly. They swore secrecy to their best friend, and they intend to keep that promise.

But Scott recognizes that gleam in her eyes. It’s much like Malia’s looking at her soulmate, they think. Or maybe they’re completely in the wrong. They probably shouldn’t doubt it, or Stiles will only doubt himself more.

“She’s way out of my league, Scotty!” he exclaims for the fifth time on their FaceTime, as he’s listed pros and cons to the proposition.

They smile at the boy on their phone screen, trying to look as assuring as possible, “Lydia’s awesome, I know. But you shouldn’t put yourself down as much as you do, you know that, right?”

Stiles huffs, “I know.”

“You do?”

“I do!” he almost whines.

Scott nods, “Alright. Babe, the worst thing that could happen is that she says no. You won’t know unless you try.”

“But what if it ruins everything?” their best friend worries again, “Maybe she won’t… want to be friends, then. I don’t wanna upset her-”

“Stiles,” they feel the need to interrupt, readjusting themself on the couch, “She likes you, I know it, even if it’s just as friends. If she says no, then you’ll know and you can get over her. I don’t think she’d cut you off completely. She cares about you.”

Stiles sighs, deeply and dramatically, but the look on his face tells Scott that he knows they’re right.

“If you say so.”

And not even an hour later, their best friend calls them up again, flimsy camera and nearly screaming, because Lydia Martin said yes. Stiles looked like he was near tears.

Later that night, Lydia texted them, asking if he would find a picnic in the park too boring for a first date - clearly, she was nervous, and Scott’s never seen, or heard her nervous before. They think the two of them will be just fine.

Granted, neither of them know who their soulmates are, but when they’ve liked each other for as long as they have, to hell with it, right?

Scott spends the night and next morning thinking about it. Less about their friends, who already arranged the date today, as much as they’re excited for them. They just… now there’s two couples in their friend group. They’re so happy for their friends, they really are, but this soulmate thing is looking a bit frustrating, sometimes.

When Allison came out to the group as aromantic and asexual in the beginning of junior year (and after Scott hugged their friend so she nearly feel over on the grass, the nerves disappearing from her laugh much the same way that they had felt when they came out to Stiles, and the rest of the group) Malia blurted out a question, “Do you have any soulmate tattoos?”

“Mal!” Lydia gave her a pointed look, but the dark haired girl chuckled.

“It’s fine,” she told her best friend, and all of them, “I don’t. Either the universe knows what’s up and hasn’t given me one, or whoever it is just doesn’t have tattoos. Fucked if I know how it all works.”

Scott hates the fact that it created a nagging little thought in the back of their mind. It’s still tiny, but still living there, showing its ugly head late at night when their anxiety gets at them.

Maybe they don’t have a soulmate at all.

Shit.

Fuck.

What if?

They don’t have much time to worry about it that evening, though, when some stubborn knocks sound on their door, and they open it up to reveal Lydia and Stiles. They’re holding hands, Scott can’t help but grin.

Stiles has much the same expression on his face. Lydia looks a bit furious.

“Did you tattoo Harrison Ford on his ass?” she asks, voice impatient.

Their eyes widen, and look back and forth between them, but their best friend just looks lovestruck and a little confused.

“You showed her?” they ask, and the redhead sighs, “No. I’m asking because I have a picture of Harrison Ford on my ass.”

The shock takes the both of them aback.

Lydia’s upset about the tattoo, not them being soulmates, thank God, because Scott was rooting for them a lot. She rolls her eyes hard as they explain their drunken mishap, crossing her arms, but they’d know the fond smile anywhere. She doesn’t hide it anymore.

“Sorry,” Stiles says over and over.

Needless to say, the boy freezes on the spot when Lydia rises and shuts him up with a kiss, “You’re an idiot, you know.”

He nods eagerly, “I know.”

“Yet I love you,” she states, and Stiles looks like he’s about to faint.

“You-you do?!”

Lydia looks content, and takes his hand again. She also ruffles Scott’s hair with her other hand, commending them for bringing them together, evidently, “Obviously.”

It’s the first day of December, a little after midnight, that Scott comes to a conclusion.

They’ve been lying awake in bed for two hours now, tossing and turning, and since they can’t sleep their brain starts going into overdrive.

The group is gonna have a get together before they return home to their mom. Stiles constantly gushes about Lydia, of course. Kira called them on Malia’s birthday and confessed that she’s thinking about proposing to her girlfriend on New Year’s Eve.

They… are happy for them. So very much. They’re not lying in any way.

But why the fuck do they feel so lonely?

They’ve been paying more attention to their skin, desperately keeping their eyes out for tattoos that aren’t their own. Maybe they could’ve missed if it blended into their now fully closed sleeve. Or… or maybe it’s in a place they didn’t think of before.

But days have been going on and on, and Scott has been counting every single one of their pieces, and every single one they recognize.

The lavenders and forget-me-nots, the Millennium Falcon, the pac-man, their mother’s favorite song, the idiot #2 tramp stamp that matches Stiles’ idiot #1 .

Nothing unfamiliar, nothing’s out of place.

This is why the thing that’s been worrying them sick ever since that day their tall, red haired friend had mysteriously dropped out, and almost vanished into thin air, finally sneaks out of its hiding place and hits them with full force.

It must be the only liable explanation.

Scott probably won’t get any sleep tonight. Scott’s also pretty sure they don’t have a soulmate.

They’ve been living with the fact that they don’t have a soulmate for, hm, well - almost two years now. And it’s fine, really. They’re slowly getting used to it, anyway.

Scott told their mother after Christmas when they realised, and she almost worries out of her skin, but they were a bit too embarrassed to cry in front of her then. Hopeless romantic and all.

Stiles also reacted to the conclusion by cuddling them for a whole weekend, letting them win every video game they played and buying them so many snacks it’s shocking neither of them passed out from that heavy of an amount of sugar.

All their friends shared their frustration, and sadness, in their own way, and so they never felt alone about it. Always and endlessly supported. They love them so much.

But yeah, they just had to carry on with life. What else is there to do?

And although they still think about it in both good and bad moments, they’ve distanced themself just a little bit from it all, worrying just an inch less, working hard and spending time with their best friend and gang whenever possible.

It’s getting easier, more peaceful.

Scott’s set up an Instagram dedicated to their portfolio, and clearly their friends got the word spread back to Beacon Hills, and around it. And lots of other places. Kira and Malia became their unofficial promoters last summer, when the couple went on a road trip around Europe, to celebrate the engagement.

The wedding is this summer, also, which Scott cannot possibly contain their excitement about. They love those girls.

Their best friend is joint best man, of course, Allison joint maid of honor, and the reception playlist is already piled upon with Dolly Parton and Megan Thee Stallion. They love their friends’ music taste, for real.

So all in all, they’re doing pretty great. Well, February is filled with a bit too much of the Valentine’s Day ads and hype for their taste, but they’ll come to not mind it eventually. Hopefully.

And right now, Scott’s headed for the tattoo parlor (they got a permanent position, holy fuck) to draw up some designs and check out the bookings for next week. It’s a quiet afternoon, after the weekly morning call with their mother, and the group chat is ever so chaotic as always.

They’ve already got, like, sixty missed messages since they left the flat, Jesus.

And so they’re stood on the train station, train arriving in five minutes, checks their phone and then-

Then. Holy fuck.

Is this real life?

Are they imagining things?

Or is it… is it him?

On the opposite side of the tracks, Scott spots a tall figure, with curly red hair and dressed in a green turtleneck and black jeans. They must be confusing them.

Except the person turns around, and, oh my God.

It’s Isaac. It’s Isaac Lahey.

And Scott doesn’t know what to fucking do, except their jaw drops like an idiot, staring until the boy-uh, man on the other side widens his blue eyes, looking directly into their own brown. This is real.

About twenty agonizing seconds pass by as they both process what’s happening before the redhead waves, a small, hesitant one. So naturally, Scott waves back.

That’s that. Then Isaac points in the direction of the exits. They nod immediately.

He leaves. They leave. Oh God, oh god, oh god.

When Scott ascends the stairs out onto the bustling streets, it seems like they’ve been waiting forever. Their brain is such a drama queen.

And there the red headed man stands- he’s tall, still, half a head taller than them. When he spots them going in his direction, a smile forms on his lips, and it’s soft and shy and all too familiar.

This could easily have Scott in tears, but they hold it in.

When they’re finally face to face with their old friend, they can’t help returning the smile. Isaac keeps moving his gaze from their eyes to the ground, back and ground, like he’s scared to look at them too long. Scott swallows around the lump in their throat, unsure of what to do.

They never, ever, in a million years expected this to happen. They never thought they would see him again. Yet, here he is.

Scott clears their throat in an attempt to sound cool and collected, although they fail horrendously, “Hey.”

“Hi,” the taller man answers.

Well, that’s a start, right?

Yet again they’re processing, thinking, they can almost see the cogs in Isaac’s brain turning, until their mouth decides to speak before their brain can decide on the words, “Can I buy you a coffee?”

Thank their lucky stars, Isaac nods instantly.

And it’s when they’ve gone to the nearest café, Scott nursing a café latte while Isaac settles with his iced coffee, that they start talking. And talking. And talking.

The conversation flows immediately, and so easily, almost like they were never apart.

It’s surprising, yet safe. Scott has to ask what they could only wonder about all these years.

“Why did you… why did you leave?” they get out, before they can lose their courage. And when their old friend’s mouth twists into a frown, and his eyes fill with something like a pained memory instead of nostalgia, they instantly regret the question.

Isaac speaks before they can apologise, though, “I’m sorry.”

“I was about to say the same, I didn’t mean to-”

“Scott, no,” he interrupts, with a small sigh, “I want to tell you. It’s, uhm… maybe it’s easier if I show you.”

They find themself furrowing their brows in confusion, “Show me?”

The man nods and takes a sip from his coffee before he rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie. And then… there’s a Kermit, there, on his wrist. The lavender branches travelling up his arm, right up to the two black bands, encircling his bicep.

Scott feels like the world is moving in slow-motion. It’s just Isaac, in front of them. And he’s got all their tattoos.

They realise they’ve been quiet when the man in front of him starts looking worried, and so they say the first thing they can think of, “You’re my soulmate?”

He nods again.

Scott has a soulmate. They’ve got a soulmate and… he’s right in front of them.

The boy they’ve been harboring feelings for since they first became friends. The tall, clumsy stranger who’s overly critical of zombie lore and talked in his sleep whenever he stayed over at their house, and… the boy who hugged them in the queue to the go-karts, just because he could.

Holy shit.

Scott doesn’t even realise the tears falling from their eyes before Isaac’s confusion intensifies, and they try to wipe at their cheek, a little embarrassed. But fuck that. “Sorry. Oh my God. Isaac, I thought- I thought I didn’t have one. Shit, I was terrified. I never got any tattoos… that weren’t my own.”

And so, the redhead’s smile starts getting a little teary as well. He chuckles, his voice breaks, but he looks so happy. They’ve missed that smile beyond belief.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “Still not good with needles.”

They smile at each other in the silence for a moment. Scott doesn’t want to keep questioning if Isaac doesn’t want to tell them, so they just… look at him for a moment. He still is just as pretty as last time they saw him, but he’s grown his hair a bit longer, his arms more defined, he’s wearing tighter jeans than he used to.

The bustle of the other residents and the baristas busy behind the counter goes on for a beat, before Isaac speaks again, “I didn’t leave by choice. I-I would’ve said goodbye. If it was my decision.” Scott nods. They know.

“It’s my dad,” the redhead continues, “Uhm… ever since my mom died, he… became violent. He beat me. And when he didn’t, he, uh, locked me in the basement. Those were my sick days.”

The man in front of him winces, wipes at his eye in defiance and Scott does, too.

Fuck. Fuck . And they never fucking knew.

“Isaac… I’m so, so sorry. Fuck,” they feel they still have tears threatening their way, and they don’t know how to stop them, struggling with their words. “I should’ve been there for you, I should-”

“Don’t,” he tells them, “You didn’t know, Scott. None of you knew.”

“But I should’ve known-”

“It’s not your fault. Please believe me when I say that.”

They nod again. Isaac still has that timid smile on his face, as teary as it is, as their smile probably is as well. The thought of their friend being abused, and… going through it alone , not being able to reach out for help, that no one fucking stepped in, it pains Scott in an unspeakable way, right now.

The redhead swallows before speaking again, “After your birthday, after your tattoo, well, I got it as well. And it didn’t take long for him to piece together that it was you. He monitored my phone. And he was a fucking bigot, so his reaction wasn’t exactly positive.”

Scott feels the urge to hold Isaac’s hand, and in fact, before their brain can stop it their hand already touches his on the table.

When they realise, they take it back, “Sorry, I didn’t-”, but Isaac grabs their hand back again, his lying on top of their own. He sniffles, wipes at his eyes again, but the warmth radiating from him is immediate.

“So he forced me to France, cut me off from everyone, and we stayed there, and I cried myself to sleep every night,” he tells, his frown deepening, “Until Camden was discharged.”

His older brother, Scott remembers. He signed up for the army.

“He lived with us for three days before my dad threw a glass at me over the dinner table, right in front of him. My brother knocked him out on the spot. We got the hell out of there.”

Isaac smiles again, breathing a little easier. Scott feels the same.

“I’m glad,” they say and squeezes his hand. Their heart flutters when their friend squeezes it back.

“So…” Isaac starts again, a sigh escaping his lips, “Now I’m here. That was two years ago, and, uh, yeah. We roamed around for a while, too scared he’d try to find us. Camden got us a place out of town, though, it’s too… loud in here sometimes.”

He runs his free hand through his curls and takes another sip of the coffee. Scott’s practically forgotten about their drink by now, it must be cold.

“And a therapist,” the redhead says, “I got a therapist. I need one.”

His smile grows, little by little. It’s still the shy one, just like Scott remembers, screwed up by tears and the rain. He looks happy in their company. They hope so, at least. They hope he’ll be okay, that he gets to be happier. They want him to be happy.

“I’m so happy you’re out of there, I…” their voice breaks halfway, and they both chuckle at it, “I worried myself sick about where you were. I just want you to be okay.”

Isaac bites his lip in the smile, “I will be.”

“Good.” A thought hits Scott, though, “Your dad, he doesn’t know you’re back, right? If that fucker finds you-” “He’s dead.”

“Oh.”

Isaac nods, “Neighbours in Paris called my brother about four months ago. It feels morbid to say, but honestly… Camden bought champagne.”

“I would’ve done the same,” Scott says, with zero hesitation. The redhead’s peacefulness has an effect on them, like a warm embrace. However, when a customer in the queue yells at the barista, Isaac flinches, and they’re just about ready to take him by the hand and get out.

They’re still wondering about their friend’s feelings towards them, because… they’re soulmates. But people don’t always stay together. People don’t always get together.

Scott knows they’re just as much in love with Isaac as they were back then. It’s come back in full force, and the longer they look at the man, it just makes them want to wake up to the sight of him, every single morning. Listen to him rant about zombies for two hours straight and eat McDonalds at 3am and kiss in front of Stiles until he tells them to get a room.

Their best friend probably already knows about their feelings towards the red haired man. They never told him, but he’s scarily knowledgeable sometimes.

“Isaac,” they start, trying to figure out how to ask, Isaac still grazing their hand with his thumb, “About the tattoos. I’m in love with you. I hope that’s not too blunt, but… I’ve liked you since we met, I think. If you don’t feel the same, I understand-”

“I love you,” he states, immediately, and surely. He squeezes their hand again as both their smiles almost turn to grins, “Sorry. I could yell it at the top of my lungs, if you want. Soulmate.”

This might just be the best day of their fucking life.

“Want to get out of here, soulmate?”

In the little parlour at the corner, the gang’s all crowded up, even though the shop’s supposed to be closed. They closed two hours ago.

Yet, Scott’s friends have formed a small circle around the chair, where their soulmate’s taken his shirt off to allow them to tattoo his collarbone. Masterpiece , the piece says, but it’s mirrored, so he’ll be able to read whenever he looks in the mirror.

Isaac’s facetiming his brother, too, who’s already given Scott the big brother talk; secretly, he loves them, the redhead told them so.

“You ready?” they ask him, planting a kiss on their soulmate’s hand, and he nods.

“Ready.”

“Tell me if you need a break, okay?”

“I will, baby,” he says with a chuckle, but Scott needs to be sure.

“Seriously, whenever-”

“I know,” Isaac laughs, and kisses their cheek, which never fails to make them blush, despite the many, many kisses they’ve had until now. In all places. And more than kisses. Their soulmate is the most incredible person they know (sorry, Stiles), and they just want to keep learning, discovering everything about him.

He still talks in his sleep. He found a much better therapist than the first one, and he has fewer nightmares now. Sometimes he wants to talk about them, sometimes he just wants Scott to hold him. He likes to be the big spoon. He hates the smell of coffee and eats excessive amounts of bacon. He likes to wake Scott by tracing their tattoos with his hands in the morning, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll steal the comforter and jump in the bed. He’s still such a nerd.

Every moment with him is unbelievably peaceful.

Their soulmate takes a deep breath, nods and so Scott gets started on the tattoo.

“Want me to hold your hand?” Stiles asks with a laugh, but they’re pretty sure the offer is genuine. Those two have been taking a liking to each other, after all, no matter how much they deny it.

“Absolutely not,” Isaac fires back, and the brunette gasps, making their soulmate smirk, “Lydia can hold it.”

She does, no matter how grumpy her soulmate looks. Malia’s nearly on the floor laughing.

This is safe. This is home. They’re all soulmates in a way, meant to be tied together, no matter where in the world they might be. And they’re so bloody happy to have him, and them, in their life.

Scott McCall has a soulmate.

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kusagrasskusa · 3 years

Text

Light X Reader Part 2 - Betrayal

Part 1, Part 2

READ THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU'VE RESD PART 2 BEFORE- So this paragraph used to talk about how I kept on remembering to save my drafts, and evidence of which isbthat when this was posted, it wasn't finished. I completed the whole story, and it was pretty long, but it all went to shit. So if you read this story before, feel free to check out the real ending.

@comradedani you brought me deep into the Death Note fandomm- And again, sorry for the low quality writing. I'm writing this at school lol

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

"Y/N, Y/N help! I messed up!" B/N yelled as he busted in Y/N's room and opened his schoolbag. He pulled out a piece of paper and turned it towards his older sister so she can see. Y/N sounds around in her chair, facing her brother.

"Jesus, you scared me!" Y/N huffed, reading the paper B/N had. Turns out he had a report card in his hand; one with 3 Fs, 2 Ds, and 3 Bs. "And those grades scare me more, what the hell," Y/N stated, a sly smile appearing on her face. "Dad's gonna be pissed when he reads that, haha," Y/N laughed, leaning back in her chair.

"It's not funny! You know dad's all about good grades and ever since his detective work increased, he's been more stressed about grades! I don't want to get grounded," B/N retorted, making a pouty face. He put his report card back into his bag and picked up his bag. "And dad usually comes home at this time. You know he's gonna be curious."

"Well, just don't tell him you have your report card," Y/N said casually, returning to her homework in front of her. She leaned on the desk, writing down answers as if they nothing.

"Oh, why didn't I think of that," B/N rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Mom gets emails from my school, Y/N. She's gonna find out about and tell dad, y'know." B/N sighed, fumbling with his hoodie strings. He opened the door and spoke, "dad's gonna be home soon, so bye I guy." He then left.

Y/N sighed, trying continuing to work on her assignments as if nothing happened. Although her focus was never fully on her assignments anyway, and our reader should know why. It's hard to concentrate when your mind keeps on going to the man you love who you felt betrayed you. Though to be fair, Light and her were never dating to begin with however Light was completely aware of Y/N's feelings towards him yet he choose to put her in that situation: where she had to be calm even though she was hurting inside.

Y/N took a deep breath before leaning back in her chair and shutting her eyes tightly. Don't let the tears fall, you're too strong for this, she told herself. For the past week, she's been feeling nonstop regret and of course, sorrow. Not to mention pure jealousy of Misa Misa; a pretty, popular model/actor. She refused to question how Light got to meet a women like that, since afterall Light was popular as well.

"You know what? I overreacting," Y/N said to herself, standing up sharply in her chair. She stretched her arms before taking a deep breath and putting on a smile. "There's more important things to worry about; like that damb Kira case. All I need to do is just call him and ask to meet up, right? He's forgiving..." She told herself, taking a deep breath again to ease her anxiety.

For the past week, Y/N had been thinking nonstop about her yelling at Light. She hadn't seen him sense, and there's been no communication between them. From a certain perspective, it almost seems like they really are overdramatic and acting very edgy, which is definitely true to an extent. However two friends arguing over something that's pretty serious for the first time is bound to cause some trouble. And when one friend feels almost betrayed, it gets worse.

Anyway let's go to B/N after about 15 minutes.

"Good afternoon, B/N," the tall, H/C haired man with grey ends due to stress, spoke. He held a nice smile on his face as he took his jacket and put on the coat hanger then took off his shoes. B/N smiled nervously, chuckling unsteadily as he waved.

"Hi, dad! Uh...how was your day?" B/N asked, holding his report card to his chest. His dad raised a brow and snickered.

"Strange. You never care to talk to me when I get home. Only when you're hungry or your mom says no to something," he teased, making B/N huff and cross his arms. His dad chuckled, "I'm joking. Anyway, what's that you're holding?"

B/N smirked nervously holding out the paper for his dad to grab, which he did. "I got my report card today, haha." His dad scanned over it for a few moments, frowning and his eye brows furrowed together.

"Are you skipping school son? I've never seen grades this bad and you've had rough years," he mumbled as he walked towards the living room. He say on the couch and sighed loudly, making a shiver crawl down B/N's spine.

"Nuh-no... It's just that the teachers have been putting a lot of pressure on us since we're about to go into highschool, heh."

"I don't understand. Are you just not understanding the material or are they putting too much work out?" The dad looked his son right into his eyes, making the atmosphere a bit more tense. B/N felt weak under his eyes; it's not because he was scared of his dad, it's because his dad has really high expectations and he's scared of failing them.

"Both. It's both," he mumbled, fumbling with his hoodie strings and tapping them together, making that quiet metallic clinking sound. "And I've always struggled with math, too, y'know. I don't understand how they expect me to know the Pythagoras Theorem after simply giving me 5 assignments daily about it."

The dad stood up from the couch. There was a moment of silence before he spoke: "I have to make a phone call. If you go to the trunk of the car, I got you something in a plastic bag. Don't tell your mom," he smiled to his son as he walked away, leaving B/N both confused and curious.

A few hours later and Y/N hummed to herself, watching a movie featuring her favorite actor on the couch besides her dad. He was on his laptop typing away on the keyboard while occasionally glancing at the TV. B/N was in the corner of the living room, playing a new game his dad just bought him on his Nintendo. It was quiet aside from the TV playing, at least until their dad spoke up.

"So, son, I forgot to mention who I called earlier. I asked if a coworker of mine would mind tutoring you for a bit."

"You...what?" B/N asked, pausing his game and turning back to see his dad. "Why?" Y/N gasped quietly, covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Her little brother glared at her and their dad, his nose scrunching up from annoyance.

"Well, you don't understand the material, right? That's why?" He explained, staying the obvious. Y/N giggled at his tone.

"Who is it, dad?" Y/N asked, rubbing her tired eyes.

"Oh, I won't say. But you two have met before," he replied, smirking playfully at his daughter as if he was planning something. "That's all the hints you get.~"

"Okay, now I'm so curious," Y/N mumbled, yawning. Who do I know who he works with? I know he works with the Kira investigation and I never met anyone there, I don't think. She shrugged it off as she kinda didn't care too much about whatever would happen in her brother's life since why should she? "Whatever. I'm tired," she mumbled as she rubbed her tired eyes. Her father looked over at her and smiled.

"Heh heh, alright darling. Get your sleep; you have a long day of school tomorrow." Her dad pat her head as she giggled and stood up. She hugged him before mumbling a goodnight. She then headed up the stairs, though she overheard her dad speak as she was walking. "Your tutor lives in the same neighborhood so he will come over shortly after you come home."

Y/N hummed as their conversation went quiet due to her being too far up the stairs to hear. She found her way into her room and closed the door behind her whenever she got in. Huff. Her hair was lifted from her shoulders as she put her hair in a ponytail in order to keep it from being too messy when she wakes up.

Layjng in bed, she furrowed her eyebrows together and sighed. Four entire weeks since she's talked to Light all because he found a girlfriend. Y/N felt more embarrassed of it then upset; well, she's still jealous but she knew she didn't have to avoid her friend of years because of something so stupid. What happened to the Y/N who would tell herself that even if he found a girlfriend, she would be better? Those were good times. And she would tell herself that she would call up Light and ask to meet up as friends but she gets so anxious about it and that anxiety turns into embarrassment.

It was kinda hardt to fall asleep with thoughts circulating her mind all night. But eventually, sleep came, and she sokn found herself waking up a couple hours later, going to school, and then coming back home.

Y/N waved goodbye to her friends as they dropped her off at her house. "Bye! Haha," she giggled as one of them stuck their whole body out the car window to yell out goodbye and wave her hands.

"Bye-bye, girl!" She yelled playfully as the car drove away to drop off her other friends. Y/N giggled again as she watched them pass and playfully rolled her eyes before spinning around. She took her time walking to the front door and pulling out her keys, as the door isn't unlocked ever and her parents are at work. Yet as she stuck her key into the house, the front door cracked open.

"....What the fuck," she mumbled as she took her key out of the door and pushed herself inside. It was so quiet which was weird considering B/N was loud as hell on the couch when he got home. He got home like 15 minutes before she did too. "B/N!" Her voice called out as she shut the front door and locked it.

"I'm in the kitchen!" Thank God he isn't dead. Well, sorta thank God. Y/N smirked as she set down her bookbag, took off her shoes, and took out her phone. She checked her notifications as she walked into the kitchen/dining room.

"You forgot to lock the front door," she said as she giggled, looking up from her phone. Bam! The phone hit the floor as Y/N's eyes stayed on Light's, almost like a staring contest was happening between them. Well, it sorta actually was because the brunette who was assisting B/N on the dining table spoke up once Y/N blinked.

"You blinked; I win, heh heh," he smirked. "Hey, Y/N! Long time, no see, huh?" He leaned back in his chair, waving his hand towards the stunned girl.

"I, uh...I wanted to call and meet up with you but I thought you were mad," Y/N said shyly as she picked up her phone. Blush dusted her cheeks as she examined her phone to check if it were broken.

"Same here, actually. I'm happy it's not like that."

"Muh-Me too, heh..."

Y/N but her bottom lip nervously as the room went into an awkward silence. B/N sighed before breaking the painful silence, much to Y/N's relief. "I think I understand this now," he said. "To find A, it's C^2 - B^2 = A^2. To find C, it's A^2 + B^2 = C^2."

"Very good!" Light smiled warmly as he pulled B/N practice assignment from him and examined it. He had a red pen in his hand and with it he marked a few things. "You did very well on these, apart from 3, 7, 8, and 12. But then again, those questions were hard for me to solve when I was in 8th grade."

"Really? But you're so smart! And I'm actually in 7th grade, advanced math," B/N said proudly with a cheerful look on his face.

"It really shows how smart you are, heh heh," Light chuckled as he handed back his assignment to B/N. "Can you try these again? I circled the part of the equation you messed up with so hopefully it helps."

Y/N was across the room in the pantry to grab chips. Once she grabbed her favorite kind, she headed out of the kitchen and towards her room. Light looked over at her leaving and sighed. Suddenly, he heard Ryuk talk. "You do realize that this is a good thing, right? You can spend more time with the Death Note and watching the police this way." Light couldn't reply of course, but in his mind he disagreed. After all, he knows she's bad at remembering time and he would have an alias every time he's with her, so he could lie to get out.

For example, let's say he was accused of somehow killing 5 people one day between 5-6pm. But at 3-5pm, he was with Y/N. Because she can't remember time very good at all, he could easily say he was with her while the killings were happening, and with her agreeing because she doesn't know any better. Y/N can also easily be turned into an abused puppy in his eyes; a loyal punching bag who he can manipulate for certain circumstances.

"While your doing that, I'm going to use the restroom," Light excused himself as he stood up from the table and walked away. He walked over and up the stairs, down the hall and to a certain person's room. Once he got to the door, he softly knocked on it. "May I come it?"

Y/N on the other side jumped from the sudden arrival. "Just a second!" She called out as she took her hair out of the bun and fixed it, because let's face the fact that a lot of us are very insecure about our looks. She quickly fixed her shirt because calling out, "come in!" A mere moment later and her door was open to reveal a tall brunette.

"You look lovely today," he complimented as he stepped inside her room and shut the door behind him. Y/N blushed a little bit.

"Thanks, heh. Um...you look nice too," she replied nervously.

"Don't be nervous with me please. You know I'm not mad at you. Actually, I came in here to formally apologize," he spoke as he walked up closer and bowed in respect. "The least I could have done was call you about her earlier that day, or told you I was seeing someone way ahead of that. It was foolish of me not to and led to both of our hears being hurt. I'm sorry." Y/N frowned as she comprehended what he just said then sighed. She walked up to him and grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him up.

"You're face is so squishy, sir," she said as Light stood up all the way, however Y/N didn't go of him. "It's weird someone so very collected and serious became friends with someone as dimbas a bag of rocks. I mean, have a told you about how my IQ test came back negative? Because it did."

Light chuckled as her comment, playing with a strand of her hair. "Did this really happen? You're so weird sometimes, haha." Y/N giggled softly before frowning.

"Hey, y'know, I really wasn't mad. The first week we stopped talking was so painful but I knew I had to make it up to you somehow. Yet even though I really wanted to just call you and have a drink of coffee with a long conversation full of pleasant topics and laughs, I was so scared. It's embarrassing," she confessed, keeping her head low.

Pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, Light smiled down at her. "Then I hope today takes all that weight off your shoulders."

"It did, heh heh," Y/N smiled as she looked him in the eyes. With how close they are, the eye contact, and the smiles, they seem almost suggestive towards one another. Or at least in the eyes of none other than-

"Ew!" Yelled B/N from the doorway. He must have opened the door while they were distracted. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows together and glared at her brother whereas Light just smiled. "All I wanted was help, not this teenage romance scene. I finished all my problems by the way, ugh," B/N spoke, sounding dead.

"I'll be down there in a moment," Light responded as B/N walked away. He turned towards Y/N again; "well, it was nice seeing you. Your dad is paying me for this so I should probably get back to work." Y/N nodded as she hugged him softly.

"Alright. Make sure you let me know when your done or free," she responded before she pulled away from the hug.

"Will do," Light replied as he pat her head. "I'll see you later." Light waved goodbye as he walked out of her room and shut the door behind him.

Y/N took a deep breath to ease her nerves. That's it, she thought. This man is about to be my husband-

#anime #shounen #wattpad #reader insert #light yagami x you #light yagami x reader #light yagami x y/n #light x reader #light x you #light x y/n #light x fem reader #death note #death note x reader

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oveliagirlhaditright · 3 years

Text

Lie to Me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33943738

Summary: In an AU where L wins the Kira case and Light goes to prison instead of being executed, L gets it into his head that Light should become an executor: because that would see his need for justice and killing done.

Author’s Note: This is actually the first idea I had and first thing I started writing after I finished watching Death Note.I wasn’t sure I was comfortable sharing it with you guys. But I guess I am:)

L’s PoV

L was heading towards… a certain place after the Kira case had been closed for quite some time.

And why he was heading there, he wasn’t entirely sure. It wasn’t as if he owed Yagami Light anything…

Perhaps, L thought, as he now walked into the prison that housed the mass murderer, he was doing this because he wanted to believe if he ever got locked up, someone with his mind would be given a chance like this… or something much better than this idea.

But whatever the reason was, L was walking towards Light’s cell now, to offer him a deal: a deal that had been playing in the back of L’s mind for a long time, even while he’d also been trying to come up with any and all evidence to incarcerate Light.

Finally—after all sunlight faded away and the last seagull silenced itself—L was being led through the massive metal door that would lead him to Light. And L would be facing him by himself. Something that Watari and everyone at Wammy’s House had loudly protested, but L knew that to even get a twenty-seven percent chance that Light would listen to any of this, he would have to go it alone.

L had reassured everyone, of course, that Yagami Light wasn’t one for killing people without his favorite magical notebook. And he knew that he’d be watched on any and all available monitors like a hawk, which was fine.

The Wammy’s boys (Near, Mello, and Matt—perhaps Matt and Mello in particular) had tried to convince L to bring a bomb in with him—one that Light wouldn’t be able to activate on L quickly enough, if he got it away from him, because it was made out of new technologies that Light hadn’t had the benefit of seeing—that he could throw at Light if the man pulled a fast one on him, and then make a run for the door.

But as L thought that there was a thirty-seven percent chance that that would actually cause more harm for him than good, he’d decided to use his intellect here as he always did… and pray to any god that might exist that Light was off his game after these few years (even though that would make this incredibly boring).

L pushed the door open, and was met with the sight of a lot of orange, brown, and grays: dull, fall colors, that had lost any and all shine. Honestly, what had he even been expecting? Perhaps this had been a mistake…

“Well, if I haven’t earned a visit from the one and only Ryuzaki,” Light sang, looking up from the Bible he’d been reading, the moment L crossed over the threshold. And it didn’t escape L’s notice that Light didn’t call him “L”, which clearly meant that he wasn’t seeing this as a victory against him—as it clearly wasn’t that—but it also meant that Light was beyond bitter here. L wondered how that would make the rest of their interaction play out, as he crossed the room and sat in the table across from Light. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you here to finally tell me how good orange looks on me?” In some ways, he was perceptive as always, L supposed.

“While I would, perhaps, love to rub it in your face again, that I beat you—because yours surely was the best case that I have yet won,” and here L locked eyes with Light to remind him that he had won, and it would be foolish to think that he could try and turn the tables right now, “once of doing that was more than enough. Not everyone is as narcissistic as you are, Light. No… I’m here for… sympathetic reasons, oddly enough. And you don’t have to believe me about that, but it is the truth.” And it was clear Light must not have believed it for a second, because he’d scooched his chair back from L’s furiously, the moment the words had left his lips.

He’d moved the seat back, but hadn’t gone to stand up. And that was smart on his part—Light had always been so smart—because if he had, L had no doubt that, quite ironically, all sorts of police and guardsmen would be spilling in this very moment to be giving Light a lethal injection.

So, it seemed that even in prison—where so much was ripped away from one—of course, Yagami Light had found a way to hold onto his careful reactions. This was very good.

L could respect that.

“I don’t believe you!” Light hissed, as some of the old fire returned to the young man. And his pupils dilated, and there was certainly a maniac look to them, but no red.

And L was taken aback to find that he somehow missed the red.

“All you ever wanted was to solve the Kira case more than anything else! It was just another trophy to add to your case! The most impressive one of all, in fact! And you didn’t care who you had to throw under the bus to get there, or if you had to act like Kira himself to achieve your goals. So, why would you start caring now? Odds say that you don’t.”

L could have said something to that, like, “How funny it is, that you now start talking about odds, when I always thought that that was my forte,” he knew. But the truth was… he didn’t have the time for their game, even though it had once been his favorite one of all.

A new technology had just been unveiled that could recognize faces with seventy-five percent accuracy one-hundred thousand miles away. And L just knew that it was at once going to be nuclear warfare, if he didn’t get out there and explain why seventy-five percent still wasn’t accurate enough and would leave too many innocent civilians murdered in cold blood and destitute. So, if Light wasn’t going to be interested in the deal L had to offer him here, he really couldn’t care less.

As it was, he was missing tea time right now, anyway, and he quite liked tea time.

Examining his nails in a very bored manner, L continued on with, “Like I said, Yagami Light, you don’t have to believe me. But I have an idea… since we both once loved our game with each other so much, how about we play another one together right now? Give me one good reason as to why I should give you an opportunity, and shouldn’t leave you to rot her for eternity, like you so rightly deserve?”

Light seemed to withdraw into himself at that… and he looked so very small. And as he did, L found that maybe he was finally truly feeling the sympathy he’d told Light that he had from the onset here.

It must not have been easy, L imagined, dealing with the world’s greatest ice queen in the world, who lived behind such an impenetrable fortress.

Nor must it have been easy to try and look like you had something to gamble with, when everything had been taken away from you.

The gears were clearly turning in Yagami Light’s head now. And L wondered if when they were done spinning, if he would actually hear some sort of fantastical truth from the man, or another lie. Surely the latter, since if there was one thing Yagami Light didn’t do, it was tell the truth.

Finally, Light looked up at L with sorrowful eyes. And L imagined that everyone who was watching this scene unfold with him right now, was also waiting with bated breath to see what the serial killer would have to say.

“Did you know my father once tried to kill my cat, L?” Light asked.

And there was his name, “L”, again. So, Light clearly must have thought he could win this one. And L thought he must have been lying, since he was speaking of something so traumatic far too matter-of-factly right now.

But, then again… Light was calling Soichiro “father” as opposed to “dad” for once. And sometimes trauma victims did speak matter-of-factly to try and keep their emotions at bay.

Hmm… L tried not to give anything away here, but Light definitely have L wondering if he’d missed something important in the Kira investigation. And L didn’t know if that was good or not. He had asked for this—and perhaps had even wanted a battle he had chosen, as opposed to the one he now had to partake in for necessity—but was it really a good idea to have a battle of wills with Yagami Light again?

No matter what he thought, L knew the best thing was to try and play it all off, of course. “No, I was not aware of that, Kira. It didn’t come up in anything I researched about you in our time together. If this is true, I assume your family kept it under wraps to protect your father’s reputation? Do tell me about it.”

“Yep. That’s exactly it,” Light allowed, and he was looking at his forearms that rested on the table now, as if he was lost in thought. Lost in his memories, maybe more accurately. So, perhaps, there was some truth to all of this, after all.

L truly hadn’t come here expecting to feel anything for Yagami Light today, but he found he was doing exactly that, and he hated himself for it.

He would not again be the man on a rooftop, looking at who he believed to be his future killer with regret, as he heard bells ring in the distance. He would not.

“It was late one night… Dad was tired. And maybe a little drunk… This was the only cat we ever had, by the way. An orange furball that Sayu had begged that Mom and Father let us have. Eventually, they relented. Anything, for cute Sayu, of course. And I felt the same way. But… it had stomach problems, and hairballs all the time. Mom cleaned it up as best she could. I helped, too. But Father hated this about the thing.

“One night… I guess the stress of everything became too much for him, and he was chasing Aki, the cat, through the house, saying he was going to kill her, and was throwing coat-hangers at her… until Sayu and I intervened. But mainly it was me. I don’t know if it would have gone further than the coat-hangers, if Father’s two little kids hadn’t tried to stop him then, but…

“Anyway, Dad never had a psychotic break like that ever again, so we all just dropped it...”

The way Light had told the story… it mostly seemed true to L. And he hated that after once having said that there was never a time that Light told the truth, that he would now ven entertain that notion.

He also despised that he now thought it made some sense, then, that Yagami Light would go serial killer, since he’d had the trauma of seeing his father attack an animal… and seeing as how he couldn’t really get any help, as mental illness was so stigmatized in Japan.

But Light did not need to know any of these things from L, of course. All he needed to know was that he had passed the test.

And for Yagami Light, who had only ever wanted to get the best grades and be society’s greatest being—and to be a “god”—surely that would be enough.

“Light… what if we put your desire for justice—and death, to an extent—to practical use? What if you became an executor, instead of wasting away here?”

And the moment the words had left his mouth, L wished he could take them back. Because certainly Kira would object that he wasn’t a killer and never had been.

But instead, Light just dabbed at his eyes some—had he started crying?—and shook his head as if he were truly lost, “…If you think that’s the best thing for me to do… I guess I’ll do it. Clearly, I don’t know what’s right, and you’re wiser than I could ever be. So, when do I start?”

L meant to fill Light in then, that it wouldn’t be right away.

No. Some trust would have to be built first, before they let Kira anywhere near lethal ingredients or people he would put in the electric chair, of course.

But L couldn’t find the words.

He was, one, feeling too much guilt, somehow, by what had just transpired….

And two, finding himself almost aroused at the idea of Light wielding such power, but using it rightly this time.

“Watari will get you the information. He’ll be in touch.”

And L headed back through the large metal door, without another look towards Yagami Light.

He had once thought it held Light’s fate… but he was starting to realize that perhaps it held his own, too.

And if he was intelligent, he would never see the man again.

But had he ever truly been intelligent?

L had to ponder that now, when he knew without a shadow of a doubt… he would be seeing Kira again.

#death note #lawlight #fanfiction #au #alternate universe #mine #my work #my writing #shanna writes

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lovelylogans · 3 years

Text

the danes family christmas

or: the danes-sanders-prince-tamura-cabrera-key-bowes christmas. but danes family christmas flows a bit easier, doesn’t it?

part of the wyliwf verse.

warnings: food mentions, mentions of divorce, mentions of sickness, alcohol consumption, please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairings: patton/virgil, logan/roman

word count: 5,876

notes: hi! this is just a quick little fic. happy christmas, a belated happy hanukkah, and a happy early kwanzaa! if you don’t celebrate any of those, then happy friday! this is essentially a “where are they now” snapshot of the danes family, who were all introduced in last year’s christmas fic. i hope you enjoy!

⁂

it starts when virgil hangs up the phone at the diner—the landline against the wall right by the entry to the kitchen, not his cellphone—looking strangely happy. and, considering there were only ever two kinds of phone calls that phone received, one of which being business calls—

“mom or dad?” patton asks, as he sits at the counter.

“my mom,” virgil says. “freddie finally got the flights finalized, they’re coming for christmas.”

patton claps in excitement. “that’s great!”

“so that’s everyone,” virgil says brightly. “all five of us, plus spouses and partners and kids, ‘cept—”

and then he stops himself, tilts his head, and asks, “hey, what are your christmas plans?”

⁂

and so it begins—patton negotiates them out of attending any sanders’ christmas celebrations, in exchange promising to bring himself and logan and the new beaus (as his mother had called them) to a cocktail get-together on new year’s eve.

and then virgil had caught on to the fact them all leaving would leave roman and isadora as the only ones in their little cobbled-together family in sideshire for christmas, and freddie had, too, and immediately gotten on the phone to beg isadora to come along, so that meant crafting an elaborate plan for a road trip on christmas after the matinee christmas morning performance of the nutcracker, which is where they are now: all five of them in virgil’s car, suitcases packed away in the trunk, on their way down to the elder danes’ family home.

oh, and in the middle of all these preparations, not one but two romantic unions were formed, so. it’s been a bit of a busy couple of months.

“okay,” roman says, from where he’s stuffed in the middle seat between logan and his mom, virgil driving and patton attempting to play at navigator, “run me through the entire family tree again, it’s been a minute since i’ve seen everyone.”

so logan opens his phone, scrolls for a little bit, then clicks on a photo they must have taken the last time they were all together in a big group, and zooms in before he hands the phone over to roman to hold. roman’s mom peers over his shoulder.

“so, we’ll start with the danes’,” logan says, and taps each of their faces as he goes—”meredith, mark, wyatt, esther, silas, winifred, and of course, virgil.”

“right.”

he then proceeds to tap the woman and man flanking wyatt. “adam bowes and alexandria cabrera, but she goes by lexa—”

isadora tilts her head at lexa. “i remember her. isn’t she colombian?”

“her parents immigrated from ecuador,” virgil corrects, “but she studied abroad for a bit in colombia, so you’re probably remembering that.”

“—they’re wyatt’s partners,” logan continues, and points to the children in front of them. “nicola’s oldest, she’s fourteen. then there’s wesley, who goes by wes, he’s twelve. is their dad going to be there?” he asks virgil.

“no, he’s off with his girlfriend,” virgil says, and scowls a little. patton thinks he's clearly about to say good riddance—he isn’t particularly a fan of lexa’s first husband. none of the adults are, really, but none of them ever breathed a word about it in front of the kids.

“all right, so i don’t have to find a picture of him,” logan says. “then there’s elizabeth who goes by ellie, eight, and abigail who goes by abby, five.”

roman mumbles names under his breath, tapping each of their photos, before he adjusts the picture. “right. so, essie.”

“you know annabelle, her wife,” logan says, pointing to the black woman with her arm slung over essie’s shoulders. “they were foster parents for a time, so they adopted michael who goes by mike or mikey, he’s twelve, and his sister sophia. she’s seven. and they also adopted theodore who goes by teddy, he’s eight—”

“—nine,” virgil corrects, “his birthday was last month—”

“right, he’s nine, they adopted him three years ago.”

more repetition of names to himself, and then roman adjusts the photo.

“silas,” he prompts.

“his wife, moira,” logan says, pointing to the redhead beside him. “and the twins, emma and devon, they’re ten.”

“they just had a baby in august, too,” virgil says. “meredith junior, but they’re calling her red, for now, so that no one confuses her and my mom. you can guess why, it’s pretty obvious she’s taking after moira already. it’ll be easy to spot her, she’s the only baby.”

“and freddie,” isadora says, craning her neck to look at the photo. “how long has it been since she’s come back for christmas?”

“at least a couple years just for christmas, but she’s visited a couple times,” virgil says. “still, it’ll be nice to see her and ryu and the kids.”

“akira who goes by kira, and nikko,” logan provides for roman. “they’re twins, age six. and sayuri, but she goes by lily sometimes—”

“how’d that happen?” roman says, looking to virgil for help.

“sayuri means ‘lily,’” virgil says. “‘little lily,’ i think, but i can’t remember the exact translation. she’s three.”

“and—where do they live?” roman says.

“tokyo,” patton says, twisting to look at virgil. “they moved last year, didn’t they?”

“that’s right,” virgil confirms. “they lived in kyoto for a while, but freddie got a pretty good job offer, so. tokyo it is.”

“and then there’s us,” logan says. “i assume you don’t need a photo, name, or age breakdown for any of us.”

roman snorts, and says, “no, i guess i not.” he blows out a breath, before he scrolls back over, and says, “right, okay. remind me what everyone’s jobs are?”

and so the rest of the car ride passes, recalling the last times they’ve all seen various members of the danes family and passing on stories of visits past.

it’s about to be a marathon of a christmas.

⁂

by the time they’re pulling up to the danes’ house—windows down, because the elder danes’ live in a much warmer state and everyone seemed to have a simultaneous, unspoken agreement on the need to thaw from the brutally cold and snowy winter they’d been having so far—virgil’s leg is bouncing in excitement, and patton reaches across to put a hand on virgil’s, smiling at him.

“are we the last ones getting here?” he asks.

virgil nods his head. “miraculously, even wyatt and adam’s weird hours have lucked out, but adam’s exact words were don’t hold your breath—”

“of course, of course,” patton murmurs, because he probably should have guessed the orthopedic surgeon and the spinal surgeon would have some funky hours.

“—but i think everyone should be here? at least i didn’t hear that they got delayed, so.”

“please tell me we’re almost there,” roman groans.

“we’ll get there when we get there!” virgil and patton say simultaneously, and they both laugh at each other quoting the incredibles as roman groans louder.

patton’s glad to have the brief distraction of a pixar reference; as they’ve gotten nearer and nearer to the danes’ house, he’s felt a knot in his stomach grow bigger and bigger.

he’s been spending holidays with the danes’ since logan was born, usually seeing at least one of them once a year—christmases, easters, family get togethers, he and logan have tagged along for years and years.

he has a feeling that virgil and his parents would argue with the phrasing of tagged along, but he can’t help it—even if he knows he’s uncle patton to all the kids, and he knows logan refers to all the various danes progeny as his cousins, and he knows he and logan have long since received the food-based nicknames everyone in the family receives upon being born in and growing up in the family and at marriage, but—

well. he can’t help it, sometimes.

but now, he isn’t just tagging along. he’s the latest romantic partner in the family. he has started dating their youngest son, their baby brother, their beloved bachelor uncle.

he can’t help but wonder if it’ll be like an entirely new dynamic. because he’s seen the way the latest romantic partners are introduced—he’s long since gotten used to the danes’ fond squabbling with each other, but it turns into a whole new level of teasing when they bring along a date.

“we are,” logan says, and points. “there it is.”

virgil examines the number of cars—he probably should have expected the full driveway—and pulls over to park on the side of the road, roman immediately demanding that either logan or his mother get out of the car right now or else he will crawl over them—

virgil and patton’s eyes meet, and patton smiles at him before they both turn to open their own car doors, roman getting out of the car hot on logan’s heels.

and then the danes’ front door opens, light spilling onto the lawn, and children barrel out of the house, almost all of them yelling at the top of their lungs, and virgil says “oof!” as he’s plowed into by three little girls, clinging at his legs, and virgil immediately swings the nearest up into his arms.

“oh, hello, everyone!” virgil says, beaming, looking years younger as ellie clings to his neck, and patton grins at him even as abby notices he has a free set of arms and immediately demands a hug, and patton can’t help but oblige, lifting her up onto his hip, distantly pleased that he still can carry her, because goodness, she’s gotten so tall!

“girls!” someone at the door calls, and patton looks up at lexa in the doorway with a grin. “let your uncles get inside before you tackle them, please!”

“aw, mom!” ellie grumbles, even as virgil’s setting her down and grinning apologetically at lexa, a hand resting on sophia’s hair.

“sorry, lex!” virgil calls, and pats ellie on the shoulder, murmuring something quietly to ellie and sophia ear that makes them both grin, brown eyes sparkling; patton follows his lead, setting abby down.

“uncle patty—” she begins to whine.

“i know, i know,” he says, crouching down to tug lightly at her braided dirty blonde hair, to make her giggle. “but, tell you what. if you listen to your mom, how about you and me sneak some cookies from your grandma, huh?”

abby brightens, and immediately rushes off, right on her sister’s and cousin’s heels.

“do you need any help?” adam says, his head popping out from behind lexa.

“no, we’re all right, thanks!” roman calls, isadora already shutting the trunk, all of their bags unloaded and just waiting to be carried inside—patton doubles back for his, but virgil’s already swinging his bag over his shoulder before patton can do anything about it.

“i could—” patton begins, but virgil leans down and kisses him before he can say anything about it. virgil grins even wider when patton just blinks at him, half-forgetting what he was saying.

“i got it,” virgil says reassuringly, “honestly, we’re gonna need someone to open the door, so,” and patton huffs.

“fine,” he grumbles, pretending to be put out, as the part of him that was raised with things like gentlemen should open the door for you, and carry things that are heavy, and care for you in general is sending butterflies fluttering in his tummy. because, one, virgil is being a gentleman, but also, patton has an opportunity to be a gentleman.

the things that give him gender euphoria are so weird, honestly.

but patton trots ahead and opens the door for virgil (and his son, and isadora, and roman) and is nearly bowled over by a wave of noise.

the sound of about twenty-four people all calling hello to their brother slash in-law and his weird little accrued pool of family all calling their hellos back tends to do that, patton guesses.

but once everyone’s funneled their way through the door, patton tries to close it; before he’s even fully shut the door behind them, though, abby’s clinging to his leg, grinning up at him.

“cookies now?” she asks.

patton tousles her hair. “gotta set up our alibi, squirt. we’re doing this secretly. it’s a mission.”

abby’s eyes brighten. “like spies?”

“exactly like spies,” patton says, in a hushed tone as if he’s being very quiet and secretive, as if he isn’t fully aware that her mother is keeping an eye on them and folding her lip under her teeth to keep from laughing, even as she’s hugging virgil hello.

abby scuttles off, though, as one of her other parents approaches to give patton a friendly, one-armed hug, seeming to fear the potential of revealing their secret mission.

“hey, patton,” adam says easily. “good to see you’re recovered from the pneumonia, congrats on romancing virgil,” patton blinks rapidly and attempts to come up with a response to that, but adam’s already continuing, “and try to keep her from taking too many, yeah? she’s already been spoiled rotten by her gramps today.”

“can do,” patton says, and so begins the shuffle around the room of saying hello to everyone; the kids are all in one section, already, seemingly preoccupied by various board games, but nicola’s unfolded herself from the group to go up to logan already; the pair of them are closest in age, and they’re also quite the pair of brainiacs, so they’ve been close ever since lexa and the kids came to the first family gathering years ago.

“i despise operator algebra,” she’s telling him.

“well, good thing you aren’t planning on going into quantum field theory, then,” logan responds, and patton loses the plot of that conversation because he’s nearly bumped off his feet.

“sorry!” freddie squeaks, red high in her pale cheeks and a glass of meredith’s near-lethal spiked eggnog in her hand; he suspects it to be the culprit for any uncharacteristic clumsiness and he pulls her into a hug even as he’s laughing out forgiveness.

“heard about you and virgil,” freddie says, “finally.”

“oh—um,” patton stammers, trying his hardest not to blush.

“thrilled to have you, really,” freddie says, bumping into him again, this time purposefully. “and, hey! heard you got sick, you’re all better now, right?”

“right,” he says, then, curiously, “um, how was the trip?”

“have you ever had to handle six-year-old twins on a trans-pacific trip?” she says, and patton winces in sympathy; as polite as the twins are, being raised with the japanese code of etiquette, they are still freddie’s kids, and therefore also incredibly rambunctious.

“my condolences,” patton tells her, then, to her husband who’s hovering silently over her shoulder, he attempts to get his way through saying long time no see in japanese to ryu, who’s been trying to teach them all conversational bits of japanese for years (mostly because they’d all insisted; they did the same to lexa, too. meredith’s parents had learned to greet mark’s family in their native italian, so it had become something of a family tradition to learn at least a little of the language of their spouse.)

“ohisashiburi desu,” ryu enunciates for him, and patton groans.

“i thought i had it this time!”

“you were close,” ryu says, which patton thinks is mostly out of politeness, but he’ll accept it anyways. “sayuri, say hello!”

he glances down, then, in time to notice a three-year-old clinging to ryu’s pantleg, just barely peeking out from behind him, the most visible thing being her near-black eyes, shiny and wide.

sayuri ducks out from behind ryu to bow to patton.

“and hello to you too!” patton says, keeping his voice as soft and friendly as he can.

sayuri looks up at ryu, who nods in approval, murmuring something to her in japanese, and she scampers back behind him, clinging once again to his pant leg.

“sorry,” freddie says, not sounding very sorry at all. “lily’s the shy one.”

“oh, it’s all right,” patton says. “it must have been a big day for her, traveling and seeing everyone again and all.”

“that it is,” freddie says, then, to ryu, “d’you think she needs a nap?”

patton takes that as his cue to resume greeting everyone else; he ducks briefly into the kitchen (where abby is, very unsubtly, eyeing the platter of cookies on the counter) and can’t help but coo at the sight that greets him.

“aw, hello,” he murmurs.

moira, her red hair pulled back into a ponytail and a smidge frizzy, looking haggard in a way that only parents to babies ever seem to look, smiles up at him. “hi, patton.”

“hi, patton,” silas echoes awkwardly, from where he’s washing dishes at the sink.

“hi, silas, hi moira,” he says; usually, he’d be all caught up in the amount of fondness he has for moira, distinctly unbalanced in comparison to his relationship with silas, which is still a touch thorny, even after all this time, but, well. there’s a new member of the family to introduce himself to.

“this must be meredith junior!”

meredith junior is preoccupied with drinking from a bottle, and does not respond to him, her eyes half-lidded and sleepy.

“that she is,” moira says proudly.

“oh, she’s beautiful,” patton says warmly, looking at her and feeling all warm and happy because Baby Feelings, and it reminds him of logan when he was at that age; meredith junior (red, he remembers virgil saying) is also a small baby, like logan was, her hair downy and just as red as her mother’s.

moira smiles at her. “yeah, she is. you wanna hold her later?”

“later,” patton repeats, putting up his hands. “i know how important feeding time is. i was just ducking in to say hi, get a drink,” he directs a wink at abby, who attempts to wink back at him, but she hasn’t really gotten the hang of that yet and so she just blinks at him with extra emphasis.

“eggnog’s in the fridge,” silas mutters. “solo cups should have a sharpie next to it, for names.”

“thanks, silas,” patton says, and ducks around him; he ends up pouring himself a bit of cranberry punch, instead, and obligingly writes PATTON on his cup in large letters. then, with a level of slightly overexaggerated sneakiness that goes unnoticed by moira, preoccupied with the baby, and silas, preoccupied with the dishes, patton snatches a stack of ginger snaps, which are just as good now as they were sixteen years ago. abby jumps up and down, pressing her hands over her mouth to keep from making any noise.

“well, i’m out of your hair.”

“we’re talking later!” moira calls after him, “i’m thrilled, i want to hear all about you and virgil!”

patton tries his very hardest not to blush, and ducks out of the kitchen instead. he splits the cookies in half, handing the other half to abby.

“thanks, uncle patty!”

“you’re welcome,” patton says. “hey, go give one to your sister, okay?”

“okay!” she says, and speeds off across the room. patton spies her handing a cookie to ellie and briefly tugging at nicola’s jeans to get her attention, giving her one too, and patton smiles after her, before he turns to scan the rest of the room for people he hasn’t said hi to yet.

he is immediately face-to-face with essie and annabelle, who beam at him in unison.

“patton!”

“annabelle, essie!” patton says, hugging the pair of them. “it’s great to see you!”

“great to see you too!” essie says. “we’ll have to get together sometime soon, you and virgil and us—”

“—we can do a double-date!” annabelle adds excitedly.

“—we can come to you, or you can catch the train down to us,” essie continues.

“oh—” patton says, a little flustered. “um—good! that’s good! that sounds—”

“good?” annabelle says, grinning, clearly very close to laughing at him.

looking for something in the room to change the subject, he glances around and notices, for the first time, two missing members of the family.

“where’s mark and meredith?”

“oh, mom ran out to the corner store for something, i think dad’s on the porch showing off the grill he got for the neighbors,” essie says dismissively, before she reaches over to squeeze his arm. “seriously. so thrilled for the pair of you, we have to do dinner soon.”

“sounds good,” patton says honestly, because it does; getting together with the pair of them, plus mikey, teddy, and sophia, sounds really good.

“i’m gonna go say hi to the kids,” he adds.

“okay!” essie says.

“we’ll catch up later,” annabelle says. it only sounds a little bit like a threat.

he doesn’t even really need to step too far to encounter the kids corner.

“hi, kids!” he says.

“hi, uncle patton,” the kids all drone, not tearing their eyes away; it seems the other board games have fallen to the wayside, the lot of them watching what seems to be the main event with bated breath.

“hello, patton,” wyatt echoes serenely, a pair of tweezers in hand as he observes the operation board. “i congratulate your immune system on its strength in overcoming the pneumococcal pneumonia, and i congratulate you on entering courtship with my brother.”

patton fails, this time, in trying not to blush, which probably wouldn’t be seen by any of the kids, anyways—“c’mon, uncle wyatt!” teddy urges from the sidelines—and wyatt flawlessly maneuvers the tweezers, and very slowly, very carefully, removes the wishbone without bumping any of the walls, and half the kids groan.

“i should have known better than to start this,” wes mutters under his breath, accepting the tweezers from his stepfather. “hi, uncle patton.”

“hiya, wes,” patton says, amused; at least once a year, someone challenged either of the surgeons in the family to a game of operation, and it always ended up with a crowd gathered around like this. “doing okay so far?”

“i’ve buzzed twice,” wes sighs, and squints at the card. “oh, great. i’ve got the funny bone. okay—”

he readjusts his grip, and patton takes a few steps back, so as to not distract him any more than he needs to be distracted, taking a second to look in on nicola and logan—who are deep into conversation about something called hermitian adjoint with excited expressions on their faces, and roman looks as confused as patton feels—before someone taps him on the shoulder.

“doing okay?”

patton turns to smile up at virgil.

“doing fine,” he promises, and sets his cup down on the nearest surface so he can reach out to correct virgil’s collar. “have you said hi to everyone?”

“yeah, just about,” virgil says, then, “um, they haven’t said anything to you about—?”

“oh, y’know,” patton says with a jerk of his head. “moira says she’s thrilled, essie wants to get all together for dinner, freddie said finally, wyatt congratulated the strength of my immune system and my success in courting you, et cetera, et cetera.”

virgil snorts, ducking his head and rubbing sheepishly at the nape of his neck. “guess i probably should’ve warned you ‘bout that, huh?”

“nah, i knew it’d probably happen,” he teases. “you’re forgetting i was at dinner when freddie brought the news of her elopement and the brand-new husband none of us had ever heard of before.”

“still can’t believe she did that,” virgil says with a disbelieving shake of his head.

patton laughs a little, too, before he says, “i was expecting it a little, i guess—i mean, you’ve got four older siblings, i was a little nervous there’d probably be a bit of hazing to go through, now that i’m a boyfriend.”

“you didn’t mention that,” virgil says with a frown. “i can tell them to lay off, if you—”

patton waves him off, even as he still feels the tight knot in his stomach.

“it’s okay,” he says, and it is okay, it’s just nerve-wracking, “i’ve gotten through the first of it, it’s okay. just, y’know. i’m a little nervous to talk to your parents, i guess.”

“they love you,” virgil says immediately. “they’re delighted about this, i promise, they told me so.”

“virge?”

“yeah?” he asks, a protective expression still on his face. patton takes both his hands in his own, looking up at him with a very serious expression on his face.

“remember your siblings teasing me when you have to sit through an emily-and-richard dinner,” he says, “and then we can say we’re nearly even.”

virgil’s lip quirks up. “nearly?”

“well,” patton says, “you’re probably gonna have to go to a few friday night dinners, so i’m definitely gonna owe you for that more than you owe me for this.”

virgil grimaces at the mention of friday night dinners looming in his future like the ghost of christmas yet to come.

“think happy thoughts?” patton offers, with an apologetic grin on his face.

“what thought is happy enough to get me through that?”

patton pretends to think about it, tilting his head back and forth, before he offers in a faux-innocent tone, “egging their car on easter?”

a slightly goofy grin breaks out on virgil’s face, and patton laughs at the sight of it.

“well, if i must,” virgil says. “might even have to refresh that memory with a repeat performance.”

“don’t you dare,” patton says, in a tone entirely too sappy for what he’s saying.

“or what?” virgil says, grinning down at him, and he’s so stinkin’ cute that patton can’t help but rise onto his tippy toes to kiss the grin right off his face.

their lips barely brush before the hollering starts—there’s a wolf-whistle in there somewhere, but mostly things along the line of “EW, uncle VIRGIL, kissing is GROSS,” and “hey, hey, hands off my baby brother!”—and patton breaks away from virgil with a nervous giggle, blushing, fully aware that if most of the people in the room weren’t looking at him before, they certainly were now. patton finds himself unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“oh, c’mon,” freddie says, grinning, sayuri in her arms and looking quite close to nodding off to sleep, “it’s about time, now that they’re dating.”

“finally,” essie adds, not quite under her breath, then—

“wait.”

patton turns, then, to where the kids have gathered in the corner; mikey, essie and annabelle’s oldest son, is staring at them with large brown eyes.

“wait,” mikey repeats, “what do you mean, now they’re dating?”

“you weren’t dating before?” his brother teddy says, sounding equal parts confused and indignant.

“no, we weren’t dating before,” virgil says. “but we—we are. now. so.”

teddy still looks puzzled.

“well, we loved each other for a very long time,” patton explains, because for as smart as all the kids are, teddy is nine years old, and therefore not quite fully aware of the complexities of adult relationships, “and we told each other that recently. so. now we’re dating, but we’ve loved each other for much longer.”

“well, that’s okay then,” teddy decides, and patton can’t help but snort.

anyone still staring at the pair of them gets distracted by the sound of a door stuck in its lock, before it suddenly bursts open, bringing with it a rush of warm outdoor air and the clunking of a cane hitting the hardwood.

“damn door keeps sticking,” mark grumbles under his breath, looking up and taking a moment to scan the room before his eyes brighten. “virgil! when did you sneak in, bunny?”

meredith pokes her head around his shoulder, eyes bright; she's carrying a shopping bag in one arm that emma and devon, silas' girls, scuttle up and take off her hands, ferrying it to the kitchen for her.

"ten or so minutes ago," virgil says, crossing the room, grinning; unspoken, both patton and logan fall into step behind virgil, approaching the danes family patriarch and matriarch together.

mark is already pulling his youngest son into a hug, squeezing virgil tight, and patton can't help but smile at the way virgil grips his father just as tightly; mark's had a bit of trouble with his health over the past couple years—primarily struggling with his knee, which had been replaced a month before thanksgiving this year—and patton knows it had scared him, at the time, and it made him all the more appreciative of the time he gets to spend with his father.

"good to see you, son," mark says warmly, patting virgil's back roughly a couple times for emphasis.

"snap," meredith says warmly, and patton grins—the ginger snaps he ate his weight in at the first danes christmas celebrations he'd ever attended have become his nickname namesake—before he approaches and pulls her into a hug.

"welcome," meredith says, pulling away, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "and congratulations are in order, aren't they?"

patton flushes, but before she can tease him anymore, mark's eyes land on logan.

"god, look at you!" mark says. "you're tall! how much have you grown? a foot? more? what on earth are you feeding him, virgil?" mark asks, turning to him, and virgil puts his hands up, smirking.

"i think i've grown four and a half inches, since the last time i saw you," logan says, before he steps forward and hugs mark, adding quietly, "it's good to see you, nonno."

patton's smile widens at that. emily and richard have always been grandma and grandpa, to logan, and maria, the previous manager at the inn who had taken in patton and logan, has been nana, but mark and meredith have always been nonno and nonna; grandpa and grandma in italian, where mark's family had emigrated from before mark was born.

"and it's good to see you, jammy," mark says, equally warmly, before he draws back, making eye contact with logan, and not having to tilt his head downwards anymore; they're almost on the same level now. "goodness. it'll take some time to get used to that. hit your growth spurt with a vengeance then, just like your dad—"

and then mark's eyes fall to patton, and patton smiles a little nervously, twisting his fingers together.

"hi, mark."

something in mark's eyes go soft, and he steps forward to hug patton just as tightly as he had hugged virgil and logan, to hold patton just as close, and patton isn't sure why his eyes are suddenly stinging, but they are, and he squeezes them shut and takes in a deep breath as he hugs mark back.

"we're overjoyed," mark says quietly, and draws back to look at patton, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes growing more pronounced with his smile. "oh, patton, we're so thrilled for the pair of you, truly we are. you've always been part of the family, but now—well," he says, and looks between virgil and patton.

"the pair of you, making each other happy," meredith says. "it's everything a mother could want for her boys."

patton struggles to swallow, and he can only smile guilelessly at them both as he waits for the lump in his throat to pass.

"now, we heard about your health scare after thanksgiving," mark says, frowning. "you're too young for such things. you're all better now, aren't you? all fixed up?"

"doctor says i am a-okay," patton manages to croak out.

"wonderful," meredith says, "and no more of any of that."

"you should remain hale and hearty, or else," mark adds, finishing her sentence; they've been married for so long, it's almost like they've become symbiotic.

"or else what?" patton says, achieving something close to his normal tone and not sounding like he's about to cry tears of happiness anymore.

"or else i'll set my wife on you," he says, before he claps logan on the back. "now, i hear that you have brought your boyfriend to meet the family!"

"you've met," logan says, beginning to blush, but he goes to get roman anyways; nicola coos "oooh," after the pair of them with all the teasing in her tone that one would expect from a younger cousin.

roman holds logan's hand as they approach.

"sir, ma'am," roman says respectfully, the picture of a proper young man; isadora looks on approvingly from where she's holed up in a corner with ryu, freddie, and a now-sleeping sayuri.

"this is roman prince, nonna, nonno," logan says, squeezing roman's hand tight and leaning into his side. "i love him very much."

mark's smile goes even softer at that; patton leans his head on virgil's shoulder, his cheeks aching.

"aw, shucks, specs," roman says, grinning at logan, "i love you very much too."

"well," mark says gently. "what grandparent doesn't like to hear that? we are very happy to have you and your mother, roman."

"come and sit," meredith says eagerly. "indulge two old crones in some conversation; i hear you want to take after your mother and go into ballet?"

and so mark, meredith, logan, and roman settle on the couch, logan still clinging to roman's hand and looking the most outwardly fond that patton has ever seen him look. it's enough to have the lump in his throat come roaring back with a vengeance.

virgil touches his shoulder, a silent question—you all right?

patton smiles at him and nods, before someone taps him on the arm, and he looks up.

"spouses club meeting," annabelle says, hooking her arm through his.

"what?" patton says.

"spouses club meeting," lexa repeats.

"i'm—i'm not a," patton says, blushing. he isn't the only one—he sees virgil going red, too. they've been dating for barely a couple weeks, that's very far off from—well—

"i'm not a spouse either, technically," lexa points out, "but that's what we're calling it anyways. virgil, we're stealing your boyfriend."

"do i have a choice in the matter?"

"nope!" lexa says cheerfully. "you, patton sanders, have gossip for us."

"goss—" patton repeats, frowning, before he looks to virgil. "oh—oh! lex, it isn't gossip, really—"

"not gossip, sure," annabelle scoffs. "it's only been ten years, we're getting the story—"

"steal him," virgil says immediately.

"traitor," patton cries out, softly enough so that it doesn't attract the attention of anyone else in the room; he'd gotten enough of that when he'd tried to kiss virgil.

"you aren't automatically immune, you've got siblings to deal with," annabelle tells virgil sweetly, and laughs when virgil pulls a face, suddenly looking younger, like the man in his early twenties that he had been their first christmas all together like this.

and so patton is tugged off into the kitchen, where adam, lexa, annabelle, moira, and ryu all sit, ready to hear the story of how they got together, and patton knows that the rest of their trip will be spent like this—being pulled off into subgroups, whether it be spouses, or kids, or siblings, or other arbitrary combinations that would happen on the fly. patton knows he'll spend the rest of the trip eating his weight in ginger snaps, and coming up with fun activities for the kids, and having a million different conversations with everyone, trying to organize how they'll be able to gather in smaller groups during the new year, and—

—and patton knows he's in for a very chaotic, very merry christmas.

#my post #text #my fic #sanders sides fanfiction #the sideshire files

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justauthoring · 4 years

Text

No Reason To (38/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

A/N: AND HERE WE GO! The final part to season five!

Also, longest chapter to date check.

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 05x17, 05x18, 05x19 & 05x20!

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Y/N.”

“But like... absolutely positive?”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Lydia turns from her vanity, facing you with a roll of her eyes. “Yes,” she emphasizes the word, shaking her head at you in exasperation. “My mom even said she was cool with me coming back, and that’s... well, that’s a feat on it’s own.”

Biting your lower lip, you shrug from where you’re sat on the edge of her bed, wrapping your arms around your knees and tugging them closer against your chest. “I’m just not sure it’s such a good idea,” you mumble, voice a whisper despite the fact that Lydia can hear you perfectly. “With everything that happened and--”

“I’m fine, Y/N.” Lydia sighs, a frown marring her features. You don’t miss the concern that starts to bleed into her expression, her frown deepening as her voice softens. “What’s got you so hesitant?”

Maybe the fact that your powers are out of control. Maybe the fact that, for once, you just want to be a normal teenager girl. Maybe the fact that you absolutely do not want to see Stiles, especially if Lydia is there (as wrong as that sounds). You don’t want the possibility of running into Theo. You don’t want to even really function as a human being anymore because everything’s so messed up and scary.

“I just think we could have a fun girl’s day.”

Lydia lets out a light chuckle; “we’ve missed enough school, Y/N.” Pushing back round to her vanity, she grabs her brush back from where she’d left it, dusting the last little bit of blush to her cheek before pushing herself to her feet. “Besides, Scott still needs our help.”

Well, i’m sure I won’t be much help anyways.

You choose to remain silent. Simply following Lydia round with your eyes as she wanders over to her closet to grab a sweater. As she moves towards you, intent on grabbing her bag that’s resting next to you, you let your gaze fall to your lap, pulling your sleeves over your palms to hide the marks you’ve created there, inhaling deeply.

“Y/N,” Lydia calls softly, causing your eyes to flicker upwards onto her own. You pause at the deep frown marring her lips. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” you assure, forcing a bright smile onto your lips that you pray is believable. “Just tired.”

She leans a little closer, as if inspecting you. “You do look tired,” then, leaning back, she bites her lower lip. “You’re sure that’s it?”

It’s not-- “Yeah, of course.”

Ignoring her still wandering gaze, you push yourself up to your feet, nodding to yourself before smiling over at Lydia. “Let’s go,” you urge, heading for her bedroom door. “We don’t want to be late.”

Lydia rolls her eyes; “two minutes ago you didn’t even want to go!”

“Mason says it’s not just a transmitted frequency. It’s high powered. Like it has to be a really strong signal.”

“And that’s causing it to shift?”

“No, I don’t think it’s just that,” Scott shakes his head, “last night Argent said that it’s getting smaller. What if the Dread Doctors are trying to make the Beast grow faster?”

Furrowing his brows, Stiles speaks up; “with frequencies?”

“No, by shifting.” Scott clarifies, “the frequency is just the trigger. The important part is when it shifts into the werewolf.”

Pausing a moment, your eyes widen; “like Peter,” you offer, meeting your brother’s gaze. He’s eager to nod in response.

“Right,” he smiles briefly, “when Peter was an alpha, he got stronger every full moon. Eventually, the burns healed and he was back to normal.”

“So, the Dread Doctors don’t want to wait for the full moon,” Liam concludes, pulling your eyes on him, nodding lightly.

“They want the Beast to be as strong as possible as fast as possible.”

“Because of Parrish.”

“So,” Lydia speaks up, “if this is happening tonight, what are we going to do?”

“Uh,” Stiles mumbles, raising his hand and pointing his pointer finger, “we got one clue to go on.” Moving to his bag, he opens it, searching through for a moment before pulling out a selection of photos, setting it in the middle of the table. “Those came from the hospital,” he explains, as you and the rest lean forward to get a better look at the photo of a footprint. “Whoever’s lurking inside the Beast is wearing a size ten of indeterminate make.”

Scrunching your face in confusion, you turn to Stiles, “indeterminate?”

“Means it’s a partial print,” he explains, “basically, it was all we were able to get considering all the fire, blood and carnage.”

“How many size ten’s are there?”

“Only one with Parrish’s blood on the sole,” Stiles offers lightly.

“So are we going to try to get the game cancelled?”

Nodding at Liam, you quirk a brow; “good question.”

“No, we’re going to play,” Stiles answers bluntly, “but we’re just going to hope really hard that it doesn’t turn into a blood-soaked massacre.”

Your face is pretty similar to the ones on Lydia and Liam’s.

“Okay, um,” Liam begins, taking a moment to pause, “but, aren’t we kind of missing out on a chance to catch this thing? We don’t have the ‘who’, but we have the ‘where’ and ‘when’.”

Turning to Scott, you shrug; you have to admit, Liam’s not wrong.

Wincing, Scott sighs; “there’s too many people,” he reminds.

“And,” Lydia begins, “we still don’t actually know if it’s going to happen. It just might end up being a regular lacrosse game. It’s possible, right?”

“Oh, it’s absolutely possible,” Stiles nods.

Sighing, you set your head in your hands; “just not very likely.”

“So, we’re still getting the game cancelled,” Liam concludes.

“We’re getting the game cancelled.”

“Mason, you know your part...?”

“Corey and I break into the Devenford Bus and search their shoes.” Mason relays back with ease, nodding his head at Scott.

Malia steps forward in the next second, “I take out the TV vans.”

“And,” Stiles moves to finish off, “right before the whistle, coach forfeits the game.”

“The rest of us are looking for a size ten with a bloody sole.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you swallow thickly; “simple enough.” Well, if all goes to plan. But, you don’t add that part, simply nodding back at Scott when he turns to you with a smile.

“Just out of curiosity,” Malia speaks up, “what if it doesn’t work?”

Well, you can’t really blame her for asking.

“What if we have to go up against this thing? I mean, I hate to bring up bad memories, but Scott’s still healing from what Theo did to him.”

“No.” Kira whispers, pulling all eyes on her, “he’s not.”

Brows furrowing, you turn to your brother in surprise. He simply smiles back at you, “she’s right.” He assures, and then, at the still questioning gazes sent his way, he slowly rises up his jersey, showing off the fact that, indeed, no wound is left.

Touching your own stomach, you purse your lips; “that’s why it didn’t hurt anymore.”

Snorting at your comment, Scott lowers his jersey; “it happened the night we got Lydia out of Eichen,” he explains, eyes drifting across everyone briefly. “I healed. When were all together again,” he puts emphasis at glancing over at you, “when we were a pack.”

Liam smiles; “the Beast doesn’t have a pack.”

“Not like us,” Scott nods, “we can do this, guys. No one dies tonight.”

Your eyes widen when the Coach blows his whistle. However, it’s not to forfeit the game.

Pushing yourself off from where you’re sat, you rush forward, squeezing past people, just barely, and making your way to Scott within record time. You grab onto his arm tightly before he can run off into the field. “Scott,” you whisper lowly, glancing around quickly before meeting his gaze. “What’s going on?”

Shrugging his shoulders helplessly at you, Scott’s eyes widen; “I don’t know.” He swallows thickly, trying to appear calm but you can blatantly see the panic in his eyes. “Just... Just stay here, okay? It’ll be fine.”

He’s pulling himself from your grasp before you can say anything more. Lips parting as he runs off into the field, meeting up with Liam along the way, you let out a huff, spinning in the spot.

“Y/N.”

Blinking at the sound of your name, you just meet Stiles’ gaze as his hand slips around your arm, lightly tugging you with him. You don’t fight his grip, scrambling to catch your footing as he weaves you amongst and through people. The second your eyes catch sight of a police car, you start to follow him more easily, flickering your eyes up to the figure stood by the car.

Stiles’ dad.

Stilinski turns at the sight of his son, nodding at you briefly as Stiles’ hand finally falls from your arm. “Coach won’t forfeit,” Stiles explains plainly, slightly out of breath.

Nodding his head, Noah crosses his arms; “I can see that.”

“What if we call in a bomb threat?”

Turning to Stiles with wide eyes, you shake your head; “that’s not a good idea.”

He turns to you in disbelief; “why not?”

“Stiles,” Noah calls, pulling his son’s eyes on him, “you remember the bomb threat at the airport three weeks ago?”

“Yeah, of course I do. It was all over the news.”

Quirking a brow at Stiles, you wait for him to get it.

To be fair, it only takes him a moment longer.

“I see your point.”

“Woah.”

Blinking, you feel your body tip, your legs turning to jelly beneath you.

Having been behind the bleachers, searching for bloody shoes, size ten as Scott requested, no one sees you. And for that, you’re glad. Your hand instantly rises, gripping onto the edge of the bleacher tightly, your knuckles turning white from the force of which you hold on with. Your vision turns hazy and blurry, and the familiar pang begins in the back of your head.

Just like that, your stomach twists and tightens with fear, knowing that without a doubt, it has to do with your powers.

“Not now,” you growl, teeth clenching together in frustration as you try to fight it. But you can’t. You never have been able to before. And they’re happening quicker, more frequently. Having read Anne’s diary you know why; it’s getting worse. Your powers are getting stronger and because of it, you’re getting weaker. Letting out a small cry of distress, you shake your head. “This is really not a good time.”

You force your gaze upwards, holding yourself up as you try to peer through narrowed eyes and feet for the familiar sight of Scott’s jersey. You’re not sure why. It’s not like he can just leave his game, not realistically at least. But maybe, maybe he can feel what’s happening and maybe he can come and help. Maybe he’ll sense something’s wrong, because you don’t want to do this alone. You’re tired of doing it alone.

But you can’t find him. No where in the crowd of people do you find the familiar number eleven, and your heart sinks with the realization. You don’t know where he is. You don’t remember seeing him having run off, mainly because you’d been so focused trying to find the person.

“Come on, Scott...” You whisper, voice shaky, faint. “Where are you...?”

A muffled cry leaves your lips in the next second, pressing your palm firmly against your lips to avoid alerting attention from anyone around you. It’s then you realize how different this feels. It’s not the familiar ache, and while you’ve always built a sweat when having an episode, it feels different this time. You’re not just clammy but it feels like a pit of fire is growing in your stomach, spreading throughout your entire body and touching every inch of you.

Your skin feels as if it’s burning. From the inside out.

Pushing off of the bleachers, you only make it a few, measly steps before you crash to the floor. Your knees scrape across the grass painful, creating a light burn sensation but amongst everything else, you don’t really feel it at all.

You force your eyes open, eyes lowering to your hands which you hold up towards yourself shakily, There’s an glow of purple around you, in response to your powers, and it’s growing deeper and more pressing by the second. A sob breaks past your lips, your nails digging into your palms in response, touching the already marked injuries and digging deeper. But, the pain help soothes. Helps distract you from everything else.

Helps you distract from the inevitable. From what you can’t stop.

You can’t lose control here. Not here. There’s hundreds of innocent kids around you, your friends are here. Your power had been strong enough to knock down trees and rumble the earth, and that had been when no one else was around. You had no idea what you’d be capable of surrounded by many.

You were meant to be protecting them, and suddenly, with a simple blink of the eye, you’ve turned into the monster threatening their lives.

You feel as if you might break your jaw, clenching so hard, forcing the pit of fire in you to go away; or at least, stay put. You will yourself with every inch of what you’ve got not to lose control. To not become what you’re so afraid of becoming. You try to ignore the deep terror that settles in you, try to ignore the biting panic and focus on controlling yourself.

It has to be possible. It just has to be.

Just because a few things are similar doesn’t mean you’re her!

Scott was right. It didn’t. Your great grandmother was who she was, and you’re who you are.

It isn’t fate. It doesn’t have to be your fate. You... You can change it.

You’re not her, Y/N. You could never be.

Listening to the words, letting them echo in your own mind, your eyes clench shut tightly, your entire body tensing.

You could never hurt someone...

You know what it feels like...

That’s why you never could hurt someone...

But you have. You’ve hurt people.

You hurt Stiles that day when, even for just a second, you doubted him.

You barely even hear the choked sob that breaks past your lips. Your mind feels as if it’s in pieces. There are multiple things being screamed at you all at once and you don’t know what to believe. You don’t know what to listen to. But you just want peace, you want clarity. You want to understand. More then anything.

“Y/N?”

You don’t hear him. You don’t hear the voice. Curled into yourself, you’re too lost in your own mind to hear anything else but the wandering, piercing thoughts.

But you feel the hand. Even if the touch is feathery light, you don’t miss the hand that lightly falls onto your shoulder. It startles you, a cry of surprise leaving your lips as your powers instinctively react. Whoever touched you is sent flying back, a cry of surprise leaving their lips that is luckily not heard over the cheers of the lacrosse game.

And you’re sure you would’ve carried on, sure your powers would’ve continued to have a hold over you if you hadn’t caught sight of the red jersey. If you hadn’t seen the familiar number of twenty-four. If you hadn’t seen, even if just for a second, the warm brown eyes of the boy you loved.

It’s him that snaps you out of it.

Snapping out of it, your powers dim, the fire fleeting as you watch Stiles slam to the ground, his head bouncing off one of the pillars. Your lips part in worry, pushing yourself up to your feet without a second of hesitation, rushing over to him and skidding to your knees in front of him. “Stiles?” You cry, pulling him into your lap gently. You gently tilt his head forward, checking for any blood or anything worse. You let out a breath of relief when there’s just a light bump.

It’ll probably get worse. But... there’s no blood.

“Stiles?” You call softly, eyes flickering to his own as he blinks rapidly, trying to gather his bearing. “Stiles, are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“I’m good, i’m good,” Stiles gently cuts in, blinking up at you. “I’m good.”

You shake your head, shuffling back and keeping your hands firmly on his own as you help him to his feet. He wobbles lightly, but with your help, stays upright, your hands falling on his waist to keep him steady before leaning back enough to meet his gaze. “Are you sure?” You ask, a deep frown marring your lips. “You hit your head really hard--”

“I’m okay,” Stiles whispers, touching the back of his head lightly before setting his hand on your arm, “I promise.”

Letting out a light huff, you pull your hands back to yourself, cheeks warming slightly in response as you glance down at your feet with a deep frown.

“Y/N,” Stiles calls lightly, and your eyes fall shut, knowing he’d seen it. At least, some of it. “Y/N, it’s gotten worse, hasn’t it?”

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head; “I don’t really think now’s a good time to--”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Stiles cuts in sharply, pulling your eyes on him with a blink. “Given I found you convulsing on the ground not a minute ago.”

Pursing your lips, you grab onto your left arm with your right hand, squeezing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you...” You whisper lightly, refusing to meet his eyes. “I really didn’t.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Stiles says without hesitation. “I know that. Y/N--” He stops abruptly, causing you to blink up at him eventually in confusion. Your eyes narrow and brows furrow when his gaze seems stuck on something, something on you, lowered slightly, eyes pointed towards your stomach. But that makes no sense cause--

“Your hands,” Stiles mumbles, voice a echoed whisper.

Eyes flickering lower, your eyes widen when, as if for the first time, you see the bruising, red and infected cuts you’d inflicted on yourself. Your palm is bleeding lightly, from what you assumed just happened, but you hadn’t truly noticed the cuts were getting that bad. The habit had just suddenly picked up and got worse progressively over time; you hadn’t known you’d been doing that much damage.

Moving to hide your hands, you shake your head; “i’m fine--”

But Stiles is quicker. He grabs your wrist before you can pull away, pulling your left hand closer and turning it upwards so the palm is facing him. You watch with a frown as his lips part, his other hand coming to lightly ghost over the cuts, before his eyes flicker up to your own. “Y/N....”

“I’m fine,” you lie, “really... They’re not that bad--”

“Not that bad! Y/N, you’re bleeding!”

“It’s...”

But you don’t have an excuse.

And it seems Stiles isn’t sure how to reply either. For a moment, both of you are silent, eerily so. Stiles hasn’t let go of your hand, and instead, he watches you carefully as you desperately try to avoid his gaze, frowning heavily.

Then, and it happens with a blink of the eye, he takes a step forward, lips parting; “Y/N, i’m--”

But he’s cut off by a piercing screech. His hands leave your own as you both of you press your palms against your ears, trying to block out the high-pitched screech as you glance around for some sort of answer.

Then, suddenly, it just stops.

“What was...--”

“Stiles,” you call, head turned towards the news vans. There’s a faint growl, and your heart sinks with realization at what it is. “It’s here.”

Stiles’ eyes flicker from you to past you, catching sight of the Beast just as it appears. Your lips part in panic when you notice a figure running towards it; the figure unmistakably being Liam.

“Liam!” You cry, rushing forward only for Stiles to grab a hold of you, pulling you back. “Liam, wait!”

“In here, in here!”

Rushing forward, you pull open the door for Hayden and Stiles, glancing over your shoulder briefly just in case as you pull it completely open. Once they’re both through with Liam, you shut the door behind you, locking it just as Stiles calls out; “the desk, the desk!”

A cry from Liam’s lips snaps your gaze round, watching Stiles hastily shove off whatever had been on the desk to make room for the former. You rush forward to help him and Hayden pull Liam on top of the desk, wincing as he lets out another loud cry of pain. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you soothe softly, rounding the desk to get to the other side and get a closer look at the injury. “It’s okay.”

Liam lets out a grunt.

“Liam?” Hayden whispers, voice pitched in panic.

“I’m okay,” he groans, jaw clenching as you and Stiles hastily work to pull back the torn shreds of his jersey due to the Beast. It’s merely because your mother is a nurse and some of the horror stories she’s told you that doesn’t have you gasping and gagging like the other two. And, because you know it probably doesn’t help reassure Liam.

“What?” He pants at them, “what, is it bad?”

“No,” Hayden tries to call in reassurance but of course;

“Very.”

“Stiles,” you hiss, sending him a glare.

Lips parted, he simply glances back at you with a wince.

“Okay, okay,” Hayden swallows thickly, “what do you guys usually do when this happens?”

“Oh, I usually pass out.”

Huffing, you sigh; “it’s true.”

“Still might do that.”

“You are not passing out on me,” you growl, sending a narrowed look his way. “Not this time.” Lowering your gaze, you pull back more of his jersey, catching the tail end of Stiles’ eyes rolling and him wobbling on his legs.

“Stiles!”

“Okay, okay.” Inhaling sharply, he nods. “Scott did this with pain. You can trigger it. Pain makes you human.”

“He’s already in pain.”

“No, no, that could work,” you nod, “maybe adding more can take away a little.”

Liam suddenly lets out a cry, sitting out as he pants heavily.

“Okay,” Hayden whispers, shifting lightly. “Take away his pain... take away his pain.”

Before you know it, she’s leaning forward, grasping Liam lightly by the cheeks as she presses her lips against his. You blink in response, shuffling on your feet, before, instinctively really, your eyes flicker towards Stiles’. Your cheeks warm when his are already on you, quickly adverting your eyes back to the two, focusing on paying attention if the action is helping Liam; even if only a little.

At the black veins that appear across Hayden’s cheeks, you figure it is.

Slowly pulling back, Liam falls back against the desk, letting out heavy, but calm pants.

“Okay,” Stiles whispers, “next time, i’ll kiss him.”

Letting out a snort, you swallow thickly, meeting Stiles’ gaze briefly before glancing down at your hands.

You don’t notice the way his gaze lingers.

“Just wait--!”

“I can’t--”

“Liam’s almost healed up, just wait until--”

“It’s Scott, Stiles,” you remind, turning your head over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Frowning, you inhale sharply, deeply. “It’s Scott. I can’t wait.”

Stiles purses his lips, the frown never wavering as he shakes his head at you. You know he doesn’t like the idea, but you can’t wait. Now that Liam’s healing, you can’t just stand around here and wait. The Beast was somewhere out there and so was Scott; and you knew your brother. He was probably out there trying to help kids and save lives. And he’d need help to do it.

Swallowing thickly, Stiles’ grip on you never loosens. Instead, his fingers tighten around your wrist, not painfully, but in a way that begs you to stay. You don’t realize it, but the reason why he’s so desperate for you not to leave is because the last time you ran off like this, you got stabbed and nearly died.

“What about your powers?” Stiles asks gently, voice a whisper. “You still don’t--”

Swallowing thickly, you pry your wrist from his grasp, meeting his eyes firmly; “Scott needs my help.” Then, at his silence, you take a step back, moving towards the door. “Lock the door behind me. Wait until Liam’s good to go before you open it.”

Taking a step forward, Stiles’ shakes his head; “Y/N, just--!”

But you don’t listen.

You’re out the door, shutting it behind you and sending Stiles one last brief glance through the small window. You feel slightly guilty at the panic that floods his eyes, but you know Liam won’t be far behind you. And even if you were terrified and had been the one to ask Scott not to make you use your powers, you could sense he needed you now. And you weren’t going to fail him this time. Not again.

It doesn’t take you long to find him. You follow the sound of growling and roaring and before you know it, you find yourself at the library. You slam the doors open and instantly your eyes zone in on that of the Beast, missing the teenagers hidden in the upstairs section of the library, between shelves and anything else, zoning in on the sight of Scott being tossed back and slammed into the stairs.

His name leaves your lips in a cry, catching the attention of the Beast. You freeze, for just a second, as the Beast’s sharp and cold blue eyes turn to you, focusing in on you. He completely blocks the sight of Scott but you can hear him cry out for you, voice muffled with groans and grunts of pain.

But he can’t help you. That’s what you came here for; to help him. So, you just gotta... do it.

“Okay, Y/N,” you whisper to yourself, shuffling on your feet slightly, swallowing thickly. “You got this.”

Swiping your hands upwards, a small grunt leaves your lips as you feel your powers surge forwards. It floods through your arms, from your shoulders to your fingertips, stopping the Beast just as it takes a lunging steps towards you. The purple aura hits it directly in the chest, sending it flying back into the stairs and just missing Scott who’d scrambled to get out of the way.

With wide eyes, you glance down at your hands. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“Y/N!”

Blinking at Scott’s bellow, your eyes widen when you see the Beast suddenly lunging towards you. How’d it even get up that fast? Your feet scramble beneath you, rushing backwards to avoid it’s hit, watching as it’s claws get closer and closer to you and the panic settles deep within you.

Then, another growl echoes, and the distant cry of duck echoes. You don’’t hesitate to listen, eyes watching as Liam lunges on top of you, his fists slamming into the Beasts head directly, sending it stumbling back.

In the next second, a shotgun firing echoes.

Glancing behind yourself, your eyes widen with relief at the sight of Braeden and Malia, the latter letting out a growl as her eyes glow blue, taking steps forward. The bullets that hit the Beast does more damage then you would’ve expected and, as the two fall next to you, you stand up, meeting Malia’s eyes briefly before flinging your hands before yourself, pushing your powers out of you.

You force the Beast to stay put for as long as you can, it writhing in response to your restraint held on him and the bullets ricochet off of him relentlessly. A scream begins to build at the back of your throat, your face turn red and strained from the force of your powers and keeping them directed. You’re careful not to lose control, now knowing the many teenagers around you.

You’re not like her.

And you’re not. You’re not like Anne. You don’t have to be. You can be different, you can get control of yourself. You just have to focus, Be less afraid. Believe in yourself.

You’re not a monster.

You help protect. Like your brother. Like Malia, Lydia and Liam. Like Stiles. You protect.

Feeling your muscles contract painful, you let out a huff, “I can’t hold on!”

“It’s fine!” Braden calls in response, “it’s hurt!”

Heeding to your words, you pull back, the Beast finally being able to jump up from it’s spot. For a second, you’re afraid it’ll retaliate, but it’s leaping out of the window in the next second, glass shattering loudly, before a light thump echoes as it hits the ground.

Without a second thought, you’re rushing over to Scott.

“You didn’t seriously think you were going to have a chance against that thing, did you?” Braeden bellows, shaking her at Scott who slowly limps over to her.

Panting, Scott shakes his head; “no.” Then, he shifts, and his expression hardens with determination as he glances at the shattered window. “But, I got it’s scent.”

With a nod from Kira, you step back, letting the door shut softly behind you.

However, you don’t notice the figures stood at the end of all. At least, not until you move to turn, a small yelp of surprise leaving your lips at the sight. Setting a hand against your chest, you let your eyes drift across the three figures, from Stiles on the far left, to Malia and then Braeden, lips pursing at the looks they’re sending you.

“What?” You whisper, stepping forward and making your way over to them. “What happened?”

Stiles turns to look at Malia who, avoiding his eyes, turns to Braeden.

Brows furrowing, you shake your head; “hello?”

“Tell her,” Braeden speaks up, nodding at Malia and gesturing towards you.

Turning to Malia, you quirk a brow.

“You know how my mother wants to kill me?” You nod, “I think she might want to kill you too.”

Lips parting, you pause; “well,” eyes drifting over to Stiles, you frown. “That’s concerning.”

Stepping forward, Stiles raises his hand; “I should probably have a gun.”

“What?” You exclaim without hesitance, eyes narrowing in absolute bafflement at Stiles. “Why should you have a gun?”

“To protect you,” he says simply.

Scoffing, you shake your head; “i’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

All he sends you is a pointed look.

“I wouldn’t give him a gun anyways,” Braeden says bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest as she turns to look at Stiles sharply.

His eyes bulge; “you have a gun,” his word slightly stammer, obviously coming up with some sort of excuse on why he should on the spot. “The Desert Wolf is trying to kill Y/N,” he gestures to you, to which you blink at him, “and i’d like to be able to protect her.”

“Stiles--”

“Braeden,” Malia cuts in, nodding over at her.

“What?” You mumble to yourself, arms coming up in exasperation.

With a huff, Braeden complies to Stiles wish, mainly because of Malia. But her face makes it clear she’s about to prove her point. Pulling out a handgun from her back pocket, she pulls to bullets out, gesturing the gun over to Stiles. He blinks with realization, hands hovering upwards slightly in preparation.

He doesn’t catch the gun when thrown to him. Instead, he makes a fool of himself, tossing it around a couple of times before it clatters to the ground loudly.

Letting out a sigh, you let your head fall into your hands.

“I probably shouldn’t have a gun.”

“My dad’s got an APB out...”

“For a five-eight sixteen-year-old?” You question lightly, turning your body towards Stiles.

“I recommended nine-foot tall rampaging werewolf,” Stiles replies, causing you to let out a snort, shaking your head.

“It still might not be him.”

Your smile fades at that, frowning over at Liam who glances down at his hands, wringing them together. Upon the many eyes that fall on him, he slowly glances up, catching your gaze first. Smiling softly and pitifully down at him, you purse your lips, sending him a knowing look.

Sighing, Liam’s shoulders drop; “but, Hayden’s at the school looking.”

Malia nods; “I can keep checking the woods.”

“My mom can check all the hospitals in the county.”

Blinking at the sound of Scott’s voice, you instantly straighten up in alarm at the sight of him walking into the kitchen. Your eyes drift across his figure in worry, looking for any sign of the injury he’d got last night. You settle, just a little, when you don’t see any.

Smiling, he nods at all of you; “we can find him.”

“What happens then?” Liam asks, not wasting a second.

“We figure out a way to save him,” you assure, smiling at him reassuringly.

“Okay,” Lydia nods, “where else can we look.”

Shuffling on his feet, Scott tilts his head; “we can ask Corey.” Your eyes narrow in confusion but in the next second, Scott’s reaching beside him, grabbing a hold of something, rather someone, and tugging him forward. You blink in surprise when Corey materializes, everyone flinching back in response as his eyes widen and he’s quick and desperate to explain himself;

“Wait, wait! It’s not my fault! They took him and I couldn’t do anything--”

“Who?”

“The Dread Doctors.”

“If you’re trusting Theo, i’m coming with.”

“Y/N--”

“It’s just a given,” you cut off, turning to meet Scott’s gaze with a nod. “We said we had each other’s back, remember? So,” you tilt your head for emphasis, “i’m coming with.”

Stopping you from walking further, Scott gently grasps your wrist in his hand, stepping in front of you. He steps close, causing you to crane your head upwards to properly meet his gaze, blinking up at him in surprise. It’s then, as you get a proper look, you see the concern in his gaze. The panic. It causes you to falter, just slightly, frowning.

“Are you sure?” He questions softly, nodding down at you, desperate for you to see just how serious he really is. “Because don’t feel like you have to do this. That anyone’s expecting you to. It’s okay if you can’t,” and then, he pauses, swallowing thickly. “I’d understand if you can’t.”

“It’s getting better, Scott,” you whisper, a light smile curling onto your lips. “It’s gotten better.”

His brows raise in surprise at that, lips parting; “it has?”

“Yeah,” you smile, nodding your head. “At the game, I had another episode. I tried to find you, but couldn’t. And it was bad. it was like this burning fire inside my stomach and I was so scared, terrified, that I was going to hurt someone. But then...” You pause a moment, lowering your gaze to your feet, licking your lips. “Stiles came. I ended up throwing him back but... but he snapped me out of it.”

Scott blinks, “Stiles did?”

“Yeah, but not just him,” you shake your head. “I think, similar to how you couldn’t heal until we were all together, I needed things to be better. I needed you back, and the rest of the pack. And... even if Stiles and I are... well, you know, we’re better. I think. But, it’s helping. It really is. It helped enough that I was able to hold off the Beast, even for just a bit, and help you without spiraling out of control.”

Lips parted slightly, Scott nods slowly, his grip easing as his gaze softens.

“And I can’t let Theo tear us all apart again.”

“He won’t,” Scott assures, not wasting a second to do so. “He won’t ever again.”

“I know,” you say softly, smiling up at Scott. “But, I need to be there. I need to go with you and Liam. Keep you safe.”

And then, Scott’s smile falters, even if only a little. Running a hand through his hair, brushing it back and out his face, he sighs. “Maybe it’s my turn to keep you safe...”

“You keep me safe all time,” you say simply, shrugging your shoulders up at Scott with a flicker of confusion at his comment. It didn’t make sense to you. How could he say that and not realize that his entire life, he’s been keeping you safe? That you feel safe every time he’s around and that while Stiles and the rest of the pack helped, it was him who held you together when you were falling part.

And it was him only.

“Just by having you by my side, I feel safer.”

Eyes widening in surprise, Scott pulls back; “really?”

“Yeah,” you say with ease, letting out a light chuckle at his surprise. “Of course.”

His shoulders fall, settling and his entire body relaxes. Scott’s lips curve upwards to mimic your smile and taking a small step back, he nods down at you. “Okay,” he whispers, “let’s do this then. Let’s find Mason.”

“They called him Der Soldat. That’s German for ‘The Soldier’.”

Inhaling deeply, you follow two steps behind your brother and Liam, already feeling the sour taste in your mouth develop at the sight of Theo. Every time you see him, you think; I can’t possibly hate him more than I do now. You’re wrong every time.

“I’m pretty sure he fought in World War Two.” Theo continues, spinning around to face the three of you.

“And he was a Nazi,” Scott adds, nodding.

“And an alpha werewolf.”

Pursing your lips, your brows furrow.

“The Dread Doctors were using him to prolong their lives,” Theo explains, “they’ve been doing it for decades. Actually, probably longer.”

Concern bleeds into Liam’s expression and with a shake of his head, he sighs; “how old are these guys?”

“Who knows,” Theo shrugs, “but wherever they go, he goes, too.”

Inhaling sharply, you step forward, falling next to your brother and sending Theo a pointed look. “So, where do we find him?”

Theo’s eyes flicker over to your own, slowly and carefully, and you ignore the bit of fear, the way your body tenses in response, pushing the feeling to the back of your mind. The key was to fight the fear, not let it consume you like you had. And that became ten times harder when dealing with Theo. But you were determined to hold strong; you were getting better and you were not going to let yourself fall again.

“Keeping him alive requires a pretty unique set of conditions,” he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be a power source. It has to be underground...--”

“And on a telluric current.” Scott finishes for Theo, reaching into the pocket of his jean jacket and pulling out a folded slip of paper; the telluric map. With hesitance, he holds it towards Theo, and you watch him take it was a careful eye.

Pulling it open, the edges of his lips curl upwards; “looks like we’re going for a hike.”

“Where is he?”

“I thought we were looking for him.”

“You know who i’m talking about.”

Meeting Liam’s eyes briefly, you sigh.

“Deucalion?” Theo quirks a brow.

Scott shakes his head adamantly, “you shouldn’t trust him.”

Tilting his head, Theo is careful to remind Scott of the fact; “and you’re the one who let him live.”

Scoffing, you huff; “we’re not murderers.”

“You still think you’re gonna get through all this without killing anyone?”

Scott glances back at you, meeting your eyes carefully, before his hisses out; “no one said that.”

It’s then, out of the corner of your eye, you notice Liam slow. With a faint call of Scott’s name, you pull both his and Theo’s attention on Liam, watching him carefully as his eyes remains lowered, pausing in thought. Then, after a moment, he nods; “we’re close.”

“You get his scent?”

Meeting Scott’s eyes, he nods.

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, “which way?”

Liam doesn’t respond. He’s careful to avoid Theo’s gaze, turning to Scott, his alpha, the expression in his eyes saying it all. He doesn’t want to tell Theo and he definitely doesn’t want to bring Theo along.

Letting out a light chuckle, Theo paces on his feet; “you think you’re gonna leave me behind?”

Quirking a brow, you smirk over at Theo; “it would be preferable.”

Rolling his eyes at you, Theo takes a step towards you; “trust me, princess, you need me.”

Your eyes narrow at his pet name, jawing clenching. You can feel your anger swell, a long line of it given everything Theo’s done, but, the second you take a step towards him, Scott calls out sharply; “Liam.” And at the look on his face, it’s clear there’s no room left for argument.

Scoffing, you shake your head.

“Look,” Liam calls, still hesitant, “he wants to kill him.”

“I just want his power,” Theo says simply. “You want to fight someone that actually wants to kill Mason? Go fight Parrish.”

“Who’d you see when you put on the mask?”

“I already told you,” Theo huffs, “it wasn’t Mason.”

“Who was it?”

Turning to Scott, Theo sighs; “I saw a man dying in the snow,” he shrugs. “He was impaled on a spear.”

Scott’s eyes widen with realization; “it’s called a pike. Lydia told us the story.”

Nodding to yourself, you hum; “I remember.”

“Then you all know what it means.” Theo reminds, “time’s running out. Where is he, Liam? What direction?”

Liam’s clearly reluctant. But however, despite how much you might hate it, you can’t argue that right now, you do need Theo. So, with a small shuffle forward, you set your hand on Liam’s shoulder, pulling his eyes on you with a surprised blink. Sighing, you just nod, your expression clearly showing your distaste. But, in that moment, you can tell Liam understands just as much as you and Scott do.

There is no other option.

Stepping forward, Liam huffs; “this way.”

You follow Liam for a few more minutes, not that long, before you catch sight of some hut looking thing. Liam’s pace considerably quickens and he’s racing towards the door without second thought, reaching out to open it, desperate to get to Mason.

However, Scott stops him before he can. Grabbing hold of his wrist, Scott turns to Liam; “listen,” he guides.

You can’t hear, not as well as them. But if the widened expression on Liam’s face and the hope that bleeds into his gaze is anything to go by, you figure it has to be good. At least, as good as it can be.

“It’s him.”

He’s pulling open the door then, practically swinging it open. Scott sets his hand gently on your back, making sure you go in before him before following after you, Theo on the tail end. Rushing down the steps right behind Liam, you hesitate, slowing a little as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You duck, trying to peer through as best you can.

“Mason?” Liam whispers, making his way down the rest of the steps.

At one last turn, your eyes widen at the sight of Mason.

You all rush forward, Liam in the front, not hesitating a moment before he crouches down before Mason. You crouch down on the opposite side of him, Scott and Theo still stood, as your eyes drift across Mason for sight of any injuries. There aren’t really any, except for the giant needle sticking out of the back of his head that connects to a tube of what you can only guess someone who was once human.

Glancing back at Scott with wide eyes, you frown; “it’s connected to him.”

“What is this thing?”

Narrowing your eyes at Theo, you expect him to have an answer.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, causing you to sigh as he shuffles on his feet. For a brief moment you take notice of the fact that he actually seems surprise. That he actually seems bewildered by the sight as much as you, Scott and Liam do. For once, he almost looks as if he doesn’t know everything.

“Liam,” Mason cries, voice weak, raspy. “I can feel it,” he gasps, “it’s in my skull.”

Mason movement causes the machine to whir, whatever that means. But, you assume it isn’t anything good.

“Don’t move,” Liam warns, voice desperate.

“Be careful.”

Spinning his head round towards Theo, Liam cries out; “what’re they doing to him?”

“I don’t know.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “You’re supposed to.”

Theo’s eyes widen in response to your comment, and, still stood back, he huffs. “I’ve never--”

“Guys,” Scott cuts in, sending you a sharp look. “Let’s focus. Mason, we’re gonna get you out of here.” Mason doesn’t respond, and you don’t blame him. Instead, Scott directs his attention on you and Liam, nodding at you specifically. “Hold him still,” he warns and you’re quick to listen. Shifting forward like Liam, you grab hold of Mason’s arm and shoulder while Liam holds onto him by his waist.

“Okay,” Scott inhales sharply, “all right. I’m going to try to pull it out.”

Breathless, Mason nods.

“Let me know if it hurts...”

The second Scott grabs hold of the needle, Mason lets out a piercing scream. His body tenses beneath your touch and he’s moving to fight you. Scott’s quick to let go, hands falling by his side helplessly.

“It hurts!” Mason groans. “It definitely hurts.”

Turning to you and Liam, Scott swallows thickly; “I barely moved it.”

There’s a moment of silence, your eyes on Scott. The second you notice his eyes widen in alarm, falling on something past Liam, your own narrow in concern. But it’s then, as you turn to follow his gaze, you hear the familiar clicking. And, as you turn to look, your fears of what that noise is is only confirmed when you find a Dread Doctor stood directly behind Theo.

But the clicking continues, and your eyes widen as it gets louder. Glancing around, you swallow thickly at the sight of two more.

Scott pushes himself up to his feet, pacing to the middle as Theo follows his lead. “They wanted us here,” Theo mumbles, glancing around.

“Liam, Y/N,” you blink at the sound of your voice, “try to get that thing out of Mason’s neck.”

Meeting Liam’s gaze, you nod, shuffling forward. You grip onto Mason as Liam’s attention falls on the needle, his hands hovering around it, hesitant.

You flinch at the feeling of a thumping footstep, one of the Dread Doctors moving. “Theo,” it calls through it’s static-sounding voice. “Theo Raeken.”

“He’s coming with us.”

“Failure,” it continues, ignoring Theo. “Theo Raeken.”

Brows furrowed, you tilt your head, enough to see his face. You take note of the fact that at the Dread Doctor’s words, he seems to falter, his face hardening, becoming distressed as he stammers; “i’m not... i’m not a failure.”

“Liam,” Mason gasps, grabbing a hold of his friend. “Get out of here. Just go....”

“Not a complete failure,” the Dread Doctor compromises, “we learned from you.”

“Theo,” your brother calls softly, “he’s trying to get to you. This is what they want, don’t give it to them. We can’t beat them.”

“The mark of a true failure. Repeating the same mistake again and again.”

“We’re taking Mason,” Theo growls, turning towards Scott with a tilt of his head. Your lips part when you notice, faintly, the glow of his eyes, not missing the growl in his voice as he continues. “Then i’m taking what’s mine.”

Pushing yourself up to your feet, you tense as the Dread Doctor comes to a complete stop in front of Theo.

“Let him go.”

“You have the entitlement and narcissism typical of your generation. In that, you are a profound success..

“Liam,” you hiss, “try it again.”

He listens, surprisingly, his hand gripping the needle reluctantly. However, one tug and Mason’s letting out a painful cry once again, instantly halting Liam’s actions. With wide and panicked eyes, he turns to your brother. “Scott, I can’t get it out. I... I don’t know what to do.”

Scott races towards Mason, crouching before him.

“But,” the Dread Doctor speaks up, “your failure taught us one thing. The banality of evil. That you were and would always be an ordinary evil.”

“You think i’m ordinary?” Theo growls.

“We believed that to resurrect the perfect killer we had to start with the perfect evil. From you we learned true evil only comes by corrupting something truly good.”

Inhaling sharply, you shake your head, turning to your brother and Liam. “Not something.”

“Someone,” Liam finishes, glancing over at Mason.

Theo lunges at the surgeon before him. And against your better judgement, you find yourself jumping to your feet when all he manages to do is slam his clawed fist against metal. You hear, distantly, Scott cry out for you in panic, but you don’t listen, ducking a nearly successful hit across the head. Raising your hand, you turn to the Dread Doctor directly in front of you, halting it’s movements for enough time to kick your leg out at it.

“Okay,” you wince, stumbling back, “not a good idea.”

Ignoring the pain that radiates through your leg, you stumble back at the approaching surgeon, trying to gain your balance before a figure jumps past you. You blink in realization at the sight of Liam, knocking the Dread Doctor that had been after you, back.

“Y/N!”

Spinning round at Scott calling your name, you meet his eyes, understanding his meaning when he takes a step forward the last and final Dread Doctor. Kicking your leg back, you push your focus into holding the Dread Doctor in place, giving Scott enough time to run and lunge at it. His his practically does nothing.

Liam is tossed past you, distracting you when the surgeon steps towards you, allowing the other Dread Doctor to easily toss Scott aside.

Swallowing thickly, you glance around, whilst stumbling back, trying to find something. Your eyes zone in on the first thing, some sort of barrel, flickering your eyes towards the Dread Doctor and sending the object directly into it. You freeze when it does nothing.

“Well, shit,” you sigh, shuffling back.

“Y/N!” Scott cries, just as the Dread Doctor latches it’s hand around your throat, easily picking you up off your feet and into the air.

Gasping for breath, you claw at the hand, staring into the black eyes that stare back at you, kicking your feet wildly beneath you. You can’t tell, but Scott nor Liam can’t get to you because of the other Dread Doctor, and it’s clear Theo had already been preoccupied by the one that had been taunting him. Which means, you’re on your own.

Trying to calm your racing heart, the sound of Mason bellowing barely reaches your own ears as you let your eyes fall shut, forcing yourself to ignore the shortness of breath and the desperation for air. You put all your focus, just for a moment, into yourself, feeling that similar fire as the night of the game bubble deep inside of you. However, this time, you have control. This time, it’s you forcing it out.

Letting out a cry, your eyes flicker open, glowing purple as a heat of red floods you and the Dread Doctor. Your own flames don’t touch you, but the definitely touch the monster blocking off your air. However, despite the progress, despite the amount of controlled power that had just left you, the flames don’t do anything. It barely even effects the Dread Doctor.

That’s when the panic settles back in.

You can feel your face grow hot, feel yourself begging for air but not being able to get any. Your nails dig into the metal of the Dread Doctor, feet kicking wildly beneath you, trying to break away.

And just as you see black bleed into the corners of your eyes, the tightness around your throat eases.

You fall to your knees with a thud, a loud gasp breaking past your lips as your hand falls against your neck, skin sweaty as you inhale deeply and sharply. A body hovers next to you in seconds, and you glance up to meet Scott’s worried gaze, before turning to look behind you. Your eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Mason stood up, dropping the needle that had been stuck in him, breathless.

This cannot be good.

“Transformation,” one of the Dread Doctors begins, “transformation without frequency.”

Your lips part as a cloud of black smoke forms around Mason’s feet, slowly crawling up his body. But nothing beats the way his eyes begin to glow blue and the faint sound of him growling echoes. He’s turning into the Beast.

“Mason!” Liam cries.

“That is not my name.” Mason growls, but it’s not him. His voice is distorted, deep, unrecognizable. It isn’t Mason. “My name...”

And before your very eyes, he turns into the Beast,

One by one, the Beast takes out the Dread Doctors until there’s only one left. Scott is quick to pull you to your feet and into a corner, tucked with Liam, as you watch the Beast stomp it’s way over to the last one and in turn Theo. However, his attention doesn’t seem to be focused on Theo at all, easily knocking him aside and zoning in on the last surgeon.

The last thing the surgeon says is “success” before the Beast is digging it’s claws into the surgeons stomach, piercing the metal and causing the Dread Doctor to bellow over in pain. Clinging onto Scott, you press your back firmly against the wall behind you, watching in bewilderment as the Beast tosses the last Dread Doctor aside, it’s body limp, and drags it with him.

With Scott’s help, you pull yourself up to your feet, Liam with the two of you, rushing out of the room and out back into the forest. You blink at the sight of Parrish, or rather, the Hell Hound, lunging on to the Beast just as it drops the last Dread Doctor.

This was something you clearly didn’t understand. The only thing you did was that the Hell Hound meant to kill the Beast, but the Beast was also Mason.

Gun shots fire and you don’t have to even glance to know it’s Chris Argent, however, your eyes narrow at the sight of Gerard following closely behind him. Scott had told you what Chris had done, but, this is the first time you’ve seen Gerard in person.

The Beast cries out in pain, obviously feeling cornered, until eventually Chris stops. Your eyes narrow, trying to get a good look as the Beast somehow disappears, transforming into something else; something human. But, it’s not Mason.

“La Bete du Gevaudan!” Gerard cries aloud causing you to blink in bafflement. “I know your name. Do you remember mine?”

The man, this... La Bete du Gevaudan only hesitates a moment before spitting out, with clear hatred, the name; “Argent.”

In the next second, he’s running off and Parrish is quick to follow after him.

Stopping next to Chris and Gerard, Scott huffs; “who the hell is that?”

“You’ve seen the Beast of Gevaudan. That was the Man.” Gerard nods.

Turning to Chris, your lips part as he sighs.

“Sebastian Valet.”

“Can you keep him alive?”

“I’m not sure he technically is alive.”

“Screw keeping him alive,” Liam scoffs, “how do we get him to talk?”

“Personally, I don’t think we utilize torture nearly enough.”

“For once,” you sigh, meeting Stiles gaze, “I agree.”

Scott just shakes his head.

Then, Liam suddenly asks; “do you hear that?”

And you pause, halting just for a second to see if you do hear anything. But, of course, you don’t. You don’t hear anything and you’re left to glance over at Stiles questioningly as Liam and Scott glance around, faces furrowing in confusion and bewilderment.

In the next second, the Dread Doctor springs upwards and you let out a cry, your hands falling to your ears and pressing hard in response to the loud piercing screech. You stumble back on your feet, the entire floor beneath you rumbling as you wince, a light groan leaving your lips, desperate for the noise to ease, to disappear.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the Dread Doctor standing up on it’s feet, moving to leave.

Hands fall on you, tucking you into another. It takes you a second to realize it’s Stiles, but you don’t hesitate to curl into him, muscles straining as you try to block out the noise.

“Liam!” Scott cries, and somehow you hear it amongst all else. “Wait!”

Shifting in Stiles’ grasp, your eyes widen in alarm as Liam lunges towards the Doctor only to be sent flying back by some sort of force. It almost appears as if some sort of blue aura, it pulsating around Liam and sending him crashing into the wall of the clinic, clattering to the ground with a cry of pain.

The Dread Doctor escapes, and the piercing eases.

Slowly pulling your hands from your face, Stiles pulling back from you, you glance around in confusion, only for a second later for all of the examining tables to shake violently. You flinch back back, slamming into Stiles as all the tables slam into the adjacent wall, hard, before falling to the ground.

Liam is up on his feet, racing forward, in the next second and Scott moves to follow him.

“Wait!” Deaton bellows, his hand reaching out before him, racing forward.

The two stop, electricity sparking.

“It’s electrified.”

Brows furrowing, your shoulders fall.

Silence follows for a moment, before Scott calls out; “the cane.”

And you’re confused for only a moment, before, you realize they’re listening in on whatever conversation is happening outside the clinic.

“But they took it,” Liam adds, “they took the cane.”

“Maybe there’s something in here. Something about how he was a Genetic Chimera?”

“Mason had a vanishing twin.”

“Now we’ve got a vanishing Mason,” Stiles sighs, and you roll your eyes at his poorly placed attempt at a joke. Or... something.

“What does that have to do with him turning into a two-hundred-and-a-fifty-year-old French guy?” Liam stammers, “how does that even happen?”

“Hold on,” Deaton eases, “Scott might have something. Mason’s twin wasn’t entirely gone. That’s what made him a Genetic Chimera.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, licking your lips in thought. “The DNA was still there.”

“Metaphorically speaking,” Deaton nods, “the DNA of Mason could still be inside Sebastien as well.”

Lips parting, Stiles’ brows furrow; “how?”

“Life is energy,” Deaton begins, gesturing his hands around in explanation, “energy doesn’t just disappear. The Dread Doctors may have found a way to break the rules of the Supernatural world but there are some rules that simply won’t break.”

“So,” Liam starts, hopeful, “Mason can’t just be gone?”

“Somewhere in Sebastien he has to still exist in some form.”

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Stiles slowly pick up the helmet of the Dread Doctor you’d picked up from outside, glancing down at it in deep thought.

“A spark of energy,” Deaton continues, “a flicker of memory.”

“Hang on...” Stiles calls, confirming your previously thought thoughts. “Liam, you said Mason said something right before he turned.”

“He said, ‘that’s not my name’.”

Your eyes widen with realization. “He finally remembered his name.”

“Damnatio Memoriae.”

That’s right. Stiles had explained it early, a while back. That’s...

“That’s what they wanted.” Liam exclaims, nodding. “They wanted Sebastien to remember his name.”

“Scott, you know the myth of what happens when you call a werewolf by it’s given name?”

Scott’s eyes ease with recognition; “it turns back to human.”

Letting out a puff of air, you shake your head; “what does that mean?” Meeting Scott’s gaze, you push; “someone can just walk up to the Beast, yell Mason’s name and turn him back?”

"Not someone.”

“Lydia.”

“Lydia, this is gonna have to stay just between us since I can get fired for it.”

Fair enough.

“It’s a cortisone shot,” Scott explains lightly, smiling reassuringly down at her. “It’s gonna bring the inflammation down.”

Weakly, Lydia nods, eyes hazed.

Pulling the cap off the needle, Melissa nods at Lydia, who, in response, pulls her arm out, palm facing upwards. Instantly, Melissa winces, shaking her head. “Not there.” And you tense when you realize she means the needle’s gonna have to go in her neck, directly where she’d been hurt.

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Stiles gasps from beside you, “I’m gonna need to leave.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Melissa says simply, eyes still focused on her task. “You’re going to hold her hand.”

You falter, just for a moment. Just briefly. A flash of jealousy bleeding into your senses before you realize, this isn’t about you. There is more pressing things at hand. So, swallowing thickly, you take a step back as Stiles takes a step forward, huffing, “okay, fine. I’m not leaving, but I still might faint.”

You force yourself not to focus on the sight of his hand slipping into her own.

You’re being stupid, you hiss at yourself. Stop being so childish.

“Okay,” Melissa says softly, “here we go.”

In the next second, Liam’s body thuds to the ground. Blinking down at him, you roll your eyes.

As Scott steps forward to check on him, you replace his place, falling next to Lydia and setting your hand softly in her lap, meeting her gaze briefly with a reassuring nod. You know it won’t help the pain or really, anything else. But, you hope it makes her feel better. Even if only a little.

“Okay, Lydia, this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Stiles, just slow--!”

He doesn’t listen, swinging open the door to your house without a moment of hesitance. However, he doesn’t make it even a step farther before a gun is pointed directly at his chest.

Eyes widening, your heart begins to pound madly against your chest.

“Oh, damn...”

You hadn’t noticed Malia. Not at first at least. But you’re glad she’s there because in the next second she’s lunging forward, grabbing Stiles’ by the arms and tossing him out of the way before turning to her mother and blocking you from her line of shot. As they scramble and fight against each other, you squeeze past, rushing over to Stiles.

“Stiles?” You call softly, pulling him up and towards yourself. “Hey, Stiles?”

He groans out in response but a tiny puff of relief leaves your lips when you realize he’s at least okay. He looks a little shaken and definitely dazed, but...

“Okay, okay, here.” Helping him up, you notice a second too late the figure of Malia’s mom, Malia this time completely out of sight, you and Stiles both glancing up at her slowly.

In the next second, Stiles is lunging to his feet, hopping over the couch with the intent to attack her. However, he doesn’t make it far, Malia’s mother grabbing Stiles and flipping him over, letting him slam into the cracked and broken glass table, stomach first.

Your eyes widen, unable to hide the cry of panic that leaves your voice as you bellow out; “Stiles?”

He spins round at the sound of your voice, rolling to his back, which then reveals the rather large shard of glass pierce directly into his shoulder. Your breath halts, getting choked at the back of your throat at the sight, the blood coating the clear glass. Slowly, Stiles’ eyes flicker up to your own, holding your gaze as his own lulls and rolls to the back of his head.

“Stiles!”

A cry of anger leaves your lips, directed only at Malia’s mother. It forces her back, slamming her aside and into the adjacent wall as you easily climb over the couch, ignoring the faint pain that radiates through your knees as you crouch next to Stiles, hands hovering over the shard.

“Jesus!” Stiles bellows, eyes bulging in pain.

“Okay, okay,” you gasp, “okay, i’m gonna pull it out, okay? I’m gonna...”

“Is that the right thing to do?” Stiles cries, wide eyes falling on your own amongst the pain.

“I don’t know!” You exclaim, shaking your head. “I think!”

“Y/N!”

“Trust me!”

He falls silent at that, and you ignore, just for the moment, as gun shots bellow. You try to act quickly, knowing Malia needs your help, but selfishly, Stiles comes first. He’ll... he’ll always come first.

“Okay, it’s gonna hurt. I’ll count to three.” Stiles just groans, face turning white as he withers in the spot. “One, two... three!” You rip it out, wincing as Stiles cries out in pain, his hand instantly falling to his shoulder and gripping on tightly. Swallowing thickly, you hastily brush back your hair, ripping off a strand of your shirt and moving Stiles’ arm, carefully, to wrap the clothe around, tying it tightly.

“It’ll help,” you explain numbly, nodding down at the look Stiles sends you.

Shifting, he moves to sit up, groaning slightly. You move to ask him if he’s alright before another gun shot rings and the familiar cry of Malia echoes.

Turning to you, Stiles’ eyes widen; “plan A.”

Nodding, you pull his backpack off of him, hastily searching through for the jar Scott had given him. Once you find it, you don’t waste any time, pushing yourself up to your feet, and turning, moving to the edge of the hallway adjacent to Malia. “Malia!” You bellow, “here!”

She catches the jar, recognizing it and you watch in anticipation as her mother continues to rush forward, stabbing her claws directly into Malia in the next second. Your body tenses in response, swallowing thickly as the jar falls to the ground, shattering.

There’s a moment of wonder, of panic, as her mother growls; “I want my power back,” but then, Malia’s eyes glow and, mimicking her mothers actions, she stabs her claws into her, her mother’s eyes instantly widening in fear of realization.

“I want my family back.”

Plan A works. You can sense and see Malia getting stronger as her mother gets weaker, stumbling back as a gasp of pain leaves her lips, her hands falling to her stomach.

She doesn’t make it very far, however, before Braeden appears, knocking her out.

You let out a sigh of relief, nodding at Malia when she meets your gaze.

“Okay,” you breathe after a moment, pulling everyone’s eyes on you. “Is everyone okay?”

“I,” Stiles calls, raising his hand (his good arm), “for one, could be better.”

Y/N...

With a soft groan, you shift at the noise, eyes flickering open momentarily.

Y/N, help me.

Your eyes snap open at that, the voice familiar. Strangely familiar. You knew it, but in that moment couldn’t place it. Couldn’t place a face to the voice or understand why when you heard it, it made your body freeze and your chest tighten and everything feel cold.

Nor could you understand why you were hearing the voice in the first place.

Help me... please.

“Theo...”

That’s why you knew the voice. That’s why it scared you to hear it.

It was... Theo. But that didn’t make sense. Scott had told you that Theo had been taken by his sister, where? You weren’t exactly sure. But he’d been dragged viciously through a hole in the earth. You remembered the relief that had flooded you at the news; even if you hadn’t been there to actually see his demise nor had you had any part in it, to know Theo was gone and ended up where he rightfully deserved had left you feeling at peace.

Even if only a little.

So why were you hearing him?

You’re the only one I can reach. Talk to.

Bringing your knees up to your chest, you press your chin against your knees, your hands falling to your ears as your eyes scrunch shut. You try to block out the noise, try to ignore the voice. Because it wasn’t possible. Theo shouldn’t be able to talk to you; he was... he was gone.

And you don’t want to hear him. You thought, finally, you’d gotten rid of him from your life. Even if you’d known the effects of what he’d done wouldn’t just disappear like him, you’d felt some relief at the thought that you wouldn’t have to face him everyday at school. Especially in your final year. That maybe, finally, things would just go smoothly.

So why?

We had a connection. You know it. You felt it.

“Shut up,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Just shut up.”

You can’t block me out. I’m in your head. And I won’t leave until you help me.

“No,” you mumble, words spilling past your lips rapidly and without rational thought. It barely occurs to you in that moment that you’re home, in your bed, and it’s the middle of the night. That Scott can probably hear you, and maybe even Melissa if you’re speaking louder then you think you are. But you can’t focus on that.

You want Theo gone.

“No, leave me alone. I-I won’t help you.”

Please, Y/N...

“No.” You argue, forcing emphasis on the word.

The fact that he even thinks, after all he’s done, that you would actually help him...

“Get out of my head. Get out.”

We had a connection, Y/N. We both know we did--

“No,” you hiss, “we didn’t.”

Yes, we did.

“Shut up. Just shut up.”

Help me, Y/N. Please. It’s... It’s hell down here.

“Good. It’s what you deserve.”

Y/N...

He won’t stop. He continues. Relentlessly. You feel yourself slipping with every time he speaks, turning inconsolable as you try to force him out. You can’t handle it, can’t imagine hearing him speaking into your own head for a moment longer.

And it hurts, aches, every time he speaks. You grow more and more irritated every time you hear his voice begging for your help. The audacity he has to even do so after how much he’d fucked everything up...

You’re surprised it takes you as long as it does to lose control.

“Get out!”

It’s a scream. It tears past your lips, shocking you. But as you pull your hands away from your ears, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your shoulder ease with realization that he’s gone. Theo’s gone. You can’t hear him.

A light knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. “Y/N?”

It’s Scott.

“I’m fine!” You call quickly, maybe a little too quickly, shaking your head. “I’m okay. I’m... I’m okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Scott pauses, “you were screaming--”

“A nightmare.” Then you cringe. “But just a plain old nightmare. It’s fine. I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

There’s an echo of silence, your heart pounding against your chest. But then, your eyes fall on your door knob, watching as it turns and Scott slowly steps in. There’s a deep frown on his lips and he looks concerned. “We promised we weren’t going to hide things from each other anymore, remember?”

Sighing, you frown, he’s right. You did promise that.

“I can’t explain it,” you shrug, meeting his eyes. “I just woke up and... Theo was talking to me?”

“Theo?” Scott questions, brows furrowed in bafflement. “But his sister--”

“I know and he was still with his sister, somewhere... He was...” Shaking your head, you swallow thickly. “He was asking me to help him. He said we had a connection and that he wasn’t going to stop until I got him out. But I got him out. I just... forced him out.” At the look on Scott’s face, you sigh; “I don’t understand it either.”

“But...” And Scott hesitates, frowning deeply. “You’re okay?”

You smile softly at that, nodding. “I’m okay, Scott. I promise.”

“Okay,” he nods and then he takes a step back, as if to leave. “If you need anything--”

Your smile brightens; “you’ll be the first one I go to.”

Satisfied with that, Scott bids you goodnight and leaves, shutting your door softly behind him. You watch him, waiting until you’re sure he’s far enough before letting out a shaky breath.

You might not hear Theo now, but that didn’t mean he still couldn’t come back.

Nor did you know why you could hear him in the first place.

With a small smile, you set your hand on Scott’s shoulder, pulling his gaze on you, tilted slightly.

“You okay?” You question softly, flickering your eyes faintly towards the shelf, where your signatures from the beginning of the year still laid. But most importantly, where Scott had also signed Allison’s initials.

Scott smile mimics your own and turning towards you completely, he nods. “Yeah,” he assures, “just... thinking.”

“You know,” you start lightly, “I think she’d be really proud of you, Scott.”

His eyes flood with hope, with this certain desperation and his lips part; “really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quickly and firmly. “You’ve really become a hero, Scott. Someone worth following.” And then, pausing a moment, you shrug your shoulders. “I know i’m proud of you.”

Scott sets his hand over your own, squeezing it as you pull it from his shoulder. His gaze holds your steadily, smiling brightly at you. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. Any of it.”

Cheeks warming slightly, you lower your gaze, eyes falling on your feet briefly, before you laugh up at Scott. “Stiles and Lydia are waiting for us,” you explain gently, “you ready?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

And you do. The both of you easily make your way down the steps, quickly catching sight of Lydia and Stiles just entering the library. They turn to you both as you make your way over, multiple greetings passing between the four of you as Scott takes a seat next to Stiles and you take one next to Lydia, directly in front of Stiles.

Time passes, conversation passing between all of you as you all idly work on your school work. But, amongst the conversation, you drift off, unable to stop yourself from glancing in front of yourself, directly at Stiles. And your cheeks warm when you realize he’d already been glancing at you, distant from the conversation too.

There’s a knowing look in both of your eyes. But one you don’t understand.

You can’t ignore the way your heart races when you meet his eyes, or the way your lips instinctively curl upwards in response. And you can’t ignore the way his eyes gaze back at your own, with what you can only describe as warm, or that his entire body seems to ease when he recognizes you looking back at him too. And it just seems to make sense then, the two of you off in your own little world.

But then Lydia’s calling for you and the moment is broken, and as you turn to answer her question, you fight the warmth that threatens to grow on your cheeks, for some reason embarrassed.

When you chance a glance back at Stiles, his attention is on Scott and your heart falls a little at the realization that whatever could’ve come from that moment; it’s gone now.

Part 39?

Tag List: @potterheadbbc - @sunsetblake - @mythicalamphitrite - @loverofwaytoomanythings618 - @minuteandahalf - @mnk - @gazebros - @colie87 - @quilliamfears - @quellum - @pessimisticbullshit - @kaylinfayezink - @maiabiovillage - @tr1chst3r - @arkcangel - @quirkytwinkles - @thegirlwhoimagined - @noones-girl1980 - @illumminated - @fairchild345 - @all-will-be-well-love - @animemes-trash - @starryrevelations - @literallyhelpme - @theskytraveler - @jinandtion1c - @ilovemymoose - @bibliophilesquared - @stilessarcasmqueen - @mersuperwholocked-lowlife - @newtsshelbys - @wyattgoleft - @pancakefancake - @saturno-in-the-night - @pizzamelon7384 - @riskregretting - @mdgrdians - @ravenclawnerdfromnarnia - @franchisefan14 - @lovingpeterparker - @audreysduvxl - @kararanae23 - @alioop3818 - @a-gir1-has-n0-name - @andyl394 - @sclestial - @jayymocha - @2ptonpt - @itsfangirlmendes- @deafeningmusicdetective - @alex–awesome–22 - @nicholerodz - @kellbell44- @serrahruby - @agentmarvel13 - @egg-in-a-spork - @nickigv - @vxidnik - @marvelousgab - @emmaleighrose- @danielag1969 - @digicharr - @shantayok - @cherry3bombshell - @thatprofessionalfangirl - @itsjaynebird - @grippleback-galaxy - @dafukbish - @randomfanfictiontime - @unicorn-sparkles123 - @sammyrenae68 - @myfanficlibrarium - @liveforthenight130318- @booknymph02 - @smileyouresopretty - @fionnthebandersnacc- @voidsarahh - @kal-pal - @darlingimmafangirl - @burningmusicmarchi - @celacaveremo - @maolhy71706 - @supernatural-kinda-girl - @wherever-life-takes-us - @natalien-92 - @letmebeyoursforever - @lonelyforeverlina - @parkerschurros - @seninjakitey - @runway-to-my-aid - @weirdowithnobeardo - @missleahlin - @your-typical-giggle - @wandascarlett - @multifandxm353

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daydreaming-away-reality · 4 years

Text

Song of the Siren [Part 7]

Liam Dunbar x Reader | ☁️ + 🌠 + ✨ | 1.4k | Siren!Reader

Based on Season 4, episode 11: A Promise to the Dead

[ Song of the Siren Masterlist ]

After Mason had left for the night, Liam finally pulled himself into bed. Something still felt unsettling even after getting the text from Scott that the deadpool was over.

Reaching out, he hesitated to turn off his lamp. Looking around, the dim room, he knew his supernatural senses would notice if anything were there. Reluctantly, he flicked the light off.

As he had suspected however, once the lights were out, his overactive imagination had a berserker stepping into his room. His breathing quickened.

“You’re not there,” he chanted. “You’re not there.”

As his heart rate rose, he panicked and flicked on his light. As expected, nothing but the sound of the rain falling outside.

At least until he heard the tapping on his window.

The boy felt his heart nearly stop. When he slowly moved out of bed, he soon recognized the figure and hurried to open his window.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered.

You brushed some of your wet hair aside and offered him a shy smile. “Can I come in?”

Liam nodded, ushering you in and quickly grabbed a towel to help you dry off. Moving you into the washroom, he averted his blue eyes as you shrugged off your hoodie.

“Did I scare you?” you asked, doing your best to drip everywhere. Slipping off your shoes, you took the towel and tried to dry your hair. Luckily you were still mostly dry - you only been out for a little bit. “I was worried when I heard your heart racing.”

“No, it wasn’t you,” Liam replied. His voice trailed off, like he didn’t want to elaborate.

You didn’t ask. You sensed his fear the moment you were outside his place.

“The deadpool is finally over,” you softly said. You looked down at your hand, remember the red that you washed away a while ago. Having been caught up in the battle, you didn’t even realize how much blood was on your hands. “...we’re almost safe.”

Liam peered at you, unable to grasp how you were feeling. Regardless, he knew that you needed someone as much as he did right now. Ever since he had become a werewolf, you had been there for him. He wanted to be there when you needed him too.

The anchor that everyone told him that he needed... perhaps you could be it.

His anchor.

“Can you... stay the night with me?” he shyly asked. He could feel his cheeks heating up. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Yeah, Liam, of course.”

Your sweet smile greeted him as you reached over and held his hand.

“Honestly, I was going to ask you the same thing.”

The beta seemed to have brightened up in your presence. Once you had finished drying off, the two of you headed back into his room. Once Liam had made himself comfortable, you crawled in to his bed to lie down next to him.

The lights were turned out.

For a moment, everything was quiet. Deciding to make things more comfortable for the both of you, Liam reached out to hold you. Surprised but happy, you snuggled into his arms.

“I’ve dreamed about being with you,” Liam confessed. “I really like you, (Y/N).”

“I like you too,” you replied.

Liam pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

Without trying, you knew the two of you had fallen for each other. Being comfortable in the moment, you pushed aside the dread that was creeping up on you and tried to enjoy what you could.

The sound of your call connecting brought you a sense of relief.

“Hey Scott,” you greeted.

“Hey, (Y/N),” your best friend responded. “What’s up?”

“Happy to hear your voice,” you responded, walking slowly towards your car. “I had an ominous feeling earlier, just doing a follow up.”

There was a pause. Scott knew that your hunches were more than what you let on. Your ability to sense trouble was almost like Lydia’s ability to predict death.

“The deadpool is over,” Scott murmured. “Do you think it’s Kate? The berserkers?”

“Maybe,” you said. You glanced back to the house you had left from. “Could you check in on Liam when you can? He seems like he’s a bit traumatized by his last encounter with the berserkers.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” There was a chuckle, you could hear the smile on Scott’s face when he commented, “So, you and Liam, huh?”

“He’s a sweet boy,” you replied. “I like him... Probably more than I going to admit to you.”

Scott laughed. “Alright. I got to go, (Y/N). See you around?”

“See you around,” you echoed before hanging up.

Standing between your car and Liam’s house, you wondered how long it would take for things to finally be a peace.

Time passed you by rather quickly as you had been trying to decipher your unsettling feelings about the impending future. Besides texting Liam to check up on him, you had been a little distant with your friends since the morning with your phone call with Scott.

Malia didn’t seem to mind too much as she grabbed you when she had saw you and sat you down next to her on the bleachers. Tonight was going to be the first game for nationals against Devonford Prep, that wasn’t something either of you were going to be missing.

“Hello (Y/N),” Sheriff Stilinski greeted you.

“Oh, hi!” you replied. “Excited for the game?”

“Stiles should be playing, so, yes,” he responded with a chuckle. “Glad to see his bench warming days are over.”

You offered him a smile. What he said was true... Watching lacrosse while your best friends were on the bench was kind of boring.

Shooting a message, 🍀, to Scott, you frowned when you saw the message didn’t go through. The boys locker room didn’t have that bad signal did it?

Sending the same message to Stiles and Liam, you were at least notified with Stiles left you on read and Liam sent you, have you heard from Scott or Kira?

You responded with a quick, no.

Where were Scott and Kira?

With both team coming out to the field, you cast your eyes to see if you could see their familiar numbers.

Leaning in towards Malia, you whispered, “Do you smell Scott or Kira?”

Malia breathed in and then shook her head.

“Nothing,” she said. A frown reached her face. “I haven’t seen either of them all day.”

You grimly nodded.

The sound of a whistle blew. The game was about to start.

With the game looking dire for Beacon Hills, along with no signs of Kira or Scott, you could see that Stiles was getting just as worried as you were.

That could only mean Liam was growing concerned as well.

Stiles slipped over, moving towards his dad.

“Hey,” he greeted. “I haven’t heard anything from Scott, I think we should see if we can find him or Kira anywhere.”

“Alright,” Sheriff Stilinski agreed.

“Should I come too?” Malia asked.

“No, just enjoy the game,” Stiles replied. “(Y/N), you too.”

“Keep in touch,” you reminded him. “Please.”

Stiles nodded before heading off with his dad.

Watching them go, you tried to turn your attention back to the game at hand. Liam was on the field.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you murmured to Malia.

She awkwardly pat your arm. “Yeah, I know.”

Redirecting your attention to Liam, you could sense the fear radiating off of him as he stood on the field frozen. Your heart went out to him. Whatever he was experiencing now gave off the same vibes as the night you had sneaked into his room.

“Liam, for the love of god, move!” Coach yelled.

Liam’s figure stayed there as the Devonford Prep players ran by him and scored another goal.

“I have to do something about this,” you sighed, getting up. Moving towards the Devonford Prep players, you spotted the number that you were looking for. Tapping them on their shoulder, you offered them a small smile. “Brett, good to see you’re doing well.”

Brett offered you a confused look. “Something up?”

You tilted your head in the direction of Liam before reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Do you smell that? Do you think you could do something about it?”

Brett’s nose wrinkled in annoyance at the scent.

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”

Your smile brightened. “Thank you, Brett.”

The boy watched you as walked away from the field. He had seen the connection between you and Liam. Looking back at the field, he shook his head.

Liam was a lucky guy.

Tag list:

@muse-sprayberry, @thebookisbtr, @thebeautifulbookworm

#teen wolf #liam dunbar imagine #liam dunbar imagines #liam dunbar x reader #liam #dunbar #liam dunbar #x reader #reader insert #imagine #imagines #Siren!Reader #siren reader #Song Of The Siren #part 7

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formenis · 3 years

Text

Investigation

Anon asked: “ Can you do a one-shot of the task force showing up at HQ to see a playpen with a baby playing in it and they just assume that L kidnapped a baby and start demanding answers and L tells them it's his baby and his wife is busy working another case so he gets to watch the baby”

Of course~ I adore Dad!L♥ Anyway, sorry if you find mistakes, English is not my first language.

warnings: none

requested: yes

C/A = child alias

W/A = wife alias

H/T = hair texture

H/C = hair colour

Tokyo in august could be so damn hot and humid and Misa realised it very soon. Since she was announced as starring in director Nishinaka's newest movie, her agenda was full of appointments and the high temperatures weren't helping her in focusing on her work. Hopefully it would be over soon meaning she could go at L's HQ to see Light.

«Today could be a hot day but nothing is hotter than my Light~» she said dreamily out loud during the shot.

«What did you say, Misa Misa?» Matsuda, or "Matsui" when he was with her, played as her manager when she wasn’t at the HQ and it seemed he enjoyed it more than his actual job as a detective.

«Nothing Matsu…»

♰ TIME SKIP, AT L'S HQ ♰

«Finally, some fresh air» Misa sighed in relief once inside the building. She was still followed by Matsuda but they soon would split apart since he had to go to the monitoring room with the task force and the blonde girl wanted to relax in one of the many lounges (and maybe reading some magazines).

They were going to walk in two separated directions when they saw Watari at the end of the corridor with a big package.

«Have you noticed it, Matsu?»

«The fact that both Ryuzaki and Watari are acting strange these days? Yeah, it's hard not to notice it» and if someone like Matsuda noticed it, it must be pretty obvious then. It was true: recently, the greatest detective in the world and his supplier of logistics were so out of character. They would talk about toys, coloured pencils and bath tubs. It was quite strange thou.

«I wonder what's inside that box…»

«Let's go ask him, Misa Misa» Matsuda suggested with too much enthusiasm.

«No Matsu! Watari will never tell us…we have to investigate»

And with that, their personal investigation started. Matsuda and Misa discreetly followed Watari around the headquarters with this large package in his hands. They noticed he had a sort of big cross body bag full of something. Could they be L's new purchases? Or was L planning something unaware of the entire task-force?

Watari entered a room and the door closed behind him almost immediately, leaving Matsuda and Misa behind a corner. They were so focused in spying Watari that they didn't notice someone not far from them.

«Matsuda! Misa! What are you doing?» it was Aizawa, the detective with black hair and dark brown eyes, he was depicted as a tall man with a large afro. In that moment he was looking at them with a frown on his tired face.

«Ah! Aizawa-san!» Misa jumped in fear and hid behind Matsuda.

«Matsuda…why are you here and not in the monitoring room? We have a case to solve…you're first a detective» Aizawa scolded him as if he was a disobedient child. The younger man sighed in defeat realising he was right but Misa didn't quite agree.

«Wait Aizawa! We're solving a case actually!» the blonde idol came out from behind Matsuda and stood for herself.

«Really?» the other detective replied sceptically. «About what? Matsuda's lack of interest in the Kira case?» he crossed his arms waiting for a satisfying answer.

Misa was going to reply when she heard a sound coming from the room where Watari was. She peeked from behind the corner and saw the old man walking away from said room without the huge package and the cross body bag.

«Now Matsu!» she exclaimed and rushed before the door would close again. Matsuda followed her immediately while Aizawa stood there confused.

«Wait you two!» he joined them shortly after that.

The three of them ran towards the door and entered abruptly inside. After a whole minute of silence Misa started to complain. «There's nothing here!»

«Can we come back to work now?» Aizawa sighed and turned to leave the room when suddenly they heard a loud thud behind them followed by a baby cry. At first, they exchanged a concerned look then turned around at the same time.

And there it was: a dark purple baby playpen with a child inside. The sound they heard came from a toy that fell outside the "cage" and the baby was crying because they couldn’t reach it with their tiny hands.

«Aww! So cuuuute!» she took the toy and returned it to the baby. «Here sweetie~». Now that she was closer she could take a good look at them: H/T, H/C hair, puffy cheeks and two big black eyes; the baby wore a light blue romper suit with white clouds on it.

The kid took the toy from Misa's hands but his eyes stared at her with curiosity. For some reason, that baby reminded her of Ryuzaki.

«Why there's a baby here?»

«Except for you, Aizawa, nobody has children here…» Matsuda pointed out looking at his colleague.

The three of them were still talking about the baby that they didn't notice someone else entered the room.

«What's happening here?» the voice of Soichiro interrupted Matsuda and Aizawa's conversation. The Police Chief examined carefully the room in search for the source of that confusion and gasped loudly when he saw the child.

«A baby?!»

«What baby, Chief?» Mogi, not far from Soichiro, was the last one to enter the room and he had the same reaction of Yagami-san at the sight of the kid. «Aizawa, is he your son?»

«What-No! My son is a bit older than this one»

Now that the task-force was reunited, they proposed so many theories to justify the presence of that child: was he Watari's grandson? Or was he L's little brother? They even suggested he was related to Misa but she denied it.

In the meantime, the idol had eyes only for the kid. She was observing him playing inside the playpen with many toys: dolls, jigsaws, games of strategy or logic and plushes. He had a lot of paper sheets and coloured pencils scattered around him too.

«Can you talk, sweetie?» she asked him maybe too much hopefully. He was two years old (or maybe less) and it was very likely that he didn't talk at all.

The baby boy looked away from his toys to stare at her; he then pulled the pacifier off his mouth. «Yes» he surprisingly replied with a voice that melted Misa's heart.

«My name is Misa, what's yours?»

The child mumbled something like C/A [child alias] melting even more her heart for the cuteness. Misa started to draw and play with him, she was so in love with that kid. Maybe she was imagining her child with Light in that moment.

«Guys! I got it!» Matsuda uttered out from nowhere making everyone jump in surprise. «Now everything is clear!»

«What is clear?» Mogi asked sceptically him.

«Since Ryuzaki wants to catch Kira at all costs, he wants to use this kid for the investigations. Like he is doing with Misa!»

«Don't say such nonsense, Matsuda. Are you suggesting Ryuzaki…» Soichiro stopped himself mid-sentence maybe not able to imagine someone like L doing what he was thinking.

«That Ryuzaki kidnapped this kid!» Matsuda ended Soichiro's phrases with no hesitation. He seemed quite convinced about his reasoning.

However, his colleagues were not convinced as him. Nonetheless, they admitted L was someone capable of extreme measures in order to achieve a certain result. Maybe Matsuda was not wrong after all.

«I can't conceive the fact that Ryuzaki kidnapped this little boy» Soichiro said thoughtfully while observing the child now in Misa's arms. When he approached the boy, his gaze softened. «Hello little one»

C/A looked at Soichiro and the first thing he did was to touch his moustaches. It was followed by a loud laugh maybe because they tickled his hand. Shortly after that, C/A wanted to grab Soichiro's glasses but he ended up dirtying them.

«There's only a way to find the truth, Chief» Aizawa told him with his usual serious voice tone. «Let's go ask Ryuzaki»

♰ MEANWHILE ♰

The greatest detective L was looking at many screens at the same time, absorbing tons of different information all at once. He was going to lick the chocolate from a donut when he saw something alarming with the corner of his eye: the playpen was empty.

He quickly called Watari to ask him why C/A was not in his temporary room. From the screens he could see his mentor enter the room and check the playpen; Watari calmed L down by telling him that the task-force must have discovered the room and now they were playing with him somewhere in the building.

«What's going on, Ryuzaki?» Light asked him quite worried. He noticed how agitated L was but he couldn’t figure out the reason. Let's not forget they were handcuffed together.

L was going to call everyone in the monitoring room when he heard the main door being thrusted open with force. Then someone span his chair.

«Ryuzaki! We need an explanation!»

«Misa-san, I don’t have time for this-» he looked past her and saw C/A in Soichiro's arms while playing with his moustaches. L rushed towards him picking C/A up. Once in the greatest detective's arms, the baby relaxed immediately and placed the head on the shoulder.

«Is it true that you kidnapped this kid to use him in the investigations?» Matsuda asked swiftly feeling really determined.

L (and Light too) sighed frustrated, not expecting smart thoughts from him. He was going to scold him when C/A started to pull his white shirt mumbling something.

«What is it, C/A?» L asked in his usual monotone voice. However, when near that baby, his voice would become warmer and gentler even though the task-force didn’t notice it.

The baby didn’t reply, it seemed he just wanted L's attention. The two of them were in their own personal bubble and the task-force was staring at them in disbelief: what was happening in front of them?

«It seems you need an explanation, as Misa-san said before» L started to say and according to the many nods he heard, they were eager to know. «I didn’t kidnap this child, of course. He is my son, C/A»

«Whaaaat?!» Misa's reaction summed up perfectly what the task-force was feeling: confusion, bewilderment and doubt. If Soichiro couldn’t imagine someone like L kidnapping a baby, the fact that he had a son was even more incredible for him.

«Why didn’t you tell us before?» Soichiro asked him both curious and upset after a long silence.

«Because it's not relevant for the investigations, Yagami-san» L replied frankly while looking at him with his dull black eyes.

«Does he have a mother?» it was Aizawa's turn to ask, since he was more sensitive about family.

«Of course he has, she's my wife»

«Are you married, Ryuzaki?» Light was in disbelief as everyone else in the room.

«That's what I said, Light-kun»

Misa, being…Misa, started to squeal with her usual high-pitched voice. She wanted to know every detail about his wife, how and when they met, their marriage, the pregnancy and so on. Of course L didn’t tell much details, his usual answer at Misa's questions was «Classified information». What the task-force understood was that L's wife, W/A, was an important agent that had the task to solve the most delicate cases around the world (much like him more or less). Moreover, both Soichiro and Mogi noticed how L would smile more while talking about her or C/A, he seemed truly in love with his family and this small detail revealed a rare and intimate part of L's personality.

«You didn’t tell us why C/A is here, Ryuzaki» Light pointed out while the baby was playing in his lap.

«W/A is solving a case in Europe so I have to take care of him» the detective picked the baby up from Light's lap carefully. He didn’t really like that his son was so close to the first suspect of the Kira case.

«Hey, I wanted to play with C/A…»

«It's dinner time for him, Light-kun» L stood up from his metallic chair and started to walk away from the room, followed closely by Light. «Watch carefully, you can learn something for the future» he teased the young boy.

«Ryuzaki!»

#death note #death note headcanons #death note scenario #death note request #l lawliet #l x reader #l x you #l x y/n #dad L

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uhhhhyandere · 4 years

Text

heheheehehehe

no wedding yet. I really do be messing with the plot a lot, and making it when i shouldn’t but... i can’t help myself. ;p

it’s totally true that light can be the sweetest person in order to convince anyone, and i exploit that like a bitch. as always, writing for fun, not perfection!!

word count: 5.4k

“I’ve been seeing you a lot more.” Rose mixed her drink with the spoon, but her eyes were happily trained on you. “It’s a good thing! Don’t get me wrong. You surprised me when you called to meet up. Usually, it’s me, then you say we’ll see, then you call me back later. It’s a nice change of pace when you call, but I know you’re busy with wedding planning and being happy.” You crossed your legs, slipping your hands under your thighs to warm them up from the ice of your own drink.

“I think it’s probably because when the amount of stress in my life tripled is when I realized I need a break,” is what you said, and what Light told you to say if you were ever questioned on why you were suddenly so social after he allowed you the freedom to leave without permission. Perhaps he was finally tired of the calls throughout the day while he was working, or maybe there was a semblance of trust beginning to form. That, or he finally noticed that you were beginning to fester in the confines of your home and wants your spirit to lift once more, which is all the more amusing to you that he may think that would be feasible.

“Well, I don’t know how much I can do to help. I mean, I’m sure Light’s doing his part, right?” You laughed.

“Plenty.”

“Then, do you need anything at all? From me? Or mom?” As pins and needles in your hands began to spread, you removed them and stretched them out on top of your thighs.

“Can you tell me about your life?”

“Huh?”

“Your life. You know. Sato, your new apartment. Your sex life. I don’t care. Anything. Everything. I just need to look into someone’s life that isn’t my own,” because frankly, you were worried Light had something up his sleeve, and you knew, you knew, you would only bring yourself more misery if you drowned yourself in your thoughts. Your sister leaned back in the cushion and smiled to herself.

“Well, it was our three months last week. Nothing compared to you, but it was nice. I’ve never been the one for… commitment, really, but—I don’t know—seeing you and Light, it makes me think that ‘Yeah I want that,’ and it’s a nice change to hookups.” She cut herself off. Her eyes stuck on a crack in the wall below the window. With her lips parted, she sighed, and a sudden sadness fell onto her face. Her fingers played with the wood of the table for a few moments before she opened her mouth to speak again. “Sorry, I was just thinking about Oliver. Reminds me of him.”

“What does, specifically?”

“Commitment. He slept around so much in college, but, when he settled back in the US and met his partner, it was like he changed. That connection, he felt it immediately, and, right when he was brave enough to take the next step…” Rose wiped beneath her eyes, being careful to avoid the mascara on her bottom lashes. It seemed that her eyes were only watering though. “Well, you know.” Yes, you did. “I’m scared. What if I find that and then it’s just… taken away from me? It’s easy when there’s no feelings involved.” She shook her head and hid her mouth behind her hand. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be distracting you from the stress, but I’m just adding to it.”

You allowed the table to fall into silence. Every time you’ve seen Rose since Light gifted your freedom, there was a small, small voice in the back of your mind that told you to tell Rose the truth. Sometimes just parts of it, but you knew that you couldn’t unwrap a small piece without, over time, exposing it all. Even so, what harm could Rose really do with that information? She’s never ceased her devotion to Kira, and you remember it was a defining factor in Sato when she started talking to him. Would she see Kira different knowing he is not some omnipotent god descended from wherever to distribute justice on the human world? Losing her belief was too much of a risk in exchange for information she didn’t need to know.

Information she deserved to know.

“Double date.”

“What?”

“Why don’t you and Sato and me and Light just go for dinner or something? I don’t know him well, and it might be a good idea to try. I mean, when I get stuck up in the past, I try to appreciate the present by doing something. I think it’s what they all would want.” Lying comes too easy. Little did she know the dead you thought of most likely wanted you as dead as them, and, wherever Misa was, you were sure she wanted the same.

“They all?”

“Huh?”

“You said they all, as in plural.” You shook your head.

“Oh, yeah. Well, Light’s dad, coworkers he’s had who have passed, Oliver.” She folded her hands over mouth.

“I completely forgot. I—you’re right. We should set that up. Soon, and I mean soon. As in this weekend or the next? I know Light’s schedule is insane, and yours, too, with the wedding. Oh, and I’ll tell Sato that Light is okay with our beliefs, so there’s no issue there. You know, with Kira.” You shook your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. It was my idea. He makes his own schedule most of the time unless something particularly nasty comes up. I’m sure that he’ll be free. He tries for weekends off but… he’s a workaholic.” Rose laughed into the brim of her cup.

“Sounds like him. I’m sure Sato will be free too.”

“What does he do, if I may ask?”

“Oh, he’s a lawyer. He used to be a public defender, but now he’s moved to elder law since Kira first appeared.” She paused. “You know, I think that he could use it too. His stepbrother died a while back, and he looked up to him like they were blood brothers.” You nodded. “Speaking of which,” she raised her wrist, “I told Sato that I would meet him after his appointment to go to that—um—botanical garden, I think? I don’t know. I’m excited.” You watched her hurry to collect herself. “Are you coming?” You shook your head.

“No, I think I’ll stay for a bit,” you checked your own watch, “Light won’t be home for a little while anyway. You go have fun. Let this chained old hag stay here.” Rose scoffed.

“’Chained old hag’, my younger sister who is planning the best day of her life says. Call me when you talk to Light and we can set up that date. Bye! Love you!” By the time she was wishing you well, she was halfway towards the door. You smiled to yourself. No, you would keep her in blissful ignorance despite what she deserves. It only added to your list of shit deeds. Nothing new.

You dug into your back pocket and pulled out your cell phone you turned off for the duration of your coffee date and decided you would leave it that way. You could people-watch for the next half hour. Hell, you probably could for the next five hours and not even know. You could hardly remember the last time you had watched the passersby with no worries, or at least, with all of your worries suppressed to normalcy.

With each one that passed, you grew more and more envious. Though every person had problems, stressors, issues, you were sure that you would trade anything to have the struggles they are having, so blissfully unaware of the reality that is around them. How easy it was for them to simply perish from this world in forty seconds, and they didn’t even know. Too busy worrying about exams and deadlines to even care. You released a shaky breath and thought about how you would do anything to have calculus be your biggest problem.

Too little, too late. The time for self-pity has long passed. Still, you permitted yourself some time to wallow for the sake of “self-care.” To cry against the headrest of the coffee shop chair until it was three minutes passed the time you wanted to leave was a fine enough method. It gave you enough time to fix yourself so Light would never know the difference.

Though, he was nowhere to be found as you walked into your house. The only indication he was home was the muffled movement from the floor above. Before you moved to go up the stairs, the number of objects on your kitchen counter drew your attention. Multiple white binders with swatches of silk sticking out from the edges, different plastic flowers, multiple—.

“Oh my fucking god,” you muttered, dread dropping into your core like an anchor. You had a fucking meeting with your wedding planner today. You ripped your phone from your pocket a finally turned it on. Fifteen text messages. Eight calls. You were dead. You dropped the device onto the counter in order to cup your face with your hands and groan.

“Oh, nice of you to come home.”

“Light, I am—I don’t—I don’t know—.” He shushed you with an open palm. Your hands linked on the edge of the counter behind your back. Biting your lip, you kept your eyes on him, ready to take whatever he was planning to give. Light sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Stop looking at me like a wounded dog. I haven’t even said anything yet. When I allowed you your freedom, I didn’t mean to free your head from your brain either. I looked like a fool with her after calling you eight times. She asked me if everything was okay between us, if we were fighting. Do you know how annoying and more importantly embarrassing for me it was? Have you ever, for once, used your brain for anything outside of what is in front of you? Where were you, anyway? With your sister, again?” Light scoffed. “No wonder your head isn’t working as well as it used to.”

“Rose is not stupid.”

“She’s certainly not intelligent. Why have you sought her out so much, anyway? If there’s something wrong, you should be talking to me. She may be your sister, and she may think she knows what may be going on, but she never will. Rose can never bring you any comfort when she’s so in the dark. The only person who knows, who can bring you a semblance of peace, is me.” You clenched your teeth.

“Then why not tell her, then? Everything.” He scowled and a single brow rose in challenge. “She deserves to know at least how our brother and father died.” Your throat clenched, but you remained steadfast. They always say tears is how you convince someone of anything, but tears were only a sign of weakness to Light. He sighed, shoulders falling. Closing the space in between you, he brought his hand to delicately cup your jaw.

“The guilt is eating at you again. Y/N, if you decided to tell her that, you would need to tell her everything. You would risk losing all connection with her, just as your brother did when you told him.” He leaned in so his lips began to trail up your jaw, across your cheek, and towards your ear. “Not to mention the potential obstacle it could pose to me, and you know I don’t hesitate when it comes to anything that could stand in my way.” He placed a small kiss behind your ear. “Is that something you are willing to risk in order to alleviate your guilt? Is it really worth it?” His hand that was on your jaw traced up your cheek, fingernails lightly dragging across your skin. He tucked your hair behind your ear and moved his face, so he was looking directly into your eyes again. “I won’t waste my breath telling you what to do. By now, you should already know, which is why you have this freedom in the first place because you know better.” With a sigh, he retracted, leaving only his hand in your hair. “Still, should you decide to do something stupid, I won’t think twice before cleaning up your mess. Decide if you’re ready to go through that again.

He took his hand back and walked around to begin to stifle through the binders. Turning around, you helped him spread them all across the counter and the table.

“What did I miss?” Your voice was quiet, still nervous to tempt out a side of him you didn’t want to see. Light’s eyes jumped around the binders.

“You’re lucky we didn’t need to make any decisions today. I brought home everything. Color swatches, food options, flowers, music, venues, cake, everything,” You sighed. “Not to mention dresses.”

“Please don’t even mention it. I’ve always been more of a jumpsuit kind of person.” He met your eyes briefly. “I-I mean in general! No, I’ll be wearing the big, whitey giant. Just don’t even know where to start, and not just that, with everything. It’s so much. Do we even have a budget in mind yet?” He shook his head.

“Money shouldn’t be a problem.” You furrowed your brows, but he said it as easy as someone who was talking about the weather. “What? Don’t look so mystified. As long as we don’t decide to make this a royal wedding and invite the Queen, we don’t have any foreseeable problems.” In your time since you quit your job, you realized that you haven’t thought about money at all. It wasn’t really an issue that was… “in front of your face.” You scowled as Light’s statement replayed in your head. You used his card if you went anywhere or bought anything, and yet you haven’t even thought to check the bank statement.

By god, you were turning into a trophy wife. Maybe, if you knew what that really was. Whatever you were turning into, it didn’t settle right in your stomach.

“Then we should decide the vibe.”

“The… vibe,” he repeated skeptically.

“Yeah. Do we want it to be rustic, or classy and formal? Or modern? Minimalistic? Classic? I don’t know. Then we could decide colors to go along with the theme, and then flowers would follow. We work from the outside in. We just need to figure out the attendance before picking a venue. Then the date. Then—yikes, this is a lot.” You ran a hand through your hair. “Do you care?”

“What do you mean, ‘do I care?’”

“I mean, I don’t know. Sometimes guys are like ‘I don’t care,’ and—I don’t know I watch a lot of TLC and HGTV.” Light brought a hand to your waist and pulled you into his side. He rolled his head in your direction.

“Do you really think I am anything like those guys on TV?” You pushed his head away.

“Yeah, sorry. Stupid question. So, what about—.”

“Formal.”

“Huh?”

“The ‘vibe.’ Formal.” His fingers drummed against your hip. You shouldn’t be too surprised he would want it to be professional and classy given he’s been dressing for his job since high school. Though, if you wanted to pose an argument, could you? Not that you minded the formal idea, but maybe your freedom has given you some of your courage back to test your limits.

“What about rustic? Like country-side.”

“You expect me to be married in a barn?”

“Rustic does not mean getting married in a barn,” you laughed. “It’s what I’ve always imagined my wedding would look like. Maybe a sunflower field or horses. Outside under a huge oak tree on a summer day.” A smile grew on your face picturing it, but as Light remained silent, it fell into a pensive frown. Your brother would have walked you up the aisle. “Though, I guess nothing has really turned out as I’ve imagined.” Whatever moment of courage flared in you moments before died. “Formal is fine. Then the colors should coincide.”

“Gold and black.” You grinned quietly.

“Yeah, that’s—um—on theme. It’s-it’s good. I’m going to go get a pen and paper to write this all down. I think there are notebooks in the drawer in the closet.” You tore away from his side and sped to the closet. Shutting the door behind you, you released your wet and shaking breaths in the darkness of the small space. Warm tears spilled down your cheeks, and you laughed because you had no idea why you were even crying. Still, you wrapped your arms around yourself and silently squeezed your eyes shut to push them all out. The door opened behind you, flooding the closet with light. “I’m sorry. I s-swear I’m not crying. I’m not I’m—.”

Arms wrapped around your own. Gently, he guided you to move them to allow his own to take their place. He nudges his head to slot between your neck and shoulder, but he, for once, does not say anything. He need not to. This was to comfort you, sure, but you knew better to think it was a sign of care. He had to do this. To be his true, ugly self all the time would simply eradicate the pretty picture he paints that distracts you from reality. Light had to convince you that there was something there that was not twisted, raw possession. Maybe there was a time it would have genuinely worked too, but the time has long passed. All there was left to do was believe in the known lie that this was love.

And that went both ways. What you felt towards him… you called it love, but even that would be too simple. Fear. Hate. Loneliness. Were they parts of love as well? If so, then maybe love was the right word. It had to be. You couldn’t be marrying a man you hated, that you feared. You had to love him. That was the only… it was the truth. All those years, you did. You’ve loved him all this time. It was the truth. You loved him. You would pledge the rest of your life to him. That was the truth. It was. It was it was it was it was it was it was it was—.

“I love you, Light.” A kiss to your neck was your only answer.

No more planning was done that day. Once your tears dried, Light led you to the bathroom upstairs by hand in silence. You followed his footsteps as he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and stepped back into the space of the bedroom. Your eyes followed his form as he opened the drawer in the dresser and placed yours and his pajamas on top. He changed himself first, unbothered by your shameless staring. Then, he turned to you.

With unmatched gentility, he gripped the hem of your shirt and slowly brought it up to your abdomen. You rose your arms to help him disrobe it. He walked around you and unsnapped your bra, throwing it alongside your shirt. Back in your view, Light motioned for you to raise your arms, and he slid your long pajama shirt down your body. Before moving to your lower body, you stepped back and discarded them yourselves and put on your own bottoms. There was a small smile on Light’s face as you turned back to him.

Despite it being the early evening, you both settled in next to each other on the bed. Light reached for the remote and began playing a movie you both had already saw from a time far different. You did not question a single thing as you nuzzled into his embrace. The warmth of his body was no lie even if the lips that sought yours were. The kisses were long. They were short. They were deep. They were shallow. They were consuming. They were fluttering. They were right. With his hand behind your head, Light devoured you, but he did no more. He did not move to your neck. His hands did not deviate below your shoulders. His show was… real. It was. When he would push far, he would filter back to shallow. When his teeth nipped too hard, his tongue would follow to soothe the pain. It was all him. His taste. His scent.

He did not do this to Misa, to Takada. This was for you. You were his. No one else could have ever said so and told the truth. You smiled into the next kiss, turning your head to take him deeper. For all the fighting, the confidence those women had that he was theirs, and where are they now? Where has their confidence gotten them? Burned. Removed. Gone, yet here you were, alive. In a game you never wanted to play but was the front runner, you won. They got themselves killed or wherever they are. It was the truth. It was. Lips parting from his for air, you let yourself immerse into the brown of his eyes. Chests rising and falling together, breaths intermingled, this was right. It was. This was the God of the New World, and this was Light Yagami.

It was.

“Gold and black,” you said. “With hints of purple.”

“A double date?” You stared up at him the next morning, head nestled into the cusp of his arm and shoulder. “With your sister and her boyfriend?” You nodded.

“Impulsive idea, but it’ll look good when she tells my cousins and everyone. PR, you know? Not that you don’t already have a lot with my family who hasn’t even met you, but she talks to them a lot. Might help the day of. Might not, but… I would appreciate it. Her boyfriend is a lawyer.”

“Oh?” You nodded.

“His step-brother was too, but he died. We think. He’s missing, but he thinks that he’s dead. Well, that’s what Rose told me, anyway.” You fiddled with the fabric of his shirt that lied over his chest.

“What is his name?”

“Sato.” When you look back up again, Light was hyper-focused on the ceiling. “Do you know him?” He scoffed, moving his hand that was near your back to come forth and flick you in the forehead. You lost your head cushion in the process as he moves to get up. “She wants to set it up this or next weekend, if you’re free.” Light’s muscles flex as he stretches.

“Saturday is fine.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll call Rose, then.”

The restaurant was one you had heard of many times but haven’t had the chance to go to yet. It was a more casual setting, but it was packed. However, Light used his magic to get a booth in the far corner. You slid next to him. “I don’t know how you do this.”

“When will they be here? I don’t like to wait for people.” Thoughts of your forgotten wedding planning appointment sail through your mind.

“Rose is always late, but she’ll show.” Light hummed in response and pulled at his jacket sleeves. It was only five minutes before you saw your sister happily heading towards your table, a stressed man of her age following behind. You and Light rose to greet her with a hug that you knew Light hated.

“Hi, Y/N. Light! It’s been so long. How are you?”

“I’m alright. How are you?”

“Amazing. Anyway, Y/N, Light, this is Sato.” You did a double-take at Light’s expression but shook it off as you greeted him. “I’ve told him a lot so, don’t be surprised of how much he knows of you two.”

“All good things,” Sato reassured. The four of you sat at the booth, and the waiter was immediately present to ask for drinks. “Though, it is great to meet the brilliant Light Yagami. Your work on that missing persons case was astounding. Who would have thought to connect the sister to the missing luggage and the misplaced car? I read over the case file.” Light smiled and laughed.

“Thank you. I try not to talk too much work outside of it, but that was a nasty case.” Rose groaned.

“We get it. You’re smart, Light. We know.” The waiter returned briefly with the beverages. “You’re lucky that you’re nice, or else I would have beat you up in college.”

“College?”

“Light, Y/N, and I are all alumni of To-Oh, though they’re both a few years younger than me.” Sato looked impressed at the three of you. “It’s where their love blossomed.” You shook your head and hid your face behind your sleeve. “Don’t get embarrassed, Y/N! It’s true. Anyway, Light, what are you up to these days anyway? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Wedding planning. Work. Nothing unusual, except maybe the wedding planning. That’s not really usual, is it?” Light laughed. Silence followed as you all scrutinized the menu. Light leaned over to you. “Do you want to split this?” Your normal answer would be absolutely not, but the gleam in his eye was unmistakable. Without even looking at the menu item, you nodded. “Alright.” The waiter returned to take the orders before leaving once again. “So, you’re a lawyer?”

“Yes! I used to be a criminal lawyer and did public defense here and there, but I’ve moved to elder law. A lot less stressful for the most part.” Your fiancé leaned forward, placing his chin in his palm.

“I see. Why the switch, if I may ask?”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Criminals are dealt with without much help from lawyers. There’s a bigger force than judges and courts casting justice. Staying in the business is just financial suicide, especially with crime down the way it is.” Sato’s face fell. “My step-brother too. He was a criminal lawyer, but he disappeared a while ago. He was my biggest influence growing up. Couldn’t get a case without it reminding me of him, so I switched as well.” Light’s eyes did not move from his own.

“That’s a shame. I’m sorry. I lost my father as well, and Y/N and Rose lost their brother, but that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? The dead wouldn’t want us to cease our lives because of them. I know my father wouldn’t, at least.” Sato nodded.

“Same for Mikami.”

…What?

Light leaned back in the booth. It was nothing to Rose and Sato, but to you, it said mission accomplished. He crossed his arms and gave you only a second-long glance before focusing back on the company. You, though, you were choking on air and frozen to your seat. Though you’ve never met Mikami, having only seen him outside of the warehouse that… day, Light told you about him, and about he was almost the reason for his death should your father and you not been involved.

“…Y/N. Y/N!” Rose’s shrill voice cut you from your thoughts. “Thought we lost you there. Something on your mind?” You shook your head and laughed nervously. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you dared not look at Light.

“No, sorry. Wedding things. What were we talking about?”

“I was talking about my step-brother and Light’s dad. Both of them were men of justice. I could see where you get your motivation and talent from then. Having your father as chief of police must have been a strong pull in the criminal justice path.”

“And your brother. He sounded like a good man.” Sato shrugged, scratching his nose with the crook of his finger.

“Yes, he was. He’s one of the main reasons I believe in what I believe in today. He loved Kira. Worshipped him, and when he died, I started to think the same. There was foul play in my brother’s disappearance, and I just hope that Kira has brought them to justice.” Your fists clenched under the table. Light placed a soft hand on your shaking fist and tightened his grip as you refused to loosen yours. “There’s simply no evidence. He was doing nothing different. Acting the same. Then one day he moved plans because he had somewhere he had to be. Then he was just gone.” Light’s hand was at the point of hurting your own, so you finally loosened your fist. He still did not let go.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Sato.”

“Has it crossed your desk, Light?” Rose asked. “Sorry. You’re with the NPA, so I thought maybe you would have seen it.” Light shook his head.

“When was this again?”

“January. A little more than a year ago.”

“It must have been around the time… something happened.” Oh, around the time you watched his brother and all your ‘friends’ die? Light must have sensed your discomfort and moved his hand from yours to grasp your thigh and rub back and forth. “It was a rough patch for me. I took off a lot of time then.”

“Oh, I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I remember I didn’t see either of you until the funeral, and even after…”

“Please, forget we said anything.” Sato finished for her. Light smiled and waved him off with his free hand.

“It’s fine. You didn’t know. Still, I can look into your brother and see what I can pull. If I can help you find closure, then I’ll do my best.” With an earnest voice and an award-winning smile, he even had this man he just met looking at him like he had a halo and wings.

“I… really appreciate it. I can’t believe you’re actually as nice as they say. You know, sometimes highly accredited detectives can be… dicks. Thank you,” Sato’s gaze turned to you, “and congratulations to you both! I forgot to say before.” You grinned politely but could not speak.

“Ah, thank you. We’re still in early planning process, but we’re getting there.” He nudged you with his shoulder, and once again you grinned politely. “Anyway, how did you two meet? I hate to just talk about ourselves, though I can go on forever…”

You hardly spoke through the dinner, only responding when you were directly addressed. It was a good thing Light and you split a meal, as you couldn’t stomach more than a few bites. Light would squeeze your thigh when you had to respond. For the rest of the time, you were zoned out, focused on the cracks in the table, the movement of the servers, and anything else but the interaction between Light and everyone’s brother’s murderer. When it was getting too obvious your attention was purposely away from the table, you played with Light’s fingers that were on your thigh until Light offered to handle the bill and you were on your feet wishing your goodbyes.

“Are you okay?” Rose whispered as you hugged. Wordlessly, you nodded. “How are you, really?” You sighed.

“I’m fine. I promise.” You glanced to her boyfriend and your fiancé who both waited for the two of you. “Light will take care of me. Don’t worry.” Reluctant, she nodded and followed the men outside of the restaurant where you went your separate ways. You watched Rose lean happily into Sato, hands interlocked, while Light had a simple hand on your hip with his back poised and straight.

“You knew.”

“Of course, I knew.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You found out, didn’t you?” You exhaled through your nose.

“Was it because of what I said? About telling her?” Light did not respond. Parting from you and entering the driver’s seat, he did not regard you until he put the car into drive.

“Telling her was out of the question in the first place. The rest was a problem that solved itself. You know now, at least, of what would happen the moment you tell her a single thing. Risking her happiness, her and his life.”

“But not mine.” It slipped before you could even think about the words you just said. Light pondered them, eyes narrowing in thought as he weaved through traffic.

“But not yours. Never yours.” You did not know whether his words were the truth or more pretty lies, but you opted for the former. It brought you comfort, after all.

“Do you like the idea of dark flowers with gold details?”

#light yagami x reader #yandere light yagami #yandere light yagami x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere death note #Death Note #light yagami #tw: yandere #tw yandere

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msmischief101 · 4 years

Photo

no place for promises

chapter 35: the heart of the matter

Warnings: / (heed tags for further information)

You can read it on AO3

—-

“Jackson,” Stiles breathes exasperated, tugging at the straps of his backpack, “shut up.” If he hears one more time that they owe it to Beacon Hills High to defeat Devenford Prep, he will punch him, no questions asked. There’s only so much school spirit he can handle for a school that doesn’t lock its doors at night and thus causing an abundance of accidents and murders that could’ve been prevented. He shouldn’t have caved and dropped lacrosse. The charity game is three days away, and Jackson is currently turning into the light version of Coach - and everyone knows that even the light version of Coach is more than a handful.

Whipping his head around, Jackson points his stick at Stiles' face. "Do not interrupt me."

Stiles swats his stick away. "Do not point this thing at me."

"He's right, you know?" Kira says, fumbling with her helmet. "It's a charity game." It’s a futile attempt; they both know it. Not even Danny can talk his best friend down, and there was a time Stiles believed Danny was one of the two people in the world who could get through Jackson’s thick skull, but that was before Stiles realized how obsessive some people can be. Not that anybody can be quite as obsessive as Theo, but Jackson behaves like a really close second right now.

"I am calm," Jackson insists, "and I'm aware it's a charity game. What do you think happens to the winner, huh? This team is the laughing stock of our lacrosse league. If we win this charity game – "

"We get to decide who the money goes to," Kira interrupts him almost impatiently. "That's called helping people."

"We can kill two birds with one stone, Yukimura!" Jackson grabs her shoulders, shaking her urgently. This is getting ridiculous. Some people really need to work on their obsession. It sounds exceptionally unhealthy. Scratch that, it is exceptionally unhealthy.

And Stiles is too tired to deal with this shit. "I gotta go pick up my dad."

"Parrish can do that.”

“Jackson – ”

“We need you,” he insists, looking about ready to stomp his feet. Hopefully, Theo is here soon, so they can leave, because Jackson is dangerously close to being hit with his own lacrosse stick.

Stiles huffs out a breath and exchanges a look with Kira, who seems to be on the verge of giving up. Understandable. It’s not like Stiles doesn’t know exactly how she feels. Telling Theo to dial down his obsession with beating Scott in every aspect of his life is just as impossible as telling Jackson to calm down when it comes to lacrosse. Brett’s involvement probably makes it even worse. Stiles can’t believe Jackson still has a grudge against Brett because he snatched the last scholarship away from him years ago. Although Stiles really doubts the scholarship was the whole reason. After all, Jackson’s parents could’ve easily afforded to pay for a private school like Devenford Prep. His dislike has probably much more to do with Brett getting a spot on the team while Jackson didn’t. Or maybe he had a spot on the team but didn’t make the first line, and Brett was the catalyst. To be perfectly honest, it wouldn’t be surprising at all if that’s the real reason for Jackson going to BHHS. He’s the king on the field here. Jackson has never been good with sharing the top spot. He can’t imagine how he would have handled not even being close to becoming number one.

Sighing, Stiles massages the bridge of his nose. “I already said I’m playing. I just won’t be able to join practice today, but tomorrow, I’m all yours.”

Jackson scoffs. “You’re spending the night with Raeken. It’ll be a miracle if you can walk tomorrow, much less play lacrosse.”

Stiles draws his eyebrows together and stares at Jackson, then Kira, who is trying, and failing, to stifle her laugh. What is so funny? Spending the night with Theo will be – oh. Heat creeps up his neck and cheeks, and Stiles has zero ideas on how to respond to that. Neither Jackson nor Kira are people he would generally choose to talk to when it comes to his sex life. In fact, he has never spoken to anybody about his sex life. Not even Scott or Lydia. Sure, he can talk about sex, but he’s really not a fan of talking about his non-existent sex life. Other than complaining about his virginal state in dire circumstances,or that one time with Coach, which is going to haunt him for the rest of his life. “Listen,” he says after a short pause, “get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter?” Jackson echoes, snorting out a laugh. “Don’t sound so defensive. It’s just sex.” It’s just sex, is easy to say for people like Jackson, Theo, and Brett, who can walk into a room only to find at least six people who want to have sex with them. “Don’t act like a prude.”

“I’m not a prude.”

Jackson rolls his eyes. “Then don’t act so damn virginal. We all know what’s gonna happen tonight.”

“Oh, do you?” Theo drawls and wraps his arm around Stiles’ waist the second he’s within reach. “Enlighten me, Whittemore. What’s gonna happen tonight?” He pulls him close, thumb hooking into the belt loop of Stiles’ pants. The mild worry about Theo lying to Jordan last night hits him now like a freight train. Did he lie to Jordan? Are the chimeras around tonight? It’s entirely possible that Theo sent them away and convinced them to lie on their behalf. Oh god, is Theo planning to have sex tonight? No, right? They agreed to go slow. Stiles wanted to go slow, and Theo was perfectly fine with this request.

He wouldn’t.

Would he?

And why is Stiles so fucking nervous about it? It’s sex. Sex is great. Everybody likes sex.

“He's having a meltdown,” Jackson notes with a sneer, and Kira nudges his shoulder, laughing now. They have gotten way too comfortable around each other far too soon.

That snaps Stiles out of his mild panic, and he regards Jackson with a scowl. “Oh, haha. You still want my help on Saturday, or nah?” Not that he has a lot of faith in his abilities. He’s fast, yes, and his kitsune part certainly helps a little. However, Brett has more than strength on him. The guy is exceptionally talented and experienced in lacrosse. Stiles isn’t going to be able to do much other than perhaps annoy the hell out of him. Getting his hopes up is the last thing Jackson should do. If they’re lucky, they can prevent being torn apart on the field, but winning? Doubtable.

“Go pick up your dad,” Jackson says, pointing his lacrosse stick at him again, “but tomorrow, you’ll be on the field. No excuses, you understand?”

Stiles waves his hand around before pulling Theo with him. That very uncomfortable discussion is over. Now, he can focus on the one ahead of him. Stiles isn’t sure if the best place for telling his dad about Theo and his relationship is the drive from the hospital back home, but Theo is the only one with time and a car on his hands. Plus, his truck is actually pretty comfortable.

“What’s up?”

“Hm?”

Theo intertwines they’re fingers and gets out the keys for his truck. “You seem nervous.”

Smell nervous, more likely. Although it’s annoying, Stiles has accepted the fact that the werewolves, as well as Theo, will never stop shoving their noses into his business. It's probably less monitoring than normal behavior. He wouldn’t be surprised at all if that’s a constant in wolf packs, and it’s just an exceptionally awkward thought, especially when it comes to sex. Brett was blunt about it at the party, but he also said that Stiles’ chemosignals are hard to read. Theo doesn’t seem to have that problem.

Stiles shrugs. “Just wondering how Dad will react,” he replies, running a hand over the nape of his neck. It’s not a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. Admitting that he’s mildly panicking about the possibility of them having sex tonight simply makes him feel stupid. He’s almost eighteen, not twelve, and he trusts Theo. Still.

The beeping of Theo’s car interrupts their silence, and just as Stiles opens the passenger’s door, Theo grabs his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. His expression is hard to read, but he’s clearly not sold on this half-truth. When he works his jaw, Stiles knows immediately that he’s about to be called out. “You know I’d never do anything you don’t want, right?” Theo asks, studying his face closely.

This is part of the reason they work so well; they know each other. It’s near impossible to fool Theo, but the same thing can be said about him. Stiles knows when a stupid idea is forming in the depth of Theo’s mind. It’s good. It’s helpful. Stiles likes this balance. He’s never had this with Malia. They weren’t even close to balanced.

“I know.”

Theo works his jaw again. “I know what I did, but – ”

Stiles grabs the front of Theo’s shirt and hauls him close, crashing their mouths together as clumsily as only he could do. But Theo doesn’t care. He grabs his thighs without hesitation, lifting him onto the edge of the passenger’s seat. His hands wander higher, fingers slipping underneath Stiles’ hoodie. His hands are warm and soft, despite the strength with which he holds onto him. Stiles hooks a leg around Theo’s, opening his mouth. Heat travels through his veins when Theo pushes his tongue past his lips.

Everything narrows until there’s nothing left but Theo’s hands on his shirt, his skin underneath Stiles’ fingertips, his mouth on his. Theo kisses him as if the world depends on it. Maybe it does. It’s impossible to forget the way Theo looked at him last night. The terror, the fear. He probably should address it. He should ask Theo about it. What he saw, what he felt. It’s wrong, just to brush it aside, bottle up his feelings and thoughts, and pretend it doesn’t matter. Because it should. It does.

Stiles pulls away, resting their foreheads together. "I trust you,” he whispers, cupping his cheeks softly. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be with you.”

Theo kisses him again. Softly. “I’m sorry about how I treated you,” he says, absentmindedly fixing Stiles’ hair. It’s such a Lydia thing to do, that Stiles wonders if Theo saw her do it, or if it’s a habit he’s simply never shown before. There’s a lot of himself Theo didn’t let anybody see, but that makes a lot of sense regardless.

“I know.” Stiles stops Theo from fixing his hair and kisses his knuckles, nudging Theo’s calf with his foot. “I don’t condone what you did, but I’m giving you this second chance because I know you won’t do it again.” Maybe some people would consider that naive, but something changed in Theo, something changed in the way he touches Stiles, the way he looks at him, holds him. Cupping Theo’s jaw, Stiles presses their mouths together. It takes a second before Theo melts against him, fingers finding their place on his hips again.

It’s easy to forget everything, to forget that they’re at the school, to forget that he had a short freakout regarding tonight, that they’re half an hour away from telling his dad about them dating.

Stiles pulls away, laughing quietly as Theo leans forward to kiss him one more time. “We gotta go,” he mumbles against Theo’s lips, and the last thing he wants to do is stop kissing him right now. He’s glad that his dad is coming home, but he wouldn’t mind making out with Theo indefinitely. Or at least for a little while longer. However, he has to be a responsible son who picks up his dad from the hospital.

Theo steals one more kiss before he pulls away. “I’m ready to put my head in the lion’s mouth.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Stiles says, pulling his legs into the car. One thing he really loves about Theo’s truck is the amount of room his legs have. He doesn’t have this luxury in his Jeep, and probably won’t ever again. After all, Roscoe has been running on spite and willpower ever since he slammed into a tree on his way to the nemeton. Maybe it’s time to let go, but he can’t. It’s his mother’s car. It’s the last thing he has of her. All he needs is to figure out how to pay for it.

Frowning, Stiles reaches for the door and stops mid-movement when he catches sight of Malia. She saw everything. "Theo," he says in a low voice, "let's go."

"Your dad isn't going to – "

"Get in the car."

"Stiles – "

"Get in the fucking car, Theodore," Stiles snaps because no matter how close he may or may not have been with Malia, he recognizes an expression of pure hatred, and he knows when a body is poised for an attack. He’s seen her do it often enough; hands raised above her hips, fingers straight, a slight crouch. She’s ready to break into a sprint.

Drawing his eyebrows together, Theo turns around. His shoulders tense almost immediately, and Stiles finds himself grabbing the back of the leather jacket. Theo growls, and Stiles yanks at him, wishing he could just haul him into the car through the passenger’s door.

“Theo, don’t.” Not at school. Not here. Not ever.

Malia takes a step forward then another. The moment she's about to break out into a sprint, Jackson appears. He's a whirlwind of red, colliding with Malia. The impact is hard, but it's probably the surprise that knocks her off her feet. There are hardly any people left in the parking lot. Kira is standing a little off to the side, watching the scene unfold uncomfortably. There’s a group of three, merely glancing in their direction. Behind that group, Stiles spots Danny and Lydia rushing towards them.

Good. The fewer people see anything, the better.

Jackson stares at Malia as she scrambles to her feet. For a second, Stiles worries she’s going to jump him as well. However, something in Jackson’s expressions seems to change her mind. She bares her teeth at him for good measure before retreating. Of course, Malia isn’t leaving without looking at Theo as well, flashing her eyes this time. What the fuck? Is she insane?

Theo growls. The sound is hardly loud enough for Stiles to hear, but he’s pretty sure Malia heard it too. Her step falters, and for a second, it seems as if she’s about to turn around to charge Theo regardless. Eventually, she decides against it. This is far from over.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Jackson asks when he arrives with Kira by his side. “She was ready to tear into you.”

“I didn’t need your help,” Theo snaps because, of course, his ego is hurt. As if they haven’t established that born werecreatures are stronger than he is. Maybe Malia isn’t quite as strong as Brett, but that does not mean she cannot kick his ass six ways from Sunday. Stiles knows Theo doesn’t like this truth, but he will have to accept it for now.

Jackson narrows his eyes. “You know what – ”

“Quit it,” Stiles interrupts. He doesn’t need them fighting, what he needs is to get a move on so he can pick up his dad and tell him he’s dating Theo ... and he really, really doesn’t want to be part of the conversation Lydia and Danny are about to start.

Jackson looks at his best friend, raising a brow. “What’s with the face?” he asks at the same time as Theo.

Stiles squints at them. First, they begin a questionable acquaintanceship because of their hatred for Brett, and now they’re speaking in sync. This friendship seems inevitable. They’re all doomed. If those two ever manage to get along, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Without Danny and Stiles around to stop a stupid idea from manifesting, they’re prone to trouble on their own. Stiles doesn’t want to imagine how terrible it’s going to get if they keep getting along.

Lydia exchanges a quick glance with him, looking no less worried about their inevitable doom. Kira doesn’t know either enough to predict what’s ahead of her, but Danny knows Jackson probably better than anybody. Perhaps that’s why Stiles is slightly unsettled by the way he studies Theo’s face, drawing his brows together in confusion. Something in his expression shifts a little, and he shakes his head before Stiles has the chance to ask what’s going on. “I’ve got news.”

“Somehow, I get the impression that I’m not going to like this news,” Stiles shoots back, propping his chin on Theo’s shoulder with a frown.

Danny contemplates his words. “Depends,” he replies, crossing his arms as well. His gaze darts to Theo again, roaming over his face almost a little too intense. Even though Stiles doesn’t know Danny all too well, he can tell that something’s going through his head, something that seems to have seriously distracted him again. Okay, this is getting weird. Does he have to be worried about something? “Well,” Danny continues after a moment, “I did some digging after you mentioned that the Nolan kid isn’t on the list.” Right. Nolan wasn’t a genetic chimera. At least, he wasn’t on any list they found, and the hospitals should have information on a major surgery that would turn him into one. “So, I checked if we missed something, and we did.”

Stiles doesn’t like the sound of that.

“What did we miss?” Theo props his elbow on the passenger’s seat.

Danny lets out a breath. “Nolan was in a car crash two days ago.”

“What?” Stiles stares at him. That’s a joke, right? A car crash? Jordan would’ve – no. Fuck, Jordan wouldn’t have known that because Jordan hasn’t been working the past two days. He was busy fixing the house and Stiles’ bedroom for their return. He couldn’t have known because nobody would’ve informed him about it. After all, nobody thinks that’s important.

Theo remains unmoving.

“Yeah, he and a friend of his. Gabe, I think his name was.” Thinking about it now, Gabe wasn’t at track earlier today, and he didn’t see him walk to the lacrosse pitch either. He didn’t even pay it much mind, even though he should have. After all, Gabe is Nolan’s best friend. Danny scratches his jaw. “His friend is at the hospital, but Nolan – ”

“Didn’t make it,” Theo finishes in a dull voice.

Stiles stares at the back of his head. “How do you know that?”

“Because they talked about it,” Theo tells him, turning around with a slight frown. “More than once. They said it’s an option they’d only use if they’re running out of time.”

“You said they were running out of time a few weeks ago.” Why the fuck would Theo keep that information from him? It’s important. It’s fucking important, actually. All this time, they kept an eye on the human genetic chimeras when the Dread Doctors have already moved on to Plan B.

Theo draws his eyebrows together, looking at the ground for a second. “That was before you turned into the nemeton,” he mutters, glancing at Stiles, and pulls his shoulders up. “And since they’ve worked on living subjects exclusively, I didn’t think about it.”

“Did I hear that right?” Jackson asks. “These dudes use dead people for their little science experiments now?” Drawing his eyebrows together, Jackson works his jaw and studies the back of Theo’s head, clearly expecting an answer to his question, an answer that’s so fucking obvious Stiles can’t believe he asked that question in the first place.

He can’t believe Theo never mentioned it either. Clenching his jaw, Stiles stares at Theo for a little while longer. Annoyance claws at the inside of his skin, but he pushes it down, taking a deep breath. Getting angry at Theo isn’t going to change anything right now. He still wishes that he would have mentioned something because knowing that, they could have perhaps prevented it. No, no. They couldn’t have stopped it. How could they have known Nolan and Gabe would get into a car crash?

Biting on the inside of his cheek, Stiles looks up and meets Lydia’s eyes. Maybe they could have trained her better. Maybe they should have trained her earlier regardless. Now, they’re here. “The question is,” Stiles says, looking at Theo again, “can they use any dead body?”

Theo pulls his shoulders up. “I don’t know. We can go through their research.”

“Tracy was dead for a few days,” Kira reminds them, twirling her ponytail around her index finger. That’s true. Tracy was dead the longest, but that didn’t bother the green liquid Theo pumped into her. It took mere seconds before her heart started beating again. Did it work because she wasn’t dead for very long, or because her body was still intact? What are the limits to this green juice?

Running a hand through his hair, Jackson keeps staring at Theo. “So, we need to keep an eye on recently deceased teenagers?”

“Nolan failed,” Kira says.

Danny covers his eyes with his left hand, taking a deep breath. Despite being in the know about the whole supernatural world, this is a lot to take in. Nobody would blame him if he just quit because he has enough of this bullshit.

“What if they can use any body that’s not fully decayed?” Lydia asks, her voice tentative, almost as if she doesn’t want to think about it. But she did, and so did Stiles.

Theo scrunches up his face. “That means everyone who died in the last seven years, give or take, is a potential vessel.”

This conversation sucks, and by the uncomfortable shifting of everyone, Stiles is pretty sure they’re all agreeing with him. The thing is, he’s about to make it worse. “Unless they’re embalmed. That gives us up to 50 years.”

Jackson curls his lips in disgust. “Why do the two of you know stuff like that?”

“I grew up with scientists,” Theo replies with a shrug.

Chuckling, Stiles leans his head against Theo’s.

“It’s not going to hurt you to open a book once in a while,” Lydia scolds Jackson quietly, nudging him gently with her elbow. There’s a little sparkle in her eye. She doesn’t mean it, mostly because they all know that Jackson is anything but stupid. Perhaps he isn’t book-smart, but he is exceptionally observant. After all, he almost immediately figured out that something is up with Scott, only to then realize that it can’t be drugs. Not even Allison figured it out, and she spent way more time with Scott than anybody else during that time.

Kira tugs at her hair. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Make all the bodies unusable?” Theo asks, and it’s really hard to tell if he means it or if he just throws it around to break the uncomfortable silence following Kira’s words.

Stiles huffs out a breath. “What do you wanna do? Dig everyone up and dissolve them in acid?”

“Isn’t molten metal more efficient?” Lydia wonders, quirking a brow and completely ignores Jackson’s somehow fond yet exasperated expression. Although he wasn’t aware of her intelligence from the very beginning, he seems to have gotten used to it rather quickly.

“No,” Stiles says, tapping a finger against Theo’s wrist, “it’s not about getting rid of the bodies. We just have to make them unusable. Acid should suffice for that..”

Pursing her lips, Lydia nods. Her act is on point. She really looks like she means it.

Kira covers her mouth with her hand, frowning a little.

“If it’s about making them unusable, couldn’t we technically mummify them as well?” Danny suggests, failing spectacularly to keep the grin from slipping on his features. “I always wanted to yank a brain through someone’s nose.” He folds his arms over his chest, quirking a brow. “For scientific purposes, of course.”

Stiles nods, not even trying to hide his grin any longer. “That’s the winning idea. I vote for that one. Any objections?”

When Kira covers her mouth this time, it’s to hide a laugh. She, at the very least, is polite enough to try it. Lydia, on the other hand, doesn’t even bother. Everybody seems to be particularly amused, while Jackson is rolling his eyes and Theo scowls, turning his head a little to study Stiles. “I get it. It’s not the best plan, but at least I had one.”

“He’s not wrong,” Jackson mutters.

Stunned, Stiles stares at him. What in the world is going on here? This needs to stop. He shakes his head. This is a development he definitely needs to keep an eye on. “Okay, let’s pretend for a second that we’re all morally corrupt and have smothered our conscience in the crib,” Stiles says after a few moments of silence, massaging his temples, “and let me ask a single question, how do you plan on digging up all bodies, make them unusable and bury them again with–” he briefly counts who’d be helpful in a plan like this “– twelve people before the walking freak show gets to them. Do you know how many cemeteries there are in Beacon County?”

Danny points at him. “He isn’t wrong either.

Both Jackson and Theo shoot him a look.

“Hey,” Stiles says, squeezing Theo’s shoulder lightly. “I know you mean well, but that’s just not going to work out for multiple reasons, Misiu.” He freezes the second he realized what he’s said. Oh god. That’s not what he meant to say at all. Fuck. He never called anybody by this pet name. In fact, he hasn’t thought about it since his mother died. It was her pet name for his dad.

“Did you just insult me in Polish?” Theo asks, looking both mildly offended and confused.

Stiles plasters a grin, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Figure it out.” It’s a pet name, not a marriage proposal, and they are dating, and Stiles definitely likes Theo. This is fine. No need to freak out. If anything, this just proves that he desperately needs to destress.

“Okay, you fucking smartasses,” Jackson interrupts, waving a hand around impatiently, “do you have actual plans?”

That’s a good question. There’s no way to predict who the Dread Doctors will target next or how to stop them from doing what they’re doing until they have a way to kill them. It was already impossible to narrow down who would be a potential target when the people on their list were all alive. If they are now trying to use dead people as well, they won’t have any other choice but to react to whatever they throw at them. Unless … unless. “Lydia and I should train our abilities. It might be our only chance to notice something’s happening before shit hits the fan.”

Lydia nods.

“What about Parrish?” Danny asks, tapping a finger against his bicep. “He’s a hellhound, right? Can he sense something too?”

Theo shakes his head. “A hellhound finds the bodies.”

“I usually do as well,” Lydia reminds him, and she scowls again, bright eyes fixed on something on the ground.

Kira grabs her hand. “You’ll just need a bit of training.”

“We all do,” Theo mutters, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Scott and I were no match for the Geneticist because of their ability to manipulate electromagnetic fields. We need another plan; otherwise, there’s no way we can deal with all three of them.” After what happened yesterday, they’re probably not going to engage alone again.

Stiles glances at Kira, and she is already looking back at him, lips set into a determined line. When their eyes meet, she nods curtly then glances at Lydia again. Together with Josh and Noshiko, they can be at the frontlines of that fight. If the Dread Doctors can’t hurt them by manipulating electromagnetic fields, all they have to do is keep their distance. That’s an advantage they can’t ignore. Still, first, they need to find a way to kill them.

“We’ll get through this,” Kira says with a small smile. “We always do.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, wrapping his arms around Theo’s shoulders. “Somehow.”

-----

They arrive at the hospital not too long after, and the problem with the Dread Doctors seems minor compared to what he has to face now. Stiles didn’t let himself think about all the possible reactions his father could have to his relationship with Theo. It never occurred to him that he might disapprove of them dating. Sure, Stiles isn’t completely distanced from reality. He’s aware that the distinct possibility exists that he might not be entirely happy with it. Right now, however, Stiles has a terrible feeling. What if his father refuses to understand? What if he immediately shuts them down? What if he wants him to choose?

Theo grabs his hand, squeezing tightly. "You want me to wait here?"

"I don't want you to," Stiles admits, running his free hand over his face, "but I think it's a good idea. Just in case, you know?" He's been yelled at in the hospital once. He honestly doesn't need a repeat, especially because it would end the same way. Stiles would use similar words for the same harsh impact. Mom would've given him a chance. Which would sound just as as it did back then. Even if he’s frustrated with his dad’s possible reaction, even if his dad doesn’t approve at all. Stiles wants a relationship with Theo, and he wants his dad to give it a chance, to give Theo a chance. He has to act like an adult, not like a hormonal teenager. He’ll be calm and reasonable, and everything will be fine.

Stiles pushes the thoughts down. It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be fine. His dad would never hold a gun to his head. If Stiles gives Theo a chance, then he will too. He’s worrying about nothing. Everybody has been accepting, and his father isn’t going to be any different.

Right?

Stiles swallows, shaking his head, and opens the passenger’s door. “It shouldn’t take long,” he says, trying his best to sound much more confident than he feels. His dad should already be talking to the doctor. Maybe he’s already on his way down. Who knows? He leans over and kisses Theo, allowing himself to be calmed by the feeling of his mouth on Theo’s, then slips out of the car and heads straight for the hospital.

If he meets Melissa, he needs to tell her about Nolan, and he should probably ask her to keep him in the loop about Gabe. Hopefully, Gabe isn’t a possible subject. The last thing they need is the Dread Doctors going after people at the hospital. Then again, they chose teenagers with tiny social circles, but with Theo being worried … Stiles doesn’t know how to judge them.

Biting his bottom lip, he slips through the door, passing a young couple on his way in. She’s carrying a baby, smiling down at it while her boyfriend walks with her, looking as if he’s on top of the world. Their happiness turns sour in Stiles’ mouth. Instead of being happy for them, he worries about them and adds another face to the list of potential targets. It’s seriously pissing him off.

As soon as they know how to kill the Dread Doctors, Stiles will not hesitate one second.

“Stiles,” Melissa calls, sounding and looking rather exhausted when she greets him with a smile, “your dad will be here soon. He’s talking to Dr. Geyer right now.” Which means it will most likely take another thirty minutes because there’s no way in hell his dad isn’t going to try everything to get back to work as fast as possible. Although Stiles doesn’t know Liam’s dad very well, he seemed to be quite levelheaded, the few times he saw him. So hopefully, his dad will run against a thick wall of reason with every single one of his arguments. Stiles really doesn’t want to see his dad back at work anytime soon, but he cannot make that decision. Hopefully, Dr. Geyer will make that for him.

The lobby is buzzing with people. He spots Valerie hurrying to the stairs, talking to Strauss rather animatedly. Not for the first time, Stiles would like to have super-hearing. Couldn’t his kitsune come with that? He really wants to know what they’re talking about. Of course, he’s most likely going to learn everything once Jordan comes back from work tomorrow. Patience just isn’t his strong suit.

“I hope he wasn’t too annoying,” Stiles says, leaning against the desk.

Melissa chuckles. “Not more than usual.” As much as he likes Natalie, part of him will forever hope that Melissa and his dad will one day discover their feelings for each other. She’s like a mother to him. She is family, no matter what’s going on between Stiles and Scott, Melissa will forever be family to him.

“Good to know.” Stiles glances around the room, spotting a chair opposite the desk. Although he rested a lot, his muscles are still sore. He feels a little as if he worked out way too much.

Before he can pull away, Melissa places a hand on his. “Are you okay?” she asks in a soft voice. “You look tired.”

Stiles cracks a smile. “It’s a long story.”

"Good thing I'm in desperate need of a coffee break," Melissa says, gesturing for a young nurse to take her place by the computer, and walks around the desk. "Come on, I'll show you which coffee doesn't completely suck." She hooks her arm around his, and Stiles feels a twinge of guilt because he doesn't want to leave Theo in the car for thirty minutes, but he's not about to ask Melissa if he can come in. He killed her son after all. She won't be as accepting as the others.

Stiles clears his throat. "I'm actually here with someone. They're waiting in the car."

"Ask them to come in."

"I…" Stiles trails off, squirming a little, "I don't think you want to see him."

For a very long moment, Melissa is quiet, but Stiles can see it in her face. She knows exactly who he is talking about. It takes another pause, one that feels so much longer and so, so much more uncomfortable, until she squeezes his arm. “Is he treating you well?”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Stiles nods. “Yeah. He’s good to me.”

Melissa smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “If that ever changes-”

“You’ll have to get in line,” Stiles says, pulling out his vibrating phone. “Jordan called dibs on shooting him.” And if he remembers correctly, Isaac is even higher up on that list. He probably should remind everyone that he really doesn’t need their help dealing with Theo. After yesterday, Stiles has the strange feeling that Theo won’t do anything that might result in losing him one way or another. He really needs to talk to him regarding yesterday.

With a sigh, he checks his phone. It’s Theo.

>> I’ll wait in the car. Go with her.

Stiles snorts out a laugh. That Theo is eavesdropping on the conversations he has while waiting for him and his dad to come out is the least surprising thing that has happened in a while. It’s also a little disconcerting, if he’s being honest. They probably should have a very brief conversation about boundaries as well.

Thanks, Misiu. <<

“Let’s go,” Stiles says, nodding his head in the direction of the cafeteria, and taps a finger against the back of his phone. Theo should reply any second now, right after he figured out what Stiles started to call him. They’ve made it a couple of steps when his phone vibrates again.

>> I’m NOT a teddy bear.

Smiling, Stiles pushes his phone in the pocket of his hoodie and turns to Melissa. “So, how did my dad really behave?”

Talking to her comes surprisingly easy. To be fair, it has always been easy, yet Stiles expected there to be something off between them after Scott and he ended their friendship. Then again, it’s not necessarily like Scott to go to his mom and trash-talk him. Stiles didn’t bash Scott in front of his dad either. It is what it is. The last thing Stiles wants is to change anybody’s opinion on how they view Scott when what has happened is strictly between the two of them. He explained to his father the reason for his decision to step away from the friendship, and that's all there is to it. He won't delve into a monologue, telling him why he thinks Scott is a jerk.

Stiles is glad that’s something Scott and he can agree on. Their parents are very close as well. If they forced them to take sides, it would ruin their relationship completely. That’s the last thing Stiles wants to happen. He will never stand in the way of his father’s happiness, and if maintaining a relationship with Melissa is what makes him happy, then so be it; and no matter Scott and his relationship, Stiles knows that Scott won’t see this any differently.

“That sounds complicated,” Melissa says, studying him over the rim of her coffee cup. It’s not the best coffee in the world, but he agrees that it’s the best one they sell at the hospital. Hopefully, he won’t have to drink it again anytime soon. Not that he doesn’t enjoy this talk with Melissa, but he rather not be in the hospital again for any reason. He’s starting to hate this place with a burning passion.

“It’s a lot to get used to.” Stiles crosses his arms on the table and shrugs. “The worst is that I sense so much whenever I focus on the ley lines.” Or that he might kill himself if he doesn’t get his now nogistune-infested magic under control. However, that’s not quite the topic he wants to talk about right now. “But, I bet I can play amazing pranks on people with my magic.” He grins at her, feeling relieved when she cracks a smile.

She sips on her coffee, contemplating in silence for a little while. Her eyes roam over his face, bright and familiar, no less watchful than Jordan’s or his dad’s. “I’m glad you could save Nolan,” Melissa tells him eventually, placing her cup on the table, “even though that’s going to cause a lot of paperwork.” Her lips quirk into a smirk then places her hand on top of his again, squeezing his fingers. “You saved his life. It was the right decision to make. He’ll be in good hands with Satomi.”

Stiles studies her for a moment, not entirely sure if she’s telling him the truth or trying to ease his guilty conscience. Mostly because it’s the complete opposite of what Scott thinks. “Are you sure about that?”

“If the other option was death?” Melissa asks in a low voice, glancing at the people sitting at the table next to them. They’re far too engrossed in their own conversation that they haven’t heard anything. “Yes, the bite saved him. It was the right decision. I’m sure Scott would agree.” That comes as a surprise. Out of all the things she could’ve said, this is the last thing he expected. After all, Scott doesn’t hide his opinion on bites without consent, even in the context of a life or death situation.

Swallowing heavily, Stiles lowers his gaze, focusing his attention on his own mostly empty coffee.

"What?" Melissa asks, "what's wrong?"

"It's just – " Stiles cuts himself off. This isn't really his story to tell. He doesn't want to speak ill about Scott in front of his mother. He's not that type of asshole. "You should talk to Scott about that," he says in a low voice, drawing little circles on the side of his cup.

"But, I'm talking to you now."

"Melissa – "

"Mom." Scott appears next to them at the table

Stiles looks up, unsure of what to do or to say now. This isn't his story to tell, and considering the status of their relationship, Stiles doesn't even want to be present when it happens. Melissa glances at him, then back to Scott. She draws her eyebrows together, eyeing her son with something akin to uncertainty. "What happened?" Stiles wonders if she means between you or last night. Does she know why he and Scott aren't on speaking terms any longer? And if so, does she know the whole story?

"Did Nolan make it?" Scott pointedly averts his mother's eyes. Seems like someone is still keeping secrets.

Stiles sets his jaw. "Don't worry about Nolan," he says, similar words ringing in his ears, words Scott has thrown at him not too long ago, words that burnt themselves into his skin. Taking a breath, Stiles pushes away from the table and gets to his feet. "Maybe you should talk to your mom."

Scott looks as if Stiles punched him in the face. Good. Now, he knows how he felt when Scott kicked him out of the pack.

“Scott,” Melissa says, demand clear in her voice.

Stiles grabs his cup. “Don’t forget to tell her about Hayden, too.”

Melissa opens her mouth, but doesn’t say anything immediately. Stiles can feel her eyes on him as much as he can see the struggle on Scott’s face. He half expects him to step in his way and stop him. When he doesn’t, Stiles can’t tell if he’s disappointed or relieved. That’s it now. No turning back. Their relationship has reached the end of the line - unless Stiles makes a move to rekindle it. Because that’s how it always went, didn’t it? He used to run towards Scott, not away from him. It took a bit of distance to realize that he was always coming back even when Scott was at fault.

This time, that’s not going to happen. In fact, it won’t happen ever again.

-----

“I could’ve called a cab.”

Stiles rolls his eyes; hands pushed deep into the pockets of his hoodie. “So, you can stop at a diner and shovel down a burger and fries?” Trying to grin, Stiles nudges his dad’s arm gently. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees him crack a smile. “Not gonna happen, Dad.” The closer they come to the exit, the more nervous he becomes. Stiles still doesn’t know how his dad will react once he learns that he and Theo are dating.

The sliding doors open, and Stiles waits for the moment his father spots Theo. It happens almost immediately. The young nurse has hardly wheeled his dad onto the parking lot when Theo slips out of his truck. It’s strangely satisfying to see him drum his fingers against the side of his car, an unsure smile on his lips.

His dad's shoulders go rigid. “Theo," he says, and Stiles doesn’t know if it’s a question, a statement, or if he’s talking to Theo directly. That’s only answered when he feels him trying to burn a hole in the back of his head. Great.

“Can we talk about that inside the truck? Maybe?” Stiles suggests, gesturing in Theo’s general direction, and glances at the nurse who's already picked up on the tension in the air. He really doesn't need her overhearing anything. The last thing they need is to become the late afternoon shift’s hot topic. Stiles has been at the hospital often enough to know that nurses love gossip as much as the next person.

His dad starts walking again. “I should’ve seen this coming,” he mutters, climbing into the back of the truck, and huffs out a breath. Nothing about this was predictable. A couple of weeks back, dating was next to impossible.

Stiles thanks the nurse, then tosses the bag into the truck’s bed before climbing onto the passenger’s seat. He catches Theo’s eye as he slips behind the wheel and tries to smile. As for now, it’s going well. His dad isn’t yelling at or scolding him. That’s always a good sign. Granted, this isn’t exactly the reaction Stiles hoped for, but it’s still better than the alternative.

After putting his seatbelt on, Stiles turns to his dad. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Even though he doesn’t mean for his words to come off as snippy, it’s hard not to be after that reaction. No matter how much better his dad’s resignation is than anger, it still sucks. Of course, he didn’t expect his father to jump in joy. Again, this isn’t a helpful reaction. At all.

His dad raises a brow and studies Stiles for a few seconds of silence. His expression is closed off, impossible to read. He’s the sheriff through and through, and Stiles really isn’t a fan of his dad using that against him. Right now, it gets on Stiles’ nerves as much as the lack of a reply. Eventually, his dad shifts a little, grunting as the movement jostles his stitches. “So, Theo,” he says then, entirely ignoring Stiles’ question, “are you dating or using my only son?”

“Dad,” Stiles snaps.

The engine rumbles deeply as Theo shifts gears far too soon. He clears his throat, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Dating, Sir.”

“Are you sure?”

Stiles rolls his eyes.

“Yessir.”

His dad nods. “Why?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles mutters, sinking into his seat. He really wishes it would swallow him whole. His dad didn’t make such a fuss about Malia. In fact, he just kind of went along with the whole story, even though she was a coyote for over half her life. Stiles would prefer his dad’s reaction be because she was a girl, and his dad isn’t completely sure how to react to Stiles dating a guy now. He kind of only mentioned in passing that he’s not only into girls, so it could also be a possible explanation.

However, Stiles is pretty sure this has everything to do with Theo being Theo, which is fair, now that he thinks about it. Also, Jordan and Melissa already promised to give Theo hell. Maybe they should appreciate that his dad hasn’t threatened Theo.

Yet.

“Why what?”

“Why are you dating my son?”

Stiles glances at Theo, expecting him to be nervous. To his surprise. Theo’s shoulders relax, and he smiles a little when he glances into the rearview mirror this time. “Because he’s smart,” Theo says, gaze briefly darting to Stiles, “and persistent. Because he knows what he wants. Because he’s a pain in my ass, and he doesn’t take shit from me. It drives me up the wall, but I wouldn’t wanna have it any other way.” He smiles a little, glances at Stiles again, and grins. “Well, I could deal with less reckless idiocy.”

Stiles can’t help but stare at him. Out of all the possible answers, he didn’t expect this – this self-assured confidence in every single word, this softness to his eyes. He just can’t believe those words came out of Theo’s mouth in front of his dad. Stiles expected that Theo may or may not confess something like that when they’re alone, in the dead of night, a moment of complete vulnerability.

“He’s got that from Claudia,” his dad says, and Stiles glances over his shoulder, catching an almost fond smile on his lips. “Aside from the recklessness. Not sure who he’s got that from.”

Stiles scoffs. “Says the guy who shoots a Darach two minutes after believing in the supernatural.”

“Sounds familiar,” Theo says, shifting down as they near a red light.

Pursing his lips, Stiles catches Theo’s hand before it’s out of reach, and intertwines their fingers. Theo looks at him again, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not reckless,” he whispers, squeezing his hand.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” Theo tells him, and he sounds surprisingly annoyed. Seems as if someone hasn’t gotten over what happened yesterday. Right, that’s a conversation Stiles really does not know how to start.

His dad lets out a breath. “I don’t like this.”

Stiles squeezes Theo’s hand tightly, holding onto him, or perhaps stopping Theo from pulling his hand away for some stupid reason. His stomach twists uncomfortably. He doesn’t know what he would do if his dad said he’s against their relationship or tried to prohibit Stiles from seeing Theo.

“I’ll give you a chance,” his dad announces, and Stiles can hear the ‘but’ coming before his father even continues talking. “But there will be rules, especially for you, Theo.” That’s still better than a lot of other outcomes Stiles has imagined.

Theo squeezes Stiles’ hand once more before pulling his hand away to shift gears and speed up. “I understand, Sir.”

“Good, because you are on thin ice,” his dad continues calmly, “if you even think about doing anything illegal, you will spend the rest of your days in prison. If my son gets hurt – ”

“Dad, please.”

“ – you’re lucky if you make it that far,” his dad finishes, utterly unfazed by Stiles’ complaint. The last thing anybody needs is an overprotective dad. Everyone in this car knows very well that Stiles isn’t a damsel in distress. He can save his own ass, and he definitely knows how to ruin Theo’s life if he does something idiotic.

Theo checks the rearview mirror, features hardening. “Nothing will happen to your son, Sir.”

If he says ‘Sir’ one more time, Stiles is going to lose it.

“Never say never,” his dad says, shifting his gaze outside the window. “I know my son, but I appreciate the sentiment.” How did this conversation end up with him suddenly being the target of his dad’s scorn? That’s just rude. “Just promise me to keep him safe.”

“Hey.”

“That’s not exactly an easy task.”

Stiles boxes Theo’s upper arm lightly. “Hey.”

“Theo,” his dad says, and the air in the car shifts yet again, “you know why I’m giving you a second chance. Don’t make me regret this.”

Stiles draws his eyebrows together. “What?” How come these two already have secrets? This cannot be happening. If this conversation is the beginning of Theo and his father ganging up on him, Stiles will lose his mind. He can handle only so many overprotective people around him at once.

“I promise I won’t.”

“Hey.” Stiles pokes Theo’s arm. “What’s this about?”

Theo grabs his hand and, with a grin, pulls his hand to his mouth. Heat creeps into Stiles’ cheeks as Theo kisses his knuckles before intertwining their fingers again. This will take some time to get used to, Stiles won’t lie about that, especially in front of other people, but he wouldn’t want to miss the feeling of Theo’s hand in his.

-----

“I still can’t believe the sheriff didn’t shoot you,” Hayden announces, hanging upside down off the couch, legs thrown over Liam’s thighs, as she’s trying to get her hair up in a bun. This isn’t even the weirdest thing Stiles has seen all evening. In fact, Liam chilling at Theo’s place is so much weirder than that. To be perfectly honest, Stiles isn’t entirely sure how he ended up on this odd double date dynamic with Josh and Corey being the awkward single friends who tagged along.

Theo narrows his eyes. "Careful."

"You turned me into your babysitter, remember?" Hayden lets her hair tie snap into place and lifts herself back up. "Be nice to me, or I'll tell my sister you and nemeton boy went straight to home base." She quirks a brow and smirks, looking terrifyingly self-assured, although she really should know better than to egg Theo on. Even though he doesn't feel angry, there's a line nobody should cross unless they're craving punishment.

Stiles kisses Theo’s cheek, capturing his attention immediately with something as little as that. "Hey there."

Hayden sniggers.

Josh groans, kicking Stiles' leg. "Stop it," he whines, shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth, and offers the bowl to Corey, who's sitting next to him, hands always somewhere near his face in case Kayako makes a scary return.

This feels so normal, so fucking normal Stiles doesn't want the evening to end. With Liam and Hayden on one end of the couch, Corey and Josh in the middle part, and Theo lying next to him on the recamier, it's impossible not to feel good. With all the stress of the last weeks, with everything that happened yesterday, normal hasn't been on his radar. Now, it's a bittersweet feeling. He craves it so much, and he’s afraid to lose it again.

The sound of the front door opening catches everybody's attention. Stiles notices the shift in the air almost immediately, feels Theo tensing up next to him.

A moment later, Tracy appears in the living room, twirling her keys around her index finger. "Don't be such a baby, Corey," she says in lieu of a greeting, but her eyes aren't locked on him.

Stiles senses her gaze on him, and he doesn't like it.

"Fuck you," Josh hurls back at her. "Why didn't you stay in your hole, huh? Nobody mis – "

"Josh," Stiles cuts in sharply because he knows Theo isn't going to do it, "she's still pack. Treat her like it." He doesn't like Tracy a lot, and it's true, he'd rather not have her around at all. Still, she's heartbroken because her crush used her until he found someone better. That's a horrible feeling. That's worse than how Stiles felt whenever he saw Jackson and Lydia together.

Tracy snarls, and Theo whips his head around.

"I don't need your pity," she snaps, slamming her hand against the doorframe. She's grinning when Stiles finally looks at her. “But, I guess it’s just a matter of time until you realize you’re too good for Theo. He will do something you can’t forgive, and you will crawl back to Scott like you always do.” Stiles clenches his jaw. There's a lot he wants to hurl back at her, but despite popular belief, he does know when to be the bigger person. Sometimes at least.

A tremble goes through Theo’s body, and Stiles places a hand over his fist, covers his white knuckles with a firm grip. It hits him where it hurts. It hits him where his own insecurities lie. Insecurities that should’ve left with Stiles’ words, with Stiles’ dad accepting their relationship, with Stiles being ready to show the world he’s dating him.

But the doubt remains.

And it stings.

Tracy is either aware of the effect her words have, or just loves to hear herself talk. “I doubt it’ll take long. One fight and Theo comes crawling back to my bed to get rid of his pent up frustration because, once again, you’re not doing exactly what he wants. And if you truly believe Theo will change for you, you’re stupider than you look.”

Theo is on his feet before Stiles can do something. The complicated thing with Theo is that it’s not always easy to predict what might set him off. He seems to be volatile, a victim of mood swings, and too many emotions crushing down on him - but he isn't. Stiles knows he isn't because once you look a little closer, it's obvious that it's the same things all over again that ultimately set him off. Brett for example, is one of those things. Their relationship seems to be another. There's probably more, but until Stiles figures this out, he will have to tread lightly on what could be a minefield.

With a sigh, Stiles scrambles off the couch. He reaches Theo before he has the chance to grab Tracy, who, as calculating as she is, stood her ground, waiting for Theo to be within reach. Stiles isn’t stupid. He knows her goal, knows she’s just waiting for the right moment, for Theo to be close enough. She kissed him before to prove a point, and Stiles doesn’t have any doubt that she’d do it again, just like he hasn’t any doubt that Theo isn’t thinking that far ahead. He’s pissed off. That’s when he stops thinking. That’s when the schemer in him becomes blind.

Stiles wraps an arm around Theo’s waist and presses a hand against his stomach. It’s more a question than a command because Stiles knows that he’s not going to stop Theo even if he wanted to. Despite his fucked up magic, the balance remains intact, even between the chimeras. When it comes to physical strength, he’s at the bottom of the barrel, and there’s nothing he can do about it. All he can hope for is that Tracy will never learn that because if his magic’s source is his own life rather than the ley lines, he cannot use it for fun and petty fights.

To his surprise, Theo doesn’t move out of his arms.. Not trusting Tracy to keep her mouth or Theo to change his mind, Stiles hugs him from behind, drawing him as close as possible, and presses his lips to his jaw just underneath his ear. Theo relaxes into him, huffing out a breath.

“Don’t be a dick,” Stiles says, locking eyes with Tracy, whose grin has changed into a snarl. “You broke her heart. Did you really expect she won’t act up?” Act up is putting it lightly. She punched him; she keeps insulting and provoking him. It takes a lot of willpower not to repay her the favor. But the next time she even thinks about hitting him, Stiles won’t be so nice. Maybe he’ll even allow Theo to put her in her place.

But not right now.

“It’s not Stiles’ fault, Tracy,” Hayden pipes up, casually trying to pin a loose strand of hair back into her bun.

“Just drop it,” Josh adds.

Corey clears his throat. “You can join us.”

“Right,” Tracy drawls, pushing herself away from the doorframe, “I have better things to do than watch horror movies with a bunch of losers.” And with that, she leaves, heels of her ankle boots clicking against the expensive flooring.

As much as Stiles dislikes her, this isn’t how it should be. Tracy is a member of this pack, and he can’t stomach to see her separate from it further and further. It’s not fair to her. She’s heartbroken and hung up on someone who played her like a fiddle. Of course, she won’t accept that Theo moved on, and of course, she hates Stiles so much more than she hates Theo. Because she loves him, and to her, it looks like Stiles stole him from under her nose. Why did he hate Jackson? He hated him because Lydia chose him over Stiles. He hated him because he was precisely where Stiles wanted to be. He knows exactly how she feels.

Stiles lets go of Theo and slips around him. “Tracy, wait.” He runs after her, not sure what to say. Would anything have changed if Jackson spoke to him back in the day? Would it have made him hate Jackson less? Probably not. But Jackson never tried, and Stiles never confronted him.

“Leave her be,” Theo says, sounding almost a little annoyed.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe Stiles should let it go, but he can’t help but try. He has to try. They don’t have to be best friends. They don’t even have to like each other, but he doesn’t want his presence to destroy her relationship to the pack. When he enters the hallway, Tracy is already halfway up the stairs, and she doesn’t seem intent on stopping. “Come on,” Stiles tries again, following her by taking two steps at a time. “Let’s talk this out.”

Tracy spins around. “Talk this out?” She looms over him, glares down from the landing, hands curled into fists.

Stiles stops four steps underneath her, knowing better than to get too close. Although she knows exactly what’s going to happen if she kills him, he doesn’t trust her to keep from shoving him down the stairs regardless. There’s a wildness in her eyes he cannot and will not ignore. He might be reckless, but he’s far from stupid. “I didn’t do this on purpose,” Stiles tells her, placing a hand on the railing just in case.”I didn’t plan to develop feelings for him.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she spits, knuckles turning white under pressure. Nothing can make her feel better. At least nothing Stiles is willing to give or do, nothing that’s going to happen anytime soon.

“I’m trying to settle this,” Stiles replies, tapping a finger against the wooden railing. Despite knowing better, anger starts to boil in the pit of his stomach. “You don’t like me, and trust me, that feeling is mutual.” Her previous relationship with Theo plays into that, knowing she’s been so much closer to him than Stiles is right now, which is his own fault, really. It’s her living with Theo. It’s her attitude. It’s her reminding him that Theo came to her whenever he was angry or pissed. He curls his hands into fists, blunt nails biting into his palms. Nothing inside of him wants to be reasonable. There’s a part of him, a part so small and so terrifying, that wants to show her exactly where she belongs; and it’s not next to Theo. That’s for sure. But he can’t do it. He won’t do it.

Tracy sneers down at him. “You don’t have a single clue how I feel about you.”

Stiles takes a breath. That’s debatable but not the point of this conversation. “I’ll be around a lot more from now on, and we need to be able to deal with each other.” Or this is going to end in a disaster. They both know it.

Tracy crosses her arms. “Yeah, I doubt that’s going to happen.”

“So what? You’re going to be a bitch for the rest of your life?”

“If that’s what it takes to get rid of you,” she says with a smile that’s begging to be slapped off her face.

Stiles shakes his head. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not gonna happen.”

“Then, I don’t know why we’re still talking.” Tracy spins around and stalks down the hallway. Stiles watches her until she slips into her bedroom, door slamming shut behind her so hard it wouldn’t be surprising if it’s jumping out of its hinges.

Sighing, Stiles walks back down the stairs.

“I could’ve told you it was pointless,” Theo tells him, waiting for him next to the bottom of the stairs.

“Ripping her throat out doesn’t help either.” Stiles scrunches up his face and lets Theo pull him close. Although he isn’t too heartbroken about the whole thing, he is annoyed. “I’m just trying to – ” he makes a helpless gesture then buries his face in the crook of Theo’s neck, breathing in his familiar aftershave, and curls his arms around him. To be perfectly honest, he doesn’t even know exactly why he’s trying. Obviously, Tracy isn’t interested in a truce. Did he do it for his conscience? Did he do it so he could say that at least he tried? Stiles huffs out a breath.

Corey screeches in the other room. The sound is followed by the clatter of what’s probably the popcorn bowl.

The other three are howling with laughter.

“I can’t believe he’s scared of a fictional ghost,” Theo mutters, running his hands up and down Stiles’ sides. “How are we supposed to fight the beast like that?” Nobody in this house, aside from maybe Theo and Tracy, looks particularly dangerous or behaves like they could harm a fly within the blink of an eye.

Stiles huffs out a breath. “Don’t underestimate him,” he says, propping his head on Theo’s shoulder, and watches as Corey picks the popcorn off the floor. “He’s a survivor.” If pushed a little, he’s probably going to be able to do more than anybody could expect. Although Stiles wishes he wouldn’t have to. He kisses Theo’s cheek and pulls away. “Let’s go back to the others, Misiu.”

With the fakest offended expression Stiles has ever seen, Theo shoves him. “We’re not going to make that a thing.” He pretends to pout a little while longer, but it doesn’t take long before he cracks a smile, and he pulls Stiles closer to him again. Although he’s been close to so many people, nothing compares to the feeling of Theo’s hand on his hip, or to his shoulder against his. He’s not prepared for it. Not prepared for any of this. He can feel every spot Theo’s body is touching his, can feel the silent chuckle as Corey throws a handful of popcorn at Josh’s face.

“I’m so going to make that a thing,” Stiles whispers with a grin and drags Theo back to the living room.

#steo #steo fanfic #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #teen wolf #no place for promises #*tv:teen wolf #*w:npfp #*s:steo

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