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its-in-the-woods · 5 months ago

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The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 7

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I can only research so much

Synopsis: A walk in delusions, memories and sadness. Will Jade survive her ordeal? Will the Ghoul make it out of the forest?

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on fallout expect typical: Drug use, blo0d/g0re, major body horror, Horror for everyone,flashbacks, harm to children (brief) alien critters, angst, hurt/comfort kinda, Canon divergence, hints of SH/SA/NONCON, Slow Burn,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

It's a bumpy ride folks

The walk was horrendous, despite the girl’s small size her weight dug into his shoulders. The Ghoul refused to leave her, even if she was more than likely dead. Every time he stopped for a puff of chem, or a drink of water he’d check to make sure she was still breathing. He checked her eyes and they would roll and dilate, but that was all. He’d grab the ropes and kept moving, he hadn’t heard the creature; continuing to tell himself that no noise was a good sign. The tinge of fear was still stirring in his guts, he had run across many things in the Wastes. A creature that could regenerate itself like that was new.

As the Ghoul walked he'd cursed her names more times than he could count. Cussing at the fact that she had crawled into his life, had lowered his barriers. There was no reason he shouldn’t have left her, kill or be killed right? She had said it, that was the law of the land. The longer he walked the darker it started to get, images of all the people he had met came into mind. The forest, and total exhaustion, playing tricks on him.

Melanie was a tall tanned woman with gray-streaked hair, a bright smile, and blue eyes. At first, the image was of her smiling, handing him food from the back of a military truck. One of the friendliest people he had met since the bombs dropped. He watched as she went to grab the can of food, as her face turned up to him, half her head was gone. One eye and twisted smile staring back at him.

“Why didn’t you save me, Cooper,” Her voice echoed through his head, as he gritted his teeth. A memory of finding her dead less than three hours after seeing her, twisting in his guts.

The next memory was an older man, with a big black cowboy hat, opening a door into a desolate house. Ghoul could remember it so clearly, the man hunched over from age, leading him to the back of the house. Sounds of clawing and screaming coming from inside a back room. Heavy locks covered the doors, that the man painstakingly opened one at a time. The old man's name was Harold, and behind the door was what was left of his wife Wendy.

“I don’t know what to do. She looks like you, but she doesn’t act like she used to,” Harold had said, eyes big and wide as if he were a child. “Maybe you could help’er? Show her that she doesn’t need to be like this?”

As the man pushed the door open, Cooper's stomach lurched. Behind the door wasn’t a woman anymore. No, what was left was merely a body, a body melted from the atomic blast, what was left of her hair streaked with blood. Mouth lipless and yellow stained teeth chomping at him. Black holes where her eyes should have been, were now long empty. He remembers crouching down in front of her, really trying to see if there was anything left of who she was. The many layers of binding around her had ripped into what was left of her paper-thin skin, digging into the bone, holding her in place. As she desperately tried to get at him.

The Ghoul remembers the look on the man’s face when he said there was nothing he could do, the tears that stained Harold’s face as he told Cooper. “If you can’t help, get out. I don’t need you.”

Cooper walking away and the sounds of two gunshots echoing across the barren land.

Endless scenes of too many lifetimes dance through his mind like macabre theatre as he walks while dragging the girl. A girl that had the same fate as any of the other tortured souls he had encountered. Some of the stories were more palatable but all ended the same. Dead, gone, and yet he kept putting one foot in front of the other.

“They always end up dead don’t they, Daddy,” It was Janey’s voice this time.

It stopped him in his tracks, his dead heart pounding against his ribs, threatening to break free of the cage that held it there.

“Why are you still carrying her? Isn’t she going to end up dead too?” Little Janey stood beside him, looking up from under her cowboy hat. Her face was lined with concern, eyes big and wide as she looked into his.

The Ghoul felt for his inhaler, but it wasn’t in his pocket. Looking down he was dressed in the cowboy outfit, but it wasn’t worn and dirty. It looked new like it had on the days he filmed. He blinked a few times, trying to understand what he was seeing. The Ghoul could feel his heart breaking all over again as he looked at his small daughter. She looked exactly the same as the last day he saw her.

Dropping to his knees in front of his little girl, reaching out to touch her warm face, “Sweet Janey, it’s going to be okay.”

Janey moved back away from his touch, a sudden look of horror crossing her face. As if she was seeing him for who now was, for seeing the monster her Daddy had become. “You aren’t my Daddy.”

Her face twisting and morphing, her nose falling off as her hair fell out of her head. A scream echoing over the trees as she kept moving backward, piece by piece of her falling until there was nothing left but her hat on the ground. The Ghoul scrambling trying to reach her, trying to grab her. To save his little girl from the fate that had befallen him.

It suddenly dawned on the Ghoul, that he was the one who was screaming. He covered his mouth, the taste of leather snapping him out of the nightmare. He found his inhaler taking a long puff as he tipped over onto the ground. He lay there for a moment, his eyes screwed shut, fearing if he opened them he would see her again. See his daughter's melted disfigured face. Taking the inhaler he took another breath, feeling his world righting again. Giving himself another ten seconds before he pushed himself back onto his knees.

The Ghoul's cheeks wet with tears, he turned back to the girl he had been dragging for god knows how long. Pushing himself up he grabbed the ropes and dragged Jade to the edge of the forest. Leaning down he managed to lift her, covered in his jacket, and carry her a little deeper into the bush. He found a mostly covered spot for them to hide out in until the sun came up. Walking back he tucked the makeshift sled into the trees, grabbing a stimpak and water. His legs shaky as he made his way back to their hiding spot.

Jade hadn’t moved, he knelt checking to make sure she was still breathing. Satisfied that she was still alive he injected her with another stimpak and took a sip of water. The Ghoul slides over to a tree leaning against it, taking off his cowboy hat. It was dark in here, dark enough that he couldn’t make out much. He knew he should be worried, but he was too exhausted to care. Instead, he tipped his head back and let sleep take him. Whatever came would come.

***

The Ghoul awoke to a small white bird sending out a shrill chirp on a branch in front of him and then disappearing into the morning sun. Groaning as he got up, he stretches hearing pops and snaps as his muscles yelled at him. Jade had rolled sometime in the night, still covered in his jacket, still alive. Somehow. He swallowed, wondering if it was a good sign or not that she had moved. Turning her over, he saw her face scrunch in discomfort before relaxing again.

He takes off his gloves feeling her skin again. No signs of fever, he rolls her back onto his jacket, cringing as he lifts her shirt. Surprised to see that most of the bruising had faded. Uncovering her legs he also finds only yellowish bruises. The stimpaks must have been doing their jobs, maybe she would be okay.

“If I believed in miracles. I'd have to say this was one, Jade.” The Ghoul lets out a breath he didn't know he had held.

Carefully covering her before he makes his way back to the roadway. Walking as quietly as possible, listening intently for anything that might be hiding out around them. The Ghoul was surprised when he heard noise, birds chirping, insects buzzing, something that looked kind of like a squirrel running across the path. The darkness having faded to more of a distant hum then an outright threat. It was still eerie, the feeling of something lurking just on the edges of his perception. With the clear feeling that they needed to get out of here before nightfall, The Ghoul would rather avoid a trip down memory lane again.

A shot of chem clears his mind and numbs the endless stream of thoughts, ending the neverending horror of images bombarding him. Senses pinpointing to what was around him. Rolling his shoulders he grabs the sled laying it out onto the road. Walking into the forest he finds Jade, carefully lifting her. She groans, shifting a little in his arms, brow scrunching together before she relaxes.

The Ghoul watchs for a moment, a small spark of hope sitting somewhere in his chest. He carefully brought her out to the sled, placing her and their stuff on it before grabbing the ropes to start moving again. The heavy weight of the rope feeling comfortable against his shoulders as he moved them forward.

***

It was nearly dark by the time the Ghoul made it out of the tree line. He had heard a high-pitched call coming from behind him. He wasn’t sure if it was the thing they had tried to kill or something worse. Moving off the road he tucked them back into a large hollow tree, Jade hadn’t moved since that morning. Her skin still didn’t feel any warmer and she was still breathing. Moving her off the sled he covered her with his coat and using some extra clothes to prop her up. Digging through her bag to find another stim-pak and injecting it. Watching her closely to see if he there was any reaction.

“Got us in a right mess,” He said settling down against the side of the tree, he dug around in his pocket to pull out his inhaler, taking a shot. “Not gonna lie, was touch and go t’ere last night. I don't know where we’re, but I think I will pass on doin’ that again. As for what you did, that was some grade-A action movie shit you pulled the other day. Jumpin’ down that thing's throat with a machete."

He laughed at his comment, looking out through the small trees in front of him. The stars are just visible through wispy clouds. He dug around taking a swig of water. His body aching from pulling Jade for miles. Grateful that he hadn't seen any delusions this evening, it was hard enough to deal with the horrors in front of him.

“Shoulda probably left you, had plenty of opportunities,” He mused, tucking his jacket around her. “But I’ve kind of grown to like ya. Plus ya do shit like that. The stories I am gonna have by the time we make it to the West Coast. Maybe sit down and write your story. The woman who couldn’t die.” Raising his hand to the sky like he was showing a title card.

He shifted taking his hat off as he settles against the tree, a fire would be awfully nice. But the way the ground was rumbling it was best to keep a low profile. He took another hit of chem, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight, whatever was out there was still moving way too much for his liking. No tonight he'd keep an eye on things, he did his best not to think about what might happen if they needed to move quickly.

“Gotta say, of all the critters we could run into. T’was a hell of a way to start. The thing was piecin’ itself back together, ya probably won’t believe me.” He sighs, stretching his legs out, every muscle groaning from the exertion of the day.

“Wonder who made that, maybe some kinda FEV thing. Didn’t think they’d was messing with that anymore. But who knows, maybe the Enclave.” He gestured around the little space. “Or hell maybe it's aliens. Think there was a comic book, they were these colorful drawin’s kind of like books but in art. Anyways. Maybe that’s what it is. Damn aliens.”

***

The light had just started to break through the darkness, the tall grass sparkling with dew. It was almost beautiful. The Ghoul sat perfectly still, the rumbling had started not too long after the sky had started to lighten up. The way the woods went quiet, the feel of heavy footfalls shaking the ground beneath his feet. The gun was heavy in his hands, body aching from sitting and listening. He wondered if it was coming for them if it could smell them holed up in this old dead tree, but the footfalls turned. Headed south, walking into the trees. What caught him so off guard was how no trees snapped as it moved through the woods, it was as if the trees parted to let it through. As it kept moving the birds started singing, frogs croaked, and other critters began to move.

Sagging a bit, the Ghoul scooted over to his companion. She had moved a little overnight, shifting and fidgeting as if she were dreaming. A few muffled sounds but besides that, not much else. He took off his gloves and felt their forehead, constantly needing to reassure himself that she was still alive.

His arms still hurting from dragging her, the next outpost was at least a day away without dragging a half-dead body. Digging around his bag he found a chem, red inhaler, he shook it against his ear, there was still a pump, maybe two.

“Damnit, you’re gonna hate me for this.” The Ghoul sighs, leaning down he goes to give it to her but pauses. He remembers her telling him how she’d been drugged. The first few days she’d traveled he had seen how sick she was coming off of them. Was he really going to do the same thing those slavers did?

Swallowing, he chucked the inhaler into his bag. Cursing, wanting to throw things, Jade was going to kill him, if she didn’t die first. Taking a puff of his own chem, he reached down to grabb the sled, when she groaned. Stopping, he ducked down to take a closer look at her.

Eyebrows scrunched together she blinked a few times up at him. He uncovered her a bit as she coughed and sputtered, trying to sit up. Helping her up he rubbed at her back gently, the stitches from previous wounds catching against her shirt.

“Take’re easy there,” The Ghoul said quietly as she sat, coughing up some black goop and blood. He watched the black, half expecting it to move on its own. Instead, it lay motionless beside the droplets of red. “Get it outta yah. Better out than in.”

Jade's body shudders as she shifts trying to get comfortable, wiping at her mouth, she froze holding up her hand. Her brown eyes going wide as she looked at it , holding it up in the early morning light. Her first two fingers and thumb, a dirty bandage covering where the other two had been.

“Where are my fingers?” Jade asks voice raspy, the Ghoul had blanked on when exactly he had stitched and wrapped them. It had been some time in between walking and taking breaths of chem.

“Yah had a good grip on that machete you used to slay the dragon.” He replied, with a small amount of mirth.“I didn’t have much time to find them, had to get us moving.”

Jade wiggled the remaining fingers, looking back up at the Ghoul with a confused expression. “Weird, still feels like they are there.”

“Yeah, we can see what we can find at the next town, maybe sew new ones back on.” The Ghoul sighed trying to look her over. The chances of them finding usable fingers were low, much less attaching them so they were usable. Jade didn’t have the same regenerative qualities he did, and he doubted they’d find a Codsworth bot with the capabilities.

“Fuck, did that thing land on my head?” Jade groaning, rubbing at her head a little. "Or did you knock me over the head?" Her eyes were a little glazed but she seemed to be on the up, with a crooked smile. Even having the energy to make jokes.

“Thought you were dead,” Ghoul said, his chest tightening seeing her grinning again. “Wasn’t sure ya were gonna wake up.”

Jade blinked a few times, she moved her hands, rolling her shoulders, bending her knees up, and wiggling her toes. “Did you really think I was dead? Besides the fingers, everything else looks okay. But my shoes are gone - my feet look bruised. I liked those shoes. ”

Ghoul sat back against the tree watching her, “Yeah the thing, whatever the fuck t’was, landed mostly on top of you. Had to cut yah out of it, your ankles-" He pauses, looking at his companion who has gone back to staring at her hand. "Your ankles were a mess, so I cut your shoes off. Sure there will be some better ones for yah at the next outpost."

“Why were you dragging me this far? What were you going to do? Eat me?” She teases, as she kept flexing her different body parts. Wiggling her toes some more and bending her ankles as if to make sure they were connected.

The Ghoul chuckled, “Shoulda have known ya’’d think you were worth of eating.”

Jade smiled, “Thank you.” Her brows furrowed, "I really wish I knew your name. So I could thank you properly.

He sat there for a moment, they needed to get moving, but he couldn’t help mulling over what she said. He fiddled with his fingers, the gloves still on his saddle bag, feeling the different scars. He remembers the way the people he had lost had said his name. Did he even tell them his name? Clenching his jaw he makes his decision.

“It’s. Ahh. It’s Coop. Cooper.” Cooper swallowed, the name feeling strange to say out loud. When was the last time he had said his name out loud?

Jade moves, handing him back his duster, “Coop, it’s a good name. Better than old man.” She wiggled her toes holding her hand out. “Mr.Cooper, would ya mind helping me up. See if these feet will hold me.”

Cooper was up grasping her hand and helping her stand up, she winced as weight went onto her very bruised joints. She moved a few steps, the dirt covering her pale toes in mud. He held onto her arm making sure she was doing okay. He could feel her tense up as she moved.

“Gotta taker slow, you're still bruised,” Ghoul said, watching her move away from him. “I got some med-x in my bag, or some stronger stuff.”

Jade winced moving back and forth, “Maybe the Med-X. See how it goes from there.”

Cooper grabs it quickly, handing her the syringe. She took it, her fingers lingering on his for a moment, her green-streaked eyes watching him. Before she closed them, putting the needle into her neck and pressing down. She wobbled a bit and the Ghoul grabbed her before she tips over.

“Forgot how hard it could hit,” She groaned, wincing some before righting herself, without moving away from him. “Coop, you are warm and I am having a hard time moving away.”

Cooper smiles slightly holding her against him, “Just till your meds kick in.” The warmth of her body suck a stark contrast to the last few days journey.

“Gone be hard without shoes,” She sighed, righting herself, still keeping herself leaning against her companion. “But I guess we better get going.”

Part 8

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*someehow we made it, probably one of the hardest chapters I've written in a long time.

*likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated. Please continue to feed me and the characters

*Updating one or twice a week depending, please note my schedule is getting hectic but I will continue to update! Please be patient with me

@pixelatedprofilepic @hiddlebatchedloki @toogaytofunctiondangit

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snailsgoingdowntown · 3 years ago

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Downfall | Yan! Ayato

yandere Ayato x fem! Reader

Pt. 1

Warnings: general yandere themes, obsessive and possessive thoughts/behaviors, mention of verbal abuse, implied power abuse, mention of blood and vomit, minor character death, stalking, implied threats/past threats, self-harm (nothing major nor was it done in a way that was supposed to cause injury knowingly), broken rips, mention of a one-sided fight. Tell me if I miss anything please.

disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the toxic or dangerous thoughts and behaviors that take place in this piece of fiction. None of these actions and thoughts should be considered romantic or even normal as they extremely toxic and dangerous.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!

Reader used to be a crazy stalker and it bites her in the ass.

A/N: I spent days on this only to end up with 5 pages.

Unedited.

Wordcount: 2588k

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You used to be obsessed with him.

With the way his light blue hair would sway in the wind and bounce with very step he took. The way his eyes would light up and turn into purple gems whenever he saw something he was interested in. The polite smile he would show the people whenever he made one of his rare appearances. The fresh scent of rain that followed him everywhere and left traces of it behind. A handsome young man who held so much power in the palm of his hand yet was treated as a puppet.

You used to be obsessed with him, Kamisato Ayato.

No, to be completely honest, you were obsessed with the idea of him, rather than the real him. Flesh and bones that you couldn’t touch, the voice you barely, if ever, heard, eyes that never looked at you – all of it didn’t cease your longing for the man for a good while. A lovesick fool who let her interest become an obsession over a man she only shared one simple conversation with. If you could even call it that.

It was nothing more than an exchange of words for politeness.

Yet it somehow fueled your curiosity about the man. Maybe it was the thought of a silly romance like ones you’ve bought in the form of light novels. Giggling at the thought of a forbidden romance that would survive no matter what came there way. Desperate for something to distract you from the bleak life you led, you emerged yourself in them. And, unfortunately, after a while, you were a bit too influential.

Reality and fiction started to mix, and before long, you became obsessed with it. With him.

The way you met could be called romantic. But considering what took place afterwards – obsessing over him, becoming his stalker – it wasn’t. It was the start of something painful, dark and twisted. It was the start of your downfall.

You still remember it, sadly – accidentally bumping into him as you sneaked out from your house. You were younger then, young and hardheaded. Still are, but not to the same degree, and certainty not over the same thing. Apparently, he was also sneaking out, if what he said was true. He held a finger up to his lips, prompting you to keep it a sweet little secrete between the two of you. Of course, you agreed – it was a rebellion, in a way.

It made a wildfire grow in you; blooming flowers that couldn’t be kept tamed anymore. It made you feel alive and was like a scene out of a light novel. It distracted you from your jaded day-to-day life.

And you clung onto it like it was your lifeline.

Looking back at it, you supposed that it was normal to feel butterflies futtering away in your chest. He was your first ‘love’, first secret to be kept, first experience that didn’t involve behaving like the perfect daughter. And if it had stopped there, simple daydreams of starting a secret relationship with him without acting on it, it would have been fine. But it didn’t stop there, instead it grew like weeds that were sapping up everything that made you, well, you.

You became a deranged stalker, constantly trying to find ways to get closer to him. To make him notice you, any attention considered good, even if it was disgust You wanted his eyes on you, thoughts full of you – you wanted to haunt like a nightmare that was treated as salvation. Like he was to you.

His downfall, his savior, it didn’t matter – you just wanted to be part of his life. And, well, it was obvious that something was on your mind. That you had changed, like a Yokai had possessed you over night. And it could have been that you wished it was. Something – someone – else to take the blame for you.

But it wasn’t.

Letters and gifts that were addressed to him that should have been ripped apart and burned. Catching a glance of him whenever he made one of his rare public appearances, engraving the sight to memory, his white suit always standing out among dull colors of the crowd. Eyes that held nothing but obsession that belonged to you – it makes you sick. All of your past actions make your stomach churn, shame and embarrassment filling you up like water.

There was more that you did. More extreme things that almost claimed your life:

Attempting to join the Yashiro Commission.

Now, in the present, you question how come you were never arrested for charges of stalking. Of how you weren’t watched like a hawk, making sure you didn’t make any unusual or dangerous movements that could pose a threat. You should have been on a watch list, if not thrown in jail.

It was only later that you would find out that yes, you were watched. You were tracked like prey, the predator waiting for the perfect chance to strike. You didn’t notice the stares back then, didn’t hear the light footsteps that would surround you, only wondering why it felt eerie even during the day. Red flags always look normal when you’re wearing rose-tinted glasses.

Extreme training that left you sore for days, broken limps and black eyes – a sacrifice you were willing to make back then. The Yashiro Commission was looking for new recruits, and despite not having any talent for ninjutsu or combat, you tried your luck. The training program took you in, expecting you to improve at least enough to officially join. But you never did, always lagging behind like a snail racing against a fox.

You weren’t suited for the Yashiro Commission and the Yashiro Commission wasn’t suited for you.

Denial can be a scary thing. It can make someone refuse to see the errors of their ways, continuing to ruin themselves for something that wasn’t even worth a second of their time. And you were full of denial after the first time of failing the test. And the second time that left you with bruises for days, the third time you were knocked out for days. You just kept… failing over and over again

And each and every time, you would beg for another chance, on your hands and knees with your forehead almost touching the ground. They would accept every time, and looking back at it now, you’re not sure if it was because they pitied you or because they were under orders to do so. The second one makes more sense, was more likely, just by the looks they would share with each other – uncertainty that stained their eyes like dye. Your dignity was thin and snapped easily whenever it came to anything that remotely involved that man.

Dignity that slowly but surely came back throughout the years, the less obsessed you became whenever you bothered to think about it. It was three years you spent chasing and stalking Ayato, questioning yourself. Did you really want this? Or did you clung onto something that felt different without real cause? It consumed your thoughts, constantly trying to justify your behavior only to doubt yourself moments after.

The clearer your thoughts became, the more you started to act like your past self – lively, social, friendly. Logical.

And then, the incident that helped you make your final decision.

It was a training exercise that went terribly wrong. An ambush of Treasure Hoarders that singled out the newbies – or least skilled – and lured them away from the main group. But it should have been obvious, from how the wind felt, the extra pair of footsteps that tried to align with yours – suspicious. But you didn’t say anything, thinking it was part of the exercise. Mistake number one.

Mistake number two was when you separated from rest of the group when you heard someone calling for you. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, right? It was a gamble, what you would come across, a gamble you thought was harmless, only to get beaten so had you came out alive with two broken ribs and a black eye. The taste of blood, dirt and vomit engraved itself into your memory, never forgetting it even months after the fact. Even now, sometimes you think you can hear your ribs crack again.

An arrow engulfed with electro, landing straight in the treasure hoarder’s chest, a gloved hand that covered your eyes as a smooth voice told you to rest – Kujou Sara was the one who rescued you. Apparently, her and her trope was in patrol and just happened to overhear the commotion. A miracle? Was it something he planned? You’re not sure.

You’d like to think it was a miracle, that General Kujou wouldn’t listen to a man like him. A snake that coils itself around you, strangling you. Each breath you take could be your last, each sight you see could turn blind. Each step you take could crippled you. Everything you do was noted down as you were followed. You guess that now, he would claim it was for your safety.

Three months spent in bed, being watched over by a doctor, any sort of freedom gone – like you couldn’t be trusted to stay out of trouble. Perhaps it was here, when you finally accepted the fact, you needed to stop that lifestyle. That the ‘love’ you held for Kamisato Ayato was nothing more than a dangerous obsession. You had lost yourself to the void only to be brought out of it by a close encounter with death. It’s laughable.

You didn’t have any close family, living with a grandmother who was emotionally distant. Verbal abuse that would be replaced with a warm meal, never fully apologizing for what she said or did. One of the reasons you drowned yourself in a sea of light novels and friends, which pointed out that you were getting caught too deep in. You brushed off their worries like dust, a tight smile as you objected. Something else you would soon come to regret.

You left the program with nothing but a letter, handing it to the officer in charge. He took it, read it, and begged you stay. Like he was in fear of his promotion being taken away. You had smiled, squatting down to his height as he bowed on the ground. You pat his head, whisper traveling with the wind as you told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And you had left, just like that.

And well, recovery from your mental state was quite the journey. Denial, shame, guilt, laughter and cries – it swallowed you whole. It left you awake late at night, staring at the sky filled with shining stars as everyone else was asleep. It cleared you mind, giving you a second chance at life. Peaceful, it was starting to become peaceful.

It only lasted for two months, however.

Letters you wrote that were returned to you in the dead od night, the gifts you made left in cute little boxes that were tied with the finest of silk. Flowers you didn’t even recognize left in front of your door, your name written on a piece of paper – it disturbed you. Horrified and scared you. Because it meant they remembered, knew and wouldn’t let you forget. You were sure of it.

It was a warning.

And now, back to the present, you got your answer.

“Excuse me, Lord Kamisato,” you try to push past him, only for him to stop you with one simple word. You’ve been bumping into him more lately, these days. You thought it was a coincidence the first few times, finding the Yashiro Commissioner buying boba tea or even giving one of his rare speeches. Handling things behind the scenes was usually what he did, staying away from the prying eyes of the public. According to his sister, miss Ayaka, he was never one to like attention.

Only when it comes from you though, it seems.

“Ah, it’s been a while, (name).” A smile that looks a little too sweet, a look in his eyes that sends chills down your spine. A gloved hand reaches up, removing a Sakura petal from your hair. You want to bite those digits off.

“Has it? I remember quite clearly that we saw each other last week,” hiding your frown behind your sleeve as you play coy. It was the only thing you could do, in a situation like this. If you let your fears of the man overtake you, he’ll get cockier, sly even. If you held your head up high, nose pointed away from him, he resorts to meaner plans. So, you are forced to play coy – not too prideful, but enough of it to where it forces him to take a step back.

This game of cat and mouse drives you insane, leaving you to scream into pillows and pull your hair out like a madwoman.

“Ah… yes, of course. But last week could have been the last time we saw each other –,”

“The weather is nice today. We should enjoy it while it lasts. Individually. It’s nicer that way, isn’t it?” You interrupt him, hands clammy as you hide them behind your back. Your smile holds nothing but bitterness that turns his mood the least bit sour.

“Being alone with your thoughts isn’t always a good thing,” Ayato takes another step towards you, light blue hair shining in the sunlight. He looks like an angel. Shame he was closer akin to a devil or demon.

“My thoughts are better company than many others.” The way his eyes narrows lets you know you’re starting to cross a very thin line. Resentment dwells inside you, the longer you look at him the more power the urge to throttle him becomes. But he’s a vision holder, powerful both in terms of strength and politics. He was a lion while you were a rabbit.

He mulls over what to say next. Perhaps a warning or maybe he’ll offer – force – a tea invitation upon you. Something you can’t reject, lest you’ll be followed by the Shumatsuban more intensely once more. Usually, he would have grabbed a hold of you, and ‘politely’ suggest you take his invitation. But you’re currently surrounded by herds of people, some gawking at the sight and others minding their business.

He still has an image to maintain, willingly or not.

“My lady,” he starts off, a placid smile painting his features. It doesn’t reach his eyes or match his tone. “It would be an honor to take a stroll with you. While the day is beautiful, it pales in comparison to you.” Gently, he takes your hand the moment you show it by instinct, bringing up to his lips to deliver a kiss to the back of it.

It takes everything in you to not gag.

“My Lord… this is inappropriate behavior to display in public.” The hairs stand on the back of your neck. Your body is creaming at you to run and hide. You really were a rabbit, a meek and defenseless rabbit ready to be eaten.

Ayato, damn the bastard, offers another smile. Your other hand, still hidden behind your back, clenches. Nails dig into your palm deep enough to draw blood. You want to pull your hand back and slap him for even touching you. You want to scream bloody murder.

“You used to be so loyal to me… if only you still were.”

You were the cause of your own downfall.

----

Tag list: @99-nct @lawsfav

@spacegayparty @bubblemintchocolate

@myschevious

#yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere ayato #yandere kamisato ayato #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #yandere ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato x reader #yandere ayato x reader #tw: yandere #tw: verbal abuse #tw: possessive behavior #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: stalking

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theweirdhybrid · 2 years ago

Note

How you think the wukongs would have reacted if they met corrupted king and the lady bone demon

Hmmm, I have two answers, one serious and angsty and the other pure crack bc it’s one Wukong against five more, easy win yknow? (Unless more than one was possessed, that’s a different story 👀) So, I’ll answer it as them reacting to LBD (serious) and Possessed!King (comedic) separately. If y’all want the opposite reactions for either lemme know! (Also, if either of these situations were to ever happen timeline wise, the Wukong’s would’ve had to have arrived during season 3 instead of after. Reminder that this au takes place after LBD’s defeat, King’s possession and Mac’s redemption. However, I am willing to make a timeline where they arrived during s3, if anyone is interested in that idea. I’m a writer and I have many ideas regarding this concept in general, all y’all need to do is ask for them :])

:: Lady Bone Demon Reaction (Serious) ::

Fear and a sense of unease, for the most part. Only four of the present Wukong’s have met her, and only one had trouble defeating her before. Remember, in King’s universe things are a little different, while for Uncle, Sage and Sunny (while Sage’s movie takes place during the Ginseng tree which is before he meets his LBD, I moved him just a little bit further up in his timeline for conveniences sake, and Sunny’s LBD was the Jade Witch) they killed/got rid of her with ease, King had to lock her away just to stop her and still couldn’t stop her without help both times. That, and this LBD was originally a goddess that, apparently, the Jade Emperor had personally known and trusted and was powerful enough to pose a genuine threat to the universe. She’s not someone to take lightly, and King makes sure to inform his counterparts of this.

Sunny would likely be the most uneasy of them all (King is not included bc we already know how he reacts to LBD), since he hasn’t faced anything of this magnitude yet. Despite that, he shows the most courage and hides his fear well, up until LBD sends him flying into a mountain so hard he’s out cold for a few minutes. Then he shows his fear, because the last few times he faced someone strong enough to take him out of the battle even for a minute he’d nearly died. He gets out of this one only a bit banged up, but still shaken. After that he takes to sticking close to the Not-Wukong’s (MK, Sandy, Pigsy, Tang, etc etc) to protect them should any debris or LBD herself gets too close.

Lucky, while wary, isn’t terribly concerned with LBD and is actually the most confident out of everyone present. Little reminder, Lucky never got trapped under the mountain, and thus didn’t experience getting his ass handed to him on multiple occasions and certainly not the torture the others did courtesy of Tripitaka. In fact, Lucky had a father figure. I mean he’s dead but he passed from age so like. Anyways, he’s the most confident of them all that they’ll beat LBD no sweat. He keeps this energy up until he sees Sunny get bodied into a mountain and then not get back up, then he stops pulling his punches and starts taking the fight seriously. (RIP to LBD’s host, she’s not dead but she’s definitely feeling those broken ribs)

Sage, being the arrogant monkey he is, tries persuading the others to let him handle this one, he’s got this. I mean he defeated a demon ancestor on his own and came out the other side alive and got a sick god mode form out of it, he’s got this guys- only for the other Wukong’s to tell him to cut the shit because they know he’s actually scared they’ll get hurt and wants to handle this on his own bc if he died once and came back stronger because of it he’ll probably do it again right? Wrong. So, basically, Sage is incredibly scared he’ll lose this new family he cares very much about and wants to protect them by taking the danger on himself, which is a trauma response to the last time this happened and he witnessed his entire family die right in front of him. So. Hm. Yeah.

Dasheng keeps everyones morale up, gives pep talks and pops shitty jokes at every chance he gets to keep anyone from spiraling from fear, which is his own way of stopping himself from spiraling into the ever-present fear he’ll be too late to save those he cares about and will have to deal with the knowledge he was this close to saving them, but was ultimately too slow to stop their death.

Uncle is, surprisingly, the most serious about the whole situation. He keeps everyone focused and on task, directing them on what to do and where to go on and off the field. Again, trauma response. Everything these guys are doing in this situation can be boiled down to a trauma response. They are scared and they are trying their best and they’re refusing to outright say so because they’re Wukong’s and a true Wukong never admits his feelings amirite?

They end up defeating her, obviously, but not before they get a lot of scares and quite a few humbling moments. The only reason they struggle is because they’re all simultaneously trying to take LBD down and trying to keep each other from getting horribly injured and also avoiding each others attacks. It’s one thing for one Wukong to fight one enemy with a fuck ton of replaceable clones, it’s another for six shooting off one powerful attack after another while simultaneously dodging their enemy and each others attacks that go awry.

:: Reaction To Possessed King (comedic) ::

While initially they’re put off by the possession thing, it very quickly turns into glee. Finally, an excuse to see who’s stronger! Oh, uh, what? Yeah yeah totally trying to get him back don’t worry just give us another thirty minutes I haven’t seen if he can withstand being crushed under the staff yet-

It very quickly turns into one big game of keep-away, where they keep King and LBD high enough in the air everyone on the ground can watch peacefully while eating some snacks and making bets on whose stronger. One monkey tests their mettle against King, while the others make sure King and LBD stay in the area of the sky they’ve designated as their arena.

The entire thing frustrates LBD to no end and she is so fed up she drops her host (who is quickly caught by Mac and returned safely to the ground) and takes advantage of the brief scramble to catch the host to try and body Dasheng. Emphasis on ‘try’. Dasheng, the powerhouse that he is, swats her away like a fly and sends her into a mountain. This breaks her hold on King, whose first reaction to being free is “Fuck, I wanted to keep fighting!!” Which earns some Looks from Mac and everyone on the ground. Listen, in his defense, he has never been able to go all out against someone that wouldn’t immediately die in one hit, it’s exciting being able to do so for the first time! MK stop- stop looking at me like that-

#into the wukongverse au #lmk #one situation causes more trauma for the wukongs the other gives LBD trauma

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yandere--stuck · 3 years ago

Text

Grim - Yandere!Grimdark!John x Reader

[Warnings: Suggestive, graphic body horror, mentions of blood and gore]

---

John had watched you die. Not long after he had died himself.

He had seen the dead body of his father, lying on the floor beside Rose's mother. The scent of wine mixed with the stench of blood and death, making the Heir wrinkle his nose in disgust.

He didn't know why he didn't cry. He didn't cry at a lot of things. He didn't know why. Maybe he never learned how.

Or, maybe, it was the comfort of your presence at his side. The feel of your arm brushing against his, the sound of your voice hitching in shock. Even if he no longer had his father…. At least, he had you.

Maybe Dave had been right, the game had been bad news. They probably shouldn't have played it. Really, it had only brought ruin into their lives - into the lives of all it touched.

But it's not like they were the only harbingers of the apocalypse. And if you all hadn't played it… He could have lost you. It's not like he wanted to die, or that he didn't care about his dad or his friends, but you were the most important thing in the world to him.

Really, the main reason he had wanted to play was to finally see you, one on one. Rose was his best friend, but he felt disappointed that you weren't his server player, and jealousy at Jade being your client player. But, finally, to close the loop, he was your server player.

His excitement in seeing you, taking in everything about you, made him lose himself, and he ended up smashing his face against the screen of his laptop. The exhilaration and euphoria of seeing you and serving you almost overpowered the terror at the prospect of you dying, of you not making it to your planet in time.

But, you did eventually make it. The relief made John's heart burst with joy, hugging his laptop to his chest, trying to imagine the warmth of the machine was your own body heat. He made goo-goo eyes at you through the screen, resisting the urge to kiss the pixels that made up your form.

He had to continue making progress, but he was terrified of you getting hurt - so, he alchemized his glasses to include a screen that displayed your status in the game. This way, he could check up on you and carry you with him, outside of pesterchum, at least.

Vriska kept pestering him, eventually convincing him to fall asleep on his quest bed, saying something about "god tiers", apparently it was something even higher than the usual tiers on one's echeladder.

The next thing he remembered was awaking on some sort of chess board-esque battlefield with some little chess guys on it. Luckily, he was able to borrow his dad's car in the meantime (good thing his dad had gotten on his ass about *finally* getting his driver's license… Though, did he really need one if he was controlling it with his new windy powers?) And he had even managed to reunite with dear, sweet, precious Liv Tyler! Though… She was a lot more robot-y than before.

The thought of sharing her with you made him absolutely giddy! And the idea of you being a co-parent to Casey… God, it made him smile so hard his face hurt!

And! He had even gotten a cool hammer! You'd certainly be impressed by his strength and his cool moves. John would prove himself to be a great, protective boyfriend for sure!

A looming darkness caught his attention, and he felt himself pulled toward it. It seemed to come from a large castle shrouded in darkness. It didn't seem to be natural, like from a thunderstorm. It didn't seem to be from a fire either, the darkness neither smoky nor smelt of burning.

His eyes widened as he focused on something in the midst of the darkness - and he let out a gasp when he realized it was you!

He kicked into gear, rushing to meet you. You were dressed in your dream planet pajamas - and you looked so cute in them! As you turned, hearing him approach, he had to fight the urge to not fling himself at you, pulling you into a tight embrace as he spun you around in his arms.

He shook himself out of his daydream as you spoke to him, explaining that you had seen the darkness, as well, and wanted to investigate. It seemed to be coming from within the castle. Of course, John offered to accompany you inside. If anything went south, he'd be there for back-up!

He had to hide his grin and blush as the two of you ventured in, you sliding up beside him for reassurance.

Walking through the cavernous halls of the castle, you were horrified to find the bodies of so many innocent people strewn about, blood and viscera covering the walls and floors. The bodies, as alien as they may have been, were clearly. This was a massacre.

But, beside you, John felt… Nothing. It was sad, sure, but… You were still alive. And that was all that mattered, really!

You jumped when you stumbled upon a living person, John moving in front of you protectively. You held your breath as the figure turned, revealing…

Rose?

Though, she looked much different than what little you had seen of her. Her skin had turned a ghoulish gray, her eyes as black as night, and her eyes seemed to glow, illuminating her face. And a darkness seemed to surround her. It emanated off of her, stretching above her like tendrils.

Could… Could Rose have done this?

John seemed completely unfazed, greeting Rose with a wave, saying something about her "finally going grimdark."

Rose let out a noise that sounds something like a giggle, her lips quirking upwards. She tried to speak, but the words that came out… They weren't even words, you think. It sounded fuzzy, but also incredibly, painfully loud. It didn't sound like any noise a human could make, like TV static blaring in your ears, or switching through radio stations with no signals. It was suffocating and loud and- everywhere. It felt as though Rose's voice was everywhere, all around you, inside of you.

You were sure you let out a scream, but you only heard Rose's voice - even as you screwed your eyes shut and clamped your hands over your head, all you could hear was the noise…! It felt as though your ears were starting to bleed.

John's hands clamped down on your shoulders, bringing you back to the moment. You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling heavily as you tried to ground yourself.

Rose's eyes were full of guilt and concern, a pained expression on her face as she turned away.

As you tried to ground yourself and recover, you barely noticed John caressing your shoulder with a thumb. Nor did you see the deadly glare he sent to the back of Rose's head.

It's not like he didn't love Rose, but he loved you far, far more. If she ever hurt you again… He couldn't be held responsible for what he'd do.

The both of you followed Rose through the castle, the girl not able to bare turning around to face either of you. Still shaken up, you kept your head down, not wanting to look at the bodies or gore. John held you close to him, stroking your arms up and down to comfort you.

He had to fight not to smile, the feeling of your skin on his was electric.

Eventually, Rose guided the both of you out to a balcony of sorts - and you stopped dead, gasping in horror.

John's father and Rose's mother… Both dead on the ground. Murdered.

You couldn't help it, you turned to face John. The man's face was one of shock, his breathing shallow as he processed the scene in front of him.

His dad… He couldn't believe it. He had just seen him. He was right there… He felt his heart break.

Oh, and what was worse… You had to see something this awful! Oh, you poor thing! He had to get you away from here…!

But, everything happened so fast. All at once, a figure appeared - a man with the face of a dog and the body of one of the many, murdered chess people, armed with a sword. Instinctively, you stumbled back - and John turned, reaching out for you, terrified of losing you.

Before he could even call out for you, his words got choked up in his throat, replaced with nothing but blood. Pain exploded from his abdomen and his back, ocean eyes widening as they focused on the sword going straight through him.

The figure pulled the sword free, the Heir grunting in pain as his organs were ripped apart, blood gushing from his open wounds. As John fell to his knees, trying desperately to hold himself up, he spat out blood onto the white, marble floor. Slowly, he sank to the floor, eyes growing dim as, in his last moments, he tried to find you.

---

Coming back to life, John found, was a lot like waking up - the slow awareness of consciousness, the disorientation. A sudden burst of energy hit the man as he felt himself be rejuvenated, colors exploding across his vision. He blinked as he regained his sight, the world fading in from white. He swiveled his head, trying to find you.

In the distance, he could see Rose and the dog-man battling over the battlefield, blasting off magical attacks at one another. His heart pounded in his chest.

If she was there, then where were you?

Looking down, he surveyed the balcony. The body of his father, Rose's mother, and-

Oh. Oh, God. God, no, please!

The Heir felt tears strain at his eyes, his mouth pulled into a pained, horrifying grimace. He fell hard to his knees, kneeling above your body.

"No, no, please!" He choked out a sob. "Please, please, wake up!"

John clutched at your body, fisting the fabric of your pajamas in his hands as he shook you, desperately trying to get you to regain consciousness. He could feel his eyes and cheeks begin to sting with tears. His breathing was shallow and fast, having to use his powers to try to even it out.

He sobbed, all words incomprehensible by now. He let out sobbing screams as he clutched your body close to him, already feeling the warmth leaving you. He pressed, desperate, messy kisses to your lips and face - but, it was no use. Your real body and dreamself had both died.

He doesn't think he had ever cried before now. Only you made him feel so strongly. He loved you. He only loved you. He needed you. He couldn't lose you.

He couldn't.

Without you, life was meaningless. You were his only reason for playing this game. His only reason for doing anything - for living, for breathing. You were perfect. You were everything.

But, without you, there was no point. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair!

Grief and rage filled him to the brim. He grit his teeth and he screwed his eyes shut, eyebrows knitting together.

The air tasted of electricity, and without his knowing, the dark clouds that swirled from above dripped down and encircled him like an inky blaze.

And John let out a scream.

Or, at least, he had tried to. His cry had been cut off by inky, black tendrils forcing their way inside of his open mouth. The tentacles came from everywhere, from the gloomy clouds from above the darkness that surrounded the man.

The eldritch beings that had given the Lalonde her current state had felt power within John's rage and sorrow, as well. The outburst had drawn their attentions - feeding off the darkness within him. They would remake him in their image, as well…

John gagged as the tendrils snaked their way down his mouth and down his throat, his neck bulging from the amount of vines forcing their way down his throat. John could barely breathe, writhing in desperation to get air into his lungs. He tried to use his powers, trying to suck in air through his nose in an attempt to somehow get oxygen through the vines' air-tight hold in his throat - only to let out a strangled, muffled scream as tendrils slipped up into his nose, reaching up into his brain.

If he could have, John would have gurgled or spit up around the tendrils, but he didn't even have the ability to do even that. The Heir's limbs spasmed as he tried to reach up to yank the tendrils out, only for more to snap the man's arms against his torso. Even more came to wrap around John's legs, restraining his legs and tying them together.

More tears bubbled up from his eyes as he felt the tentacles curled around his legs, thighs, stomach and chest - almost caressing him, as if gently teasing him. The tender touches only served to contrast the agony of the tentacles spreading further into his body, ripping through his throat and into his stomach and intestines.

The pain was so unbearable that if he could have, he would have puked, but the tentacles blocking his throat and mouth would have never allowed him to do so.

John swore he could feel himself bleeding internally, but in truth it was the feel of the darkness spreading all throughout his body, taking hold of him, corrupting him. He could the darkness clog his arteries, wrap around his bones, fill him up to the very brim with itself - somehow, despite the unknowable agony he was in, John had managed to stay aware, but only barely.

Until, the tentacles that had filled up his nose plunged deep into his brain. The man's body jerked wildly, twitching and spasming as the darkness overtook and corrupted his mind. Dark grey overtook and crawled up his skin. His dark hair slowly turned from his natural hair to a stark white. His eyes, forced to say open, lost their irises and pupils as they were lost in an impossibly bright, growing white.

As the tendrils finally burrowed completely into John's body, deep inside him - a horrible scream erupted from his body, making the ground below him shake and crumble, inky darkness flowing like smoke from his open, shrieking maw, now filled with fangs.

---

You awoke with a start, taking deep gasping breaths. God, your head hurt, and your back wasn't exactly feeling any better. Felt like you slept on stone… Rubbing your head, you looked down, confirming that you had, in fact, slept on stone. It had a distinct symbol on it, and looking at the front of your new outfit, it seemed to share the exact color and symbol.

You stilled suddenly, blinking, realization washing over you. An ominous presence seemed to loom over you, making a shiver crawl up your spine. You turned, and jumped in place.

It was… John. Or, what looked like John. He grinned, looking upon with an eyeless stare. It reminded you of how Rose looked before. Had… Had whatever happened to her, happened to him, too?"

"John… What's going on?" You asked, eyes flitting around in confusion. Somehow, John had taken you all the way to your planet after you…

You…

You died, hadn't you?

"John…?" You settled your focus back on him, letting out a gasp as he pulled into an embrace.

A rumble seemed to emit from within his chest… Was… Was he purring?

You settled into his hold, trying to hide your nervousness. "What happened back there? What happened to you?"

John's expression flickered to one of nervousness, before opening his mouth to speak.

You let out a yell of pain, the sound all too familiar to you. It suffocated you, overpowering even your own yelling, incomprehensible, ear-bleeding static that seemed to drill straight into your eardrums, into your mind, and your very being.

You had only realized John had stopped attempting to speak when he clasped his hands over yours, easing them from your head and holding them in his own. Whimpers bubbled up from his throat as he leaned forward, nuzzling you.

You laughed nervously, detangling your hands from John's to pet at his now-white hair. "It- it's okay, John. We… We just need to find out how to get you back to normal, okay? And then, we can get back to Rose and the others and-"

You were cut off, letting out a soft grunt as John pushed you back down onto your quest bed. A powerful purr rumbled from within him, leaning down to kiss and lick at your neck.

You were stock still for a moment, before letting out a shocked laugh, not knowing how to react. Your hands wormed your way to his shoulders. You chuckled, trying to push him off of you. "John, I- now's really not the time-"

In one swift movement, the grimdark Heir was able to pin your wrists by your head, letting out a playful growl as he straddled you.

"John…" You could whimper, voice dying out.

John only responded by diving in, kissing and licking hungrily at your neck and shoulders, occasionally pressing hungry kisses to your face and lips, swallowing your whimpers and moans.

John's purrs seemed to surround you on all sides as he dug his teeth into your neck, claiming you as his own.

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fandomvariousness · 4 years ago

Text

Finally

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence & death, nsfw content

Summary: reader finally sees her lover Eren after the team retrieves him to the airship, yet he’s not the same. Will she bring him back?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Forgive me if some details are inaccurate, this is my rendering of the situation, so some things may not add up!

Finally.

Finally, the day you’re going to see Eren again.

You shivered with anticipation, thinking about the letters that were going sparse, until there were none. You’ve been inseparable, supporting each other every step of the way, but Eren had to deal with unthinkable, horrible things along the same steps too, and you couldn’t take all of it away – the burning hatred seeped into his brain, numbing his senses and compassion.

He offered no explanation in letters as to why he’d stopped writing so often, and you didn’t ask for one – he’s in enemy’s land, surely he has his reasons, but deep down you knew he was pushing you away.

What were you going to say to him? Will you hug him? Will he hug you? You had no idea, and it was killing you.

Your adrenaline was over the roof. Everything around you was destroyed, splintered, ground to pieces – Eren did that.

It seemed that you lost it when you realized that Eren had transformed without the care of hurting innocent civilians – his sense of revenge was stronger than anything else. You haven’t been able to approach him yet, to look into his mesmerizing jade eyes. You suspected Captain Levi has positioned you away from him on purpose – who knows how you and Eren would’ve reacted to each other’s presence after so long.

You felt the insides of your stomach turn as you hooked your cables on the airship and zipped-lined towards it. Just a minute ago you saw how Mikasa made it inside, dragging Eren along. You heard a commotion above you – Captain Levi was cussing Eren out. The casual.

You felt how everyone stopped whatever they were doing as you were climbing on board – secretly, they all wanted to know what will happen once you two meet again. That’s how powerful you two are. Were.

Out of breath, you stood up, regaining your posture, your rifle still in hands as you finally looked at him: if not for the emerald sheen of his eyes, you wouldn’t have recognized this ragged, miserable man with a chestnut resembling that of a lion.

You stared into each other, the unbearable grief that consumed you rendering you immobile. Quickly, your vision worsened, tears blurring your eyes as you realized there’s nothing behind those of Eren. He looks at you, yet doesn’t say anything, doesn’t feel anything.

“Move,” Captain Levi muttered and lightly pushed you aside.

You tore your gaze away from Eren, breathing shallow breaths as you stumbled towards the wall, leaning on it.

And then you heard the shot.

It was unbearable. One fleeting moment, one slightest miscalculation, and she’s gone. Sasha is gone.

You kneeled beside her tomb with your head hanging down, hot teardrops sinking into the pale stone. Everything was always shit, but now… now it’s pure hell. You sobbed and raised your head to look at the cloudy sky, cutting off the air flow, trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey,” Jean approached you, Connie not far behind. “Come here.”

He crouched down to your level and placed his palms on your shoulders reassuringly, helping you stand up.

Eren was nowhere to be seen. He kept to himself in his quarters, but Captain Levi forbid anyone to properly visit him anyway. He thought Eren’s unstable.

But you thought the opposite. Eren’s perfectly stable – the deadly precision, calculation and determination fueled his conscious, revenge-fueled decisions, and frankly, you were afraid. He wasn’t thrashing around like he would years ago, screaming and tearing everything apart, consumed by fury – he knew what he was doing now.

The last time you laid eyes on him was during Sasha’s funeral, but it seemed that he wasn’t even there. His body was, of course, but his mind was fleeting somewhere else, somewhere where he could continue plotting the utter extermination of every last one of his enemies.

It’s going to be hard, bringing him back. Hell, you didn’t even know if it’s possible – he truly looked like a goner. But you were going to try, because there isn’t any other living being in the world you love more than Eren Jaeger.

You sat on your bed, facing the one that belonged to Sasha. She would tell you to stand up and go straight to Eren and whoop his ass for ignoring you.

You sank your teeth in your lower lip as you stood up and made your way towards Captain Levi’s office.

“Come in,” his low voice muttered after you knocked. He rolled his eyes when he saw it’s you.

“What is it?” he asked, his desk already stuffed with a bunch of paperwork.

“I need to visit Eren.” you realized how selfish your request sounds in the midst of everything, but you couldn’t help it.

“No.” he answered after a few seconds of regarding you, without any care in the world. “You’ll just wind him up.”

Your heart skipped a beat – if Captain Levi thought that Eren still feels something for you, then maybe it’s true.

“Please, Captain, I –”

“Stop whining, brat.” he hissed, silencing you.

There was a wall of miscommunication between the two of you as you stared at each other, trying to convince one another silently.

He put down his pen after a few moments and leaned back in his chair as he sighed slowly. “You’re gonna do it anyway, aren’t you?”

You shrugged ever so slightly as you stared at nothing in particular.

Some more silence passed. “I’ve not yet decided on giving you week’s-worth punishment for insubordination, but go. Get out.”

“Thank you, Captain.” you bowed your head to him quickly, suppressing your smile as you basically ran away.

Levi rubbed his forehead. “Stupid brats.”

As you approached the door of Eren’s room, your heart pounded against your ribs so hard, you truly thought they’re going to crack. Yet here you were, standing within a step from the door, eyeing the little crack of light that emits from within – it’s not completely closed.

You lifted your trembling arm and knocked softly, then once again, harder this time, thinking he may not have heard it.

“Eren?” you whispered weakly after you got no reply once again.

You gulped and pushed the door further, stepping in – empty. He’s not here.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you stepped further, looking around. The whole room looked almost untouched if not for the sack of a few items he brought from his old room. Your eyes flicked towards a stack of letters on the desk – your letters.

Your lower lip quivered as you approached them, picking one up – not even opened.

Pain and anger spun like a vortex inside you, bringing hot tears to your eyes. How important must’ve been the reason that he denied you the slightest explanation?

The letter dropped back to the desk as you flinched, hearing the door shut behind you.

Gasping quietly, you turned around, seeing him clearly for the first time since a couple of days ago. He stood there in all his cool, newfound glory: hair long enough to be messily gathered in a bun, naked torso adorned with chiseled abs, V line protruding from his waistline, and pants that hugged his muscular legs.

He had a toweled hanging over his shoulder – that’s where he’s been, in the showers.

You didn’t know what was the exact reason for the hot blush that crept to your face in a second – the fact that Eren is even more attractive than you remember, or that you stood there like a mute, with your jaw basically on the floor.

His own gaze was unreadable – he watched you like a hawk as he approached the chair and draped the towel over its back, stuffing his hands in his pockets afterwards.

You snapped awake, glancing at the letters behind you, and then back at him. “You never opened them.”

“You need to forget me,” he spoke, staring directly in your eyes. “I’ve only have a few years left anyway, if I’m lucky.”

It hurt you how assured of his words he was as you turned your body from him, desperately trying to calm down. He stood there just the same when you dared to look at him again.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, failing to conceal the tremble that laced your voice. “I’ve told you countless times, I’m with you until the end, and even then.”

“That’s exactly why.” he raised his voice just a bit, reminding of the old Eren you used to know. “I can’t bear the fact that you’re okay with… all this.”

You covered your face with your palms momentarily before stepping a couple of steps closer to him. “Did you honestly think I’ll go down with this scheme of yours?”

“I’m determined to make it happen.”

“Eren, don’t be stupid!” you couldn’t control yourself anymore. “I’m not some… weak maiden in need of constant attention! I’m your partner!”

“You want to be partner of the monster that I am?” he asked, a faint hint of disappointment in his voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Eren…”

“I’m a murderer.” he said as he lessened the space between you a little more, trying to impose his truth on you – you could almost feel his breath on your skin, what made another shiver run down your spine.

You opened your eyes abruptly, because you knew he expected that you won’t be able to even look at him after what he’s done. His jade eyes were the same as before as you drowned in them.

You couldn’t help as you placed your dainty palms on his ripped upper arms, the tips of your fingers jolting with electricity. Eren felt that too, for you heard him draw in a sharp breath.

You were going to say something, but right now you couldn’t focus on anything other than your skins touching again, after all this time. You gulped as you gathered courage to lightly stroke down to his forearms.

“You’re not a monster.” you spoke again. “You’re just a hurt boy who can’t help but hurt others.”

He stayed silent, because he knew it’s true. You always did this to him – always had one last argument that made him shut up. His eyes became glassy as he looked down in shame, gripping your own forearms in his calloused palms.

“Come here,” you mumbled as you wound your arms around his neck, cradling him, as his own arms snaked around your waist, head buried in the crook of your neck.

You were only hugging, but it felt ecstatic. You gripped him tightly, swearing to yourself never to let go again. You felt a few wet drops run down your shoulder, yet Eren didn’t release a sound – you knew he was holding back.

“I’m sorry for everything.” he whispered. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Eren, you’re never getting rid of me.” you whispered into his hair before planting a tender kiss on his head.

He released a breathy laugh, tickling your neck. You nuzzled into each other more, and then you felt his lips on your neck, pecking it lightly, immediately blazing flames in your lower region.

You arched your neck back, providing him with an easier access to your skin. You couldn’t suppress a small gasp as his hot breath trailed up to your jaw, along with his longing-filled kisses.

“I missed you.” he whispered against your jaw, before pecking just below the corner of your lips.

Your mind was already in shambles. “Believe me, I missed you more.”

Your lips finally collided: desperate, needy, hungry. His fingers dug into your hips, aligning your centers as your palms slid down to the either side of his neck. You moaned into his lips between the famished, open-mouthed kisses as he gripped your behind, trying to savor it all.

Your palms were running down his chest on their own, exploring every crevice and scar, some old and some new, still unexplored. You felt his hand slide under the hem of your shirt up to your ribs, leaving a scalding-hot trail in its wake.

You rutted your hips against his automatically, getting needier with every passing second, your hands hooked around his neck again, holding on for dear life.

Your jaw slacked as he sneaked his hand under your bra, his fingers coming in contact with your hardened nipple. He drew back a little so that he could see your flushed face and hazy eyes, a light sheen of saliva reflecting from your slightly lolled out tongue.

“More, you say? Just how much?” he teased, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips repeatedly, the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly.

“Really, really much,” you whimpered before he discarded you of your shirt and bra, his hands roaming down your sides as he sucked on your jugular, your hands buried in his hair, ruining his bun.

“Jump.” he said between the wet kisses as you felt his hands under your thighs.

He made his way towards the bed before gently dropping you down on it, feeling the tent in his pants become unbearable, almost painful. How could it not, when you lay sprawled out under him, hair messy around your head like a halo, all the while needy breaths escaping your lips?

You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but you wanted to drive him crazy, to make up for all the painful time you’ve spent apart. You started wriggling out of your leggings, your gaze never leaving his eyes. He unbuttoned his own pants before they slid to the ground, revealing a formed tent under his boxers.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by your calves and yanked you closer, forcing a yelp from you. Second after his lips crashed on yours again, making their way down, passing your neck, collarbones, stomach, until they reached their destination.

You found it hard to breathe as he kissed your inner tight, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Eren,” you whimpered, your eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. “Please…”

You felt him smile against your thigh before his tongue flicked against your clothed clit lightly, coaxing another high-pitched moan from you.

You put the back of your hand against your mouth quickly, embarrassed at the sudden reaction. You felt the bed shift before you opened your eyes and saw him parallel with your own body again.

“Don’t,” he asked as he removed your arm from your face. “I want to hear every little sound you make.”

He kissed you once before making his way back, hooking his fingers on your panties and sliding them down painfully slowly. The cold air on your skin peppered it with goosebumps, yet when you felt Eren’s face lower to your center, your body ignited once again.

A moan got stuck in your throat as you felt Eren’s slick tongue go all the way from your entrance to your clit, circling it, literally driving you crazy.

“Eren,” you moaned, the back of your head buried into the mattress as you wound your hands through his hair, completely ruining the bun, his chestnut hair falling to the sides and framing his face.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he pleasured you with his tongue, awakening the passion in you that was dormant during his absence.

Eren loved the taste of you on his tongue as he sucked on you, holding down your squirming hips. He knew you were close; he remembers everything your body language tells him.

“E-Eren, I’m gonna—” you choked out, confirming his observations.

You felt cold air hit your slick folds as Eren drew back, quickly discarding himself of his last piece of clothing before he leaned down, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Ready?” he breathed into your lips, receiving a nod.

The burning sensation followed his dick breaching your entrance, stretching it out after so long.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth, having forgotten just how good your pussy feels.

You choked out a groan as you wound your legs around his waist, urging him to plunge deeper, despite the slight pain that strains you.

“This good?” he asks between his heavy breathing as he makes his way deeper into you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod quickly, your voice out of tune.

He finally hits your cervix, staying like that for a few moments, allowing you to adjust, peppering your neck with kisses as your chest rises and falls heavily.

You kiss his lips as you place a hand against his buttocks, urging him to go on. He goes back to the point of pulling out before hitting you deep again, building up his pace as he does so.

Your mind is getting hazier with each thrust – it seemed that the room turned into a sauna as you could almost see the huffs of air that escaped both of your mouths.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he groaned against your ear as he pinned your hand above to your head, intertwining his fingers with yours.

He was barely controlling himself as your pussy clenched around him – he probably never had to restrain himself with you as he does now, regarding the absence of your touch for such a long amount of time. You’ve never been apart that long, and he hoped you’ll never be again.

“Eren!” you screamed, sensing your release fast approaching as you wound your hands around his neck.

He pounded into you hard, bringing some steamy memories of your times before for a moment.

Finally, you fell, arching your back, your stomach gliding against his, as every nerve of your brain exploded. Eren continued thrusting into you until a few moments after you felt his own release spilling inside you.

He moaned against the crook of your neck, planting a few kisses. He rolled to your side and faced the ceiling with his eyes closed, until they snapped open again, hearing you sniffle.

Guilt washed over him like a tempest as he leaned on his side, gently gripping your waist as you covered your eyes with the back of your forearm. “Did I hurt you??”

“No!” you yelped and removed your arm from your face, placing your palm on his cheek instead. For a moment you were so frightened he would blame himself for something he didn’t even do.

“No,” you repeated, more softly. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

He leaned his forehead to yours, worry leaving his body almost visibly. He sighed as he brought you closer.

You tucked a few of his locks behind his ear, making him look a couple years younger. “I love your hair.”

Eren chuckled, his eyes still closed in the afterglow bliss. “Captain hates it. He said –”

Then it dawned on him. “Wait, how did you get here?” he leaned on his forearm as he looked at you, genuinely interested, amusement threatening to widen his smile any moment.

“I simply asked Captain.”

Eren raised an eyebrow. “And he let you?? Just like that?”

“Well,” you trailed off. “He did mention something about a punishment for insubordination…”

“Unbelievable,” Eren whispered, as he sunk back into the mattress, quiet laughs emanating from his chest, as you drew shapes on it with a stupid smile on your face. “And you still came.”

“I’ll be fine if you visit me at least twice while I’m behind bars?”

You two laughed even harder, and this moment, this tiny moment in the vast space surrounding everything, was perfect.

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h34rtizuku · 3 years ago

Text

𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶

i hate angst without happy endings, but i’m also self-destructive. therapy is expensive, but ripping your own heart out and bearing your insecurities into a full-fledged story for you and others to read? free.

warnings : angst without a happy ending, insecurities, jealousy, mayhaps toxic behavior?? idk if ur looking for a good time, this isn’t for you bestie <3 also i might misspell uraraka’s name wrong a few times, i’ll fix them later :*

being quirkless had its advantages. with such a small number of us being born without powers, it left a lot of the mundane jobs open.

which is why, as soon as pro-hero deku opened his agency, i came to him with the request to be his assistant.

on the daily, he had people coming up to him asking for internships or to be his sidekick. but he never had anyone ask to be his assistant.

being the number one hero often meant that every day things, things one may take for granted or deem insignificant became just another list of things on the busy man’s to-do list.

therefore the appeal of having someone file his paper work and run to get him coffee in the morning was great enough to hire me.

and i was glad he did.

this is what i have been working for since i was a first year in high school. after watching the freckled boy break limb after limb to defeat his opponent.

yeah, i saw it as irresponsible and stupid that he had to break his own body to save others. but i was willing to overlook it.

my one goal during my remaining years of high school and up to college was that wherever that little green haired boy went, i would follow.

and that reigned true as his assistant. i would shuffle after him like a duckling following it’s mother, wherever he needed me.

if he needed me in a briefing to take notes for him, i was there. if he needed me to put in overtime to help him file the last minute paperwork, i was there. if he wanted a particular pastry from a specific bakery half way across town, i was there.

izuku was never mean, or demanding. always thanking me profusely for anything i ever did for him. leaving me to remind him that this was my job, and any way to make his life easier was good enough for me.

but maybe i should have held onto those blushed cheeks and crinkled eyes as he thanked me for the coffee that he didn’t even know he needed, for a just a little bit longer.

you know how a child will open a new toy on christmas and it quickly becomes their new favorite toy? playing with it non-stop, taking it wherever they go. until one day, they grow bored of it and never touch it again as it grows dusty at the bottom of their toy bin.

i know izuku wasn’t doing it on purpose, he didn’t have an intentionally mean bone in his body. i guess you could say, some other toys came around and took his attention away.

and that toy, was a particularly difficult mission in collaboration with uravity’s agency.

the two spent long hours cooped in his office as they went over notes, plans, intel, etc. until the conversation melted into talk about the old days and the wonderful memories they had together in high school.

i went to work the following days with absolutely no energy to handle whatever would be thrown at me. i hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as when i closed my eyes the only thing i could see was the look in his eyes when he saw her.

my patience was already thin given the events of the most recent week, but when the printer started malfunctioning leaving me unable to fax the papers izuku wanted me send, you could say that was the first domino.

i swatted and kicked and pressed any button on the stupid machine. telling myself i was merely trying to get to stupid thing to work, but deep down i knew that the printer was just my temporary punching bag. an outlet to unleash my anger and emotions onto something instead of letting them fester inside me.

so when one of izuku’s sidekicks came by, giving a snarky comment about my behavior, i was able to brush it off with a roll of my eyes and an equally snippy comment back.

but as the hunk of plastic remained steady in its plan to ruin my day, the lack of sleep and lingering resentment started to bubble within me once more.

i heard footsteps behind me and a joking voice say, “having a bit of trouble are we?”

if it weren’t for the white hot anger buzzing in my ears i may have been able to identify the voice before i lashed out on them. but we already established this was not my day.

so as my hands moved to clutch the machine below me, most likely to restrain my abuse to merely verbal instead of physical. i spit out, “listen i’m fucking trying okay? so how about you get off my ass and do something useful.”

i turned around to face who i thought would be another sidekick sent to push my buttons. but i instead came face-to-face with the green haired man himself.

eyes blown wide, mouth agape in shock, a light blush dusted under his freckles as he fought to handle the situation the best way he could.

but i beat him to it with a deep bow and an endless flow of apologies, opting to only blame my anger on the malfunctioning piece of junk behind me and not the several other reasons i was plotting murder in my head.

with a gentle smile and a soft chuckle he placed his hand to the back of his head, rubbing at the baby jade hairs of his undercut. “i see. bad days happen to the best of us.” he replied, his voice like honey.

i became drunk on the minor interaction he was giving me, bringing me back to the beginning days at this job where we would spend late nights trying to keep each other awake under the only singular yellow light as we finished paperwork. or where sometimes he’d invite me to spend lunch with him as he felt he’d enjoy the company.

i got lost in the intricacies of his face as he tampered with the printer. thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration, bottom lip captured between his thick scarred fingers as he muttered to himself.

i fell in a trance, locked on the slope of his button nose, his gemstone eyes, and chubby caramel cheeks dusted in freckles.

he looked essentially like the same boy i saw on the screen all those years ago, yet matured and hardened by the realities of life.

i wanted nothing more than to reach out and protect him any way my small quirkless body could. to be there for him the same way he was for everyone else.

he eventually got the printer to work with a boyish smile on his face as he told me that despite the good roughing up i gave the machine, he was able to locate and handle the issue. “next time, skip the punching and come find me, yeah? i’ll help with any problems you face.” he joked as he made his way into his office to resume his work.

i didn’t know it was possible to fall harder for that man, but he proved with every day of his existence that the impossible didn’t apply to him.

i was finally able to get some sleep the next few nights as my eyelids filled with the blush on his cheekbones and his gaze of concentration.

but my trip to cloud 9 didn’t last very long as the occasional meeting with uraraka became trips to her agency, and occasional meetings in civilian clothes to civilian places, like coffee shops and corner stores.

to anyone else, those would read as dates. to me, they read as dates. but izuku assured the gossiping sidekicks that it was strictly professional ~ nothing more, nothing less.

i knew that i would end up with more fits of restlessness and sleepless nights as i pictured the two of them laughing over a cup of coffee. so i sought out a replacement.

a moment. a look. a sentence.

anything directed at me that would choke out the ugly thoughts and images my brain would show me of the two of them together.

so that afternoon as i brought him his lunch, i placed the box safely onto the table beside him as he continued skimming through the papers littered across the desk.

he muttered a small ‘thank you’ but it wasn’t enough. as my hand moved to place his drink that i held in my other hand next to his food, a different idea popped in my head.

my hand moved faster than my brain could register what it had just planned to do. squeezing just enough for the lid to pop off and slip from my fingers to tumble into his lap.

as soon as the liquid and ice hit his lap he flew up from his seat and away from his desk.

my hands flew up to my mouth as a string of apologies fell from my lips. eyes watering in guilt as they moved around the room trying to locate something to soak up the mess with.

“i am so sorry, my fingers slipped and before i knew it i had lost control of the cup. i-i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” i rambled as i took my blazer off to wipe at the wet stains starting to form at the bottom of his teal suit.

“hey, hey, hey.” he said softly, taking my tinier hands into his large and battered ones. warmth enveloped my clutched sticky hands as he gently urged me to stand from my crouching position in front of him.

“it was an accident. no harm, no foul.” he said with a soft smile.

i should feel bad, as it wasn’t entirely an accident. but the warm and gentle look in his eyes made what little guilt i felt crumble away.

his thumbs rubbing soft circles to my skin as he worked to get the tears to stop streaming from my eyes was enough to get me to sleep like a baby for a good 2 weeks.

until it became a cycle. he would spend too much time around uraraka, and then i would do something all in the name of garnering his attention back on me.

was it wrong of me to do, to take advantage of his kindness? to take advantage of the fact that he was naive to my true intentions? maybe.

but i felt i deserved it. i felt i deserved to be looked at the same way he looked at her.

i wasn’t any different than she was. with the way she used her big brown eyes to pull him in. or the way her cute behavior made him blush. or the way her sweet way of talking made him laugh.

i can’t be her, or compare to her. so i found my own way around it. and no one could fault me for doing so. they just couldn’t.

at the end of the mission, uravity decided to throw a party in celebration of their win. a nice formal gathering, with everyone she had involved.

when izuku pulled me aside one late night to tell me that he was extending the invitation to me felt akin to a marriage proposal.

i wasn’t involved much in the case, merely being used as the one who provided them their lunch on their long meeting days. or filing and organizing the paperwork and notes that they would compile. i wasn’t out in the field, breaking bones like izuku or saving lives like uraraka.

i didn’t deserve to go, but i didn’t care. izuku had invited me personally and damn it, i was gonna be there.

yet, i shouldn’t have gone.

i shouldn’t have spent the hours on my makeup. i shouldn’t have enlisted the help of my best friend to do my hair as i gushed about how izuku had personally invited me, how he was the most perfect man ever, and how i was undoubtedly in love with him.

i shouldn’t have spent the week leading up to the event going from shop to shop trying to find the prettiest dress that was just the exact color of his eyes. i shouldn’t have spent about half my paycheck on said dress when i found it.

i shouldn’t have decided to face my fears and step out of my comfort zone to join a group of heroes that i knew were old classmates of izuku’s as they whispered about something that clearly was a raving topic.

because then i wouldn’t have heard how izuku was planning on confessing to uraraka. i wouldn’t have heard how this mission caused old high school feelings to rekindle. i should have known my place.

and that was far away from here, from the hero scene. i should have grown up to be an accountant or a chef.

when my father took me to get that checkup when i was 5, to confirm that there truly resides no quirk inside me.

i should have left it at that.

when i was riding my bike that day as a first year and i saw the group of boys huddled around a screen as they tuned into the u-a sports festival, i should have kept riding.

as maybe it would have saved me a lot of pain.

i backed away slowly, heels tapping against the tile floor as i hurried out of the building.

i didn’t realize how suffocated i felt until the chilly autumn hair brushed my face and into my lungs.

my whole body felt hot, i felt numb. i stumbled onto the sidewalk as i looked into the dark azure sky glittered with stars.

the tears finally spilled from my eyes as the stars muddled together into a messy blur. my stomach swirled and tensed as pit of nausea sunk in my stomach.

my chest heaved as it tried to process the crisp cold air into oxygen, but my throat was too tight to let much in.

i gasped and sobbed as my back hit the brick behind me, my legs wobbling unable to carry my weight much longer.

i slid into a crouched position as my tears mixed with the black of my mascara. streaming in pools down my cheeks, neck, and chest.

in the midst of my sobbing and heaving, i called my friend who was still at my apartment awaiting details of that night when i came home.

knowing it was far too early for me to be calling her she picked up the phone with confusion. it didn’t take much words from me, not like i gave her much, to convince her that she needed to come pick me up.

as she hung up the phone, my hand slipped from my ear, falling limp to my side as i placed my head into my other arm resting atop my knees.

this was inevitable and i knew it. no matter how many ways i was able to manipulate a sweet glance from him, it didn’t mean anything.

izuku was nice to everybody. sweet to everyone. kind to anyone.

but with her, it was different. he treated her that way, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

they had years of memories, of laughs. they were perfect for each other, both smart, and kind, and always looking to help others. never acting selfishly or for personal gain.

they shared soft touches like they did old stories. they looked at each other with the same respect and admiration.

i was wrong. uraraka and i are nothing alike. she didn’t have to beg izuku to look at her like she hung the moon, he did so without asking.

unbeknownst to me, as i was manipulating izuku into these fabricated moments of gentle gazes and kind words, i was manipulating myself.

lying to the deepest parts of me that knew that this wasn’t real. that i wasn’t her. that he didn’t think of us the same way.

to him, uraraka is an old friend, who views the world the same way he does, who shares his same passions, who built her quirk to do some good within this world.

to him, i was a coffee-getter, the girl who knew his lunch orders like the back of her hand, the girl who filed his papers. the quirkless little fangirl who practically begged him to give her a job under him.

i heard the metal door open and snap shut announcing that someone was now outside with me. however, i just assumed it was a party-goer stepping outside for a smoke or a phone call so i didn’t bother to look up.

i also wasn’t in the mood for if the person happened to be a drunk girl who was ready to become my therapist as she saw me crouched on the sidewalk wishing to become one with the cement and simply cease to exist.

“there you are, i was wondering where you went?”

i would have taken the amateur therapist over this.

the voice belonged to izuku, dripping with sugar and default kindness.

if i could become one with the bricks just a little bit faster that would be great.

“hey, are you alright?” his tone became worried but i still didn’t dare to look up from my arms.

“do you feel sick? did something happen? do i need to take you home?” there he goes, into hero mode. ready to drop anything to help anyone facing the slightest of inconveniences.

“please just leave me alone.” i mumbled, throat tight and voice wavering as i try to hold the tears that still remain to fall.

“what did you say? i didn’t quite hear you.” he said softly, gently setting his large hands onto my exposed shoulder.

they should feel like welcoming warmth, but instead they felt blistering hot as i shoved them away as quickly as i could.

“i said leave me alone.” i said, slightly louder as i no longer was stuffed in my arms and knees.

he immediately saw the mess my face was in, i could tell by the way he quickly reverted fully into deku.

“hey, what’s wrong? whatever it is, i can help. didn’t i say you could come to me whenever you ne-“

“oh my god just stop! i can’t take it anymore.” i snapped, finally able to look him in the face.

but not for long as i saw the same look on his complexion as the first time i snapped at him.

“you’re too fucking nice. leaving you vulnerable for people to take advantage of you. giving them a reason to be selfish.”

“i dont-“ he tried to start but i cut him off.

“i don’t need a hero, izuku. there are people you just can’t save.”

as he worked to wrap his head around what was happening, my friend pulled up in my getaway car.

i bent down and grabbed my purse, but before i could fully escape this night, izuku grabbed my wrist causing me to stare into his eyes.

now lit aflame with desperation, “please just tell me what’s wrong. let me help you.” he encouraged softly.

but i wasn’t going to fall for it, not again.

i wasn’t gonna be played for the fool as i took the soft look in his eyes for anything but the gaze of a hero hoping to add another save to their statistics.

“god you never know when to quit!” i yelled as i yanked my wrist back. “and i hate that i-“

loved that about you?

no, love that about you.

i shook my head, thankful that for once my brain caught my actions before i spilled and made a mess again.

i walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door almost as fast in hopes that within its metal sanctuary i could finally escape this hell.

“y/n- i-“

“mr. midoriya.” i just about whispered, my energy long since drained.

he laughed gently and i cursed the way my heart squeezed a little at the sound.

still head over heels for the angelic sound.

“you haven’t called me that in a long-“

“i quit.”

“w-what?” he muttered in disbelief.

i wouldn’t believe it either, not after the way i came to him nearly 4 years ago saying i would even be willing to clean toilets if he asked me to, so long as i got to work for him.

“i quit.” i repeated.

“you don’t mean that.”

he’s right i didn’t, not really.

hot tears started to dribble as my lower lip puckered in a sour quiver.

“no i do, sir.” i shook. “i will send someone to collect my things on monday.”

and with that i closed the door.

“drive.” i whispered to my friend who after a moment of looking at me, trying to read me, silently put the car into drive and started forward.

leaving izuku behind to stumble after the car, mouth muttering, trying to form any sort of sentence or sense.

but i couldn’t see him, knowing not to look at the mirrors situated on the side of the vehicle.

for they too are liars, as objects in the mirror are farther than they appear.

*** my little blue bitch working overtime

🧼 also mayhaps “soap” by melanie martinez fits this story… unintentionally ~ but if i’m wrong it’s cuz i haven’t listened to it in a while

#izuku #izuku midoriya #deku #deku x reader #izuku x reader #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #izuku angst #deku angst #deku headcanons #deku imagine

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calamitykaty · 4 years ago

Text

Breathe You In

Alive!Luke x Fem! Reader

Requested: Yes and no? This originated from an ask game and @dream-a-little-bigger-x asked what a story titled ‘Breathe You In’ would be about so...this is it.

word count: 3259

Warnings: mention of anxiety, I don’t think there is anything else but if there is then let me know and I will add a warning!

A/N: Huge huge huge shout out to @dream-a-little-bigger-x for helping me with this and letting me bounce ideas...and for encouraging me to write this one...and to post it cause I second guessed a lot with this one.

Luke stood on her porch, barely lit by the dim porch light with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes were red and puffy from tears cried beforehand. It had happened again. She opened the door and immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders like she always did. His arms tightly wrapped around her waist in response and he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

“You’ll be okay.” She assured him as she pulled back from the embrace. She lifted her hands to his face and wiped away the tears that gathered on her thumbs and smiled at him. Her smile was soft and nurturing, the way it always was when she looked at him. She was his constant, always there for him, never changing.

She wiped her hands on her jeans and grabbed the boy by the hand, pulling him into her house. Luke closed his eyes as he breathed in, vanilla and cinnamon filled his nostrils and eased the tension in his shoulders.

“What happened this time?”

Luke opened his eyes as the question lingered in the air. This time. There always seemed to be a this time. They fight and break up, kiss and makeup, and y/n was always left with the fallout. She was always left to pick up the pieces until Luke didn’t need her anymore.

“Luke?” She placed her hand on his bicep.

Luke wiped his eyes with the back of his left hand and shrugged “I’m just...I’m just never good enough for her.”

Y/N pulled her top lip into her mouth and hesitated on her response. This wasn’t the first time Luke had said those words to her and she could never wrap her mind around why he constantly went back to Olivia when she was standing right there in front of him, ready to love him the way he deserved to be loved.

“You are more than good enough, Luke.” Y/N finally settled on, she couldn’t stomach arguing with him about Olivia again.

Luke’s lips were on hers as soon as those words had left her mouth. She didn’t hesitate to kiss him back even though she knew it didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her. Luke needed comfort and she would settle a million times over for fleeting moments with him.

“Can I stay?” Luke’s forehead was pressed to hers and his thumb lazily traced the outline of her jaw before running softly over her bottom lip.

“Yeah--” she breathed out, “of course, I’ll get you some clothes.”

Luke dropped his hand from her face as she turned away from him and headed to her room. Luke followed behind her and stood in the doorway where he watched as she pulled open the bottom drawer of her dresser, his drawer. She pulled out a pair of flannel pants and a t-shirt and held them out to him.

Luke sauntered across the room and grabbed the items from her hand and began undressing. Y/N’s cheeks burned red and she averted her eyes from his toned chest to the floor.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, y/n” Luke teased.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Y/N changed the topic as she turned back to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt for herself. Her brows pulled forward in confusion when Luke grabbed the items from her hands and placed them back in the dresser. He avoided the girl's questioning gaze and pulled one of his t-shirts from the drawer reserved for him and handed it to.

“You’re ridiculous” She snorted but grabbed the t-shirt from his hand anyways and motioned for the boy to turn around.

Luke obliged but not with scoffing “and I’m the ridiculous one? I’ve seen your body before or did you forget about that time---”

He was cut off by the sound of his phone vibrating in his discarded jeans. He bent down and grabbed the phone from the pocket of his jeans. He turned around and faced Y/N, his eyes flicked between the name on his phone and the girl standing in front of him wearing nothing but his t-shirt. Y/N felt her heart drop as Luke’s thumb pressed the green button and he walked out of the room. Y/N stayed in her spot with her eyes on the door, she let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding in when Luke walked back into the room. She could see the smile that was threatening to take over his face and instantly knew what that meant.

“Let me guess, Olivia said she’s really sorry and that she overreacted and you should come over?”

Luke’s smile faltered at the coldness in her voice “Yeah, but I told her I would come round to hers later because I’m watching a movie with you first.”

Y/N pursed her lips and tried her hardest to not roll her eyes before she grabbed the remote from her nightstand and moved to the bed where Luke was already situating himself. She started the movie and laid her head on Luke’s chest, only half paying attention to the tv screen as Luke’s fingers tangled in her hair and massaged her scalp ever so slightly. Her mind began to race along with her heart and she suddenly felt like she was tearing at the seams.

“I’ll be back…” she muttered as she pushed herself up.

“You okay?” Luke looked at her with worry in his eyes.

“yeah...I just have to use the bathroom” she gave a tight lipped smile and excused herself.

Y/N closed the bathroom door and gripped the edge of the counter as her breaths came in desperate gulps. She closed her eyes and began to count in beats of four until her breathing slowed down. “Pull yourself together, Y/N.” She whispered to herself before letting go of the counter and staring at herself in the mirror for several seconds. The back and forth between her and Luke had been going on for almost as long as she could remember and she had always been fine with it. She had accepted a long time ago that she was always going to be the fallback, never the choice, but that didn’t stop her feeling like she was a flame being snuffed out every time he went back to Olivia.

Y/N wiped her eyes and took a deep breath before turning off the bathroom light and making her way back to her bedroom. She froze in the doorway at the sight of Luke putting his jeans back on.

‘You’re leaving? It’s been like twenty minutes…”

Luke shot her an apologetic smile as he placed the pajamas he had been wearing back into his drawer.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N closed her eyes at those words and how she despised hearing them leave his lips. How he always said those words before leaving her.

“Olivia called again and said something was wrong, I told her I would come over right away. You understand, right?”

Y/N opened her eyes and nodded, forcing a smile as Luke pecked her on the cheek before he passed by her to leave the bedroom.

“When Olivia calls…” she mumbled to herself and moved over to the bed. She turned the tv off and pulled the blankets tightly around her body, not bothering to try to hold back the tears as they landed on her pillow.

When she woke up it was to her cellphone vibrating wildly on her nightstand. She rolled over and pulled the phone free from the charging cord and swiped the green button before placing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" She mumbled through the receiver

"Good morning, junebug!" Her friend,Jade, sang through the speaker.

"Too early…" y/n muttered and cleared her throat to shake her morning voice away.

"It's almost 10am."

she could practically feel Jade rolling her eyes at her.

"I'm up, I'm up…" y/n sighed

"That's what I like to hear! Meet me at Bryan's in twenty? I'll have a latte waiting for you!"

"Mhmmm" y/n hummed before dropping the phone on her bed and stretching her arms above her head. She stood up and made her way over to her closet where she grabbed a pair of ripped jeans and her favorite jumper. She moved to the bathroom where she quickly changed before pulling her hair into a messy top knot and brushing her teeth.

She walked back to her room and grabbed her phone from her bed and shoved it into her pocket, ignoring the stream of text messages that flooded in from Luke.

"Juuuunnnneeeeebug!" She heard Jade shriek from the corner table as she walked into Bryan's Diner. She felt her ears turn red as several patrons turned their attention to her. She ducked her head down and scooted into the booth, opposite of Jade.

"You are so embarrassing!"

Jade folded her arms on the table and pouted "someone is in a foul mood today…"

"I'm sorry...I had a rough night and I shouldn't be taking it out on you" Y/n apologized and took a sip from the latte that sat on the table in front of her.

Jade pursed her lips, knowing that the cause to Y/N’s bitter mode was one certain green eyed, brown haired boy,

“You can just say it,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “I know you don’t like Luke.”

Jade hesitated as she got her thoughts together, knowing that she was approaching a sensitive topic with Y/N.

“You’re right, I don’t like Luke,” she reached across the table and grabbed Y/N’s hand, “ I don’t like Luke because of how he makes you feel, Y/N.”

Y/N opened her mouth to defend Luke out of habit. It was an instinct to always stand up for him, one that she had perfected after years of practice. She closed her mouth when Jade held her left hand up to her.

“I have kept my mouth shut for a very long time, Y/N, but I can’t anymore! I have watched that boy wear you down time after time and I can’t just keep watching him destroy you.”

“I’ll be fine, Jade.”

Jade scoffed and threw her hands up in exasperation “you shouldn’t be just fine though, Y/N! You should be great!” Jade's tone softened as she continued “you should feel loved and chosen and cherished…and Luke is never going to make you feel those things.”

Y/N avoided Jade’s gaze on her and instead focused on tearing the napkin in her hands into small squares,

“You don’t know that…” she whispered and watched the pieces of napkins float across the table from the deep breath she sighed out.

Jade closed her eyes and cursed herself for what she was about to bring up, knowing that she was going to be hurting Y/N by doing so.

“Do you remember junior prom?”

“Why would you bring that up?” Y/N dropped the napkin and looked up at Jade with her eyes narrowed.

“Olivia dumped Luke for the 100th time and he asked you to go to prom with him. You had the most amazing dress and you looked like a dream...and he left you standing in the corner by yourself because Olivia decided to take him back.”

“Jade, stop!” Y/N demanded.

Jade shook her head and pressed on “Do you not remember how heartbroken you were? How disposable he made you feel, Y/N? Has he really done this so many times that you’re just desensitized to it now?”

Jade paused and lowered her voice “I’m just saying, that you need to choose yourself, love. Because that boy has had every opportunity to choose you and he hasn’t….so stop choosing him. Choose you.”

Y/N licked her lips and quickly slid out of the booth, not bothering to notice that she knocked over her latte in the process. The milky brown liquid spilled over the edge of the table as she hurriedly made her way to the door. She gasped for air as she stood in front of the diner and contemplated her next move, deciding to walk through downtown to the used record store, the place where she had first met Luke.

She pulled her phone from her back pocket as she walked through the busy downtown sidewalk, shoulders bumping hers and apologies quietly escaping her lips for each person she bumped into. She clicked on her messages seeing a handful of texts from Luke that she had ignored earlier. She clicked on the first message and scrolled down through each of them. Without surprise, each message was Luke rambling about how he and Olivia had made up and everything was great. Y/N decided to not message him back and slid her phone back into her pocket.

She pulled on the door to the record store and stepped in, her eyes scanned across the rows of tables that were filled with cardboard boxes that held endless amounts of vinyls. She breathed in the unique smell of the store, one that she couldn’t recreate if she had tried.

“Hi, Don.” She waved to the man at the register as she walked towards the rock section. Her fingers grazed over the tops of the boxes until she stood in the exact spot she had met Luke.

Her dad brought her to the record store when she was twelve and she had started to show a real interest in music. She remembered her dad telling her to choose five albums and he would buy them for her and how she immediately gravitated to the rock section. She remembered how she pulled an Elvis Costello album out only to be met with resistance from a boy on the other side of the table holding the other side of the record. She remembered how even back then she had set aside her own wants for his and how she let him have the record, assuring him she would find something just as good.

Y/N swallowed as she thought back to what Jade had said about Luke not choosing her. She thought back to him leaving her the night before and every other time before that. She thought back to them being fourteen and Luke telling her he liked a really pretty girl and that Y/N knew her really well. She remembered blushing when she thought he was talking about her and how her heart fell to her stomach when he asked if she could help him get Olivia’s attention.

She thought back to the first big fight that he had with Olivia when Olivia told Y/N there wasn’t room in Luke’s life for the both of them. She remembered being so sure that Luke was going to choose her and she remembered feeling so low when Luke swung by her house after school and told her that she would just have to be his secret until he could get Olivia to come around.

Y/N was brought back to reality when the door chimed as someone entered the record shop. Her ears pricked at the familiar voice that said hello to Don. She looked over her shoulder to find Luke chatting with Don, his arms slung over Olivia’s shoulders as she leaned into him. Y/N bit her lip and made a beeline for the door. She had always seen Don’s as their place and it hurt her that he would bring Olivia there of all places. She swung the door open, ignoring Luke as he called her name out.

Y/N spent the next week purposefully avoiding places that she knew Luke would likely be at. She had ignored countless text and phone calls from him as she processed what choosing herself meant. Y/N sighed as she placed the last of Luke’s belongings in a box and headed downstairs to place them by the door. Her brows furrowed as she hit the last stair and heard a loud pounding on her front door. She placed the box down before opening the door to find Luke standing on the other side with his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw locked tightly.

Y/N sighed and moved to close the door only to be met with resistance as Luke’s hand held the door in place before he pushed the door open and slipped past her.

“You’ve been avoiding me, why?’ Luke snarled.

Y/N quietly closed the door and turned to face Luke. She could feel the hot tears rushing towards the front of her eyes and she blinked quickly to try to hold them back.

Luke’s face softened as he took in the girl’s demeanor and he stepped forward “y/n, talk to me, please? What did I do? I’ll make it better, I promise.”

He reached out to grab her hand but she flinched back and wrapped her arms around her body in an attempt to hold herself together.

Luke dropped his hand back to his side “Y/N, please…” he begged for a response.

“I can’t be this for you anymore,” she choked out and shook her head. “You...you’re like secondhand smoke and I keep breathing you in but I can’t breathe anymore, Luke.”

She looked up to meet Luke’s eyes and could feel the tears breaking through the rim of her eyelids

“I love you Luke and--” she choked on a sob, “ I can’t live this way anymore, I can’t be the spark in your life while Olivia is the flame….I’m the one that’s turning into ashes...a-and .I-i can’t do this.” Her hands frantically moved to her face to wipe away the steady stream of tears that were falling from her eyes.

“I think you should leave, Luke.” She avoided his eyes, knowing that if she saw how sad they looked she would just give in to him.

Luke moved forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders despite her resistance.“Please don’t do this. You’re my best friend, Y/N.” He whispered into her hair, his own tears tracking down his cheeks.

Y/N pushed against his chest and freed herself from his grip. She raked her right hand through her hair and laughed “that’s the problem, Luke.”

She moved over to the box by the front door and lifted it up before walking back over to Luke.

“I can’t pretend that I’m not completely in love with you, Luke. I tried so hard to do that already and look where that’s gotten me…” she shook her head and pushed the box into Luke’s hands.

“Please…” Luke choked out.

Her heart broke at Luke’s strained voice and it took everything in her to turn away from him and pull the front door open despite Luke’s pleas.

“Y/N, please, we can fix things! I can fix this….please let me fix this.”

It was a scene that had played out so many times in their relationship, Luke on her porch crying because his heart was breaking. Only, this time she was the cause for his broken heart and she was exiling him from her house instead of inviting him in.

“I can’t breathe you in anymore, Luke. I’m sorry.”

She gently closed the door and twisted the lock leaving Luke standing with his box of clothing in his hands and his heart at her doorstep.

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknightstatesmantrash @jazzyhales @bathtimejish @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv@aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @s0uz4s @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic

also @n0wornever I don’t know if you wanted to be tagged in this but this is the one from this morning that I finally finished

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fanfic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #charlie gillespie

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deniigi · 4 years ago

Text

hi I have something for y’all called a disaster.

I wrote an Inimitable!Spiderman/Modern Star Wars AU because no one can stop me, not even myself. it is like 47 pages long. I am handing it tenderly to y’all.

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Title: impossible scenario

Summary: Peter runs into some drunk assholes arguing, calling each other Han and Luke. He lets it roll off him until he can’t anymore and eventually finds himself for the first time on the other side of someone more chaotic than himself.

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There was an argument happening under a fire escape. Peter knew about it because a concerned dude wearing a fuckin’ Yankees cap had flagged him down with waving arms and told him that someone needed saving, Spiderman. Some tall asshole was kidnapping a young blond dude, the guy and his too-cool-for-him girlfriend explained. They’d heard the two scuffling.

Peter maybe stared for a beat too long at them because the gal pointed two blocks behind him and said, “That way. I think the blond guy might be drugged. He’s slurrin’ something strong.”

Peter liked her shoes. They looked like Miles’s, but blue.

“Spidey?”

Miles told Peter all the time that he wasn’t cool enough to wear Jordans. MJ and Johnny had agreed. Such sad times.

“Spidey.”

“I got it,” Peter sighed.

The gal tsked.

“Man, you’re too young to be this jaded,” she said.

Peter sighed.

“You’re the third person to say that this week,” he said. “You think I should go back to therapy?”

There was a pause.

“You know that answer, dude,” cool-gal said. “Go save the twink.”

Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.

“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”

Bye now.

“Apps, even.”

Bye, bye.

“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”

“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.

Two blocks away, there was indeed a man with dark hair trying to lift a violently intoxicated twink up onto the first steps of a fire escape. Peter examined his options. There were many ways to ruin a potential kidnapper’s day. His favorite involved coke and mentos, although he’d received feedback that that was a waste of perfectly good food. Down the list was also the option to walk over and scream bloody murder so that the kidnapper shat themselves and dropped their target.

That was good, but Peter was tired and the thought of mustering up the energy to scream at a noticeable volume made his thighs turn to Jell-o.

That left snark and violence.

Today, he would not choose violence. Only for today.

He strode out of his dark temporary residence between two dumpsters directly towards the tall dude and his mark. The mark was a messy one. Bless his heart, he was unwittingly making himself the most noncompliant victim to have ever victim-ed. Every time the tall guy got him almost vertical, he gave up his corporeal form to become drunk slime and ooze back to the ground with various moaning sound effects.

It would have been funny if not for the kidnapping context.

The fact that Peter had been standing there under the beams of two separate side-building security lights and neither of those two had noticed yet was also objectively funny—or would have been, if Peter had the capacity for processing humor at the moment.

Alas. This was what he got for telling Tony that he’d evolved beyond the need for sleep. He got caffeine-pilled. And there would be no true rest until that shit wore off, exhausted as Peter’s body yearned to be.

“Kid, work with me here,” the tall guy said.

“I can’t, I’ll die,” the shorter one moaned.

“Luke.”

“I’ve done my time—thirty years in AZKA—”

“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”

Peter was just standing here, fellas.

“Luke.”

“Why’s it always me? Why’s it always gotta be me? The hell did I do to piss off the whole galax-galaxy? HA. My bad, my bad. The whole universe?”

God, what a mood.

The tall guy dropped his grip on the smaller one and loomed over his puddle of ooze with poison in his gaze.

“People are going to die, Luke,” he said.

“So what? They’re always dyin’. Everywhere I go, people’re dyin’ and when it’s not them dyin’, you know who is?”

“Kid.”

“ME.”

“So you’re just gonna wallow there, feelin’ sorry for yourself?” the tall dude snapped.

“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.

This was not a kidnapping. This was a come-to-Jesus in the back alley of a bar. Peter was not needed here. He turned around on his heel and stopped when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Is that?” someone whispered.

“Don’t mind me, pal, just your friendly neighborhood—” he started.

“Look what you did,” Tall and Handsome hissed at Ooze-Man. “Someone went and called Spiderman on us.”

Peter lifted a brow as Ooze-man ripped its chest up from the asphalt and composed itself back into a human shape with fluffy blonde hair and huge wide eyes.

“Omigod, it’s Spiderman,” the guy said. “Wait, no. Gimme a hand. No, not that one, fuck off, nevermind, I don’t need you.”

He drew himself up to standing, only leaning slightly on his buddy there and gave Peter as lopsided smile.

“Hi, there,” he said with a twang that Peter couldn’t place. “Were you lookin’ for someone, handsome?”

Ah, they had reached the time of night when all the drunks needed to tell Peter things he already knew about his ass. He loved this time.

Not to mention that this dude looked eerily like Johnny. Scarily like Johnny. So much like Johnny that Peter almost wanted to take a picture of him to send to Sue so that she could print up some lost and found posters.

“Just lookin’ at you, babe,” he said. “This guy botherin’ you?”

The tall guy blanched and then grabbed at his face in horror. Peter swallowed his laugh.

“He sure is, hon. You got time to rescue me?” Blondie crooned.

“Luke, please. Please.”

“Because I’m in real distress,” ‘Luke’ said with a pout mighty enough to fell Thor.

“You sure seem like it,” Peter said. “C’mere. I’ll walk you home. Leave that tool, he ain’t worth your breath.”

He held out an elbow like proper gentleman and was pleased at the hand that Luke laid over his heart in response.

Peter could imagine Johnny��s face in six different expression of jealous horror at a selfie taken with this look-alike. Each was beautiful in its own special way. As payment for being referred to counseling by the public, he at least deserved to receive at least two of those faces.

“You mean that?” Luke asked him.

“He doesn’t,” his tall companion said.

“I sure do, where do you live? I’ll walk you,” Peter said.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, he’s gonna escort me,” Luke said, all choked up and fanning his eyes lightly.

This tall friend grabbed him before he could escape, though, and pulled him back behind his own body.

“Listen, Spidey, this is a misunderstanding,” he drawled. “I know this idiot—he is technically my idiot— and I’m the one escorting his ass home. Thanks, though. You’re a real menace. Beat it.”

MMMMMMM.

And here Peter had been planning on being jaded and miserable this fine night. How could he now when this dude was ticking every box that made him feel alive?

“What’s your name, dollface?” Peter asked across the short distance.

“None of your business,” Tall Guy answered abruptly.

“Luke,” Luke said around him. “Are you gonna save me?”

“In just a minute,” Peter said, striding forward with a hard roll in his shoulder and deep drop in his knees.

It was amazing how Tall Guy wanted to take some steps back all of the sudden. Peter couldn’t help but let a smirk widen his face as he advanced.

“Okay, hang on now,” Tall Guy said with both palms out in front of him. “You don’t know what this is about, Spidey. You don’t want to get involved with this, trust me. He’s just bein’ dramatic. No need to get testy.”

“You sure do a lot of talkin’ for your friend there,” Peter noted through his grin.

“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.

Ha.

Han. Han and Luke. Ned was gonna be enraptured when Peter told him about this later.

“Luke. Back me up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” ‘Han’ finally snapped. “I’m not doin’ this because I want you to suffer, alright? I don’t want nothin’ to do with it either, okay? No one does. But it’s this or—”

“Or everyone else,” Luke finished for him in a strangely toneless voice.

Han sighed.

“It’s always everyone else,” Luke said.

“Not here.”

“Why’s it always everyone el—No, no, here. Why not? We’ve got fucking Spiderman in our midst, how much more surreal can this moment get? No. You listen to me, Han—”

“I’ve been listening to you all damn evening and you know what I’m hearing?”

“—I lost my life for this. I lost my home, my aunt, my uncle, my hand—”

“I’m hearing you making this about you.”

“—everything I ever knew, and I tried to make it right, didn’t I? I made the school. I gathered the kids—”

“And it’s not just about you this time, kid. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, or Leia, or Chewie or—”

“—I lost my kid and the love of my life, and I finally get a second chance at finding them and giving them the goddamn happy ending they deserve, and the next thing I know—”

“Luke, you’re the only one,” Han said.

“I WAS NEVER. THE ONLY. ONE, HAN,” Luke roared out of absolutely nowhere, sober as a saint. “I was never the only one. EVER. Ahsoka. Go find her. She’s everything that I’m not and more. She’s the real—”

“Luke.”

“Stop saying that name. I HATE that name. I would do anything for twenty goddamn seconds where I didn’t have to be him.”

“You don’t mean that,” Han said quietly. His shoulders had rounded out and become black and heavy under the weight of their shadow. Luke’s eyes, however, looked like topaz.

“I mean it,” Luke said.

Oho.

So shit had gotten real tense, real fast, so Peter about to make a decision that was gonna make Shelley so proud of him she would weep when he finally slunk back in through her office door.

He was leaving. He was turning around and taking a wee jog. Maybe turning a corner, having a little jump over a fence, up a wall, to a place as far away from this one as superhumanly possible.

Bye, bye.

“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”

Peter stopped five paces away.

“They need you,” Han repeated. “And I need you.”

Peter slowly looked back to see that Luke’s face had twisted sharply out of the light, towards the alley wall.

“I’m sorry that we met again like this,” Han said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s always you. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

“Shut up,” Luke said.

“But if you don’t do something, then it won’t be just me and you and all these random others sliding back into that cesspit we all barely crawled out of.”

“Stop.”

“You’ll never find him if things go back the way they were.”

“You—you don’t know that. There—maybe—”

“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”

“Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Luke,” Han said reaching out and putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and clenching it hard enough that Peter should see the bunched fabric, “Do you want Din to live through this shitshow a second time? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

Peter shivered. The pressure at the base of his neck was building. The Spidey Sense wanted to hiss in his ears like white noise. It pinned him where he was, staring over his shoulder at those two solid shapes, one digging a hand into the flesh of the other.

His stomach turned.

Luke said something that Peter couldn’t hear. Han pulled him toward his own body by the grip he had on his shoulder. At first, Luke seemed to stagger, like he was walking on black ice. He stopped a single step away from Han’s body, still with his face angled severely away. Han said something to him.

There was a long pause, then Luke seemed to fall forward. Han caught him and crushed his head into his shoulder, lowering his own until it was almost touching Luke’s ear. They clung to each other.

Luke was crying.

The Spidey Sense started to crackle and pop in Peter’s ears.

“I gotchu, kid,” Han said in a rasp. “I gotchu. We’re gonna get through it.”

Peter blinked once and finally unlocked the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t meant to witness this. He held out a wrist and fired a line.

It was weird.

It was just weird.

Something wasn’t right. And Peter couldn’t make his stomach not writhe about it.

Luke.

Han.

An offhand mention of like, characters. Character names. They were character names. Leia, Chewie.

Peter had heard of people who lived their lives honestly believing that they had been other people—fake people—in past lives, but like, damn man. Why would you put yourself in a position like that were you were moved to actual tears for some elaborate street-drama?

Maybe it had been a joke? That was the only thing he could think it could be. Maybe the universe had gazed upon his hubris at work and gone ‘ah yes, I know what this young man needs: emotional confusion at midnight on a Thursday. That’ll fix him.’

If that was the case, then yeah. Good job, universe. Good job, larpers. Y’all are equally sick.

But if not—and Peter no longer lived in a world where he could rule out any possibilities—then he had just witnessed—Dude, he’d just witnessed—

He couldn’t even think it. It was beyond him. It was so far beyond him that like he might have a real stroke taking the thought seriously.

There was only one person who could hold that kind of information unscathed.

Only one.

PP: Ned. I need you to listen to me and tell me I’m not crazy.

NL: no promises but go on

PP: I think? I just saw? Luke Skywalker? And Han Solo? In an alley behind Kitty’s?????

NL: fascinating

JS: Say more

PP: who let you in here?

JS: you?

PP: SECURITY

NL: Peter say more

PP: I can’t there’s a nerd in here and it’s vibrating at the wrong decibel. SECURITY???

MJ: yeah?

PP: I’m trying to have a breakdown. Can you remove Matchstick please?

MJ: what kind of breakdown

JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker

PP: Security has failed me. God?

NL: Peter can you name three things you can see.

PP: I am not manic. I am in touch with reality. I’m just having anxiety because I just fucking saw two people calling each other Luke and Han fighting behind Kitty’s. Like real fighting.

JS: nicknames?

PP: I—

PP: oh my god nicknames

PP: Johnny I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. never leave my side

JS: 😊

MJ: wow that’s cringe. Imagine naming yourself after SW characters

NL: does kitty do a cosplay night now????

PP: idk it was wild. People thought that ‘Han’ was trying to kidnap ‘Luke’ but when I got over there, Luke started flirting with me and then shit got real and they started arguing over like him hating his name and not wanting to do something and losing everything or some shit

NL: that’s a lot. I’m sure it was nothing, though, peter.

PP: yeah it was. My SS has been going nuts ever since I left. You think they bugged me?

JS: yes I will come search your body imminently

MJ: my job storm, back off

JS: after MJ has finished prelim checks, I will then search your body for you out of the kindness of my heart ❤

NL: that’s weird, the SS doesn’t usually freak out about cosplayers

PP: ikr?

NL: lol imagine if they were serious

MJ: don’t say that

JS: well now we have to lean in. thanks ned

JS: they were definitely real. God they were so real. You hear that Fate? You got us. They’re definitely real.

PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?

MJ: cue breakdown

NL: that would be so fucking funny. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo trying to save the world from the hellscape of nyc. The rats alone would thwart them.

PP: ned I’m freaking out

NL: oh you mean you’re actually freaking out?

PP: deeply

NL: oh shit sorry. I’ll be over, have you slept yet?

PP: NO

MJ: on it

JS: can I join?

NL: no johnny

MJ: no johnny

PP: 😭

JS: one day our love will build a bridge, peter. In the meantime I am stroking your ear comfortingly from midtown

Need and MJ’s weight pinning him to a mattress brought sleep but not necessarily comfort. They both thought that this was a sick joke someone had played on him that was now destroying his psyche. They thought that the couple pointing him back towards the cosplayers had been in on the joke.

Peter would have agreed with them if it wasn’t for the Spidey Sense. Everything else lined up perfectly.

Ned sighed in the morning and told Peter to go talk to Wade.

Wade’s hallucinations were, by far, more auditory than visual, but he stayed quiet while Peter talked his ear off over the phone in his locked office. He waited until Peter had run out of words to describe the feeling of impending doom and then huffed a bit of a laugh into the receiver.

“Them Star Wars people are unreal, Pete, you know this,” he said. “Look at Ned.”

Ned was perfect.

“Take off those rosy shades, hon. Now, look again.”

Ned had perhaps memorized the entire scripts of the first three movie and 90% of the spaceship names and the jedi lineages.

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

Peter didn’t want to.

“We all gotta do shit we don’t want do.”

Fine.

Ned’s goal in life was to go to his wedding in a stormtrooper suit.

“Keep going.”

Every Lego project they’d built together since 13 years-old had been a Star Wars-related one. When Ned had decided to move out of his parents’ place, he’d shed actual tears over MJ and Peter mutually suggesting that he sell some of his memorabilia.

“Will this delightful buffet before our very eyes, what is the likelihood of your two pals being drunk larpers in too deep to quit?” Wade asked.

73%.

“Uh-huh.”

“Thanks, Wade.”

“No problem. Although, now I gotta see this. You said they were behind Kitty’s? You think I can get a stormtrooper costume in 8 hours?”

“They’re not still gonna be there, Wade,” Peter huffed. “It’s 10 am.”

“You ain’t know that. What if Luke Skywalker’s a useless drunk, huh? You ever think of that?”

No.

“What’d he look like?”

Peter groaned.

“He looked like Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Blond hair, blue eyes—sort of like a chipmunk that forgot its stripes.”

“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”

Peter hung up to Wade’s cackle. He slouched low and tapped his pen against his desk. Then against his fingers.

He stared at the edge of his keyboard.

“What’s the weirdest thing you could imagine, Pete?” he asked himself.

PP: sam

SC: yeah?

PP: do you like star wars?

SC: nah

PP: you’re perfect

PP: do you believe in past lives?

SC: like spiritually or culturally? I know I was a cult-kid for a min there but before that we were Buddhists and like, past lives are part of the package

PP: that’s cool. What do you think of people being reborn as themselves again like, 500000000 years later? From a galaxy far far away?

SC: I don’t think about those people

PP: okay well, hypothetically. Let’s say that you were going to imagine someone who embodied that whole spirit. Who would it be?

SC: Buddha

PP: not buddha

SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?

PP: THOR. Thank you this has been helpful ily bye

Mr. Stark asked him over a cup of viciously black coffee why Peter was seeking out the demigod of his present nightmares.

That usually meant that he and Thor had disagreed on basic physics principles again. Peter took that also to mean that the demigod was still in the building. Possibly loose.

“He’s with Banner,” Mr. Stark said scathingly.

“Thanks, you’re amazing,” Peter said as he sailed out of the room.

Thor was sitting on Dr. Banner’s lab table, despite Dr. Banner telling him to get off no fewer than two times in the five minutes that Peter was in there, schmoozing and making pleasantries. He warmed Thor up to the home-run hit by asking him all about past lives and present lives and what the soul was on Asgard. Thor was only too happy to explain a load of nonsense that made Banner roll his eyes and poke at his muscles with a thermometer.

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Peter drawled in a very casual lean, “With the infinite galaxies and universes, etcetera, there could be one where Star Wars people exist. And so hypothetically, they could get reborn into a universe like ours.”

Thor blinked at him.

“You remember the laser swords?” Dr. Banner deadpanned.

Thor lit up.

“I suppose it’s possible,” he told Peter indulgently. “But if that was the case then it would be a long tragedy, no?”

…yes…

Say more, Thor-man.

“Well,” Thor said with a big, happy smile, “The series of events that unfolded in that story seemed to me to be one of triumph and tragedy. With one would come the other—that’s how these stories work, yes?”

…yes.

“So if Master Luke Skywalker and his companions arrived into our space here, then they must experience the same in order to be themselves,” Thor said, bobbing his head in pity. “Perhaps what would look like a new start for such people would result only in terror and disappointment until the same conclusion was reached.”

Peter felt his own grin twitch.

“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.

Both Thor and Banner looked at him quizzically at the same time.

“Peter?” Dr. Banner asked. “Is this coming from somewhere?”

Peter’s grin twitched so violently, it turned into a grimace that even superstrength would not let him maintain.

“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.

Wade was not happy to be met outside of Kitty’s in the middle of the day, especially because his stormtrooper outfit, in his words, ‘did no justice for the size of his balls.’

Peter was ignoring that. He dragged Thor past Wade’s righteous anger until he was standing on the place where the other two had stood the night before. Thor stood there gamely.

“There,” Peter said. “Any like, energy signatures?”

Thor glanced around and shrugged.

Wade scowled at him and hounded him off the spot so that he could stand there instead.

“I feel nothing,” he said, devoid of emotion.

“Same,” Thor said.

Damnit.

“Perhaps you are—”

The Spidey Sense smashed through all of Peter’s sense and screamed at him to get to the street.

Get to the street. Get to the street. Get to the—

There.

Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.

That was the guy from the day before. He was on the opposite sidewalk smashed in with the crowd, dragging a hand through his hair and laden with a backpack and two separate totes. He was wearing a strange set of clothes—a mash of casual and formal—and seemed to be in a hurry, the type of hurry that involved pushing past folks at a half-jog and not stopping at streetlights.

“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.

“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.

Thor made a sound of interest.

“I see him, too,” he said. “What incredible energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Wh—

Peter whirled on him.

“Don’t you fucking say that,” he warned. “I’m gonna go distract. You two, on my six.”

Peter broke four traffic laws on his way around the block. He swung himself around a corner and fucked up the collar on his labcoat and counted to four before stepping out right into ‘Luke’s path.

They collided. Luke stumbled back and dropped one of his totes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Peter blustered. “Are you okay?”

Luke swore and dropped down without answering, collecting the odd ends of metal that had clattered out from his bag and now rolled loose over the pavement. Peter stooped to join, gathering rings and pipes of all sorts of sizes in his hands. Oncoming folks gave them a wide berth.

It took a moment for Luke to realize what Peter was doing, but when he did, his shoulders went stiff as a board.

“DON’T TOUCH THOSE,” he snapped, just as Peter made to pick up a little plastic bag with a wad of tissue inside it.

Peter froze.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said.

This time, Luke finally met his eye.

“Oh, Jesus. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke blustered, “Thank you. I’ll—I’ve got them. Thank you, though. It’s okay.”

He took the metal out of Peter’s hands and stuffed them back into his bag. He snatched the plastic bag before Peter could touch it and put that on top.

“Excuse me,” he said as he stood. “Thanks again.”

And just like that, he hurried off past Peter down the pavement.

Peter watched him go.

“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.

“Negative,” Peter said, reaching into his sleeve and holding up the thin aluminum tube he’d hidden up there by the edge of his shirt-sleeve.

It was shiny and longer than he’d expect for any plumbing project. The inside appeared to be coated with some sort of heavy, non-reactive material, and half of the outside had grooved bands carved into it.

“Someone’s building something,” he said.

“Mid-century sink?” Wade asked, taking the tube.

“Nope,” Peter said.

NL: That is a lightsaber hilt

NL: where did you get that? It’s like mega accurate. Was it etsy?

PP: I stole it

NL: give it back

PP: I can’t I stole it from Luke Skywalker.

NL: Peter.

NL: we talked about this.

PP: He’s Luke Skywalker. I swear on the grave of my mother

MJ: this is a problem. This is now an intervention.

PP: I will prove it. If he’s Luke Skywalker, then he will do ANYTHING to get this thing back.

NL: and if not?

PP: then I will wait two days before politely tracking down his home address and then I will return it via wall crawling

JS: UM

JS: SORRY

JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?

PP: no

NL: no

MJ: no

JS: are

JS: are you sure??? Because there’s a guy in Reed’s lab right now talking to him and Sue, asking SUPER politely for access to—I shit you not—the crystals we picked up from that space trip the other day???

NL: …

PP: …

MJ: …

PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

MJ: fake

NL: no way

PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????

JS: I can’t

PP: nope you gotta

JS: I can’t I’m gonna cry I didn’t ask for this

MJ: out with it

NL: please say it’s obi-wan

JS: HHHHHHHHHHH

JS: nope

JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃

PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

PP: I told you motherfuckers

JS: right. So like. Awkward. But you uh, know that hilt thing you have?

PP: …is Obi-Wan Kenobi about to beat my ass, Johnny?

There was something about putting the hilt into the palm of someone more famous than Captain America that made Peter’s knees weak.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker had flirted with him the other night.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker didn’t recognize him as Spiderman.

Nothing helped, really, especially when those big topaz eyes lifted and Peter could see that their rims were red and raw.

“Thanks,” Luke Skywalker—the embodiment of hope itself—said in a soft, defeated rasp.

Every alarm in Peter’s head said to save him. Save him from what? How? Who knew.

Ned and MJ seemed to feel the same way, if the pressure on each of his arms was anything to go by.

“Well, that’s all cleared up, then. Thank you so much for your help; it is deeply appreciated,” a stupidly pleasant gentleman with a perfectly combed beard and lovingly coifed light hair said to the room at large.

Obi-Wan Kenobi—pardon, Ben Kennedi—was far more handsome than any movie could ever dream to make him. What they’d done to him in the 1970s, Peter saw now, was a fucking crime. He watched as this beautiful human being set a warm hand on Luke Skywalker’s—pardon, Luke Naberry’s—shoulder and used it to steer him towards the Baxter Building’s front entrance.

He watched as the two of them, like true Master and Padawan, stepped out onto the landing and opted for the stairs. For one fleeting, unbelievable second, Luke looked back over his shoulder at all of them before taking the next step after his Master.

He was right the other night.

He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.

“So that just happened,” Sue acknowledged for everyone after the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had faded off to nothing.

“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.

“This is single-handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ned said.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into our kitchen,” Reed told Sue like she hadn’t been there right next to him.

“The empire is trying to establish itself under our very feet,” Sue said back a little viciously.

“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.

Wait.

No, go back.

“For real?” Peter asked.

Sue and Reed looked back at the rest of them and then exchanged a look.

Peter was sad now. Depressed and laid out on his side staring back at Valeria’s huge eyes on the floor while Ned and MJ and Johnny asked Reed and Sue two hundred clarifying questions.

Peter didn’t need the specifics. He was thinking back on the conversation that he’d witnessed between Luke and Han Solo—Han Solo who was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and an accent straight out of New Jersey. Solo who had probably been charged with forcing Luke to face the facts in front of all of them because he was the one who Luke trusted most.

But it had shattered them—both of them.

The New Hope had given up everything. He was tired. His heart was torn. He was jaded just like Peter had been that same night. He’d been avoiding the tightrope that Peter had already started crossing, though, probably looking for every possible way to not have to set the first foot on that wobbly line.

He’d walked it before.

Valeria reached out with a chubby, round hand and touched the side of Peter’s face.

“Spiderman,” she said with terrifying understanding, “Someone needs help.”

He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.

“Baby Storm,” he whispered, “I think you’re right.”

MJ thought that Peter needed to leave things alone. She pointed out that he had plenty of problems without getting involved in universe-saving. She gestured to Johnny and volunteered him for the job.

Johnny refused on account of needing to be the prettiest blond in any room. He claimed that if he wasn’t, he had to fight for dominance.

Ned was on the other end of the spectrum. He had 43 reasons why Peter should get involved with things, and 40 of them ended up in the same place which was ‘it would be cool.’

One of Ned’s better reasons, however, involved pointing out that Peter had already stolen half of a lightsaber. He was good and involved now, whether he wanted to be or not. And that was enough for Peter to decide to go on a hunt to give a formal apology.

He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.

That didn’t work.

They tried Luke Naberry.

That didn’t work either.

They ended up going through every possible iteration of every Star Wars name they knew and then filtered out the people who’d been named by exuberant parents and then filtered out anyone who didn’t live in New York and they ended up with fat lot of still nothing.

It was like Luke Skywalker didn’t truly exist in this world.

Until MJ found his Instagram by typing in ‘guys who look weirdly like Luke Skywalker.’

She held the phone aloft in triumph and they all gathered round to gape in awe at her intelligence and research skills.

Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.

He had one selfie and this selfie was enough to have gotten him onto a BuzzFeed article. In it he was holding—you guessed it—coffee. Iced coffee. One in each hand.

He was shaking them, and one had been labeled with his name—hence the public connection made.

“Someone needs to tell him that coffee is not a food group,” Johnny observed.

“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

“Maybe this is his job,” he said.

There was a pause.

Some snooping revealed that Luke was an honest to god food website editor. He was a cameraman.

Repeat. Luke Skywalker, cameraman. He filmed all the food hosts for his company’s Youtube channel. He edited videos. He more or less blended into the background of everything, while having his finger prints on damn near everything.

This was a man after Peter’s own soul. They were kindred spirits in hidden identities, content creation, and suffering under a boulder of responsibility too great to cope with.

He had to find him now.

And after they had his Instagram it wasn’t too hard. He seemed to hang out in various parts of the Bronx and Peter just so happened to know some folks out that way.

Louis told Peter that he would never speak to him again if he found, befriended, and then didn’t share Luke Skywalker (the man, the real man, I’m not fucking with you, Louis). But he also recognized a place on Luke’s instagram that he seemed to be working his way through the menu of. He sent along an address and told Peter not to forget his promises.

Angel asked why he was looking for Johnny Storm in the Bronx.

Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.

He took a walk on Saturday morning. A long walk. A long train ride, then a walk, then a half hour of squinting, and then, lo and behold, he found a blond guy banging his head into the center of an out door metal table across from a woman with heavy braids trailing down the sides of her neck. She was much older than him and drummed white-painted fingernails across her cheek as she thought.

Peter hid and called Ned and MJ for an ID. He peeked the phone’s camera out enough for them to see the other two and then snatched it back.

Ned was about to flip a table.

“That’s clearly Ahsoka Tano,” he said. “She—the braids, dude. Dead give-away. And she put ribbons in them, like what even is discretion?”

Peter didn’t know that person. He continued not to know this person, even as Ned dragged him through a trainwreck of Star Wars lore.

“So she’s a friend,” he said.

“She’s like a jedi, but not like a jedi, she was a jedi, but then she said ‘fuck the order’ and—”

Great. Peter was approaching.

Ned held his face in his hands. MJ told Peter to report back on his findings. Peter ended the call and inched closer, weaving through the crowd and slipping into the coffee joint to see what nonsense they were selling.

It was nonsense with lots of syrup. He could never say no to syrup.

He watched the two outside while waiting for his order. Luke gesticulated to his friend and she spoke, giving reasonable gestures back. He stopped her and dug out his phone and that little plastic baggy full of fluffy material. He answered his phone. His friend took the little bag and held it up to the light.

She frowned at it.

Luke pushed away from the table and walked away to take his call. Peter’s order was called. He grabbed it and swerved out towards the patio.

“Hello,” he said at the edge of Luke and his friend’s table. “Is this seat taken?”

Luke’s friend stared at him.

“It is,” she said. “Move along, hon, you’re ten years too young.”

Wow.

“For your friend?” Peter tried. “Could I leave my number?”

He had this lady’s attention now. She was looking him up and down, appraising. Peter tried not to flex. He stayed cool. Matt-levels of cool. He smiled winningly.

“Alright, why not?” she said, digging through her bag for a receipt and a pen. Peter beamed as he leaned down to scrawl his number down on the back. He got halfway through before he heard a step stop nearby.

“Look alive, kid,” Luke’s friend said. “Hey, Luke, this guy was just—”

“You again?” Luke said.

Peter lifted his head and brows.

“Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize.”

There was a long silence.

Luke’s friend looked between them and then gave Luke a long, judgmental stare.

“You don’t have to,” Luke said. “Thanks, though. How did you find me here?”

Mmm. Beginner’s luck.

“Here,” Peter said, offering his number on the receipt. “If you ever need someone to talk to who gets it.”

Luke’s friend bit her lip and looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Peter ignored her for now.

“Thanks,” Luke said. “You don’t and you won’t. But you’re very pretty.”

Nice.

“You’d be surprised,” Peter told him. “Gimme a text. I’ll leave y’all alone now. Enjoy your coffee.”

He left. But not before hearing, “but that ass, Luke.”

Ned told him that there was no way that Luke was ever going to text him and he was disappointed in Peter’s hostage-taking skills.

But he was proved wrong two hours later and, for his crimes, had to admit Peter’s brilliance publicly.

LS: hi sorry. This is Luke. This morning when you stopped by our table, did you happen to see a little plastic bag on it?

Why yes. The one in Peter’s pocket right now? That bag?

PP: hi!! I did, actually. You guys aren’t very subtle 😏

LS: it’s not coke

PP: I’m not judging

LS: no, it’s not coke, I swear. It’s something INFINITELY more important. Did you happen to see if it had fallen on the ground?

PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it

PP: OH NO

PP: oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I took it with me when I accidentally took your friend’s pen.

LS: I

LS: what’s your name?

PP: Peter ❤

LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem

LS: I’m starting to think that you want something from me. And listen, you’re a handsome guy, but I’m not available and my type isn’t kleptomaniac. What do you want for it?

PP: well you got me

PP: to talk

LS: about what?

PP: mostly about why you look like you’re a wet phonebook in a bad gutter

LS: a phonebook???? What era are you even from????

PP: I could say the same to you, sir.

LS: I

LS: wh

LS: alright touche. The point is that I’m not going to talk to you. I just need that bag back. It’s a life and death situation.

PP: what are they? They aren’t coke crystals.

LS: how would you know?

PP: what are you, a cop?

LS: NO. This is going nowhere. What. Do. You. Want?

PP: To. Talk.

LS: I’m not going to talk to you.

PP: then why did you ask me to rescue you?

He held his breath.

LS: I didn’t

PP: you did

LS: I didn’t ask you for shit. This is it. What’s your last name.

PP: Man 😊

LS: Man what

PP: That’s my last name.

LS: Peter Man.

PP: oop, nope, sorry. That’s someone else.

LS: …so I’m calling the police, now. That’s what we’re saying?

PP: depends. Do you still need to be rescued?

Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.

LS: I never asked you to rescue me.

PP: You did. Think back.

LS: I didn’t

LS: I just made a joke to

LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK

Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.

PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤

LS: YOU’RE

PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤

LS: YOU

LS: you

PP: me

LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you

PP: yep 💋

LS: I don’t even know what to say

PP: it’s okay, you don’t have to say shit. The main thing I wanted you to know was that I hear you. And if you need it, I’ve got you.

LS: You’re literally trying to rescue me??

PP: it’s my job

LS: IT ISN’T. How have you never been arrested? how did you find me? Did you track my phone? Is it some kind of spider thing???

PP: yes

LS: I am legally obligated to kill you with the force now

PP: harder daddy

LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd

LS: oh my god Han is going to lose his gourd

LS: I’m sorry I just I can’t believe you of all people stole my damn hilt

PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers

LS: go die

LS: no I didn’t mean that sorry that’s a thing with me and my sister. I mean, okay. You got me. Hero of NYC.

Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.

PP: I’ll bring them back to you.

LS: Please do, Ben’s about to have a stroke.

PP: you mean obi-wan?

LS: he’s convinced his cat ate them. There’s a staring contest happening. No one has blinked in two minutes and I don’t want to be here for the internal investigation.

PP: where do you live?

Luke sent an address. Peter held his phone high and walked it into the living room where Ned was bitchily composing an Instagram post. He and MJ looked up at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter said. “Luke Skywalker and Co. live in a cemetery.”

It wasn’t a cemetery. It was a funeral home, but close enough.

Luke was waiting outside on the stoop in a cardigan about four sizes too big for him. It was there probably to protect him from the equally large ragdoll cat in his arms.

Peter smiled. Luke stared at him and then shook his head and went through the screen door. Ned gave Peter a biting look.

“Made friends, I see,” he said.

“We’re doin’ great,” Peter told him, hopping up the stairs. “Look at us, totally—”

“Insidious.”

Peter stopped and turned nervously to see through the screen door where Obi-Wan Kenobi had seized both of the cat’s cheeks. Luke continued to hold it with maximum doneness levels.

“Where have you been?” Obi-Wan asked the cat seriously.

“We have guests,” Luke said. “Take your beast.”

Obi-Wan snatched the cat out of Luke’s arms with contempt all over his face.

“You are a villain of the highest order,” he told it.

“Ben. Guests. Please evacuate. I am hosting negotiations,” Luke said.

“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”

“Ben.”

Peter was not going to laugh at Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was too surreal.

“Come in,” Luke said, returning to hold open the screen. “I hope you’re not allergic. There are two of them.”

T-two?

“The other one is Junior.”

Peter stepped over the threshold and found himself in a room that looked like a human birdhouse. It was full of surfaces that were almost completely empty, as though an enrichment object had once lived there but had been removed as punishment. Luke waved Ned and MJ in and accepted their apologies on Peter’s behalf.

Peter ignored them to lock eyes with a creature more stunning than any he had ever encountered. It sat on the kitchen counter by a single clear jar labelled ‘Not Spice.’ It blinked grumpy green eyes.

“Oh, it’s these people again?”

They all looked behind them to see Obi-Wan peering around a doorframe with the first cat draped over his shoulders.

“Kleptomaniac,” Luke said, pointing at Peter. Peter waved.

“Huh,” Obi-Wan said simply. “I will distract Ahsoka.”

He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.

“Let’s go talk in the back,” he said. “There are no bodies, I promise.”

The funeral home had a little deck and a yard small even for this far out in Queens. It was crammed full of plants that appeared to be in a competition to bloom. Luke invited them to sit and then left to make coffee.

Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.

He peeked over the side of the deck down where there was a large stone set in the center of the garden.

“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.

“Oh, how did you know?”

They all jumped.

Peter swore that Obi-Wan hadn’t opened that sliding door. How had—what—

Ned was at a loss for words in the face of one of his greatest heroes.

“I—uh. M-movie? I mean, sorry. It was in The Mandalorian, second season, with the—”

“Yet more television,” Obi-Wan said derisively.

They all stared.

“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.

“I thought you were bothering Ahsoka?” Luke asked, from inside. He squeezed past the man and his cat with three glass mugs in hand. He set them down on the little square table off to the side of the desk railing.

“I was, but then I got curious,” Obi-Wan said. “And I lost Junior.”

Luke stared at him.

“I’m going to lock you in the basement,” he said.

“Try, try, and try again,” Obi-Wan told him, petting his beloved cat’s head.

“Do you even know who Spiderman is, old man?”

“More television.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter had to keep a conscious watch on his jaw, lest it fall open in the face of the most handsome, clueless man on the planet. He watched as Obi-Wan, disgusted with all this ‘television’ nonsense skulked back off into the guts of the home. Luke shut the door behind him.

“So,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’re talking. Fork ‘em.”

Ah.

Fair was fair.

Peter produced the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over. There was a shout somewhere inside followed by someone going ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

“Ben keeps our home ghost free. He terrifies all the wannabee haunters,” Luke said simply. “Thank you for these. I imagine it’s somewhat of a shock to learn that it’s all real.”

It was, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing Peter had encountered by far.

“How long have you lived in New York?” he asked conversationally.

Luke gave him a weird brow.

He seemed smaller than before in that enormous cardigan. Certainly smaller than the movies made him seem. His face was a little thinner too, and his lips seemed to slope into an almost permanent pout.

“About twenty years,” he said. “We were born in California, but Anakin moved us here when we were eight.”

Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?

“’Luke, I am your father’—yeah, that guy,” Luke said with a scoff. “Except, you know, he ain’t dead. And he’s the only one who can make Ben remember that tea isn’t a meal, so we keep him around for that and to scream back at Leia.”

Peter was already completely lost to the dynamics of this household. It wasn’t like the books and movies—Ned’s twitching for his phone to take notes was proof enough of that.

“That’s awkward,” MJ said. “So did y’all do like, collective counselling for the past life shit?”

Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.

“It’s not past life shit if your damn name is the same,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

It sounded like it.

Imagine growing up with your apparently-Star War-obsessed father and uncle who’d built a home and a business (presumably) around that shit, only to find out later that they’d done it because it was literally their religion.

What a trip.

“When did you find out?” Peter asked gently.

“Oh, you know. Last week,” Luke said with a bitter grin. “Quit my fulltime job. Dumped my ex. Broke my lease and now here I am. Once again. Back at this place.”

“Do you want a hug?” Ned asked into the awkward silence.

“You’re very sweet,” Luke said. “If I touch another human, I will start crying and never stop.”

Yikes.

Barely holdin’ on by a thread there, buddy? How’s the hyperawareness going?

“Why does it matter, is my question. For you, I mean,” Luke said with a suspicious squint. “You fought a goblin guy, didn’t you? With a hover board?”

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.

Yeah, Peter sure had done that.

“And like, the bird dude? Didn’t you down a plane?”

Perhaps.

But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?

“These things are not equivalent,” Luke said flatly. “I joined a rebel alliance. There were loads of us.”

Mmm. Perhaps so.

“God, how old are you even? You look 22.”

Peter gawked.

“I’m 27,” he said.

Luke did a double-take.

“That’s a lie,” he accused. “Tell the truth or be compelled.”

“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.

Luke blinked at him. He pointed at the glass sliding door which revealed Obi-Wan holding Junior the cat above his head by the kitchen sink.

“The Force,” he said.

Ned’s face fell.

“Do we not have the Force, here?” he asked.

Luke flinched.

“Listen,” he said abruptly, “We’re workin’ on it. This isn’t our original galaxy. The rules are all different. The only one who’s managed to make even a spark happen is Obi-Wan so far, but as soon as we find Master Yoda, it’s over. We’ll already have won.”

“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.

Luke stammered and caught himself.

“We lost a lot of people,” he snapped. “It happens when you shift galaxies. Anyways, that’s what the stone is for.”

MJ glanced back at the stone and then leaned her forearms onto the small table.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You jedi folks all popped up over here by some cosmic accident. You don’t have the Force. Most of you don’t even remember who you are. You lost your most experienced Master, and you’re going to fight the Sith?”

Peter stirred his coffee nervously.

Luke’s eye twitched.

“We don’t need the others,” he said. “We only need the Force. To fight the Sith. Yes.”

MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.

“So you need the thing you for sure don’t have the most,” she said.

Luke opened his mouth, but not before the window by the door snapped open and Obi-Wan leaned out to say, “We always have the Force.”

Luke covered his face in despair.

“I was listening from the kitchen window,” Obi-Wan told him lovingly.

“GO FIND CODY ALREADY,” Luke roared at him.

“I did, he’s right here,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, stroking his angry cat.

“The other Cody.”

“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”

“Ben, so help me God—”

“Force.”

“SO HELP ME FORCE—”

Star Wars had really left out the part about Luke’s explosive temper. Peter winced, but Ned laughed and the sound seemed to have a calming effect on Jedi-on-Jedi crime about to take place in the kitchen. Obi-Wan appeared pleased with this development and emboldened. He wove past Luke out onto the desk and came over, cat and all, to point down to the seeing stone in the middle of the garden.

“Others who feel the Force’s energy will be drawn to it,” he told Ned fondly. “It’s how we got Luke back home.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “You called me.”

“And so others will also come,” Obi-Wan said with confidence. “The most important thing is that we believe in the Force. And from that, we will find guidance and power and—”

“He means Yoda,” Luke translated. “He’s been putting frogs on it as an offering, even though me, Ahsoka, and Anakin told him that this is a human’s world. A human’s world, Ben. Even if he did eat them, he’s not eating them raw.”

“Don’t be discouraged by Luke’s attitude, he is very stressed,” Obi-Wan told Ned and Ned only affectionately. “I told him not to be, you see there are four of us here already, and the Chosen One is among us.”

“Anakin told you to stop calling him that,” Luke moaned, massaging his temples.

“He was the first to be aware of our present situation,” Obi-Wan said.

“He took a hallucinogen and had a paranoid breakdown,” Luke pleaded. “Ben, please. Go inside. Think of your blood pressure.”

“Perhaps, but it was a useful breakdown, was it not?”

“I am so sorry for him, he’s getting senile,” Luke said to the rest of them.

“Your energy is different,” Obi-Wan informed Peter out of absolutely nowhere. “Are you also Force-sensitive? Were you drawn to the stone?”

Er.

No.

Sorry?

“He’s Spiderman,” Luke said, gesturing pointedly. “Remember Spiderman?”

Obi-Wan did not. Peter suspected, actually, that Obi-Wan still used phonebooks, if he used phones at all, that was.

Luke took a deep breath and let it out.

“Okay, let me just lay it out,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. You don’t have to get involved with this. We appreciate your help, but what would help us even more is if you stay out of it, alright?”

Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.

“Amazing. And don’t tell other people.”

Understood.

“Unless they’re Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan said. “In which case, ask them how they feel about rocks.”

Luke just stared at him coldly this time.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” he said dangerously.

“No, I used to be stressed,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you and Ani are doing that for me, so I have resolved to be a free spirit. Nice to meet all of you. Have more coffee. I don’t like this one; I will have it out of the house by sundown.”

He left, and possibly for good this time. No one knew what to say in his absence.

“So,” Peter tried, desperate for something to break up the tension. “You said a few days ago that you were looking for someone?”

Luke finally stopped making growling faces towards the sliding door. He lit up like a bulb.

“I am, actually,” he said.

Luke was looking for a very particular person named ‘Din.’ He described him as ‘six feet tall and covered in armor.’ He asked if they knew of such a person.

Peter had to shove a hand against his mouth in case he made an unwanted connection between this description and Obi-Wan behavior.

“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”

“My husband,” Luke said.

Ned choked.

Peter choked.

MJ tilted her head.

“You have a husband?” she asked. “I would have remembered a husband in that series.”

Luke leaned his chin on his palm and gazed sideways over the city. He seemed to sigh.

“I don’t know why he isn’t connected to me in the media created here,” he said. “It’s probably because he’s always been very shy.”

Oh, aw. Peter loved that. The contrast between them was heart-warming.

“We had a son together,” Luke said. “His child. He brought him to me. One of my students, at first.”

Hang on a minute here.

Peter exchanged a glance with Ned. Ned tried very hard to pick a way to approach this sensitively. He landed on asking, “What was his name again?”

“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”

Ned cringed.

“He was a Mandalorian,” Luke explained. “Very, very, very shy. Like, he would rather chew off his own leg than make small talk with a stranger. I think, before I knew all this, I was still subconsciously looking for him. All my exes are the same type.”

That—

Okay, so like.

Did these people own a TV?

“Do we look like we own a TV?” Luke deadpanned. “No. If Ben senses anything bigger than a datapad happening in this place, he’s driven to madness and breaks it.”

UH?

“He doesn’t actually break it,” Luke sighed. “He just finds a way to make it unusable—putting clothes on it, disconnecting the monitor, that kind of thing. He thinks they waste electricity.”

What a guy. Peter wanted to put him and May in a room and see what conspiracies they could spin together.

“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.

Ned cleared his throat.

“Do you have a, uh, datapad, then?” he asked.

“DIN. That’s DIN. He’s got his own show. Oh my god, that’s—stay right there. Don’t move.”

Bless this man. Peter wanted to hug him so bad. They’d lost him to the staircase leading up from the second floor to the attic. Peter wondered who he was showing the tablet to.

Maybe Obi-Wan?

“I told you this already,” a voice up there said.

“LOOK AT HIM.”

“You’re killin’ me, smalls. We had this exact conversation last week. Did you forget?”

“You knew where he was.”

“Alright, alright. Downward march.”

Anakin fucking Skywalker came down the stairs with a handful of Luke’s shirt in one hand and the tablet shoved under his other arm. He paused and frowned at the three of them in the kitchen frozen in shock, and then apparently decided that that didn’t matter. He carried on dragging Luke with him towards the kitchen counter. He dropped the tablet onto it and Peter realized that the lower half of his sleeve on that side was empty.

He watched as the guy let go of Luke and chased the not-angry cat off the counter, cursing.

“Alright, this?” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Is the link I put here.” He rapped the same finger on what Peter now saw was a whiteboard covered in rows upon rows of symbols that he’d never seen before.

“Din here? Din here. You see?” Vader told Luke with untold patience.

“I can’t read that,” Luke moaned. “You lied to me.”

“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”

“You’re a liar and a cad. Do it in Basic.”

“This is Basic.”

Oh, dear. All that fanfic about Luke meeting Darth Vader and having a breakdown was looking real embarrassed now, wasn’t it?

“If it’s Basic, why can’t I read it?” Luke demanded.

“Because, like I told you last night, the night before, and the night before that,” Vader said painstakingly, “It doesn’t all come back at once. It’s going to take time.”

“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.

Vader leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes. Luke didn’t look even remotely like his kid, even with him looking all pre-quels-like now.

“We talked about this, too, remember?” Vader asked.

Obviously not. Luke was distressed. He had eyes only for the tablet now.

“No, of course not, silly me,” Vader said. “Why are humans here?”

“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.

“Thank you, that was not my question.”

“What was your question?”

“Why are non-order humans here?”

“I told you, Ahsoka went—”

“Son, I will kill you if you continue to act like Obi-Wan,” Vader said without missing a beat.

“You can try,” Luke said offhandedly. “But only one of us has two handed grip.”

There was a long stare.

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Vader told him. “Why do we have living guests?”

He gestured back to Peter, Ned, and MJ like they were flies on a set of blinds.

“Oh, because that’s Spiderman and he stole your kyber crystals,” Luke said.

Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.

Vader blinked once.

“This may as well happen,” he decided somehow placidly. “I’m going back upstairs. Where did your grand-master go?”

“Into the mist,” Luke said. “Can you feel Din?”

“Negative, ghostrider.”

“When the Force chooses you first out of favoritism, can you feel for Din?”

“Ah yes, can I feel for your Force-repellant life partner with all of the Force energy that I do not have? Yes, I sure can.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”

UM?

This felt a little hostile for Peter’s tastes. Not that it wasn’t earned. Clearly it was earned. It was just horrifying.

“Guests, you are dismissed,” Vader said in their direction. “Unless you’re drawn to the rock outside, in which case, you may stay. Otherwise, do not darken this doorstep again, or else we will leave you with the other dead in the morgue.”

“Thanks for bringing the crystals,” Luke said from behind him. “And for talking. I do feel better, actually.”

They left the funeral home. Obi-Wan was outside by the mailbox as though waiting for them. Peter wasn’t sure he had any emotional energy left to approach him with.

“Thank you for speaking to Luke,” he said as the three of them attempted to pass unnoticed. “It’s good for him to talk to others his own age.”

Uh-huh. Good night, sir?

“Good night, Peter, Ned, and Michelle.”

They hadn’t given their names.

They definitely hadn’t given their names.

Ned wasn’t sleeping for two years. He made this clear with a lot of clapping gestures and then rolled around on the floor, talking about all kinds of shit that Peter couldn’t decipher. MJ watched him and flicked her eyes up to Peter with concern on her forehead.

“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.

Correct.

“They’re barely their own characters.”

Correct.

“What now?”

Peter wasn’t sure. The best he could think of was to just keep an eye on the situation. Maybe check in every couple of weeks?

“If you say so,” MJ said. “I think you made Ned’s life, by the way. Good job.”

Peter tried checking in every two weeks. It started because he happened to hear of a tunnel collapsing in Queens nearby the funeral home. He texted Luke to ask if he needed a save and all he got back was a ‘well, not anymore.’

After that, Peter kept a close eye on happenstances occurring around the city. There were more than he bargained for. And when he glanced at Luke’s Instagram after the first week after the tunnel collapse, he noted that two of the nails on the hand Luke held his coffee to the camera with had gone completely black.

That was worrying.

Peter was used to be the danger-prone asshole in his friendgroup. He did not like this role-reversal. MJ asked him sarcastically what the problem was.

He texted Luke again.

PP: how many nails do you have left bro?

LS: we put a hole in one to release the pressure

PP: that don’t sound great bro.

LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news

PP: oh?

LS: the most predictable thing ever has happened. The Vader has regained force power

PP: that’s worrying

LS: ? why?

PP: won’t he go dark?

LS: ah, no. He fucked up and raised me and Leia with Ben this time after our mom died. He had his chance to go dark and traded it for 8 consecutive hours of sleep instead.

PP: I truly don’t know what to say

LS: It’s fine we did 12 years of family therapy after the accident so we are no longer on the DSS watchlist

PP: I know less what to say

LS: he won’t find din :/

PP: is that your priority right now?

LS: aren’t you supposed to be spiderman or something? Don’t you have chaotic things to say?

PP: you know normally I do, this is literally out of character for me. but I think you also might be absorbing my chaos.

LS: that’s fair. I have that effect on people. Hey, is your buddy Ned available to chat? He knows more than I can remember about my old life. Can I borrow him?

That sounded like a horrendous decision.

PP: yeah let me get you his number.

LS: thanksssss

Ned reported a few days later that his services were needed at the funeral home. He was leaving them all now to befriend Luke Skywalker as was his true destiny.

He came back a few hours later and reported that his services had been helpful and he was pleased to say that Darth Vader was now the official herder of ‘wans’ in the house. This included all Obi-Wans and padawans.

He seemed to be the only guy there who could like, retain information given to him for some reason. He accepted this as his lot in life and went around repeating the same things to the others ad nauseum until they finally stuck for them.

Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.

Ned didn’t think so. He thought the guy was pretty chill about it and had probably been doing it for a while now. He did it more for Ahsoka Tano and Luke than he did for Obi-Wan. Although that was probably because Obi-Wan appeared to be on a hunt that made all non-relevant information given to him slip off his back like water.

Another two weeks. Another text.

PP: hey luke, I saw you drowning on the news. You okay?

LS: GOD my ex-workplace keeps calling welfare checks on our house. We’ve had more cops here then flies these last few days.

PP: ex-workplace is one way to refer to your old job. Sounds like they cared about you. What did you do?

LS: preschool teacher.

Peter was going to lose his shit right here on this bed.

PP: was that your calling?

LS: that was Luke Naberry’s calling. Luke Skywalker’s calling is to make the lightsaber go vrrrrrrm

PP: you honestly terrify me

LS: thanks han says the same thing. OH. HE FOUND CHEWIE.

PP: no shit??

LS: yeah I told Ned, not you. But yeah. He found him lugging boxes for a bodega. And now they both work at the same bodega. Which like, objectively, is a bad thing because Han was a UN translator.

PP: I’m

PP: sorry

PP: what?

LS: I know he was all respectable and shit. It was awful. I can look at him again without feeling like I’ve failed in every part of my life.

PP: dare I ask what your sister does?

LS: lawyer

PP: not senator?

LS: we’re not old enough to be senators.

PP: every moment becomes more concerning than the next. You fascinate me. This is why they put you in like, all the films.

LS: because I’m sexy yeah

PP: that too

LS: not to you. I’m off-limits bub. I’m married.

PP: how’s that going for you?

LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PP: I see. So no Din yet?

LS: I will find him if it kills me

PP: that’s so romantic. Hey you should watch that series. They gave him a little green yoda in it. Really cute.

LS: that’s my son you piece of shit

There was no winning here.

MJ asked him a few weeks later if he was still keeping up with the Jedi drama since the whole city had recently decided that Peter was a snack.

Obviously he hadn’t.

She told him not to worry, Ned had. She told him to talk to Ned, so he went and talked to Ned with a heatpad in one hand and a coldpack in the other.

Ned patted at him sympathetically and informed him that Luke had reunited with the Force. It was going poorly for him, mostly because the Force wasn’t used to people being in touch with it in these parts of the universe. It kept telling each of the jedi that there was a disturbance and then luring them to each other to fight to the death.

Luke described it as the Force-equivalent of an auto-immune disease.

They’d taken to gathering in the living room of the funeral home to meditate in a circle, as though to calm the Force’s anxiety while scenting each other for protection.

It had a 40% success rate. Everyone was sleeping in locked rooms for the time being, just in case someone got compelled to do something rash.

Peter asked Ned if he’d finally lost his crown as King Chaos of NYC.

Ned patted him on the knee more firmly than before and said that he could regain his crown by introducing a calming element into the jedi household.

Peter had his pride to defend, so he asked what that element ought to be.

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, the leader of all Mandalorians, was bound to have a name that looked nothing like the one they had for him. Luke nearly exploded when Peter approached him to asked him (and his taped fingers) more about who Din Djarin was outside the name.

They proceeded with caution, however. So far, Peter and Ned had discovered only dissonance between Luke’s account of his life partner (his ‘heart, stars, sun, and sand’) and the guy on the screen for the tv show. That was to be expected, given that they had met Luke now and learned of his somewhat explosive personality.

But even still, Luke’s description of Din Djarin as ‘kind, compassionate, tender, shy, emotionally stable, dependable, sweet, caring, and hunky’ seemed slightly biased.

Peter just wanted to know how tall this guy was. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Blood type. That kind of shit.

Luke said that Din had brown hair, brown eyes, Type Who Knows What blood, and was about six feet tall. He had no idea how much he weighed. He’d never had need for that information. He knew that Din was human, which was probably helpful in a galaxy far, far away. He knew that he spoke Mando’a as his first language, then Basic, then a whopping fifteen others. And he knew that Din was probably looking after their son.

Vader asked Peter over a mug of coffee (also labeled in the funeral home’s cabinet as ‘not spice.’) if Spidersenses could overcome a dearth of information. It took Peter a few moments to realize that he was sympathizing with him.

“You’re not going to find Din,” Vader told Luke. “You need to look for the kid. You’ll find the kid first, you always have.”

Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.

Peter decided that he didn’t want to get in between that burgeoning battle. He told Luke to text him if he remembered anything else.

Wade was pissed that Peter had been meeting and ‘cavorting’ with Luke Skywalker without him. He claimed ownership of the Din Djarin mystery in order to cram himself into Luke’s good graces. But quickly, he ran into the same stumbling blocks as Peter.

Din Djarin was six feet tall with brown eyes and brown hair.

That was what they currently had to go on.

Wade would have torn out his hair if he had any, but he stopped himself and accepted the challenge. Peter watched over his shoulder as he chicken-pecked his way into a list of social security numbers held by the NYC State ID issuing department and started methodically filtering names that did not sound like ‘Din.’

He started broad with all ‘D’s and then narrowed it down further and further and further until he was left with a shitload of Daniels.

He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.

Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.

It helped. Wade started filtering by height, then by eye color. Then by hair, and only ended up with several hundred people.

He vibrated again, but this time, Peter couldn’t help him.

He sighed. Wade said that there had to be a better way to do this. He got up.

Wade made about four thousand missing posters with the name Din Djarin on them which he recruited the whole team to plaster up around NYC. This was not a request.

Miles asked him why they were doing this for a tv character and had to be let in on the gig.

He lost his shit.

Louis tried to retain his shit.

Angel still didn’t know how the whole jedi thing worked.

Dave hummed and haw’ed and took his time in calling bullshit. Wade asked him to look deep into his eyes and ask if he was entertaining bullshit that fine evening.

Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.

There was no way that shit was supposed to work. There was just no way. A) because Wade had the worst ideas of all mankind and B) because Peter had the worst luck of all mankind. So the two of them together should have destroyed all the prospects of success for that job.

But instead, while they were hatching a new plot involving setting up a sham sociological study for people who responded to Star Wars names, Wade’s phone went off.

He grabbed it and opened the message and lo and behold right there was a note that read,

“I hope you are not a reporting body because this is going to sound certifiably insane, but I think I might be the guy you’re looking for?”

Wade screamed.

Peter scolded him not to get too excited too soon. They had to see the man first.

Wade texted furiously, asking for a picture and got a message back that said, “please do not dox me.”

They got no answer until Wade promised not to dox the guy.

And then they got an image of a man with brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin. His face was remarkably square. The picture wasn’t just him, though, he had in his arms a little boy with a head covered in tight ringlets. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black and he was maybe two years old.

The caption said, “apologies, my son needed to be in the picture.”

Wade cooed and entered Dad Mode to ask how old the baby was and what he liked to do and Peter lost the fathers to that small talk for a while before Wade oh-so-casually asked, “So you feel like you’re from outer space?”

“It sounds strange,” the guy on the other said wrote back, “But I do. Like every day I wake up and look in the mirror and something is wrong. I feel like I’m always forgetting something when I leave the house. I watched the tv show of the guy who’s name was on your fliers and the kid in it reminds me so much of my son. It’s eerie. They make the same sounds. He made the same sounds before we even watched that show.”

Wade whistled.

“I think this is him, Pete,” he said. “He called Baby Yoda a ‘kid’ not a yoda.”

Peter stared. He hadn’t even caught that. That was smart as hell.

“So what now?” he asked.

Wade sniffed.

“Get Skywalker to send you a selfie,” he said.

PP: Luke are you pretty right now?

LS: My face is intact

PP: take a selfie and send it to me

LS: cannot do that. Face is intact is a baseline situation. Let me find an old one. Oh, they all have my ex in them. This is awkward.

PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.

LS: no I have to be cute or I’ll perish hold on

PP: are you sure you’re not Johnny Storm?

LS: yes, he’s got loads of muscles. Sent.

Selfie acquired.

Luke looked very smiley in it. His eyes were blown out from the lighting, but it showed his sloping smile and his low, back-set dimples. Peter sent it to Wade. Wade sent it to his new friend.

They waited.

They waited five minutes.

Then ten.

Then half an hour.

Then nearly two.

And finally, Wade’s phone rang. He picked it up and set it on speaker so that Peter could hear.

“Hello?” Wade said.

There was a long pause.

“Where did you get that picture?” a low, almost smoky voice demanded on the other side.

“A friend,” Wade said sleazily. “You know him? He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?”

It took the dude on the other side of the line worryingly long to respond.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

Wade brought his head down in interest.

“What’re you willing do to?” he asked.

They waited. Peter didn’t know what was taking this guy so long to—

“Anything.”

Ah.

Okay. That.

That sounded about right.

Wade cackled.

“You know his name?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

“What’s his name then, pal?” Wade asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Peter clutched the back of the couch. Wade was grinning so hard, Peter could see it through his mask.

“You want him, you need to show me that you know who he is,” Wade said. “I ain’t got ‘im here, but I know where he is. Come on, big boy. Who is he?”

Peter could hear the man take in a deep, shaky breath.

“His name is Luke,” Din fucking Djarin, the Mandalorian himself, said.

Din fucking Djarin’s name at the moment was Danny Jabaran. He stood six feet tall with a medium build and that baby of his in his arms.

He was not afraid of Wade.

He was not afraid of Peter.

The suits didn’t scare him; this man was a space warrior. The leader of the space warriors. Peter was humbled to stand in his presence, old jeans and tattoos and all.

“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.

“Deadpool,” Wade said, offering a hand. “And this is?”

“Grogu,” Djarin said.

Baby Yoda lifted his big liquid eyes up to Wade and blinked twice. Then he wriggled around and hid in Djarin’s neck. Djarin put a hand on his back and didn’t drop eye contact.

“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.

Ned screamed. Michelle screamed. Peter reminded them that he had neighbors and invited Mr. Mand’alor to sit on the couch for a bit while he called Luke.

Michelle claimed the spot next to Djarin and asked Baby Yoda Grogu for his little hand. He studied her and hid again, making a prolonged sound of distress that Djarin cut off by saying, “Hey. Manners.”

This somehow made baby Grogu turn back to Michelle to stare at her offered hand.

He took it. She shook with him and then took hers away.

Grogu perked up and reached for it again.

“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.

Djarin looked right at him.

“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.

Ned blinked back tears.

“You’re so cool,” he creaked.

Djarin frowned.

“You...are too?” he tried.

Ned wept into a fist.

Peter left them to call Luke in his bedroom. Luke picked up on the third ring with the start of an ingrained greeting that sounded a whole lot like a customer service recording. He caught himself, though.

“I have someone I’d like you to talk to,” Peter said. “I think you might want to sit down.”

Luke’s unusual quiet on the other side made Peter grin.

“Are you sitting?” he asked.

“I’m sitting.”

“Alright, one moment,” Peter said, walking out into the living room. Djarin had edged far, far away from Ned, as far as he possibly could without being rude. He looked up when Peter came over and sat down on the arm next to him.

“Say hi,” Peter said.

Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Peter waited. Djarin lifted his head over to see the phone’s screen.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Din?”

The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.

Djarin had gone completely still.

“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

“Shit,” Djarin said, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “Goddamnit. Jesus.”

“DIN.”

“Dank Fucking Farrik.”

“Oh my god.”

Baby Grogu’s face snapped toward the phone with huge eyes. He grabbed at Djarin’s collar, then his jaw and started bouncing a little in his arms.

“Bu?” he asked.

Djarin couldn’t make himself move.

“Grogu?” Luke asked. “Hey, baby, is that you, bubba?”

Grogu grabbed Djarin’s face urgently, so that he couldn’t hide his raw eyes anymore.

He pointed at the phone.

“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.

“MMMMM. Gib.”

“Ah. That’s not ours. We don’t grab. We ask,” Djarin reminded as Grogu pleaded for the phone. Peter snickered and gave it to him. He just held it, staring.

“Do you wanna see him?” Peter asked. “Luke, can we maybe video chat?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke said. “Hold on. Oh god, my face. Uh, hey Din are you still near-sighted, hon?”

Djarin huffed a laugh that turned into a whole-body tremor.

“I got contacts,” he said a little hysterically.

“You got WHAT?” Luke yipped, “Okay, no. No, I gotta. Be still, this heart. Okay let me just take off the butterflies. On moment, Grogu, Daddy’s just gotta dunk his face in the damn sink.”

MJ bounced her eyebrows at Peter as he gently took the phone back from Grogu and tapped on the camera. He offered it back the kid and received a deep gaze of wonder in return. Djarin turned the screen right-side up in his hands.

Luke finally turned his camera on and revealed himself to be very swollen in the jaw with damp hair and a cut very close to the rim of his left eye.

Grogu screeched.

Luke laughed.

“Look at you,” he said, “I’m gonna cry. Oh my god. Where’re your ears, pal?”

Grogu analyzed this reaction for 2 full seconds and then shoved the camera right into his dad’s forehead. Djarin took it from him and liberated himself so that he could see Luke who was clutching at his face, absolutely already sobbing, bless him.

He looked up to see Grogu and instead got Djarin and finally just broke right in half.

Peter swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. His eyes were starting to warm a little.

Djarin found a watery smile in himself.

“I know you’re not cryin’ because of me,” he said gently.

“Where’s your helmet?” Luke sobbed, wiping viciously at his eyes. “People are watching, you harlot.”

“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Luke.”

“This is all my fault. I should’ve—I should’ve—”

“Luke,” Djarin said again, full of warmth, “You died for us.”

Luke shook harder than ever.

“There is no greater sacrifice a warrior can make,” Djarin told him. “I was honored for you to have made it for me and our son. This has always been the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.

“I missed you,” Djarin said. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“I was a preschool teacher in the Bronx, man, I dunno what happened,” Luke said tipping his face up to force the tears back in.

“In the Bronx? Where?”

“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”

Djarin started shaking with laugher.

“I work off Laconia and Mace,” he said.

“You what?”

“We’ve been blocks apart this whole time.”

Awwwwww.

“I’m going to stab myself,” Luke moaned. “I’m going to stab myself in the arm. I was right there and I sold out for my part-time gig barely weeks ago. Oh my god. I’m going to—move, old man, I’m suffering—Wait. Din, did you find your parents?”

Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

Look at all these people hugging each other.

Look at them crying all over. There was a baby in there, wailing because he was so happy to be back in the arms of his other dad.

Aww. AWWWW. Peter was getting emotional again, he was going to see himself out.

“Wait. Peter.”

He looked up to find Luke holding a hand to him.

“Thank you,” he said. “You really are a superhero, you know that?”

Yeah.

Sometimes, he did.

The city had plenty of problems as it was, yeah, more now with a bunch of jedi running around, linking up with each other and spreading memory like mushroom spores. But it didn’t feel that much different.

What it felt like now was Ned showing Grogu how to hold his hand at the seeing stone in the funeral home’s back yard to make the Force happen while Obi-Wan reported cheerfully that the cat perched on it was still not levitating.

It also felt like watching Luke freak out over text to Ned and Michelle about his ex losing their mind at him dumping them after two years to marry this random mechanic within a week of getting together.

Peter got to see this from new angles, too, one of which was the bottom of the funeral home’s attic stairs, which Anakin Skywalker liked to sit on while his grandkids—both Grogu and Han Solo and Leia Organa (pardon, Leia Naberry)’s son—came over to show him things that he was very well aware of. These were stolen from him by Auntie Ahsoka and her friends who Ned knew and Peter did not.

And there was something warming about how even these folks—people from a galaxy far, far away, occasionally needed a Spiderman.

#spiderman #starwars #dinluke #inimitable verse #ficlet #this is the niche of the niche but I know like 5 of you read both my mando and spiderman fics #so this is for you doll #and also the fact that I have a fucking PROBLEM

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superfreakerz · 3 years ago

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TDDUP 32

“Til Death Do Us Part”

Rated M for smut and heavy themes.

Reincarnation/Immortal AU

Summary: There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, but it’s best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

Chapter 32

The New Semester

Lucy frowned as she got ready for the new semester. The rest of winter break went by in the blink of an eye. She had partied at Fairy Tail during New Years and even called her father to catch up and wish him a happy new year. Every day during the break was spent with Natsu and their friends, which made the new term that much harder.

Last quarter, she had every class with at least someone from their group. Now, she has absolutely none. Disappointed was an understatement when she received her schedule. She was devastated. She hated the thought of not seeing her friends in class, and she hated the thought of starting over even more.

"C'mon, Luce. Cheer up. It's not the end of the world if we don't have classes together," Natsu's voice rang out. He spent nearly every night at her apartment, it was rare when he was at his own place.

"Easy for you to say!" she shot back. "You at least have a friend in every class!"

"Friend? I only have Gray in all my classes. That's not a blessing, that's a curse! That's worse than immortality!"

Lucy only rolled her eyes. "Oh, whatever. Point is, I'm going to be all alone! I'll have to make new friends! And in case you don't remember, I suck at that!"

"What do you mean? You made friends with all of us!"

"That's only because Levy introduced us. And she was the one to come up to me when we first met. I can't make friends on my own! And let's not forget that our first meeting went horribly!"

Natsu smoothed a hand over the back of her head. "Quit worrying so much. You'll be fine, I promise. And even if you don't make friends, I already told you that I'll pick you up from class everyday so we can go to Fairy Tail together and meet up with the rest of the gang. It's not like we're going to stop being friends just because we're in different classes. You're stuck with us now that you know our secret."

Lucy laughed. "Oh, I don't need you to pick me up today. I'm going to meet with Aquarius after my classes. But I guess you're right."

"I always am! Now hurry up and finish getting ready."

Wanting to look nice on her first day of class, Lucy threw on a pair of light jeans and a white sweater. It was still winter, so she couldn't show off her body just yet.

"Alright, I'm heading out now!" she called out.

Natsu gave her a quick kiss, sending her off with a grin. "Have fun!"

Lucy was surprised she was relatively early to her first class, taking a seat in the back. This quarter, all three of her classes were squeezed into the same days, but luckily she only had classes Tuesday and Thursday. That left her with the rest of the week to do whatever she wanted. Her first class was English with a professor named Virgo. According to Makarov, she was also a reincarnation. Lucy hoped she would be able to talk to her about it.

Suddenly, the seat next to her was pulled out. Lucy turned to find a boy with dirty blonde hair sitting next to her, flashing her a dazzling smile. His eyes were dark, his lashes long. If Lucy were single, she was sure she would be swooning over the pretty boy.

"Nice to meet you," the boy said, taking her hand in his. "I'm Hibiki. What might your name be, beautiful?"

Lucy was taken aback by his brazenness, reminded of her first boyfriend. "I'm Lucy."

"Lucy. What a pretty name!"

"Uhh, thanks."

"So, Lucy, what year are you?"

"I'm a freshman."

Hibiki gasped. "Me too! It must be fate that we met today!"

Lucy nearly rolled her eyes. "Fate? This is English 101, everyone here is a freshman."

Before Hibiki could reply, someone cleared their throat at the front of the room, grabbing her attention. It was a woman, relatively short with a pink pixie cut. Her eyes were a jaded blue.

"I'm Virgo, your professor for this quarter."

Lucy leaned forward in her seat, eager to learn more about the fellow reincarnation.

Once class ended, Lucy quickly packed her things before heading to her next class. She wished she could have talked to Virgo about reincarnation, but there were too many people around, not to mention she had limited time to make it to her next class. Not that there was a need to rush. She had all quarter to talk to the fellow reincarnation.

During her walk across campus, Lucy was surprised to find that Hibiki was walking along with her.

"Umm, is there a reason you're going this way?" she asked, starting to get weirded out by the boy.

He arched his brow. "My class is this way."

"Oh, okay."

When Lucy made it to her next class, she stopped outside the door to glare at Hibiki, who had followed her all the way there.

"Okay, you're stalking me," she said, crossing her arms.

Hibiki laughed awkwardly. "I'm not, I swear! I have this class!"

"There's no way we're in the same class! Show me your schedule!" The boy handed her his schedule, which she glossed over quickly. "Wait, we share every class together! How the hell did that happen?"

"I told you it was fate!" Hibiki exclaimed, grabbing Lucy's hand. He went to place a kiss over it, but she snatched it away.

"I can't believe how similar you are to an old friend of mine," she said, rolling her eyes.

"This friend of yours must have been charming!"

She laughed, and in a voice laced with sarcasm she replied, "Big time. Well, if we're going to be in all the same classes together, we might as well be friends. But no funny business, alright? I have a boyfriend."

Hibiki held his chest in mock pain. "I should have known a girl as beautiful as yourself was taken."

The two walked to the back of the classroom, taking their seats.

"So, what are you majoring in?" Lucy asked. She wasn't used to making friends on her own, but with Hibiki's laidback and all too familiar personality, she found it easy to slide into a conversation.

"Computer science. What about you?"

"Creative writing."

Lucy was about to ask the boy where he was from when their professor stepped into the room. He was a tall and lanky man with black hair. Unlike Virgo, he was a bit older, a couple of wrinkles adorning his face around his mouth. He wore a dark green turtleneck and black slacks that accentuated his slender legs.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Sagittarius. I will be your World History professor. I assume everyone came prepared with their textbooks."

Lucy sweat dropped. It was only the first day of the quarter, she didn't have her textbook yet. As if sensing her dilemma, she felt Hibiki nudge her elbow that was resting on the desk before he slid his textbook between the two of them to share. She shot him a quick grin.

"Thanks," she whispered.

He returned the smile. "Don't mention it."

Class seemed to drag on forever, Sagittarius' emotionless voice doing nothing to help as he discussed the contents of the first chapter. While Lucy may not have been an immortal who lived through most of the world's events, she had still been around long enough to have been through a good chunk of them. That, along with taking the same classes every lifetime, made learning relatively easy.

Once class ended, Lucy and Hibiki walked to a small coffee shop that was on campus. They had thirty minutes before their next class, and considering it was the first day, they didn't have too much homework to do yet. Instead, they decided to chat over a cup of coffee, which Lucy insisted on paying for since Hibiki was nice enough to share his textbook and send pictures of the portions she would need for homework later.

Lucy found it strange just how similar Hibiki was to her first boyfriend. She figured that was why it was easy to open up to him. Already familiar with flirty playboys, his personality didn't scare her away. Instead, it made things easier.

"I guess making friends isn't so hard."

The two talked about everything, ranging from where they grew up to what they wanted to do after college. Lucy had to admit, it was fun making new friends.

When they headed to their last class for the day, they took seats in the back yet again. It didn't take long for their professor to stumble in the room. Lucy's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets seeing how absolutely ripped the man was. It looked like his white button-up shirt was going to pop any second with how large his muscles were.

"Yo! I'm Taurus!" the man exclaimed. His eyes filtered around the room, hearts practically shining in them whenever they glazed over a girl. Lucy wondered how he was able to teach given his pervy attitude.

Yet, when he started to go over the math topics they were going to learn over the quarter, all playfulness disappeared from his voice, replaced with seriousness. Unlike with Sagittarius, Taurus was surprisingly good at keeping the class engaged, and despite how hard to believe it was, he managed to make math seem somewhat interesting. Time practically flew by. To make matters even better, Taurus dismissed them without assigning any homework.

Heading out of the classroom, Hibiki invited Lucy to hang out.

"Thanks, but I have an old professor I want to catch up with," Lucy said with a smile. She was proud of herself for having made a friend already, one that even wanted to hang out with her after school.

Hibiki's eyes widened. "Oh, is it your boyfriend? Are you dating your old professor?"

"What? No! My boyfriend goes to this school too, but he's not a professor. Just a student."

"Oh. I'd love to meet the man that stole your heart! He must be quite the specimen!"

Lucy laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure you'll meet him someday considering he plans on picking me up from school everyday. Anyways, I have to go. I'll see you Thursday!"

Waving a quick goodbye to her new friend, Lucy headed towards Aquarius' office. It was clear that Aquarius knew about her reincarnation, so why didn't she ever say anything instead of giving cryptic clues? And how did she even know about it in the first place? Had she slipped up in any way? If that was the case, she needed to know to make sure not to repeat the mistake in the future.

Reaching the cranky professor's office, Lucy peered inside to find the woman glaring at her computer screen. She wasn't surprised that there weren't any students utilizing Aquarius' office hours. After all, she was terrifying.

Feeling irked that Aquarius had kept things hidden from her, Lucy strode inside the office without bothering to knock and planted her hands on her hips with a glare. The older woman glanced up at her, a scowl immediately gracing her face.

"What do you want, brat? I thought I was finally free of you," she remarked.

Lucy closed the door behind her, locking it. "How did you know about me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. Makarov already told me about you, along with the others. Why didn't you tell me?"

Aquarius sighed, the scowl on her face finally relenting. When she looked back up at Lucy, her features were softer, a rare expression on the woman's face.

"We wanted you to find out on your own," she finally answered. "I assume Makarov told you about Acnologia and the other immortals?"

Lucy nodded. "Yeah. He told me about how we're all being hunted by some psychopath."

"And how did you take it?"

"...Not well, I guess."

"That's why I decided it was best not to tell you."

"But why?" Lucy asked. "Obviously I would have liked to know that there are others like me! What does Acnologia have to do with anything!?"

Because I didn't want you to be paranoid," Aquarius answered. "Do you know how many reincarnations live in fear for the rest of their lives, over and over again all because they found out about Acnologia? We already have enough to worry about, it's better not to have the knowledge of yet another threat to us. Besides, I was also doing it for you and Pinkie."

"You mean Natsu? What does he have to do with it?"

"Well you're dating, aren't you? I didn't want you to get scared of him since he's an immortal and all."

Lucy choked on her saliva. "W-What? How did you know about that?"

Aquarius sighed, tired of having to explain things. "I know about all of the immortals enrolled at this school, even the ones that are in Fairy Tail's basement. Considering the past between reincarnations and immortals, we are given information about each immortal so that we can choose if we want to work here or not."

"So you really knew this whole time? How did you know about me?"

"I actually met you in your first life."

Lucy felt the wind getting knocked out of her with that revelation. Feeling dizzy, she took a seat across from Aquarius, resting her head in her hands.

"I don't remember you," she finally said, meeting the older woman's gaze.

"That's because you were just a baby at the time," Aquarius replied.

"How did you know about me then? You couldn't have possibly recognized me when I was just a baby."

"I was friends with your mom. You're strangely enough the spitting image of her- though you lack all of her grace. When I first saw you, I thought that you were her and that she was a reincarnation as well. Until I found out your name, then I remembered that she named her daughter Lucy. It wasn't too hard to put the pieces together after that, though I did do a bit of research on you as well just to be sure."

Lucy gave a sad smile remembering her first mother. "I can't believe you knew her."

"It was a shock to me too when I first saw you," Aquarius replied, her own lips tugging upwards into a smile. "She was a fine woman, which is why it's so surprising you turned out like that. It must be the fault of the rest of your parents." Lucy shot her a glare before Aquarius continued, "Anyways, it was my idea to keep you from the truth, so don't even think about getting mad at Scorpio and the others."

"Don't worry, I'm not mad anymore. Just a little surprised is all. I still can't believe there are so many others like me, and that there are so many near me too."

"Who are your teachers this quarter?"

"Virgo, Sagittarius, and Taurus."

"Ah. Did you know they're all reincarnations too?"

Lucy grinned cheek to cheek. "Wow! I heard Virgo was, but I didn't know Sagittarius and Taurus were too!"

Aquarius nodded. "If you want, you would probably be allowed to teach here if you wanted. All you have to do is turn in an application to Makarov. You'd be allowed to come here every lifetime if you choose to do so."

Lucy considered the option. Truthfully, she had no idea what the future had in store for her. Still, it was nice to have another option available to her. Especially since this one allowed her to stay near Natsu and the others.

After chatting with Aquarius for another hour, Lucy finally decided to head over to Fairy Tail where her friends were waiting for her. Sure enough, when she strode inside the pub, she found Levy and Natsu hunched over, dejected from the conversation that was taking place around them.

"Why do you two look so upset?" Lucy asked once she approached them.

The two lit up like Christmas trees at the sight of her.

"Finally!" Natsu exclaimed, grabbing her wrist and gesturing for her to sit down. "We've been waiting forever! It sucks not having classes together!"

"Weren't you the one telling me it wasn't a big deal?"

"Well I changed my mind! It sucks!"

Levy nodded with the boy. "I agree! I've been wanting to talk to you all day about your story! I finally finished it!"

"Already!?"

"Yeah! We've gotta talk about it!"

"Shouldn't you guys give her room to breathe?" Gray asked with a chuckle. Natsu and Levy were practically leeching onto the poor blonde. "Anyways, how was talking to Aquarius?"

Lucy smiled. "It was nice. She explained how she knew me and why she didn't tell me about it in the first place. Oh, she also told me that if I wanted to, I could probably teach at the university after graduation."

"Are you going to?" Erza asked.

"I don't know yet. There's a lot to think about. But since I'm still a freshman, I have plenty of time to mull it over."

Natsu stared at the blonde beside him. In truth, her teaching at the university sounded like a dream come true considering it meant she would stay in Magnolia. Then they could stay together forever, even in her next lives. Not wanting to come off too strong or pressure her in any way, the boy decided to keep his thoughts to himself for now.

He didn't know what the future entailed for the two of them. He knew that he wanted to be with Lucy for the rest of his infinite life, but that was a lot to ask of someone. He knew firsthand how long life could be, he didn't know if Lucy would feel tied down. After all, she lived in different countries, had different families, her life was forever changing while his stayed the same. Not to mention most of the time he was kept in the basement. What if she wanted to go on a date? What if she got tired of hanging out in his room? There was nothing he could do about it, and he wasn't sure the girl would want to put up with it. After all, who would?

Swallowing thickly, Natsu pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. It was like Lucy said, they had plenty of time to figure it out. But no matter how many times he repeated that thought in his head, the worries he had were only swept under a thin veil that threatened to fly away with the slightest gust of wind. And he was sure they were going to come back sooner or later.

#fairy tail #nalu #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #tddup #til death do us part #super writes #nalu fanfiction

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bold-writing · 3 years ago

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The One With Whiskey Eyes || 18 || My Peace, Like Shattered Glass

Words: 3200+

Warnings: Trauma, Acts of Violence

Previous || Next

~18~

“Ow!”

“That’s why I wear gloves,” Iris teased gently as she smoothed a Band-Aid over the badly stinging cut that Jessica had obtained when trying to rip open a box—it was basically a papercut, but when it was caused by cardboard, the pain was considerably more; as was the amount of blood that had welled up to the surface of the cut.

“I thought that was to hide the mark,” Jessica admitted quietly, her low voice deliberately making sure that their coworkers didn’t hear what she said. “You’re always wearing them.”

“This is the fourth time you’ve cut yourself this week,” Iris pointed out in counterattack, causing the younger woman to flush in embarrassment before she simply shrugged her shoulders. There was no defense against that. Iris shook her head with a gentle smile, collecting the garbage from disinfecting and covering the cut, tossing them into the nearby trashcan of the office. “You should get a pair, you know. Boxes and books don’t just cause papercuts, but they dehydrate your hands as well. Wearing a pair of these will stop that.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Jessica grumbled half-heartedly. Iris just gave that same smile as she stood up.

“I know it’s a bit earlier than usual, but why not take your break now?” Iris asked instead, briefly checking the time on the bottom of the office computer’s screen. Jessica agreed easily, happy to get off shift and eat something. The two women went their separate ways once they left the office, Iris making her way back into the store as she smiled to her coworkers and reclaimed her place behind the register.

She knew they were whispering about her, confused by why she was constantly smiling and always seemed to be happy. Not that she’d been doom and gloom before, but they couldn’t remember a time when she had smiled and showed her happiness so openly and constantly. Jessica was still the only one to know about her marks—or at least the fact that there is more than one—but they had all been able to notice the change in their manager in the past few weeks. She’d gotten worse, to the point that she had been forced to take time off, before she miraculously got better.

There were still days when they could tell she hadn’t slept well, for whatever reason, but they were few and far between.

Iris wasn’t able to see her soulmates every day, try as either of them might, but they spoke constantly. She would wake up to emails from whoever was in the light that day, but she would usually write to all of them every morning—she hated feeling like any of her soulmates were being neglected. Continuing to do this as more and more of them are met, she isn’t sure, but she knows that she will go out of her way to make sure they are all…loved. Welcomed and acknowledged for their individuality.

It was surprisingly difficult to focus on her work—she had never had anything in her life to distract her before. Even fear of her parents had bled away after a time, but her soulmates were ever present on her mind.

Absentmindedly, Iris stroked a fingertip over the mark on the back of her palm.

They were all so different, it made her wonder who else was in the body of Kevin Crumb. When would she meet Hedwig, the supposed child? Or Jade, a younger female than Patricia?

“Looks like the cold-front has arrived,” Sarah called from the front window, a box perched on her hip as she glanced back toward Iris. The young woman’s eyes turned to the window, blinking in shock at the white-out of flurries that had overtaken the view outside the storefront.

Her face pinched slightly uncomfortably, knowing that her walk home was going to be horrendous. “That’s gunna be so cold,” she mumbled to herself, but it was loud enough for Sarah to hear. It had been chilly enough on the walk in to work, heading home through the snow was going to be so much worse. Sarah gave her a pitying look before she turned to get back to work.

Instead of letting herself become distracted by thoughts of walking home, Iris collected one of the boxes that needed to be scanned through and took it to the main counter. Sarah continued to clean and organize the front displays—it was a quiet day and there was very little to do for the group without more customers coming in.

Iris herself had been there since five o’clock that morning, completing some of the reports that needed to be sent to the owners by the end of that week. Not wanting to wait and rush through it, she decided to come in a few hours before her usual time and get in a bit of silent work. She was feeling more exhausted as the day drew on, but at least her sleep the night before had been a fitful one until her alarm had gone off.

Of course, her day did not get any better when she got a call from David, who sounded like death, saying that he had tried but he wouldn’t be able to come in to work. As an old habit, she didn’t want to bother anyone else and just decided that she would stay for the full shift and close the store down as well. Jessica and Sarah both shooed her to the back for a long break, however, and made sure she ate the soup she had brought and even made her a tea with the kettle they had in the break room.

It made Iris wonder if they had gotten a lecture about how she was always doing things for them. Her boss definitely had not liked how she was always working, taking the weekend and evening shifts or filling in for the others when they did not or could not come in. It wouldn’t have surprised her if her employees had gotten a lecture during her forced days off.

“Do you want me to get you a tea? Or a coffee? How about-”

“Jessica,” Iris interrupted, her voice carrying an amused tone as she shook her head at the younger woman. “Calm down! I’m fine, I promise. There’s only a few more hours before close and the snow kept it quiet today. I promise I’ll head straight home and eat.”

“Remember, I’m opening the store tomorrow so I better not find you here early,” Jessica forewarned, pointing a threatening finger at the frail woman. “I swear, I’ll make you sleep in the break room.”

Shaking her head at Jess’s antics, Iris motioned toward the door. “Go home, Jess. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

She was given one more warning look before her new friend and old coworker disappeared out the door into the white flurries that had dominated the window most of the day. Supressing a yawn, Iris sat herself down at the main cash with some of the paperwork from the back office—she still had work that she needed to get done, even if she had to stay and help Sarah until closing.

The odd person or two would wander in throughout the day, making small or simple purchases that Iris handled easily and with little thought. Sarah kept up with cleaning and stocking to busy herself, giving Iris several assurances that she would take care of the aisles and to not worry. By the time the final hour rolled around, and it had been at least forty-five minutes since the last customer, Iris was tempted to send Sarah home early.

The shelves were spotless and there were no other boxes that needed to be put out, so there was nothing else for the young woman to do. Iris had even spent a good thirty minutes explaining to her how to run the computer programs that she used to manage all of the store’s books. Sarah just sat with a bewildered look on her face and they both decided that management was not something that she was interested in learning.

“It’s deserted today,” Iris finally declared, leaning against the counter as Sarah wandered by with a dusting rag. “You head on home, okay? I’ll stay and finish my paperwork and if someone does come by I can handle it.”

Sarah blinked at her owlishly. “Are you sure? I don’t mind staying!”

“There’s no point in both of us being bored out of our minds. Head on home, I’ll be fine.”

And then there was one.

Iris fought another yawn as she glanced at the computer screen. Just one more hour. Sitting back in her chair to rub at her tired eyes, the dark haired woman could feel them sting slightly with the effort she had been putting in to keep her eyes open.

She used to have no problem staying up for ungodly hours, but she’d been adjusting to a new way of living lately and now it seems going back to how things were would be impossible.

Sitting forward with a silent sigh, she tried to focus on the paperwork in front of her. Only a minute had gone by before her concentration was shattered, similar to the store window that exploded in a shower of glass as something was sent flying through it.

A shriek of surprise tore from her lips as Iris ducked behind the desk, too far for the object to reach but fear drawing the defensive reaction to the forefront. Her heart had rocketed into a galloping pace in her chest, hands shaking in fright against the edge of the counter. The roar of wind and the tinkling of glass hitting the once clean floors filled the silence of the store.

The rush of cold against her covered arms and bare neck made her shiver, skin already beginning to feel feverish from the sudden rush of adrenaline that flooded her system. Shivering and panting, Iris remained crouched and hidden as she waited and listened for any sign that the person who had broken the window might come inside.

However, even as time passed and nothing happened, she couldn’t bring herself to move. Trembling in fear and shivering from the cold, her hands gripped the desk above her head until her knuckles were white beneath her gloves. Eventually the distant sound of police sirens broke the silence, bringing her mind back to the present. She’d forgotten about the security system—if one of the doors were opened while the code was inputted, the police were alerted, but if a window was broken at any time the police were called immediately.

Trying to force her hands to relax on the edge of the desk, the sirens grew louder until the police cars came to a screeching halt outside of the store.

Taking in deep breaths of the cold air, Iris exhaled through trembling lips as she finally detached her hands from the desk. Shuffling out from her hiding place, she used the desk to support herself as she finally stood up and surveyed the damage. The front was a mess now, a combination of glass and snow covering the floor and surrounding displays.

The first thing that came to her mind was how the books were going to be ruined if they got snowed on.

“Police, don’t move!”

Iris jumped and choked back a gasp, hands shooting up as one of the officers stopped outside of the broken window. She was the only person visible in the store, so she could understand being suspicious.

“I’m the manager!” she shouted, her voice shaking. “My name is Iris Mayfair, my employers are Melissa and Gerald McIntosh. They would have been contacted as soon as the alarm was set off.”

“Please step out where I can see you, ma’am. Do you have ID on you?”

Walking around the desk on shaky legs, her hands still raised, Iris nodded. “My employee card; it’s with the keys around my wrist.” She shook her arm to demonstrate, causing the keys to jingle soundly and flash the little badge attached to it that had a barcode scanner for her to access the computers upon opening. Jess had one as well, for when she opened the store.

“Are you hurt?” the man asked as he stepped forward, some of the other officers entering behind him as they surveyed the damage and entered the store, checking through the aisles.

“No, I was behind the desk-”

“You have glass in your hair,” the officer interrupted gently once he had checked the ID on her wrist, comparing the information she had given to him with the name and photo on the card. Naturally, her hand lifted to her head to feel for the sharp projectiles. Thankfully, the officers caught her arm gently to stop her before she cut her hand. “No, don’t worry. It’s only a few pieces. Shake your head and they should fall right off.”

Iris did as instructed, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. She could feel when the fragments fell out, tapping down past her shoulders before they hit the already messy floor.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” the officers asked again—a glance at his shirt revealed his name was Montez—and Iris nodded her head dazedly. “Were you the only one working?”

Iris stood in the storefront with the officer as she answered his questions, giving him the time to write them down between answers. As the wind and snow continued to blow into the store, Iris steadily started to shiver more heavily. The adrenaline was bleeding from her system, causing her vision to blur in and out. Montez must have seen her sway on her feet because he abruptly stopped talking and reached out to claim her arm.

“Woah, let’s go sit you down. Is there a back office in this place? Somewhere warm?”

“Yes, just back down that aisle. There’s a door that leads to the stock-room at the end.”

The place was crawling with police by now, and one of them informed her and Montez that the owners were on their way down. There was a camera out front that might have caught the person who threw what turned out to be an old pipe through the window, but Iris didn’t have authorization to scroll back into the recorded footage so she was no help to them.

As they entered the back office to finish giving her statement, Iris found herself wishing that her soulmates were with her. Glancing at the nearest clock, she realized that they would be home by now and waiting for her to let them know that she was home safe.

Her shift had ended twenty minutes ago.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” Montez asked from across from her, worry clearly evident on his face as she trembled and stared blankly at the clock. “Is there someone you’d like me to call for you?”

Small and pale, Iris look like a terrified, small animal. The chair she was in made her appear that much smaller; her feet didn’t touch the floor and her boney frame was enveloped in the black leather of the chair-back. Montez felt like he was interviewing a terrified child. If she got any paler in her face, he’d be calling in the paramedics to check on her again. She looked on the verge of passing out.

The liquid gold of her eyes watered further as she gave a stuttered nod.

“Kevin Crumb,” she answered meekly. “His number is in my cellphone,” she answered, motioning to where she had left the phone on the office desk. She preferred not to have her cellphone with her when she was working, so she usually left it in the back office.

She was probably never going to do that again, not after what she had just experienced.

Montez nodded calmly, picking up the small phone and having her input the password before he stepped away. One of the other officers, a woman named Sinclair, came into the office briefly to inform Iris that her employers were here and she could leave once her statement was complete, they would help the police with anything else needed.

Iris just gave a short nod as she stared at the floor, yet to regain any colouring in her face.

Sinclair gave Montez a sympathetic look as she left, understanding that speaking to someone who was in shock could be a trying endeavor.

The ringing in his ear cut off, drawing his attention back to Iris’s phone. “Hey, Iris, you get home okay?” The casual question, filled with true concern, almost caused the officer to wince. He hated when he had to tell the unsuspecting spouse or loved one that something had happened. At least Iris appeared unhurt and he could offer that assurance.

“This is Officer Liam Montez; is this Kevin Crumb?”

There was a pause on the other end, silence filling the line for a long beat. “Where’s Iris?” the male voice demanded, upping in pitch as fear sharpened his words.

“Miss. Mayfair is fine; someone threw an item through the window of her store but she is safe and unharmed. It would be best if someone was with her right now, she’s in a bit of shock and will able to leave as soon as we finish getting her statement. She asked me to call you—are you able to come down to Pages of the World right now?”

“Yes, yea, I’m on my way. She’s alright? You said she wasn’t hurt?”

“She was far enough away that she only got a bit of glass in her hair, but no, she wasn’t hurt. I might recommend bringing her something warm, preferably tea or something that doesn’t have caffeine in it.”

“Can I talk to her, please? Just for a second?” the plea in the man’s words were impossible to ignore—Montez was certain, as he turned to hand the phone to Iris, that this was a soulmate he was dealing with.

Iris could barely hold onto the phone as she leaned her head heavily against the cellphone, into the pressure of Montez’s continued grip on the device. He was sure that she would have dropped it if he hadn’t helped hold it up. “Hello?” He couldn’t hear the man’s words, but Iris’s bow-tight body finally relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice.

Definitely soulmates.

“Hey, Sweetheart, it’s Barry. You okay? I’m on my way right now.”

“I don’t feel good,” Iris answered weakly, as though she was ashamed of her body’s reaction.

“That’s just the shock, Sweetheart. I’ll be there in ten, okay? Just try and take some deep breaths. Are you sitting down?”

“Mhm.” The conversation barely lasted a few seconds more before Iris suddenly dropped her hand, letting Montez pull the phone away. Glancing at the screen told him that the man had already ended the call, so he simply placed her phone on the desk as he reclaimed the other chair.

“Are you alright to continue?”

Swallowing thickly, Iris gave a tired nod as she met his eyes again.

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#The One With Whiskey Eyes #Split #Split 2016 #James McAvoy #Dennis #Patricia #Soulmate AU #Soulmate #Split Fanfiction

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