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ashwhowrites · 2 years ago

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Heyy can you plss do an eddie fic with prompt #38 where after reader has a baby eddie becomes more and more distant like no alone time nothing but reader wants it to work out but he isn’t putting in the effort. Maybe it can be because he found someone else or he just isn’t attracted to her anymore or can be because of the band.

- the original request glitched and posted when I didn't write anything for it yet, so I hope whoever requested this finds it!

⚠️this is going to hurt...maybe a lot (as in I totally cried writing this and that hasn't ever happened) I saw an angst prompt and pulled this out of my ass in a day and I love it

Eddie's backstory is all made up

Talks of abuse

To have and to lose

“The worst part was that I saw it coming, I knew you’d hurt me, hurt us, but I still kept you around.”

At the age of 13

Y/N watched her parents fall out of love. She saw the two most important people in her life slowly drift away from each other.

At first her parents were so in love, like the princess and prince in fairy tales. They were always a happy family. Sitting at the kitchen table every night and talking about their day. She watched her parents kiss good morning and goodnight. She saw a relationship in her parents that she dreamed of having. She wanted to fall in love just like that.

But suddenly, their late night kitchen talks turned into screaming and smashing plates. Pillow talk turned into discussing which days they got to see their daughter. The hands they used to hold each other with are caught red handed in adultery.

Y/N watched her parents go from being in love to strangers. She watched it all fall apart.

At the age of 14

her dad moved on, moving in with a new family. Her mom turned to alcohol for comfort, leaving Y/N to learn what it's like to be forgotten at such a young age.

She didn't want a relationship like that ever. She wanted to fall in love and stay in love.

At the age of 10

Eddie watched as his dad beat his mom for the first time. He screamed his lungs out, asking him to stop. He can hear his mom's cries get quieter as she was closer to passing out. Eddie felt like his screams were underwater, how could no one hear him?

He watched the blood pour out of her nose. Hearing the front door slam as his dad ran out.

Eddie prayed that night and every night that his dad would stop coming home, but he always came back.

At the age of 12

Eddie got his first black eye. His dad punched him right across the face for not answering him fast enough. That was the first time his dad laid a hand on him, and it wasn't his last.

At the age of 13

Eddie cried as his mom walked out the front door. Bags packed and no intention on bringing him with. He screamed for her, begging for her to take him with. Save him too, but she didn't. She left him. She left her son with a monster.

At the age of 16

They met each other.

Eddie ran straight into her when he was running to class, muttering under his breath about being late on his first day.

Y/N was smacked to the floor by a heavy body colliding with hers. Hearing the guy talk under his breath.

Eddie was quick to apologize, saying sorry over and over as he helped the girl up. Once she stood tall again with a small smile, his heart did a spin. She was beautiful.

Y/N told him it was okay, accidents happen. When she fully took him in she felt speechless. His wild hair and caring eyes. He was tall, lean, and skinny. But he looked so inviting. He looked as if he would be soft to the touch.

Eddie spent that whole day thinking about her.

Y/N spent that whole day thinking about him.

She almost felt like her eyes moved on their own. Her body knew when his presence was around before she even saw him. She could be miles away in her head, but the second he walked in her eyes would snap to him. She was captivated by him and she had no idea who he was.

"Eddie Munson, late again I see. Take a seat."

She watched as his wild hair passed through the doorway, breathing heavy as he panted over. He nodded to the teacher and eyes scanned for an open seat.

Y/N smiled to herself when she felt the open space next to her, with a small smile she nodded her head.

Eddie's eyes caught hers, not by accident. He was dying to find out if he had a class with her. Trying to find her in the halls just to see if she'd walk into the door he planned to enter.

He smiled gratefully as he sat next to her. Hand sticking out, "the name is Eddie Munson."

And that's when their love story began.

Slowly blossoming throughout the year of highschool.

Eddie never realized he could love the first day of school.

Their crushes grew on each other fast and hard. She was smitten by the boy who had an artistic talent in drawing and music. She was captivated by everything he said because he talked so passionately and his eyes told every detail in a story she needed to know. She admired how creative he was and demanded he taught her more about hellfire.

For once Y/N felt like she made a true friend.

Eddie wasn't used to someone wanting to be around him. Especially a girl, and a girl who was way out of his league. Her hair was always shiny and silky. He could imagine running his fingers through it all day long. She was intelligent, always knew the answer to every question. Definitely sneaking over a few answers to him during a test. She was a great listener. He could tell she was really listening to him, her eyes told him everything he needed to know. He felt butterflies flying around when she smiled or laughed at something he said.

For once Eddie felt like he made a true friend.

At the age of 17

Y/N felt like she might be falling for him. She thought of him every single day and every moment. Photos of them framed on her walls. Countless sketches Eddie left in her room. A year of friendship and she never felt alone anymore.

She learned Eddie came from a broken home and had many wounds that still bled.

Eddie learned she was the same. A bit broken with pieces he may never find to put back together.

But either way, they healed each other even if they didn't know it

Eddie remembers the day he was a goner for her.

Jason was shoving him against the lockers, hand to his throat and knee in his gut.

Eddie loved to seem tough, but inside he was still the little boy his father used to beat until he was bruised. Eddie hated that no matter where he went in life a version of his dad found him.

Eddie remembered feeling his body hit the floor and a huge blow came from his right side, it took Eddie back to when he got his first black eye.

Tears escaped as he tried to hide his face in his hair. Even at 17 he couldn't fight back.

Then she showed up, and she put up a hell of a fight.

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!" he remembers seeing her little legs run towards him, shoving Jason aside with as much strength as she could.

The look in her eyes was so soft and gentle. For once Eddie felt like he was safe, cowardly moving himself closer in her arms. She quickly wrapped herself around him, shoving his face in her chest. Allowing him a place to cry silently where no one could see. A hand in his hair.

"do you know who that is? That's the freak Y/N, you don't want to get messed up with that."

"Fuck off. If Eddie is a freak, then freaks are my favorite kind of people." She spat.

Jason rolled his eyes and walked away.

"Eddie baby. Are you okay?"

Yeah Eddie was definitely in love.

Y/N knew she was in love with Eddie when he asked her to the snowball.

She sat at lunch with hellfire, staring at the posters that covered the cafeteria.

"SNOWBALL DANCE FRIDAY NIGHT!"

Y/N wouldn't change her friendship with Eddie for anything, but being friends with him meant no one was interested in her. Not that she cared, she had her eyes set on him and she knew they'd never wander off.

She remembers her face blushing as she shoved herself further down her seat as all the boys talked about how stupid the dance was.

Jeff complaining about the need to wear a tux just to stand in the gym. The amount of money spent on one night.

Gareth talking about how it was stupid girls actually wanted to go to that stuff. Waste their time to get pretty and go nowhere but the school.

But Eddie never said a word.

She tried to give him a glance but his expression didn't read much. He almost looked like he wasn't listening at all, and maybe he wasn't.

She was proved wrong.

Two nights before the dance she was reading a book in her bedroom, a lamp rested on her bedside otherwise the room was dark.

She heard knocking at her door and quickly looked out her window. She saw his van before him. She raced down the stairs.

He stood there in a black beanie, red and black flannel covering his arms and black jeans.

"Eddie Munson how many times do I need to tell you to wear a real winter jacket."

He rolled his eyes with a smile. Already expecting that.

He grabbed her hand and dragged her further out on the porch.

"I'm not romantic in any type of way and this was the lamest thing I could come up with, so let's act like it's the best thing I've ever done." He said.

She looked at him confused. She watched as he grabbed snow and began to roll it into a ball in the palm of his hand.

Once he was satisfied with the shape he set it near her foot. Running to his car for a poster sign.

He walked back up to her and grabbed the snow.

"Will you go to ___ with me?"

He held the snow proudly in front of the blank spot on the poster board.

His smile slowly fell as she stared at him, mouth covered by her hands

"do you get it? It's like a snow ball, like the dance?"

She nodded, trying to compose herself to speak.

"Yes Eddie I would love to go to the dance with you. And this is a very Eddie Munson fashion proposal." She laughed.

Looking into his eyes that night as he screamed about how cold the damn snow was in his hand, she knew she loved him.

After the dance, they finally became official. Both nervous and talking at the same time.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

Together they found a safe place to let their guards down. Each healing each other's wounds with soft touches and meaningful kisses.

At the age of 18

They were still going strong.

More in love than ever. They celebrated their one year at their new favorite spot in the woods.

Wayne loved Y/N as his own. Tearful eyes watching them as they got lost in each other.

Wayne always worried about Eddie. He knew his heart was too gentle for some people. But he could see that Y/N cared for Eddie deeply. In the way she smiled at him. The way she'd smack him for smoking. When she'd force him to eat dinner and not just snacks.

Wayne finally felt like he didn't have to worry about Eddie anymore.

Eddie found a safe place to call home.

At the age of 19

The couple graduated, now thrown into life with no idea what's next.

Eddie was ready to tour the world.

Y/N's mother died from alcohol poisoning and she hasn't seen her dad since he left. Eddie was all she had so she followed him straight into the spotlight.

Wherever Eddie was going to go, she was following behind.

Eddie's band slowly made their way up the charts. Getting popular and noticed. He felt like all of his suffering led him to this.

Singing every night with the guys he called brothers.

Running off stage to kiss the girl of his dreams.

Eddie deserved this.

They deserved this.

Y/N doesn't remember what state they were in, lost in the days spent on the road. But she remembered the way she felt.

She was laying in Eddie's arms as they stared at the stars. In a random parking lot in the middle of nowhere. A blanket from the tour bus underneath them.

"hey baby." She whispered as she looked up at him.

His dark eyes looked down at her, she smiled at the love and softness that was held in there.

"yes gorgeous?" He asked

"Do you think we'll always be in love?" It was a loaded question, one that they both couldn't give a sure answer too. But without a second of hesitation he said-

"Without a doubt in my mind. I'm going to love you forever, I promise."

At the age of 22

They settled down. Giving up tour life for a small break.

They got a small apartment in California, wanting Eddie to be where the stars are.

They filled the walls with pictures of them. A map that was marked by every city Eddie performed in. A cabinet filled with Wayne's old mugs for when he wanted to visit, or the days Eddie missed him a bit more.

A bulldog that they barely had any idea to take care of but Y/N refused to leave the store without him.

On Christmas Eve, Eddie decorated the living room with fake snow. Their dog, Ozzy, was dressed in a Santa hat. The Christmas tree lit up and the crappy ornaments they made together decorated all around.

"Eddie what is with all the snow?" She giggled

"It's California, I had to do my best so shush." He said.

He always had a thing for leaving her confused. She watched him silently as he got down on a knee.

Her eyes growing, he wasn't, was he?

Eddie grabbed what looked like a snow ball.

He grabbed it in his hands, holding the fake snow softly.

"When I met you, I didn't think I deserved to be here. I grew up with barely a family, just Wayne. But I felt like a burden to Wayne. Like he was forced to take me in. Making his life harder and stressful. I barely knew if he ever loved me, which I do know now that he does. My point is, I didn't know I could even be loved by anyone until I met you. Until I literally whisked you off of your feet. You have made me want to live every single day of my life. I've got to love you as a friend. Then as a boyfriend. And now I want to love you as a future husband. Will you marry me?"

He smashed the fake snow, dusting off the particles and there laid a ring.

She was already crying from his words but she cried harder seeing the pure love in his eyes. His own watering slightly.

She couldn't speak so she nodded and threw her body into his. Knocking him straight to the floor.

Laughing as they tumbled, Ozzy ran to their rescue.

"Take that as a big yes?" Eddie laughed.

"So fucking big yes." She kissed his lips.

Ready to spend the rest of her life with the man of her dreams.

At the age of 25

She gave birth to their daughter, Alexis.

Eddie dreamed of being a father and he vowed to not fuck this up.

Eddie sang his two girls to sleep every night. A smile on his face as he watched his wife and daughter fall asleep with the same look on their face.

Alexis looked just like her in so many ways but had Eddie's hair of curls.

Wayne adored her more than anything. Easily becoming the best grandpa in the world.

Eddie and Y/N spent all their time making the most memories they could with Alexis.

Who knew two teenagers could make it so far?

At the age of 30

It all came down.

Y/N was slowly watching Eddie turn into someone who wasn't her husband anymore.

Once Alexis was old enough, Eddie went back on tour.

It was hard at first for them to all get used to.

Y/N had to go to bed alone and prepare her 5 year old for school.

Eddie had to get used to talking to his family through a phone.

Alexis was a daddy's girl and she took it hard when he was gone. Crying every night asking where he was.

Wayne stopped by the most he could, taking care of Alexis while Y/N needed to get errands out of the way.

A busy day flew by and she rested into bed. Checking her phone and realizing she never heard from Eddie. She quickly dialed his number but got no response. With a shrug she headed off to bed, maybe he was a bit busy.

But then that one night without a call turned into a week.

She felt like she was going crazy, countlessly calling him, sending texts. It was like he disappeared.

She texted his manager to make sure he was okay. The good news was he was perfectly fine. The bad news was he was perfectly fine.

The guilt ate him alive.

Watching her call him over and over. The contact picture of her big smile holding Alexis, Ozzy drooling in their laps.

A picture he used to smile at when it would appear.

Now a picture that reminded him of what he didn't feel anymore.

He doesn't know when it happened but one day he woke up and didn't think of her. He went out and performed, hitting up parties before crashing in his hotel room. Plugging in his phone, realizing he never called home. He never even thought to call home.

He shrugged it off for being too busy.

But then he kept forgetting. And now he can't handle the pain in his chest when she calls.

She came to visit him for his birthday. Alexis was overjoyed to see her dad finally after months. Wayne stayed back to take care of Ozzy but planned to visit soon.

Seeing her husband again made her feel better about everything. She understood he is busy, she's been on tour before, she knows how it goes.

But the trip didn't go as well as she planned.

The last night she was there Eddie asked to talk.

Alexis was sleeping in the crib of her hotel room, Eddie's down the hall even though he hasn't slept in it since she came.

She got nervous when he asked to talk in the hall, away from Alexis.

"I want a divorce."

She felt like her heart was yanked out of her chest and stabbed a thousand times.

"wait what?" This wasn't happening. They were fine. They were close to happy. They. Are. Fine.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry but I can't keep lying to you. I can't keep acting like I'm fine when I'm not. I can't keep acting like I love you." He cried, it hurt to even say out loud. It hurt even worse watching her walls build up, her teeth clenching as she refused to cry.

"when Eddie?" She choked out, a finger pressed to her lips. Some type of pressure to keep her sobs inside.

"when what?"

"when did you fall out of love with me?"

"I don't know. One day I woke up on my tour bus and went through the whole day where you didn't cross my mind. I woke up and I didn't miss you anymore." He wanted to touch her, to hold her but he knew he couldn't.

"YOU WON'T EVEN TRY FOR ME?" she screamed, tears leaving her eyes, nothing she could do about it.

"I've been fucking trying. You have no idea how hard I've been scraping to feel something again. I can't make myself love you. I can't change that."

"what did I do wrong? Eddie where do I go wrong?" She begged, feeling her knees giving out from under her.

"nothing baby. Don't do that to yourself okay? You did nothing wrong. You were the perfect wife and everything. This is all on me. People just change"

"No Eddie no! PEOPLE CAN'T JUST CHANGE. You can't love me for one second and not want me anymore. That's not fair. The worst part was that I saw it coming, I knew you’d hurt me, hurt us, but I still kept you around." She sobbed, giving up on standing. Smashing her knees into the floor.

His heart broke watching her. He hated his heart for turning on him. For turning on everything he dreamed of since he was sixteen

"I know it's not fair. I fucking hate this too." Even if she didn't want it, he caged her in his arms. Tears silently falling into her hair. Hers soaking through his Tshirt.

She pushed him off as hard as she could. Anger now filling her.

"YOU PROMISED ME. YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULD ALWAYS LOVE ME. YOU ARE A FUCKING LIAR!"

"I WAS FUCKING NINETEEN! I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS PROMISING! WE WERE YOUNG. WE DIDN'T KNOW OUR FUTURE"

"I did. I wanted my future to be you Eddie! I fucking wanted to love you for the rest of my life. I have spent every day the happiest I've ever been since I met you. And now you just want to take that all away from me? That's so fucking not fair. I'm suddenly supposed to learn a life where I don't get to love you anymore? You have been my life since I was god damn sixteen eddie. What in the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"I don't know. I wish I knew. I wish I could wake up and feel that love I had for you. I've been praying for that every night but I can't find it in me anymore. I will love you always, but I can't say I'm in love with you anymore. I'm so fucking sorry. I wish I could make this better but I can't. In the end you deserve to be loved so fucking much and I can't give that to you anymore." He tried to hold back his own sobs.

Looking at her, it was like he was breaking the heart of her at sixteen. The same bright smile girl he smashed in the hallway. The same girl that held him as he cried. The same girl he twirled around on the dance floor at snowball. The same girl that followed him around the world. The same girl he proposed to in that small apartment. The same girl he vowed to love for the rest of his life.

He wasn't just breaking his wife's heart, he was breaking every version of her heart he learned to love.

She wiped her tears and nodded. Taking a deep breath she stood up.

"I'm going to go home tomorrow and I'll pack. You finish the tour and I'll have the papers ready for you when you come back."

The shut of the hotel door shouldn't have hit him this hard.

Shouldn't have made him fall to his own knees and sob.

But it wasn't just the hotel door closing,

It was closing on the only relationship Eddie ever felt true love.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie angst

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hollywoodxwhore · 2 years ago

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wanted - part one

This is part one of a series I'm writing! Find the masterlist here.

Colson x Original Female Character, Pete X Original Female Character

Warnings: language, alcohol and drugs mentioned, talk of virginity and mentions of sex, mental health and self-esteem mentioned

Note: This is an au where they aren't famous. The band exists but they're just college kids.

Word Count: 2065

I’ve always been the one who gets picked last.

When I was in elementary and middle school, I was always the one chosen last for the team, too skinny and unlikable, or maybe just too invisible to be picked. In high school when I finally had a group of friends, I was never the one that guys went for. I had one boyfriend in high school because my best friend wanted to double-date, so she set me up with her boyfriend’s best friend. We lasted two weeks before I got the ick and broke up with him over text message.

Maybe it was for the best. I had no interest in actually dating guys in high school. I just liked pining after the ones who would never know I existed. It was safer that way; I couldn’t be rejected or get hurt. I found solace in my head, in spending time alone and learning to like it.

I had no interest in sex in high school; it grossed me out and scared the shit out of me, so even if I’d had a boyfriend, I would have never been able to get past making out with him. I was too uncomfortable in my own skin, and the thought of letting someone else see me caused me so much anxiety that it made me sick.

By the time I was 21, I was still a virgin and it was humiliating. All of my friends had lost it and had slept with more than one person at that point, and there I was, never having even gone past making out. I finally lost it to one of my guy friends and cried on the drive home. A year later and I haven’t gone any further than a few handjobs and one blowjob, and I still haven’t had a boyfriend.

I still feel like guys look right through me. I’m not sure why. I think I’m pretty enough, relatively tall with pale blonde hair and green eyes. I wouldn’t say I’m supermodel beautiful by any means, but I’m not ugly. All of my friends tell me I could have anyone I wanted, but I know that isn’t true.

For all of those reasons and more, I can’t wrap my head around why I’ve found myself in the situation I’m in: torn between two gorgeous men who both want me. I want them, too. Both of them. I have no idea how to handle it, and I know it’s all going to crash and burn soon enough.

My life is pretty boring. I don’t really do much other than spend time with girlfriends, do schoolwork, work, and sleep. I’ve decided that this year, I’m going to have some fun. I’m going to meet guys and stop being so timid about it. I’m going to go to parties when invited rather than turn them down like I always do. I’m wasting my youth and I don’t want to do it anymore.

So when my classmate and friend invites me to her band’s show, I say yes.

Sophie is my closest friend in my creative writing program. She’s a horror writer but she’s also a kickass guitar player. She plays in a local band with quite a following; they’re attempting to make it big. I have no idea if they’re good or not; this will be my first time watching them perform. Sophie is the only girl in the band, so she told me she needs girlfriends there to support her.

She told me it was a basement show, nothing too fancy, so I don’t have to dress up. Still, I’m not really sure what to wear to something like this. There’s an afterparty at Sophie’s bandmate’s house and I’m invited to that, too. It’ll be a smaller group of people and she’s insisted that I’ll love her friends. I’m anxious, but excited, too. I hope she’s right.

It’s still warm out, so I decide on a black bodysuit and some high-waisted jean shorts with my favorite high-top Converse. I French-braid my hair, knowing it’ll be hot in the basement, and keep my makeup and jewelry light. I’m feeling good when I leave my apartment, stopping to pick up another one of our classmates, Alicia.

“I hope they’re good or this is gonna be awkward,” Alicia says dryly, applying lipstick in my car mirror.

I chuckle and glance at the GPS. “We’ll support her nonetheless,” I tell her.

“Honestly, they can suck all they want. I’m just going to see the guys in the band,” she says, then moans.

I wince and laugh. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Alicia shoots me a look, her brown eyes glinting. “Have you not seen them?” she asks incredulously. “Every single one of them is fucking hot.”

“No way,” I say skeptically, glancing at her momentarily.

“I mean it,” Alicia says, pulling her phone from her purse. She navigates for a few moments, then holds her phone out. “My personal favorite is the drummer, Rook.”

“Rook?” I ask, glancing at a picture of a guy with a nice smile, wincing. “What’s with the braids?”

“Hey, don’t knock the braids,” Alicia says defensively, pulling her phone back. “His name is JP but he goes by Rook. They all have nicknames. This is Slim, he does the keyboard and stuff.” She turns the phone back to me, phone displaying a picture of a man with warm, brown skin and a beard. “Brandon is his real name, but no one calls him that.”

“Okay, he’s cute,” I offer.

“Baze, or Steve, plays bass,” she says.

“Baze. Bass. Got it,” I say, glancing at a picture of a man with incredible hair and a beard to match. “He’s awesome.”

“And sexy,” Alicia adds. “Justin plays guitar.” Another picture of a man, this one with short dreadlocks. She’s not wrong, every single person is good looking.

“And finally,” she says. “The one that gets all the panties wet.”

“Ew,” I interrupt.

“Kells, the lead singer.” Alicia holds her phone up and I have to do a double-take. On her phone is a picture of, quite possibly, the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Bleach blonde hair, blue eyes, nose rings, jewelry in his ears and on his neck and on his fingers. Skin littered with tattoos.

“Holy shit,” I say, taking her phone to ogle him while at a red light.

“I told you,” Alicia says smugly.

“Is Kells his real name?” I ask, still fixating on the photo.

“Colson,” Alicia says. “Most people call him Kells because their band is called-”

“Machine Gun Kelly,” I answer for her, nodding. “Gotcha.”

The light turns green and I reluctantly hand Alicia back her phone. My skin feels slightly flushed and my heart is beating a little faster. All from a picture. I blow out a breath to regain some composure.

“Colson is single, by the way,” Alicia says, since I don’t ask. “But I guess he doesn’t really date. He mostly sleeps around.”

“Gotcha,” I answer, trying not to sound disappointed. I snap out of it quickly, though, because there’s no way that someone who looks like Colson would go for me.

Soon enough, we arrive at the venue and park in the parking lot. We go inside and squeeze our way into the basement, already stuffed to the gills with people and stiflingly hot. I look around, taking in the haze of smoke hovering above the bodies, smell the scent of cigarettes and weed and the slightly fruity hint of vape smoke. My eyes land on the stage where a couple of people are testing instruments. I don’t recognize any of them from the pictures, so I assume they’re crew.

“How popular are they?” I yell to Alicia over the noise.

“Pretty popular!” Alicia calls back. “Decent amount of streams on Spotify, I think.” I just nod.

We squeeze our way to a spot near the front, and we spot Sophie standing by the side of the stage, a beer in hand as she talks to someone…was it Justin? She turns to spot us and squeals excitedly. “You made it!” she gushes, waving us over. We embrace her together. “This is Justin, the other guitarist. Justin, this is Alex and Alicia.”

“Nice to meet you,” Justin says, shaking our hands. “Glad Soph’s friends could make it.”

“Show’s starting in five minutes, let me grab you beers,” Sophie says, waving for us to follow her. Behind the stage, there’s a small area with tables, equipment, and a fridge. Sophie extracts two beers and hands them to us.

“Sophie, these your friends?” a voice asks. The guy I recognize as Rook, the drummer, approaches, and Alicia blushes. “I’m Rook.” He shakes our hands, holding eye contact with Alicia for a moment. I feel a slight wave of insecurity. It’s always someone else before it’s me.

Sophie turns her head. “Kells! Slim! Baze!” she calls. “Come meet my girls!”

Three men approach, and my eyes immediately land on Colson. Holy shit, he’s even hotter in person. I will myself to relax, play it cool. The guys shake our hands, and sure enough, Colson’s eyes barely skim over mine before he’s looking away, seemingly too cool for this interaction. I’m ready to get into the crowd where I can hide again.

“Five minutes,” a woman calls out to them, and the boys scatter. Sophie leads us to a spot in the front row and my heart rate eases just a little now that I’m not in the presence of so many gorgeous men.

“Hot as fuck, right?” Alicia says with a smirk.

I shrug. “Not like I have a chance with any of them,” I mutter.

Alicia frowns. “That’s so not true, Alex,” she says.

I raise a brow. “Colson barely noticed me. Rook was eye-fucking you.”

“He was, wasn’t he?” Alicia gushes excitedly, and I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. Before our conversation can continue, the lights dim and the band comes out. The room erupts in deafening cheers and I link arms with Alicia as the crowd begins to swell and shift.

“What’s up, we’re Machine Gun Kelly,” Colson says into the mic, another cheer following his words. “Thanks for coming out.” He puts the pick to his guitar and into the mic, shouts, “2, 3, 5!” Immediately, the band breaks into song and I’m instantly impressed by the way they blend.

Colson starts to sing and it’s like my eyes glue themselves to him. I can’t look anywhere else. He’s captivating, the best stage presence I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve been to many concerts. The way he moves, the way he plays the guitar, I’m unable to take my eyes off of him. The song moves into the chorus and I fall in love with his voice, the raspy depth of it, the way it moves over the syllables and notes. Fuck, I’m so attracted to this man.

All night, I try to watch Sophie, try to watch Baze on the bass or Rook on the drums, but my eyes always drift back to Kells. Colson. No wonder every girl wants him. He’s like the human embodiment of sex.

The show ends and everyone claps wildly, including me. It’s the best show I’ve ever been to in my life, and I’m immediately disappointed that it’s over. Alicia turns to me, eyes wild and excited. “Holy shit!” she yells.

“That was fucking incredible!” I say, adrenaline rushing through me. “Wow!”

“Let’s go find Sophie!” Alicia says, taking my hand. We make our way backstage and Sophie runs at us, embracing us again.

“Sophie, holy shit!” I gush. “That was incredible!”

“Thanks,” Sophie says, beaming widely.

“Good show, Soph,” Colson says, wrapping her in a hug.

“That was amazing,” I blurt, looking at Colson.

He gives a lazy smile. “Thanks,” he says, and immediately, he’s gone again, going over to hug Rook.

“You coming to the after party?” Sophie asks.

“Of course,” Alicia says.

Sophie glances over her shoulder and leans in conspiratorially. “Rook thinks you’re cute,” she tells Alicia with a smirk.

Alicia squeals. “Oh, I’m 100% sucking his dick tonight,” she says matter-of-factly, and Sophie and I crack up.

“We’ll probably be there in like an hour,” Sophie says. “Gotta clean up.”

“We’ll go grab something to eat,” I say. “See you there!”

#machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #pete davidson #machine gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson baker fanfic #pete davidson fanfic

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akumaalert · 3 years ago

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Snippet of “Awake” - First Chapter of “Divergence”

Hey, all! Wanted to share a snippet of the first chapter (”Awake”) of “Divergence” - a fic that will offshoot from “Heavy Metal Lover.” Note that this is basically a whole spoiler for chapter 20 of “Heavy Metal Lover.” If you’re like me and see random stuff saying “Don’t click if you haven’t read...” and click anyway: Hi! Welcome, chaos lover. If you like this and want to know the context, please feel free to check out the full work on AO3.

“Divergence” should be posted within two weeks and will be open to requests for the reader (”Lucky”) to have different experiences than what she has in the original. This can mean the following:

- AUs

- Re-tellings of certain scenes of the original

- Reader-specific details included in old or new/original scenes (i.e., reader is plus sized, skinny, tall, short, etc.)

- Genderbending of any of the characters

Originally made this Tumblr to share snippets of the stories on...so happy that I could finally do that! If you want to skip writing that was in the story, you can start at “Though sleep pulled at your eyelids...”

Story contains mature elements, swearing, and explicit mention of sex. Please be forewarned.

Looking back, it would only be a wonder that it did not occur sooner.

As soon as you were alone in the bedroom, you took off your shoes and eyed the clothes Heisenberg had provided you from the factory...

...before turning to the tub.

Couldn't hurt to bathe. Love to be clean.

That man is coming back up to this bedroom.

This is the point, self.

The logical side of your brain, for once, remained quiet.

Though you had clearly lost all sense of sensibility, you at least moved the divider to completely block the tub from any but the most determined of views.

The water had been scalding when you got in.

By the time you had bathed and decided that your foolishness had reached its limit, it was stark cold.

"This was stupid," you said. "Fucking stupid. What did I want? Him to join me? This is the universe saying 'Wake the fuck up.'"

Though your fingers were pruned, you dried yourself off and pulled a nightgown from the small cupboard beneath the sink.

Sheer as ever. Fuck's sake. The universe had truly saved you.

Until it hadn't.

Heisenberg rushed into the room like a rocket and you jumped as the door slammed close.

"...you here, Luck?"

"Yeah," you called out. "Um...don't come over here...gotta get dressed real quick."

"...k" called Heisenberg.

Wasting no time, you slid the gown over your body and made sure to fan out the edges as far as they would go.

You needed no mirror to see your nipples proudly displayed through the fabric.

Mouthing a 'fuck' for good measure, you frowned.

"Heisenberg?"

"Yes?"

"Do you...do you mind looking away for a second?"

"From you?"

"Yes."

"...are...are you coming out naked?"

"No," you snapped.

An awkward silence greeted you.

"Heisenberg?"

"Huh?"

"You looking away?"

"Oh. Yeah. You're good now."

Peeking from behind the divider, you only saw Heisenberg's back.

With more speed than you were familiar with, you bolted to the bed and ducked under the covers.

Once secure beneath the pillowy softness, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay. It’s safe."

You did not miss how Heisenberg whirled around.

"Oh...fuck...that was fast."

"Yeah," you said absently.

"Trying to set a fucking record?"

"Something like that."

"Mmn. I...gotta get changed."

"Okay."

The two of you stared at the other.

"You trying to get a free show or you gonna cover those peepers?"

"...I figured you would go behind the divider."

"The divider is on your side of the bed."

"Oh," you said dumbly. "Oh. Yeah...wait."

Yanking the pillow from underneath your head, you smashed it onto your face above your mouth and pressed down.

Heisenberg chuckled. "Dramatic as hell."

"Doing what you asked of me."

"...didn't formally ask you to...did I?"

Swallowing found your throat on fire.

"Mmn."

"What was that?"

"Mmn," you repeated.

"Heh...don't go into public speaking, kid."

You frowned at the ceiling and the darkness of your eyes.

Instead of speaking, Heisenberg decided to tell you he was done by climbing in the bed beside you. It struck you suddenly that lamps had been placed in the room instead of the candles that the castle was so beset with. But when you removed your pillow, you found yourself met by more muted darkness.

"Sure you okay with this?" asked Heisenberg. "I can fuck off and go into another room. I like to bitch like a drama king, but I don't need anything crazy set up for me."

"Bed is pretty big," you said carelessly. "S'okay. We've been closer."

The chuckle Heisenberg gave was absolutely filthy.

"We have...haven't we?"

The fucking lilt would be the death of you. What a relief it was to blink blindly and stupidly at the man in peace without judgment.

"Hey - last time I'm reminding you...what's your one job?"

"Get you out in the morning," you replied.

"Because?"

"Ah...generators...production line...something about a reset..."

"That's my girl. Nighty night, Luck."

"Night, Heis."

A turn. A breath. A feeling that you would never be able to sleep with the man so close that you could feel his body heat radiating from him like a welcome sign.

But you awoke.

You awoke often.

You awoke in the middle of the night from a dream you could barely recall and all the images of Alcina at the forefront of your mind.

You awoke in Heisenberg's arms and sobbed into his chest as he clung you to him just as sweetly as any of your snowy imaginings.

"Fuck you doing awake? No...shh...it's okay...shh...you're alright. I'm here. I've got you."

Though sleep pulled at your eyelids, you nudged your head up to feel the spikes of Heisenberg's scruff. You had to stay awake. Could not return to sleep and Alcina awaiting you with her long talons and even longer legs.

"Nightmare?"

You nodded into his neck.

"Mmn. Have those myself...think you can go back to sleep? Don't think it's quite time for me to leave yet if you just wanna yak about it or something."

Swallowing, you exhaled. "Don't wanna go back to sleep."

With a grunt, Heisenberg sat up to leave you curled on the sheets.

"Just checking the time..."

When Heisenberg turned to pull something from the floor, you noticed that your eyes had somewhat adjusted to the dark. Enough so that you saw the loose movements of his arms and realized that he had gone to bed without a shirt.

"Fuck...two in the morning..."

"I'm sorry," you said, tensing. But Heisenberg was mumbling and coming back to you with open arms. "Sorry I woke you..."

"S'alright," he said, yawning afterward. "Gotten less sleep and done more stupid things after than make sure the reset doesn't fuck up the factory..."

As he spoke, you could feel one of his hands rubbing up and down your arm a bit too roughly. An awkward and well intended move to comfort you.

"Still...I'm sorry...you need all the sleep you can manage to get. I don't know how much work the whole factory thing will be..."

"Honestly not much as long as I get back in time," he said, hand squeezing your arm for good measure before returning to that same rough rubbing motion. "Could probably even come back here afterwards...heh...that would spook that sixty-foot snake."

You laughed a sleepy laugh and settled further into his grasp.

"Mmn...like a fucking little bunny...cuddling into me and shit..."

"I can stop...pull away..."

Heisenberg's hand stopped rubbing you in favor of clutching you to him.

"Shh...you're talking nonsense. Need some sleep."

"Heis..."

"Shhh..."

"Heis, you can just tell me that you like it when we cuddle."

When he tsked and laid his chin on your head, you smiled. It felt so much like that day at the stronghold.

"Why would I say that? Not in the business of lying to people."

Lying...yes...because what we are doing now is causing you so much distress...

"Well," you said, smiling. "I'll say it then. I like it when we cuddle. Especially in bed. Feels more comfy than cuddling in front of the lycans."

A shiver - as though Heisenberg had been beset by the cold - ran through his body.

"Oof...y'okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." he said absently. "Uh...actually...we might wanna go to sleep after all..."

"Mmn?"

"Yeah...early morning..."

"You mind if I hold onto you for a while? This...this actually helps from the nightmare."

The only way you knew how to describe Heisenberg in that moment was jittery. His movements were fine on their own but were conducted with such awkward quickness as to be alarming.

When he did not answer you, you looked up at him through the dark.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

A beat of silence and then another.

"Nothing's wrong." Quick words to match his quick movement.

"Heisenberg..."

"It's Heis."

"...you...Heis...something isn't right. Just talk to me. In English, preferably."

What you could only assume was a curse in German fell from his lips.

"I...fuck's sake, buttercup...I don't know how to...if you...this was such a bad idea...so fucking STUPID."

"What?" You paused, gathering enough evidence from his huff. "Sleeping together?"

"Yes."

"It was your idea."

"I FUCKING KNOW THAT, OKAY?" he hissed. "Just...I thought...earlier...it made more sense...this made more sense..."

"Glad something did because I am completely and utterly confused," you admitted.

"You're confused? You started flirting with me." Heisenberg grumbled something low and rough. "Fucking gave me ideas...false hope...so I thought...guh I'm such a fucking idiot..."

Hope began to fuel you too. Fuel you and feed into the most terrible of terrific ideas.

"Are you...whatever you're trying to say...I was flirting with you. That wasn't false. Honestly...I was in the bathtub just moments before you came in hoping you would join me."

"...you what now?"

You could not help but laugh. The fact that you could not see Heisenberg's expressive face only added to the hilarity as you imagined a hundred different emotions running through that scarred skin.

"I took a bath...a long one...hoping that you would come up here in the middle of it and offer to join me...figured one thing could lead into another and the bed was here anyway..."

The pauses in between Heisenberg's voice could only endear you to him. He seemed every bit lost for words.

"You...are you talking about...what are you talking about?"

"Sleeping with you," you supplied with a shrug. "What are you talking about?"

"Sleeping...you...ah...I wasn't...I wasn't mistaken? Shit...I...I may or may not have a fucking stiffy over here...because the cuddling is...something you enjoy so much."

"Oh?" you purred. The chance of escaping in the delights of Heisenberg’s body made your body positively teem with anticipation. But you could not forget your own actions...the last time you had seen him in such a vulnerable state. Losing some confidence, you glanced at the darkness of the bed instead of his body. "Umm...I want to touch you...want to...would it be okay if I touched you?"

"Yeah...course. You've touched me before."

"No...I mean...is it...fuck...can I jack you off?"

For a long while, Heisenberg said nothing.

The next thing you heard was a rattling spit.

"OUCH GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKER!" he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"Pinched myself."

"You...why are you pinching yourself?"

"Because I'm clearly fucking awake but clearly dreaming at the same time because yes, I would enjoy that very much. Please. And thank you."

"Are...are you sure?"

Heisenberg's hand came down heavy but without malice on your neck.

"OW!"

"Shit...I was trying to grab your hand."

Providing your hand to his, you hitched a breath when he splayed it against his chest. His heartbeat thudded against your palm. Wrenching your knees upward, you brushed against that heated length between his legs.

"I...um...we should probably talk about boundaries before I do this."

"Huh?"

"Is this...are you okay with me just jacking you off?"

"Just? This is a goddamn holiday. Marking it on the calendar. Nothing little about it."

"Dumbass. That's not what I'm saying," you said, scratching his chest somewhat affectionately to show him that you meant no harm. "Do you...are you wanting anything more? Because I'm on my period...I'm up for it...but it might get messy and I know that's the last mess I want a certain someone finding."

"We...we can do more? More like..." You heard him take in a shaky inhale. "Can we...is like full blown intercourse on the table?"

"Sure...long as you don't call it that again," you said, shaking your head.

Grumbling and tensing his shoulders, Heisenberg whined when you dropped your touch to round one of his nipples.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to call it?"

"Sex. Fucking. Making love," you added jokingly. "Um...ah...you know...I hadn't thought about it, but maybe you genuinely didn't know. German to English...or...ah...Romanian to English. Might not have those words."

"I like making love," he said with certainty in his voice. "Let's do that. Make love."

You had expected him to laugh at that suggestion if he acknowledged it at all. But there he was giddy and practically giggling over the most flowery option he was given.

"Okay...are there any places that you don't like being touched?"

"Not that I know of," he admitted. "Are there...is there somewhere I shouldn't touch you?"

"Not necessarily...just...no going down on me this time. Sex is one thing-"

"Making love."

"-us um...us making love is fine, but I don't want to get eaten out while my period is going on. And don't show me your dick after or comment on the blood...just...get rid of it. Please. And...and nothing too crazy to start out with. I'm not a prude, but don't want to be choked or anything harsh like that. Just...vanilla for our first go. Then we can see where things take us."

"Roger that! Heard loud and clear," he said, leaning his face to kiss your forehead. For all the lack of a relationship, Heisenberg was making you feel far much more mushy and cared for than your ex ever had. You let your hand round his stomach slow and soft in response.

"Thank you. We...if you want to, I'll jack you off for a bit before you grab the condom."

"The...I don't have one of those."

That made you freeze.

"Not even in this room? Your chambers? If you don't feel like getting up, I can grab them from wherever they are."

Heisenberg went uncharacteristically quiet.

"Heis?"

"None in this room," he said plainly.

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable by asking...but...is that typical? You having sex without a condom?"

It worried you. Here you were all too willing to have him fuck you into the mattress while he could be having all sorts of unprotected sex with who knows who in the village. He was attractive - a lord. Anyone with a pair of eyes could easily fall in lust if not love with him.

Anyone with ears too...fucking sexy ringmaster voice...

"Not typical, no."

"No? Has it just...been a while?"

"Never."

"Huh?"

"Never made love before."

That sent you sitting up in bed.

"WHAT?"

"What?"

"HEISEN..." you lowered your voice, realizing he was growing tense. "You've never...I don't believe you. Quit joking. Not the time."

"Not joking," he grumbled. "Why would I joke about that?"

"You're just..."

"I'm what?"

"You're you," you said as if it clarified anything at all. "You're a lord in a small town. You have a face of a model. Not...not trying to open old wounds, but you're absolutely gorgeous underneath all those layers..."

"Yeah," he snorted. "Fatass McGee will be strutting the runways any day now."

"Oh my god...you're serious." Lying back down, you brought your hand to the clothed length between his legs. He had grown noticeably more soft since the brush of your knee, but you could feel his cock twitch when you cupped him. "So...no one? Not even foreplay or...what about kissing?"

"...ahhh...nah...none of that either...you're probably the first person to see me naked since I was a little kid...well...maybe a few folks in Constantinople. Got sloshed one time and woke up naked tied to a lamppost. But...other than that...all you."

There seemed to be no end to the surprises that would fall from Heisenberg's mouth. You stared at him - or the inky shadow that was him - and ran teasing fingers up his shaft.

"I uhh...fuck...I'm pretty sure anyone who saw me then is dead by now though," he supplied.

"Heis...you're so fucking ridiculous."

#heavy metal lover #divergence #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you

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dragonheart-swtor · 4 years ago

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Sith Inquisitor Storyline: Drunk History Version

Y’all, and by y’all I mean one person (@sith-shenanigans thank you very much), asked for it, and I live to repeat this over and over for others’ amusement, so here it is. Have my summary of the pinball machine that is the Sith Inquisitor storyline, from memory, originally drafted a while back in DMs with a friend who’s never played SWTOR. Spoilers for the Sith Inquisitor storyline, obviously.

Without further ado: Let us begin.

- So your story begins as a recently sort-of-freed slave walking off a ship and onto Hell: The Planet. (The nonhuman Inquisitor immediately experiences 2483947 microaggressions.)

- You have to compete with a bunch of other people! Only one of you is not going to die and the overseer has already picked his favorite, seemingly purely because he happens to have red skin. They will both (the overseer and Teacher’s Pet) proceed to be as annoying as possible for the rest of the Korriban story.

- multiple people try to kill you, but you’re the protagonist, so fuck them

- “Teacher’s Pet, you go to the library and translate these texts. Protagonist, you go to this ancient tomb and figure out how to retrieve an artifact from a lock that no one has been able to open in ten thousand years.” “Libraries are boring anyway. Yawn.”

- You finally get to smackdown with Teacher’s Pet, which is satisfying as hell. Unfortunately the overseer gets pissy about it. Fortunately, the Sith you’ve been competing to be the apprentice of decided she liked you early on and has also been playing favorites, so you don’t die immediately.

- your master is great! much more into positive reinforcement than most Sith.

- at some point you semi-accidentally steal someone else's cult on Nar Shaddaa and now they worship you as a nigh-on god. whoops. you just kind of... leave and let them run their own business. you pay them visits later in the storyline.

- you also become part bug so you can go skinny dipping in radioactive waste. it’s fine, we promise.

- your master is trying to steal your body because turns out she's actually really old and kind of dying so she plans on kicking you out of your body, transplanting her own soul in your place, killing her old body, and assuming your identity after "you" "killed" "your master"! that's not great, better not let her do that.

- you successfully didn't let her do that! wait, now she's sharing a body with one of your companions, an ancient monster who you kind of forced into submission and who serves you rather unwillingly now. there is apparently nothing that can be done about this so sometimes your eight-foot-tall monster not-friend talks in a high, unnervingly smooth feminine voice and tries to convince you she's on your side now that she's forced by this new body to not harm you. this is also not great but what are you gonna do. he is also Not Pleased about this by the way, and really who can blame him.

- some darth on the dark council named Thanaton decides to get pissy with you for reasons I don't remember and now he's trying to kill you. what the fuck.

- he actually almost does kill you but your old master's other apprentices, who are now your apprentices, save you from the brink of death.

- (the apprentices, by the way, are very sweet and I love them. they’re murdered by thanaton almost immediately.)

- your solution to "I need more power, fast", for some godforsaken reason, is "I'm going to learn to walk the line between life and death and EAT GHOSTS" and I wish I were exaggerating this

- you go out and eat a bunch of ghosts of old Sith on various planets

- subpoint to this: on one of these planets, you accomplish this by coercing the ghost's descendant, a Jedi padawan named Ashara, to get the ghost to appear so you can eat him. You end up murdering her masters in the process because one way or another they find out about your plan. She is understandably horrified by this turn of events and, feeling she has no chance of returning to the Jedi, reluctantly joins your crew and either (Light Side Quizzy) learns to balance light and dark sides of the Force and becomes ultimately stronger for it, or (Dark Side Quizzy) lives in abject terror of you for the rest of the storyline. I love her dearly as well. fortunately she is not murdered by thanaton.

- congrats! you ate enough ghosts to have enough power to beat thanaton up!

- unfortunately, you have Ate Too Many Ghosts Disease now and need immediate medical attention.

- your mind kind of just Shatters and you may or may not have hallucinations for a while iirc. either way you need help or you're just gonna disintegrate slowly until the ghosts overwhelm you and take over. you go to Voss and participate in some wild Force ritual they've got to take care of that. it's a fun time

- your body is also having a bad time and that also needs fixing; I don't remember where you go for this (Belsavis, I think?) but you end up checking out a machine made by a long-dead alien civilization and the machine turns out to a) be sentient and b) be responsible for CREATING A GOOD PORTION OF THE GALAXY'S NEAR-HUMAN SPECIES, IF NOT ALL OF THEM, AND DISSEMINATING THEM TO THE GALAXY AS PART OF THE RAKATA'S EXPERIMENTS ON CREATING FORCE-SENSITIVE LIFEFORMS IN HOPES OF KEEPING THEIR OWN SPECIES FROM DYING OUT BECAUSE THEY WERE SUPER RACIST AND EVENTUALLY THAT RACISM KICKED THEM IN THE ASS IN THE FORM OF A MASS REVOLUTION THAT WIPED THEM OUT COMPLETELY BUT THE MACHINE IS STILL HERE

- all right I’m calm sorry I derailed for a moment

- I have a lot of thoughts about things

- anyway the machine bUILDS YOU A NEW FUCKING BODY and you're good to go now

- (by the way, depending what species you're playing, it's entirely possible you learn at this point that your entire species only exists because of this machine!)

- (anyway.)

- okay, mind fixed, body fixed, ghosts consumed, we're good to go! time to murder a dark councilor!

- "we do that"

- except you don't because you're on corellia and this dipshit challenges you to a kaggath without really ever explaining in detail what a kaggath is or what the rules (if any) are, we just know it seems to be the ancient and very formal Sith way of saying "meet me in the denny's parking lot at 3am if you want an ass-kicking", and then hE RUNS OFF TO DROMUND KAAS WHICH DEPENDING ON WHAT GALAXY MAP YOU BELIEVE IS UP TO FIVE DAYS' TRAVEL AWAY

- YOU'RE CANONICALLY JUST CHASING THIS LITTLE BITCH THROUGH SPACE FOR FIVE DAYS AFTER HE CHALLENGED YOU

- he then goes to the Dark Council to try to convince them to help him kill you and you literally have to just go to the Dark Council chambers too and kick in the door and go "HEARD YOU WERE TALKIN SHIT" in front of everyone

- (which to be fair is basically Sith philosophy in a nutshell)

- Ravage and Marr spend this entire council meeting just exchanging tired glances and going "no, fuck you, why can't you kill them, they're your problem. fight for our entertainment now. fuck you"

- (Darth Baras did this exact same shit earlier the same day, by the way, with the Sith Warrior. and by “earlier the same day” I mean “like fifteen minutes prior to this.”)

- you fight Thanaton. to no one's surprise, because you're the protagonist and because he's being a little bitch about it, you kick his ass and slaughter him in front of everyone

- half the Council stands up and you just kind of go "oh shit I'm gonna die"

- but no

- you're being promoted

- congration you done it you're a dark councilor now

- someone complains because wait, they're not even a darth, you can't be a dark councilor if you're not even a darth

- first person responds with "well fuck you then, we'll make them a darth. hey you. your name is Darth Nox (dark side)/Imperius (light side)/Occulus (neutral) now. take a seat"

- "but - what?"

- "take a fuckin seat, babe"

- "o- okay"

- "you run the entire Ancient Knowledge sector now, by the way, despite the fact that you may or may not be illiterate due to having been raised a slave, because that was what Thanaton ran and we only have the one job opening since the Warrior just killed Baras"

- (the Warrior, freshly coined the Emperor's Wrath officially, waves from their corner where they're cleaning Baras's blood off their boots)

- "I - okay, I guess"

and that’s the Sith Inquisitor storyline. That’s a wrap, folks, roll credits. if this gets enough notes and/or if literally anyone says they’d like to see it I may also post the Imperial Agent and/or do other class stories, I enjoy these way too much

#i should put this through a star wars scrolling text maker #do they have those? i can't imagine there's not one out there #swtor #sith inquisitor #drunk history swtor

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priestessamy · 3 years ago

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I... wanna talk about the live-action Cowboy Bebop at some length, and obviously there are gonna be spoilers

But for people who just want my opinions at a glance before hitting the Read More, I'll just say that it's greatest sin is that it's mediocre. There seems to have been love put into the effort, which just makes it more tragic.

It was a tall order from the start to adapt a beloved story in a medium well-known for never quite nailing it.

Let's start off with the good stuff, because I wanna be fair. At times, they very clearly tried to course correct for some of the OG story's elements that were... of its time. Women are given a bigger role. Queerness is an inherent part of the world and not treated as a big deal or a taboo. Those are things worth addressing when you're trying to adapt something. Faye hooking up with that hot mechanic lady was a good attempt, but it mostly felt like pandering to me. I liked that the MC at Anna's was either nonbinary or at least GNC or whatever (though they were, y'know, skinny and attractive and all that boring stuff).

Most of the actors were doing their best with the material (but I'll be addressing some uhhh... issues in a sec). John Cho was a solid Spike, the guy playing Jet was cool, and Faye's character was often pretty entertaining.

Um. So now the other stuff.

I think the biggest issue starts with the fact that the episodes are an hour, not 30 minutes. This forces the writers to take simple, interesting stories and stretching them out with filler material. Stray Dog Strut is a perfect example, because it's no longer "we're trying to catch this bounty while dealing with a weird special dog". There has to be all this nonsense with wealthy peoples' pets getting stolen, and the bounty being the one to steal all of them, and he's got some weird dog abuse hideout by the atmo farms and... It's all just so unnecessary.

And then there's the western focus on over-arching stories that was way less important in a show like the original Bebop. The anime was often rambling, focused on the protags just trying to get by. So some of that filler I mentioned was occupied by all the stuff with the Syndicate. And since Vicious was the only other person in the anime to be associated with the Syndicate, he gets to go bumbling around with all this crime family drama that wasn't really necessary (or interesting).

Being live action, it was also hampered by the limitations of practical effects and CGI. Characters doing things from within their ships becomes so much harder because you're likely green-screening in stuff and inherently making it look unreal. The uncanny valley is a harsh mistress.

I applaud the attempt to make changes, but more often than not they felt like they did nothing of value, or worse they were distracting or made the story actively less good. Jet having a daughter that constantly came up and he would go to visit her and have awkward moments with his wife... It could have been good, but it was just... nothing. It felt like space!Terry Jeffords constantly talking about Cagney and Lacy or whatever.

I also can't understand why they put the story so wildly out of order. Like LeFou showed up so goddamn early and that's supposed to be like a late moment in the show. And I feel like he was only brought in to be an iconic hook for fans of the original. And they didn't even give him his dumb-ass balloon suit in, I assume, an effort to give his character more gravitas??

But ultimately my biggest complain goes back to Vicious and Julia. They kept showing up, and I kept going "um why??" It might have at least been interesting if Vicious had been more stoic and brooding, or if Julia had more to do instead of just getting a zero hour 180 where she goes "surprise I wanna run the Syndicate now, haha I'm the bad lady girlboss".

I suspect that some of that may come down to their actors. As I said to my friends, the guy playing Vicious chews so much scenery he's gonna need goddamn dentures. There's nothing terrifying about him, he's just this bug-eyed, giant-chinned wackadoo who likes to do a murder on people.

And jesus, Julia. They clearly wanted to give another major female character a bigger presence and arc. But she spends 99% of the show just hanging around Vicious and showing only a minimum of agency - see the scene where she chooses to sing of her own volition so someone will do something for them. She even gets to shoot Vicious during the church showdown - cool! And then she wants Spike to help her run the Syndicate - excuse me? And the actress plays her so vacant, a Spirit Halloween store is gonna move into her next September!

The church showdown suffers a lot from the extended runtime too. Yeah, Faye is no longer damseled during that arc, so instead they damsel Jet's daughter? God, there's so many details I wanna address, but that would require me to watch it again!

Finally, we have to talk about Ed. I got a little nervous when Ed played some kind of background character feeding leads to Jet, which was... a choice, I guess. And then they show up for a stinger on the very last episode and... I never use this word because it's so abused. But it was cringe. It was so bad. It was a little kid doing a silly voice dressed in a thrift store cosplay with a bad, bad wig. Like they were only on screen for maybe thirty seconds and it hurt so bad to see. I don't think I can possibly watch the second season if I have to deal with that for longer than a short scene, y'know?

So... God, yeah. It's a real 'two steps forward, three steps back' situation. They tried, and they failed, and that's the greatest tragedy of the whole damn thing.

#cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop netflix #i know a lot of people enjoyed it #and maybe this will cause them to rewatch the anime #and see that maybe this new version is too flawed #there's so much i didnt even get to either #but this sums up enough

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popcrone818 · 4 years ago

Text

Spitfire Sweet Pea x Reader

Okay officially a new story, but don’t worry I am still working on some of my unfinished park as well. So if you follow me don’t be discouraged sweet pea kind of just jumped at me

I followed Archie as he went to warn jughead about the dangers of becoming a serpent, I had to make sure my brother didn’t ruin any chance of keeping his friendship with him, it was my civil duty as younger sister. Jughead was leaving the trailer as we rounded the corner.

“Archie, Aurora,” Jughead started down the steps looking around frantically.

“We gotta talk Jug,” Archie started.

“Uh nows really not a good time, okay, you need to leave, okay, both of you.” Jughead put his hands on Archie’s shoulder but looked over at me, seeming to just remember that I was standing there too.

“What the hell is going on!” Archie tried to get jughead to talk to him.

“Serious man, take your sister and just go.” Jughead started to try to push Archie way.

“What the hell do we have here?” A strong deep voice that didn’t belong to Archie nor jughead growled from behind us. I whipped my head around to find a rather tall fierce looking serpent with what appeared to be the aftermath of a black eye slowly fading away from his left eye socket, making his way up to us. He was flanked by a few other younger serpents I had seen around. Fangs Fogarty being one of them, he and I had spoken on the occasion and he was one of the few that were nice to me.

“They’re just leaving alright.” Jughead said as he walked over to the tall serpent.

“You’re friends with these thugs?” Archie exclaimed from behind me. My head whipped in his direction ripping my eyes away from the serpents and their leather clad shoulders. Was he being serious.

“It’s not what you think,” Jughead stood slightly in front of the serpents as Archie walked up to him.

“Are you joining the serpents?” Archie questioned incredulously.

“If he survives.” Tall dark and stormy said dangerously. His voice was deeper than I originally thought.

I could see his serpent tattoo on his neck as he looked over at Jughead. “And go ahead and call us thugs one more time.” He started to make his way to Archie and I, a hard look written on his face, he clearly wanted a fight and if I didn’t get Archie out of here soon he surely would get what he wanted.

“Jughead! These are the guys that attacked me.” Jughead placed a hand on the tall serpents shoulder and pushed him back keeping him at arms length away from Archie and I. “And Reggie and Veronica and Dilton, your friends,” Jughead scowled at Archie, I was going to have my hands full with these boys if they didn’t stop soon.

“Is that why you’re here? To warn me?”

“No, I came here to tell you to stay away from Betty and Rory, she doesn’t want to see you anymore, and I don’t want to see you hanging around my place for my sister.” I could see the anger rolling off Jughead in waves. I noticed the tall serpent look over to Fangs and roll his eyes.

“Screw you I just saw Betty yesterday she,” a look of complete horror crossed his face “she was fine.”

“No dude, she’s been wanting to break up with you for weeks, she’s been agonising over it, since you crossed to the dark side, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.” Archie returned a look of remorse on his face.

“What so she sent you, Betty would never do that!”

“If you don’t believe me then call her, and feel free to tell her you’re a serpent now too I’ll bet she’ll love that, she saw where you were headed Jughead, okay we all did, and she knows you can’t be with them and with her and come on man you know it too.” I watched as Archie’s words started to sink in for Jughead, his bottom lip started to wobble slightly and tears gathered in his eyes. Suddenly his face changed.

“Tell Betty I got the message,” a hard look was plastered on is face.

“Yeah, come on Aurora, we’re leaving.” And he started to walk away from his best friend.

“I’m sorry Archie but I’m staying, I’ll see you at home.” He shrugged and walked off.

“Rory, just go home, you don’t need to see this.” Jug came closer to me and spoke softly.

“Listen to him Northsider, you don’t need to be here.” The tall serpent called out to me.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, I’m going to be here for my friend whether you like it or not!” I turned my gaze to him, he looked shocked for a spilt second before his eyes darkened once again. Jughead turned to the rest of the serpents.

“What! Did you enjoy the show?”

“Show hasn’t even started yet.” Tall, dark and stormy crossed his arms over his chest before chuckling towards Fangs. Soon enough the serpents had made a pathway with Jughead standing at one end. I stood further off to the side to keep watch. As Jughead made his way through the line up of serpents I cringed every time a blow was landed on him. The gauntlet seemed intense, much more intense than the other challenges he had to go through. He had told me about them because I was less judgmental than my brother and the rest of his friends. Jughead spit out some blood before looking at the tall serpent from before.

“That all you got?” Jughead challenged him. There was almost half a foot between the two boys snd I winced when the serpent clenched his fist around a set of brass knuckles and swung for Jughead’s face. He was knocked to the ground and I covered my mouth in shock. I never wanted to be on the wrong side of this serpent. Jughead got back up and spit out some more blood. I held back a gasp as he looked over at me causing the taller serpent to also look over at me. Something flashed in his eyes but it was gone before I could decipher it. The serpents left, tall, dark and stormy giving me one more look before he urned away and followed the rest of them and I walked up to Jug and cradled his face in my hands. I led him into his trailer and sat him down to the dinning table before I walked into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. I cleaned up the cuts on his face before he stood up.

“I’ve gotta get to the wyrm. You coming or staying here?” He asked, Jughead was always more accepting of me wanting to be involved in things. Archie liked to lock me away from the world and protect me. I nodded at him and got up to follow him out. The tall serpent was playing on my mind the whole time as I wrapped my arms around Jug as we headed to the Whyte wyrm on his bike. He helped me off his bike even though he knows I don’t need the help, and we made our way inside where the lighting was tinged slightly red and it was dimmer than outside. I squinted before my eyes adjusted and Jughead placed his hand on the small of my back and lead me to the bar where a pink haired girl was standing behind the bar.

“I see you survived Juggie, Tall boy is just over there if you want to go get your very own jacket.” She said to him. He nodded at her before turning to me. I waved him off and turned around on the stool to the girl.

“I’m Aurora, but I usually go by Rory.” I held my hand out to her to shake. She shook it grinning.

“I’m Toni, but I usually go by Toni.” She giggled which caused me to giggle with her. My eyes found Jughead again just as he slipped his arms into his new serpent jacket. I smiled fondly at him.

“Are you two together?” She asked me as she poured out a glass of coke and pushed it towards me. I shook my head taking a large sip of the drink.

“No he’s my brothers best friend, but he knows that I’m more accepting of all of this than Archie is, or really any of our friends.” She nodded at me before gesturing behind me.

“Sweet pea hasn’t stopped watching you since you walked in.” I whipped my head around to look where she was looking and I noticed the tall serpent that had done Jug’s initiation. I looked down at what I was wearing, ripped black skinny jeans with a loose fitting band t-shirt, I don’t think I stood out that much. I shrugged at Toni before turning back around to her, before I could open my mouth to say something to her I heard a booming deep voice from behind me.

“You lost northsider?” I swivelled around on my stool and looked up at the giant of a serpent member.

“No I came with Jughead, got a problem take it up with him.” I turned back around to face Toni as she filled up my glass once again. His hands came to rest on the bar on either side of me, I felt his breath on the back of my neck and involuntarily shivered and I turned my head to look at him. All I could see of him was his deep brown eyes and a dark curl falling onto his forehead.

“The names Sweet Pea, but you are definitely not supposed to be here, this place is for serpents only.” He pulled away from me and I turned back around to look at him as he stared down at me. I could see Jughead out of the corner of my eye but he didn’t intervene he knew I could hold my own.

“Well then I might just have to become a serpent myself, I like this place.” I shrugged and I watched as both Sweet Pea and Jughead’s eyes nearly popped out of their heads.

“You want to become a serpent?” I heard from somewhere off to the side of me. I ripped my gaze away from Sweet Pea and looked at the serpent who spoke. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. Archie could kill me later, I wanted this. Everyone had been nothing but accommodating to me in the short time I had been sitting at the bar. Some of the older serpents had even tried to talk to me while I was talking to Toni. “Names Tall boy little lady, if you want to be a serpent then initiation will start for you tomorrow. Be here at 12 noon, and be ready.” He turned around and walked back up to what I assumed was the office reserved for only the leader of the serpents, usually FP but with him in jail it was Tall boy. Everyone went back to their own business after that including sweet pea, but Jughead made his way over to me.

“Are you insane? Archie will kill you!” Jughead sat down next me and I shrugged.

“I’m sick of being looked down upon as only Archie’s little sister. It’s time for me to be my own person don’t you think?” I asked him crossing my arms against my chest.

“I knew you and I were too similar for Archie’s liking.” He pulled me into his chest as he chuckled looking around. “I don’t know what they do for female initiation though so maybe talk to Toni about it.” I nodded against his chest before pushing him away and turning to Toni.

“So what happens? What have I gotten myself into this time?” She chuckled before filling a shot glass up with whiskey.

“You’re in for a real treat. Everything is basically the same, you get hotdog, gotta recite the serpent laws and gotta grab the knife. Only difference is us girls gotta do a strip tease for the other members.” I scrunched my face up at her as she pushed the shot glass to me. “Drink up, I think you need it because you didn’t think this through.” I nodded at her and downed the shot of whiskey. It ran smoothly down my throat without even earning a grimace from me.

“Wow that’s good, I’ve never had whiskey that smooth before.” I felt a body come up behind me.

“It’s the best the wyrm has to offer.” He breathed into my ear. I turned around and saw an older man maybe in his mid 30’s leaning against the bar beside me. “Only the best for the prettiest girl here.” He brushed a strand of my hair away from my face. “Names Jason sweet cheeks, what’s yours?”

“Aurora.” I could see Toni wanting to say something but I shot her a look to not do anything. Her eyes flickered behind me almost startled.

“Well Aurora, could I buy you a drink?” He asked me leaning in a little bit too close. I nodded my head and he gestured for Toni to get me a drink of the whiskey I had had before. I looked back around the wyrm and noticed Fangs, Sweet Pea and Jughead were all standing by a pool table. Sweet Pea was lining up a shot but our eyes connected briefly before Jason grabbed my attention again by placing his hand on my thigh. “I can’t wait for you to do he dance tomorrow night sweet cheeks.” His eyes were hooded and I could tell he had been drinking most of the night. Jughead came over just as Jason’s hand travelled further up my thigh.

“It think its time to go Rory.” He said to me placing a hand in my shoulder and glancing at he older serpent. I nodded and turned back to Jason.

“Thank you for the drink and the company, I’ll see you around.” With that Jughead lead me out to his bike to take me home.

I pulled off Jughead’s helmet from my head and passed it to him.

“Thanks for tonight, I’ll make sure not to tell Archie about any of it.” He gave me a hug and he was on his way home. I made my way inside the house and up to my room, getting stopped by Archie before I could open my door.

“Have fun with the snakes tonight?” He sneered at me, Archie had never been this way with me and I was curious as to way he suddenly changed his attitude during the night.

“What’s wrong with you? Your best friend just became a serpent to protect himself and his dad and all you can do is make his life hell by saying Betty doesn’t want to be with him anymore? You’re a real great friend there Arch, have fun being on your own because I think he’s done with you now. Because I know I sure am.” I hissed at him before going into my own room.

Sweet Pea POV

I watched as the red head that stuck around to watch the gauntlet for Jones walked in, she held herself differently from every other northsider. Instead of the air around her feeling arrogant she was just confident. She was wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a band t-shirt and I found myself staring at her. Fangs nudged me in the side before giving me a look like go and talk to her. I shook my head at him and took my shot at the pool table ready to destroy Fangs.

“You know, she’s actually really nice, she’s always treated me like I was an actual person. We have bumped into each other at pop’s a few times. Other than being that red headed weirdo’s sister she’s pretty cool.” I chose to ignore him completely but I looked up at her a few times during our game. I noticed she got along with Toni well, the two giggling at something before the red head turned around to look in our direction. She looked down at herself before shrugging and turning back to Toni. I pushed my pool cue into Fangs before I made my way over to the two girls keeping my eyes on her at all times.

“You lost Northsider?” I sneered at her.

“No, I came with Jughead, got a problem with it take it up with him.” She turned back around to face Toni. I moved closer to the girl and placed both my hands on the bar on either side of her. I watched as she shivered as my breath hit the back of her neck. She turned her head to look at me and I was suddenly overcome with the feeling that I should kiss her. Her bright green eyes shone under the dim lights of the wyrm. I could tell she was intently looking at me too.

“The names Sweet Pea, but you are definitely not supposed to be here, this place is for serpents only.” I whispered in her ear before moving away from her. I watched as she glanced over to Jones before looking me in the eyes the best she could from her sitting position.

“Well then I might just have to become a serpent myself, I like this place.” I nearly choked on my own spit as Jones came up to us almost choking as well.

“You want to become a serpent?” I heard Tall Boy say as he made his way over to our small group. She nodded and looked at him. “Names Tall boy little lady, if you want to be a serpent then initiation will start for you tomorrow. Be here at 12 noon, and be ready.” With that he walked away, everyone else turned away from the scene and after I gave her one last look I made my way back over to Fangs.

After a game I watched as an older serpent named Jason made his way over to her, he was getting too close to her snd I could tell she was becoming uncomfortable with it.

“Dude, just go over there. She’s got bite and could give you a run for your money. But stop staring its weird.” Fangs shoved my side again before I took my shoot watching her out of the corner of my eye. I watched as she downed the shot of whiskey he bought her. She looked around the bar and our eyes connected briefly causing me to mess up my shot when he placed his hand on her thigh. She jumped slightly at the contact and I felt my jaw tense, he needs to learn how to keep his damn hands to himself. Jughead watched me before he made his way over to her and lead her out. I walked up to Toni to get myself a beer to calm down.

“You were watching her all night.” Toni said as she cleaned a glass that had just been washed. I didn’t give her an answer because it wasn’t a question. “You helping with her initiation?”

“I don’t get why she gets to just say ‘I think it’ll be fun to be a serpent’ and bam her initiation is tomorrow, most of us are relatives of old serpent members. Ahhh”. Slammed my hand down on the bar in front of me.

“Dude just chill, okay, she’s actually really cool once you get to know her.” Toni told me getting me another beer.

“I’ll be the judge of that. I’m sure Tall boy will make me do her initiation anyway.” I shrugged before finishing off my last bear and nodding to Toni and Fangs before I left.

Aurora POV

The next day I made sure Archie was nowhere to be seen when I made my way out the door. He was stood against my car with his arms crossed.

“Where do you think your going? And dressed like that?” He asked me, I looked down at what I was wearing, ripped grey skinny’s with a tight fitting tank top and leather jacket across my shoulders, under this I was wearing a sexy pair of red lacy lingerie ready for the serpent dance I would be doing later that night.

“I’m going out, to see your best friend because apparently you’ve forgotten you have one.” I tried to push him out of the way to get to my car.

“He chose them Rory, what do you want me to do?” He threw his hands up for emphases before letting them fall at his sides loudly.

“I want you to understand why he’s doing this. He goes to school there! From what I’ve heard it is not the best place to be if your not in a gang for protection, you might not think much of the serpents but in the few short months that I’ve been around Jug and the serpents I haven’t had a problem with them, so maybe get off your high horse and see that your best friend needs you before he replaces you with someone he see’s more as family!” I yelled at him as I finally got him to move away from my car. I slammed the door in his face and watched as his face fell as I drove out of the driveway.

My initiation was quick and all too soon I was standing by the stage ready to perform my serpent dance. I wrung my hands together as Toni walked up to me holding a shot glass.

“They’re all pigs out there, but its part of initiation and if you want to be a serpent all I can say to you is good luck and maybe find something or someone to focus on.” She held out the glass to me and without even thinking I downed the shot, feeling it spread throughout my body as the music started. “I’ll be waiting right here for you with your new jacket.” She gave me a thumbs up and I walked out on the stage.

I looked out into the sea of serpents hoping to find Jughead to have something to focus on. As I flung my shirt off my body my eyes connected with Sweet Pea’s, he held his beer in his hand bringing it up to his lips as I shimmied out of my jeans. He and I held eye contact as I finished up my dance. I could hear all the serpents chanting and hollering at me but all I could focus on was Sweet Pea. As the music stopped I rushed off the stage where Toni was standing with my jeans and new serpent jacket. I quickly redressed myself as Fangs and Sweet Pea joined us to the side of the stage. Sweet Pea helped me put my jacket on before he gathered up my hair to pull out of my collar.

“You’re officially a serpent now. How do you think your brothers going to react once he finds out?” He placed his hands on my shoulders. I shared a look with Toni, I had completely forgotten about Archie today.

“I guess he’ll just never find out then.” I shrugged as the four of us made our way to the bar. I felt Sweet Pea squeeze my shoulder before he sat down on a stool and turned to Toni who had already grabbed beers for us all.

“You’re brother is going to kill you Rory.” I felt Jughead place his hands where Sweet Pea had his moments ago. I shrugged at him as I took a sip of my beer.

“Honestly I think he needs to get his head out of his ass. You guys are actually really cool and I’m glad I get to call you my friends now too. Let him kill me he wouldn’t he loves me too much.” The door to the wyrm was thrown open and all I could see was a bunch of letterman jackets in blue and gold walk in like they owned the joint.

“Aurora! We’re going home now!” I heard Archie yell at me walking over to us at the bar.

“Um, no thanks I’m good here.” I turned my body away from him. He stood over me but I watched as Sweet Pea stood up to my right and Reggie stood up next to Archie. Part of me shied away from Archie and Reggie and the other part of me wanted to be a serpent, so I stood up next to Sweet Pea gently placing my hand on his as a way of telling him to stand down. I placed my body slightly in front of Sweet Pea’s and stared down Archie and Reggie as best I could being nearly a foot shorter than the three boys currently surrounding me.

“You’re one of them now? A serpent?” Archie scoffed in my face, I felt Sweet Pea stiffen slightly and move closer now touching my back with his lower stomach.

“Yes now please leave before you make a fool of yourself even more than your doing now!” I pointed to the door and watched Archie turn his head to look, I grabbed Sweet Pea’s bicep and basically ripped him back towards the bar.

“You know, I’d still bang you Andrew’s even if you are just another serpent slut.” Reggie whispered in my ear closest to Sweet Pea. I felt him tense up again but this time I let him go. He swung his fist into reggie’s jaw and suddenly there was an all out brawl in the middle of the wyrm. I watched Reggie and Sweet Pea continue to go at each other. Archie pulled Reggie off Sweet Pea and Jughead grabbed Sweet Pea.

“You’ve just made a big mistake Rory.” Archie yelled as he dragged the bulldogs out of the wyrm. I turned back to Toni who handed me a shot. I took it gratefully before I turned to Sweet Pea. He had a bruise already starting to form on his cheek and a cut lip.

“You didn’t need to do that Sweet Pea, I can handle Reggie.” I told him placing my hand on his cheek gently so as to not hurt him.

“What’s serpent law number 1 Rory?” He looked me in the eyes.

“No serpent stands alone.” I recited. He nodded and turned his head away from me. “I better go have a screaming match with my brother, I’ll see you guys later.” Toni nodded at me and I made my way out of the wyrm and started my walk back to the Northside

#sweet pea imagines #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea #sweet pea x oc #jordan connor

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corner-stories · 4 years ago

Text

for it isn't a dream (not a dream after all)

Calem. Serena.

Love At First Sight. Origin Stories. Impoverished Patricians.

19th Century Period Drama But Make It Pokemon.

13123 words

(ao3.)

…

(in my life)

…

Calem Bellamy-Beaufort had been born from diamonds, but raised in the dirt.

At birth he was named Baron Calem Xavier Trevelyan — his middle name representing his paternal grandfather who had earned a war fought generations ago, his surname representing the Galarian Viscount that was his father. Said Viscount had won over Calem’s Baroness mother on an endless wave of charm, promising a life of wealth and prosperity if they started a life together.

Had Calem’s mother knew what the deceitful nobleman truly had in store for her, she would have never let him into her world. Viscount Trevelyan had drained the Bellamy-Beaufort fortune, squandering the riches on horses and wine and women despite the wellbeing of his wife and child being at stake. Nowadays Kalos did not recognize the title of Baroness Bellamy-Beaufort, especially after her husband abandoned her and her four-year-old son to join his lover back in Wyndon. The impact of his actions had been enough to sully the Bellamy-Beaufort name, causing his once affluent wife and child to live in squalor.

As a result, Calem has few memories of his father. He only knows that the peaceful life he used to live in Camphrier Town had suddenly ended when his mother sold all her belongings and moved them to a desolate shack outside of Coumarine City. He was too young to comprehend what exactly his father had done, only that all the shouting matches between his parents had culminated in the man leaving and his mother breaking down in heavy tears.

From the moment Calem could walk, he began to work. Before he could read, he learned to shine shoes, usually cleaning the boots of soldiers and brogues of noblemen. His efforts had earned him enough francs for food as well as the affectionate nickname “Xav” amongst the troopers stationed near Coumarine. He earned coins by selling newspapers to the citizens of the city. He would stand on street corners with a paper in hand, giving out news of Kalosian Lords and Dukes as if he was never one of them in the first place. His mother took up honest work in a manor, where she served those who turned their noses at her and would never even think that the scullery maid ever lived a life amongst the diamonds.

At the age of thirteen, Calem had decided that his future resided in the heart of Kalos. The stories of the great city of Lumiose had clouded his mind and refused to leave. He did not even know exactly what he wanted to do with his life, just that the key to his life resided in the city of lifes. All he needed to do was actually make the move to discover that dream. His mother told him to stay with her, as she believed otherwise and that his future was by her side, but Calem persisted until his mother gave in. All young boys left home eventually, she just didn’t think that it would happen so soon.

To fund his move, he began working harder — selling more papers, shining more shoes, and even taking up work at a nearby Skiddo ranch to earn extra francs.

Calem went from a quiet little boy who shined shoes in street corners to a tall, admirable young man. His hair was black like the night’s inky skies, his face was sharper than the blade of a soldier’s sabre, and his eyes were blue like the water off the Ambrette coast. In another life where the world would acknowledge him as the handsome young Baron of Rivière Walk, he would have made strides within the Kalosian ballrooms and could have attracted many pairs of eyes to his angelically handsome face.

He left at age fifteen and never looked back. He kept his mother in his heart and sent letters to her as often as he could. He promised her that he would send a small percentage of his earnings, praying to Arceus that it would somehow keep her afloat.

Calem was not formally educated, but he could read and write and his arms and legs were as strong from his years of physical labour. He first found work at a shoe shining stand near Lumiose Station, occasionally playing with the napping Skiddo between shines. Six months later, his employer let him go due to the Kalos monarchy’s insistence that its citizens pay even more taxes. That left Calem to find work as a courier, where he would travel the city delivering packages and messages to Lumiose’s countless citizens and visitors.

…

A year into his stay in the city of lights, Calem comes across something digging through the garbage in the alley behind his apartment. Despite his muscles aching from a long day of work, his curiosity gets the best of him and he approaches the rummaging stranger.

After getting closer, he discovers that the thing rifling through food scraps and broken furniture is a little creature no taller than his knee. Its body is brown, but the claws on its feet are pale white and the spikes on its head are green. Calem is taken aback, as he has never seen a creature like this before — it differs greatly from the Skiddo and Gogoat he had grown up around.

Eventually, the tiny creature stops rifling through the pile of trash and looks up at Calem — its eyes are black and beady and frightened. It shows fear in the presence of a person who means no harm.

Calem acts on his first instinct.

“Hungry?” he asks. He reaches to his satchel and pulls out a half-eaten loaf of bread, a tip granted to him from a particularly happy client. The bread is unlike the soft and buttery brioche given to the more fortunate, but the few bites Calem has taken has given him enough strength for the day and he no longer needs it.

So Calem kneels to the ground, holding the bun out to the little creature with green spikes on its head.

“There is nothing good in the garbage,” he explains. “That’s for sure.

Curiously, the creature takes a few steps towards Calem and sniffs the bread curiously. Before he knows it, the creature starts nibbling on the loaf. Judging by its reaction, the bread is clearly more desirable than the rotten cheese and veggie scraps in the trash.

An hour later Calem has brought the creature into his minuscule apartment — a living space that only really has room for a cot, a desk, and a stove. He has nothing else of value on him but a few borrowed books, a stack of stationary, the blue overcoat his mother had given him before he left, and a little bit of food to get him through his days. He lets the little creature have some grapes and cheese while he reads his books, attempting some research to better understand the situation. After flipping through enough notes written by men more brilliant than him, Calem finds some information on the creature in his room.

Its official name is Chespin — the green spikes on its head are soft but when flexed grow hard enough to pierce a rock, its curious tendencies get it into trouble, its optimistic nature makes it an uplifting partner creature for anyone to have.

It takes no time before Calem decides to keep it.

…

(she has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun)

…

On an autumn’s day, Calem is seventeen. The soles of his well-worn boots slap the cobblestones as he heads towards Jaune Plaza. At his feet is a never-ending ball of energy that refuses to stay down, yet Calem absolutely loves it to pieces. At one point, Chespin climbs up the tails of Calem’s coat and perches on the young man’s shoulders, garnering a soft smile from his master.

“The view must be better from up here, is it?” he says.

The two walk south on Hibernal Avenue, where the whole street is aglow with citizens and creatures. Locals argue with food vendors, tax collectors roam around alongside their fearsome Houndoom for protection, and scholars walk upon the cobblestones with a vacant pondering in their eyes.

Calem passes by the more well-dressed men who walk alongside well-groomed Furfrou and pampered Pyroar. In his heart, he knows that they would never look twice at a young man like him, with his ratty blue overcoat and scuffed boots. Yet somehow, Calem finds himself listening in on their conversation. For all the disdain they may show him, his curiosity persists.

He hears the two men talk of books and writings that are only valuable to those who can afford it. They are too old to be students, so he guesses that they are perhaps professors, maybe of medicine or art or breeding of the creatures that surround them in this world.

Soon enough, the two wealthy men pass him by. Like the young man had suspected, they do not look at him twice.

Calem then hears the sound of splashing.

He glances across the street to see another creature running amok — this one is short, blue, has a cape of bubbles hanging off the back of its neck, and owns a pair of bright yellow eyes that crinkle as it smiles. The creature currently splashes about in a puddle, rolling around as if it were an infant just learning how to move. Calem can’t help but stop and watch it go — he’s never seen a creature like that before.

“Froakie, you silly thing!” says a voice.

The creature rolls out of the puddle and shakes the water off its skin. Using its skinny legs, it hops over to the bottom end of a dress skirt and leaps into the arms of the wearer.

Then Calem sees her.

Her hair is golden blonde and sways in the wind, her eyes grey like steel, and her smile as she holds her creature is absolutely delightful. She wears an immaculate black dress and ornate hat in a scarlet hue, something that could seem so common yet makes her stand out like she’s the only person on the street.

Like a fool, Calem can only stand there and stare. To say that she looks beautiful is an absolute understatement. His heart beats faster than a star falling from the sky, his world feels like it’s spinning around.

Then she looks up.

The stranger’s eyes meet his. They widen slightly just like his as she takes him in from across the street. As she holds her creature in her arms, her mouth is open but still, as if she’s looking for the words but does not know what to say. Calem doesn’t know what parts of him make her look at him that way, but he doesn’t question it.

The two make no sound as the world of Hibernal Avenue moves around them like a clock.

An older man then taps the young woman’s shoulder. Just like her she is very well dressed with a spotless tailored coat and a top hat that makes him look rather tall. She looks to him as one would to a father and he motions for them to go down the street. She nods politely and follows, giving Calem one more longing glance before disappearing into an alleyway.

But as she walks, Calem notices something falling from her person, an item seemingly slipping out of the basket she carries.

Acting indifferent to his own rationale, Calem takes a few steps forward. He arrives at the spot of the dropped item and picks up, soon learning that it is nothing more than a simple white handkerchief. With the little cloth now in his hands, he looks down the alleyway in search of the girl with the golden hair.

But to his despair, she’s gone.

…

Calem meets arrives at a Jaune Plaza Cafe, a small establishment that sells things like ale and wine and a stew that is rather palpable as long as one doesn’t question what’s in it. He finds his friends sitting at a table in the corner and takes the empty chair on the right. Chespin then hops off his shoulder and decides to sit on his master’s lap.

His friends do not press as to why he arrived late and continue their conversation like nothing has changed. As Calem orders a meal, he hears one of his more talkative friends tell an amusing tale.

Shauna Jan is a short girl of only fifteen, her eyes are bright green and her hair is deep brown and long enough that it goes to her waist. When she speaks, she always does so with a happy spirit to her high-pitched voice. When she smiles, her eyes get small and crinkle at the corners. She works at an Inn in South Boulevard, an establishment run by her parents that is a far cry from Hotel Richissime, but known to the common-folk as a safe place to stay in such an unpredictable city. Her partner creature is a chipper little thing called a Skitty, which prefers to nap near its master’s feet as opposed to doing anything else. She currently tells a tale of an incident earlier today where she caught a customer trying to pilfer some wine bottles that he did not pay for. Calem listens and learns that Shauna got to chase the man away with a broom, something her father was rather proud of her for doing.

The story garners a laugh from Calem and his other two friends. Sitting beside Shauna is Tierno Todaro, a paunchy seventeen-year-old who loves life as much as he loves a good waltz or schottische. With a grin, he puts an arm around Shauna and congratulates her for a job well done. He then goes on to say that his job — a sanitation position at a shop on Hibernal Avenue — is not remotely as interesting. The most amusing thing he sees is rich merchants and scholars roaming the streets all day, as if their lives are so unfulfilling that they must walk around the common folk to feel alive again. Even his own partner, a clawed creature referred to as a Corphish, gets more out of its own existence than the wealthy.

When Tierno expresses his thoughts on scholars, Calem looks over to the more silent friend of the group, the shy and brainy Trevor Pascal, a young fifteen-year-old who is shorter than Shauna and has a head of bright orange hair. He is the quietest friend of the group, but that is only because he does not speak unless he sees it necessary. He’s a boy who dreams of studying Pokemon and prays that his job selling newspapers will somehow fund it. Knowing that it is Trevor’s goal to become a scholar, Calem wonders if the boy will say anything in the event of Tierno’s comments about them, but upon glancing over he only sees Trevor with his eyes glued to the pages of a book. Even his partner Flabebe seems more interested in reading than paying attention to anything else.

Calem and Trevor’s dreams are awfully similar, the only difference being that Calem simply wants to discover what other creatures the world has to hold, whereas Trevor is content with studying what humanity has already found.

The friends continue to talk about their current lives. As the conversation goes on, Calem feasts on a bowl of stew — or as Shauna likes to call it: brown mush. The taste in question is rather unremarkable, but it’s something Calem looks forward to after a day of work. It’s his usual meal when he doesn’t have any extra coin on him, meaning that he eats it quite often. Despite the dubious origins of the stew’s meat and vegetables, it has kept him alive for this long and his stomach has yet to reject it. Even his Chespin doesn’t refuse it when Calem offers up a spoonful to his partner.

As the friends talk, Calem stirs the brown mush boredly as the sound of his companions and the cafe’s other patrons turns into plain ambiance against his ears.

“Calem?” says Tierno’s voice.

He does not hear him the first time.

“Calem!” Tierno’s voice says once more. He reaches over and taps his friend’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with you today? You’re not usually this silent.”

“Have some wine,” Shauna suggests, motioning to the bottle in the middle of the table. “Tell us what’s going on.”

Calem glances up and meets his friend’s gazes with his own. Even the shy Trevor looks worried for him.

“I had a long day,” he tries. He pats his Chespin on his lap, as the little one has started to nap. “We went all over the city searching for one customer.”

His friends nod along. They understand his job, as it’s a hair more physically more involved than their own. He spends his days running across the streets of Lumiose with packages or messages in his satchel. People call on him to deliver because they know he’s fast and dependable. When they need an object or letter sent inside city lines, the citizens of Lumiose simply call for the boy with the blue coat and the head of dark hair.

Today was no different, as it took Calem and Chespin hours to track down a man named Clemont Charpentier, an apparent inventor who dreams of making mechanisms to improve humanity’s life among the fantastical creatures.

Calem tells the tale and hopes that it will be enough for his friends. His better judgement tells him that they do not need to know of who he saw today, and how in a single moment, his entire world felt as if it had changed.

…

Throughout history, the strange creatures that inhabit the world — despite all their differences — had one shared trait: an eagerness to fight. So in the basement of the Jauna Plaza Cafe is an illicit operation, a tournament of sorts where people put their partner creatures against others. What started as a form of entertainment for the commonfolk evolved into a game for people to play in order to show off the strengths of their creatures. Tournaments like this were popular with the more wealthy folk, but are nigh impossible for a working person to spectate, let alone participate.

Despite his young age, Calem has built a reputation for himself in the basement of the cafe. Every week, he and his Chespin will see what opponent they can take on. The first had been a man with a creature called a Litleo, another had been against a winged being called a Noibat, and the most memorable was against a bulky pink beast referred to as an Audino. Those who do not know him as the messenger boy in the blue coat know him as the one commanding the mighty Chespin to victory. Although he gets mere coins for his fights, Calem accepts any winnings in stride and tucks them deep into his pockets.

Tonight is no exception, as after the meal, he and his friends head down to the basement where a world of competitors awaits him. Tonight he and Chespin go against a creature they have never seen before. The opposing creature’s master calls it an Azumarill and despite its stubby legs and floppy blue ears, it proves to pack quite the punch.

But Calem and Chespin persevere. In the cramped walls of the cafe basement with a crowd of people cheering them on, Calem and Chespin ride on a wave to victory. Calem fights as if he is a soldier and keeps up a sense of honour as if his family’s title had never been sullied.

…

Night comes and Calem walks Shauna to her home on South Boulevard. Skitty and Chespin walk in front of them like guards in Parfum Palace. Calem keeps his hands in his coat pockets as Shauna leads the way and proceeds to chat his ears off. They walk down the street and pass a street performer, a young girl no older than ten who sings a wistful song for the citizens of Kalos to drop coins into her tattered brown hat.

Lumiose is always dreary at night, a harsh contrast to the lively city it becomes during the day. What once was a bustling metropolis feels like the depths of the desolate woods once the citizens retreat indoors. The street lamps can only do so much to let the life of the streets survive.

Calem cares for Shauna like one would a little sister. He protects her like a young Pancham that has only been brought into this world. He watches over her like any big brother would.

It helps that she knows of his past, knows why he has come to Lumiose, and knows why a child with a double-barreled surname like his has been taking up work as a lowly courier in a tattered coat. She knows that his mother gave her own name in order to avoid any association with his bastard of a father.

“Calem, what’s wrong with you?” Shauna suddenly asks.

He blinks, then eyes his friend as they continue to walk. “What do you mean?”

“You’re still lost in that haze,” Shauna says and she knows she’s right. “What’s really wrong with you today?”

Calem sighs and digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He knows that Shauna will simply press even more in any attempt to hide. Most people see Shauna’s excitable and impatient nature and assume she is not as bright as her disposition, but those people would be very surprised to discover just how good she is at getting secrets out of a person. The Kalosian Army would make a good spy out of her.

“Promise you won’t tell the others?”

Shauna puts her hand on her heart. “Not a soul.”

“I saw a girl today,” Calem explains. He tries to remain calm as if his words mean nothing at all.

Shauna begins grinning like a fool. “Was she pretty?”

“She was…” Calem starts, but then struggles to continue. “She was a girl I have never seen before.”

He thinks back and tries to remember the face of the girl, from her long flowing hair to the wistful look in her pretty eyes. He tries to recall if he had ever delivered letters to either her or the older man who appeared to be her father. For the life of him, he can’t remember a thing.

“I only saw her for a minute there,” Calem tells Shauna. “And she was gone.”

Shauna lets out a laugh of disbelief. “Good Arceus, is Calem Bellamy-Beaufort in love at last?”

Calem eyes her quizzically. “What do you mean by that?”

“She must have been heavenly to have caught your eye,” Shauna suggests, motioning forward to Chespin and Skitty in front of them. “Tierno says that you carry yourself like you’ve never seen a woman in your life.”

He scoffs and sharply says, “That’s absolutely preposterous, my mother raised me.”

Shauna lets out a laugh and Calem finds himself smiling. He avoids her gaze and looks down to the Lumiose cobblestones. “That girl though, she wore a black dress and a red hat… and I may never see her again.”

“A love story for the ages,” Shauna comments in a playful voice. With a cheeky grin, she strides forward and leads the two on their way down the streets.

When they get to South Boulevard, Shauna asks Calem a simple question.

“Can you tell Tierno I won’t be able to make it next week?”

Calem nods his head. “Are you busy?”

“I have to take some extra shifts,” she says in a tone that’s less bright than her usual voice.

Concerned, Calem begs another question: “Is something wrong?”

Shauna looks down. “My mother has fallen ill. Father needs me to cover more shifts so we can afford medicine.”

To see Shauna looking so downtrodden is strange. She may very well be the most cheerful person that Calem knows, yet even her sunshine demeanor is susceptible to the reality she exists in.

Calem starts to think, which causes eyebrows to knit. As he and Shauna get closer to her family inn, a choice dances in his head. He turns to Shauna and looks her in the eye.

“How much money do you need?”

Shauna blinks. “What?”

“How much does the medicine cost?” Calem tries again. He turns to her and speaks with conviction in his voice. “I can cover it.”

Shauna shakes her head. “Calem, I cannot take anything from you.”

Calem stops walking and begins digging through his pockets. He pulls out some coins and a single banknote. It’s nothing compared to the fortune his father gambled away, but he holds it to Shauna like it’s fit for a king.

“You can pay me back later,” he says. “Shauna, I trust you.”

Shauna looks hesitant as she eyes the money. Eventually, she starts counting in her head, then takes most of the coins that her friend holds. She counts the coins with the same unsure look in her eyes. Once she’s done, she looks up to meet her friend’s gaze. Although she still looks uneasy, she says:

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Calem says, nodding his head.

“I shall pay you back as soon as I can,” Shauna promises. “If there is anything I can do for you now, please tell me.”

For a second, Calem thinks. He then says the first thing on his mind. “Actually… is there someone you can find for me?”

…

Calem’s apartment is a hole in a wall in the otherwise vast city of Lumiose. For all the city’s talk about beauty, the accommodations for the commonfolk were often dingy and infested with small creatures they referred to as Dedenne. Calem’s place in particular is cramped and constricting, but it’s enough for him and his partner.

When Calem returns to his abode, his Chespin is absolutely exhausted. He removes his coat as his partner creature stumbles through the room and hops onto the bed.

Calem wastes no time in finding the loose floorboard by his bed and lifts it up, revealing his hiding place with all of his valuable belongings, like his life savings and the wedding ring that his mother told him to save for an important occasion. He empties his pockets and places the money that he has next to the rest. He then replaces the floorboard back over his valuables.

As his Chespin naps, Calem goes to his writing desk, procures a piece of paper and a pen and writes a letter to his mother apologizing for not being able to send funds this month.

…

(tell me child, what is your name?)

…

Serena Johanssen was born in the dirt, but raised among diamonds. Nowadays she lived a happy life under the loving eyes of Augustine Sycamore, a scholar who had taken under his wing and loved her like they were father and daughter.

Of course, Sycamore wasn’t her actual father. While their eyes were the same shade of grey, her hair was bright like honey, his was dark like a shadow. Her smile was soft and gentle, his was charming and alluring. She spent her days reading stories and reports from lands beyond the city, he spent his days researching and studying. But that did not matter. They might as well have been related by blood because Sycamore raised her like she was his own.

They had met years ago outside of Lumiose, at a time of Serena’s life that was very unlike the way it was now.

For as long as Serena could remember, she was not like the other girls she knew. Instead of having ribbons to tie in her hair, she had shoes so thin that her little toes would turn red in the cold. Instead of having a loving Mama or Papa, she was watched over by the owners of the Dendemille Inn, a husband and wife who had taken her from a children’s home and promised her shelter as long as she did what she was told.

Serena could not remember her life before, even the supposed memory of her living amongst other orphans and street rats felt fuzzy in her head. All she could ever really acknowledge was that despite Kalos being a region of beauty, Dendemille was a city under constant cover of clouds. Even if snow would not descend from the frigid skies, the ground would be cold.

Sometimes Serena asked her caretakers where she had been before she had been placed in the children’s home. What they told her was that they were actually old friends of her Mama, that connection being the reason they were able to adopt her and have her live in the Inn. When Serena asked about her Mama, her caretakers would never answer beyond giving her name, which was Grace.

Serena’s days were often cold, but the nights were even colder — during evenings where she would sweep and scrub every corner of the Inn with her tiny hands, she would huddle near the hearth of the fireplace in a desperate bid to bask in the remaining warmth of the embers. Her meals consisted of a thin gruel that was varying shades of grey and brown but mostly grey.

Sometimes Serena would let herself dream. There was a shop in Dendemille with an open window, and in that window was a doll clad in a pretty pink dress and blue bow. Its hair was tied in a braid and its feet were small, just like hers. She dreamed that maybe one day if she saved enough coins from Inn guests, she would be able to buy the doll for herself. At the very least, she would have a friend with her while she slept at night.

On a winter’s evening when Serena was eight, the Inn was exceedingly crowded. Travellers from near and far had gathered in the main tavern to eat the food her caretakers provided, that being a bowl of stew with meat of a questionable origin and a cup of wine diluted with liquid of a questionable origin. Serena walked around the tavern, gathering dirty dishes as the guests around her told tales of adventures from far away. Serena often liked working on nights like this because she could eavesdrop on conversations from the travellers, then later on as she slept on the hay in the stables, she would dream about the stories she heard. The travellers often spoke of creatures she could never even imagine — dragon-like beings that could circle the globe in one second, long serpentine beasts with flesh of stone and steel, large avians that could soar through the sky.

At one point of the evening, Serena’s caretaker pulled her aside, reaching into her dress pockets for extra coins. The wife of the Inn ordered her to get some water from the well, which anyone would have abhorred on a freezing night like this, let alone a small child.

But she couldn’t say no — or risk the firm hand of the husband of the Inn — so barefoot in the snow Serena grasped a bucket in her hand as she headed up north to a place colder than the town, a cavern of frost that not even the locals ventured into.

The world around Serena was cold, yet as she trudged through the snow, she knew she was not alone. The creatures she found up in the woods were not as fantastical or viscous as the ones she heard of from the mouths of travellers, but they were no less sentient and alive. As Serena fished up a bucket of water from the well, a small horde of ice creatures surrounded her. She had seen some of them before — a few little white bears with runny noses, short pink birds with yellow hair and an adorable waddling gait, and the most peculiar of them all, a seemingly sentient chunk of ice with purple around their bright eyes.

Serena called these creatures her friends because she had no one else. Not even the people who were supposed to act like a Mama and Papa to her. She sang sweet soft melodies to them as she did not know any real songs, but they listened and appeared to be enjoying it as they gathered around the little girl by the well.

Then suddenly in the midst of the night, Serena saw a figure walking in the dark. One of the bears with the runny noses alerted her, and when she saw the person walking she gasped, dropped her bucket beside the well, and hid behind the closest tree she could find. Her creature friends fled as well, scattering back into the woods.

“Fear not, I mean no harm!” said the voice of the stranger. He took a few more steps, the moonlight illuminating his face. He wore a clean, fancy coat that reminded Serena of the richer travellers that would stay at the Inn, as well as a pristine top hat that only exuded the idea of wealth. Even if this man was not as rich as he dressed, he could still afford many comforts.

Serena stayed hidden behind the tree, peeking out just in time to see the man removing his hat, a sign of respect if she ever knew one.

“Bonsoir, my name is Augustine Sycamore,” he told her in a soft voice. He knelt down to her, yet kept a good distance away. His eyes were unlike the ones she was used to, soft, gentle, and inviting. “You can call me Gus. Tell me, Child, what is your name?”

“I am called Serena,” she told him.

Augustine smiled, then noticed her bucket on the ground by the well. “That looks very heavy, Serena. Would you like me to help?”

“You do not look very strong, Monsieur,” Serena said, still hiding behind the tree.

The gentleman laughed. “Oh my, what an honest child you are. It’s nothing I cannot handle, though.”

Serena thought for a few seconds, then stepped away from the tree. Together with Augustine, they fetched a bucket of water from the well, then with one hand on the handle and the other around hers, escorted her back to Dendemille Town. Although they were strangers, Augustine was warm — the way he looked at her made Serena think of the Papa or Mama she had been dreaming off her whole life.

When they got back to Dendemille, Serena showed Augustine some of her favourite parts of the place because he would listen — like the street lamp that glows the brightest even in the late of night or the doll in the shop window she would always look at.

Then as they approached the Inn, Augustine looked down to Serena and put on a more serious face. “Now, Serena, listen close to what I have to say. I am an old friend of Grace’s.”

“Of Mama’s?”

A soft, but sad smile crept onto Augustine’s lips. “Yes, of your Mama’s.”

A rush of excitement ran through Serena’s heart. “Is she coming to be with me?”

That was when Augustine’s face got more and more dour. He stopped walking, then kneeled down in front of the little one. “Serena, it breaks my heart to say that your Mama is not with us anymore. She is… she is no more.”

Serena went still. Her arms felt like ice colder than the snow in the city. She did not know what to think now and could only look into the eyes of Augustine, the dark pools that almost glistened in the moonlight.

“But in lieu of death, there is space to make life,” said Augustine. “And I promised her that I would take care of you… but only if you, and your caretakers, will let it be.”

Serena thought for a few seconds, then asked curiously, “So you’ll be my Papa?”

“Of course,” Augustine assured. “Like a Papa and a Mama to you. Is that okay?”

And with his hand in hers, he took Serena to the Inn where she lived to talk to her caretakers. Serena did not hear much of the conversation, only that Augustine had a letter from Grace allowing Serena to be with him. He tended to move around the region for work, but had the means to make sure that the little one could be cared for wherever they went. Serena’s caretakers ignored his main intentions and tried to bring him into the Inn for some gruel or watered-down wine, but Augustine refused. Serena sat by the hearth, taking in the last bit of warmth by the fire as the adults spoke. Eventually, she witnessed Augustine nod sternly and pull out a wad of bills from his pocket. He counted off a rather handsome amount of francs, then handed it over to the husband of the Inn.

Then without waiting another second, he made his way to Serena by the fire. He took off his coat and put it over her. “We are to go now, Serena,” he said, taking her hand.

With a nod, Serena stood up and walked with him to the door of the Inn. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of feigned cries from both her caretakers, something that felt as unreal like the creatures she heard about from faraway lands.

Before they left Dendemille, Augustine made use of the time before their carriage arrived. With Serena’s hand in his, he brought her to the store with the doll in the window, handed the old clerk another fraction of the bills in his pocket, and took the pristine doll in his hands. Then immediately, he knelt down to Serena and held it to her.

Serena could only stare in surprise. So many things had happened, some felt as make believe as a dream, yet others reminded her that this was very much real. She looked at the doll, then up to Augustine’s eyes.

“Take it,” he told her in a voice as gentle as a little fall of rain. “It is a gift from me to you.”

With a small smile, Serena took the doll, holding it like it was made of gold. It was heavier and bigger than it looked in the store window, but she held it tight nonetheless. As they waited for their late-night transportation, Serena held the doll close to her like it was her line between life and death. Augustine asked if she wanted to play with it, but she replied that holding it tight to her was playing.

Once the carriage arrived, Augustine carried her on board. His plan was for them to stay at a place in Couriway Town, a settlement known for the gorgeous waterfalls that cascaded off the cliffs. With her new doll in her grasp, Serena leaned her head on Augustine, closing her eyes as she let the gentle lull of the carriage’s wheels put her to sleep.

Her heart felt warm and full of light, the world around her was cold yet somehow she could feel the chill slowly seeping away as she entered her new life. All at once in the midst of the night, Serena finally understood what it was like to be loved.

…

Years later and Serena is fourteen, yet there is only an echo of the lonely frigid girl she used to be. She proves to be rather tall for her age, rapidly growing from a small underfed child to a young girl rapidly on the path to womanhood. Augustine even jokes that at the current rate she just might become taller than him.

Augustine is not of noble birth, but he is from considerable wealth. His great-grandfather had concocted a formula for a pristine tonic that would bring life to even the baldest of heads and a wax that could tame even the wildest of hairs. After charming a horde of Kalosian nobility with the product’s effectiveness, the Sycamore family had amassed enough wealth to allow Augustine to spend his life travelling throughout Kalos and researching the creatures that live in the region. And of course, his wealth allowed him to keep Serena as safe and as loved as he could. Although Serena is not a Sycamore by name, Augustine makes plans to change her name legally to guarantee her inheritance in the wake of his death.

When Serena is not travelling around with Uncle Gus, she’s being taught by various tutors in as many subjects as possible — literature, latin, arithmetic, calligraphy, history, art, science, and music.

Ever since she learned to read, she had been absorbing the words in the books that Augustine uses for his studies. Each one is full of wonders and sketches of creatures around the Kalos region and beyond. There’s something called a Bunnelby with floppy ears and a coat of short grey hair and there’s another called Dedenne that’s so small that one could fit it in the pocket of their coat.

She cannot help it, there is something exceedingly alluring and fascinating about the creatures. In particular, she comes across a page in a book regarding a trio of green and red and blue. According to the notes scribbled in the margins, the creatures hold abilities connected to grass, fire, and water. The tiny fire fox-like one is said to spout fire from its mouth, the blue frog can leap dozens of feet into the air and generate bubbles at a whim, and the one with the green head can shoot spikes of wood. It’s fascinating to think that creatures like this can live all around the world, but it’s even more fascinating for Serena to acknowledge that they very well may live outside of her window.

One day when Serena and Augustine are staying in Lumiose City in an apartment connected to a gated green garden amongst the sea of cobblestones. After a calligraphy lesson with her tutor, the young girl heads to a lab on South Boulevard where she had planned to meet her Uncle for an afternoon stroll. Upon entering a building made with white marble beams, Serena discovers an unusual sight for such a well-structured place — shards of glass are scattered upon the floor in the foyer. There are a handful of maids cleaning up the mess and they urge her to be careful or risk pricking herself upon the sharp edges.

A confused Serena holds onto the hem of her dress as she dashes through the building, searching around the rooms in a fervent haste. She heads to the second floor and soon finds who she is looking for at a room at the end of the hallway.

It appears to be a library of sorts, as various thick books line the walls. Augustine is standing with a group of other well-dressed men, no doubt the scholars he spent his days studying with. On the ground are more shards of glass, all culminating in a broken window above the highest shelf.

“Uncle! What happened?!” Serena asks with the utmost worrying in her voice. “Were you robbed?”

Augustine takes his eyes away from his notes and looks at his ward. A similar look of fear slips into his gaze. He walks to her, setting his hand on her shoulder and quickly guiding her out of the library.

“Let us speak outside,” he suggests in a soft voice. He takes her out into the hall, where things are more quiet.

Once they are out of the room of scholars, Augustine tells her what he can.

“You can rest assured that we have not been robbed,” he starts. “We simply had an accident, nothing more.”

His words do little to quell Serena’s fear. “What in Yvetal’s hellscape happened in there?”

“I can assure you that no one was harmed,” Augustine continues. His gaze upon her is plagued with intensity, such a vast change from the warm way he usually looks upon her. “We brought some specimens into the lab and they may have… escaped.”

“Exactly what specimens did you bring?” Serena asks, her fear now changing into curiosity.

“Ones in the books that you read so much,” Augustine says. “A Chespin, a Fennekin, as well as a Froakie — fine specimens, they are, such a shame we could not keep them under control.” He places a hand on her shoulder again and plants a kiss upon her forehead, something he had been doing since she was a young girl. “I know I promised you a stroll by the tower, but I must tend to this matter. Perhaps we can meet in an hour?”

Serena shakes her head, then leans in to give him a hug “Do not fret, Uncle. Take as much time as you need. What exactly made the specimens run?”

“I do not remember that well,” Augustine admits. “But you know how some creatures like to fight — we believe that they have taken things a bit too far. The Chespin apparently took some food from the Fennekin and they got a bit… rowdy.” He pats her on the shoulder again, “But this should not bother you, please head home and I shall meet you there.”

Serena nods her head. After Augustine gives her another forehead kiss, he walks back into the messy library to rejoin his colleagues.

Serena leaves the lab with much calmer steps. As she passes by another broken window by the front of the building, she begins to wonder just how far a small trio of tiny creatures could go in a city so vast.

She had read in her favourite books that Chespin liked to live in forests underneath trees, but the closest forest to Lumiose is outside of the city lines. Fennekin enjoyed living in fields, but Lumiose had no such things. Froakie would often make their homes in rivers and lakes and ponds, but the river that ran through the city seemed too touched by man to let nature thrive.

With her bonnet over her head, Serena makes her way back to her and Augustine’s home, an apartment north of Autumnal Avenue. She makes her way through the city streets, passing by merchants and street performers and students. Even under the current circumstances, she appreciates the liveliness of the city. Lumiose had its own heartbeat, very much like a human body made of flesh and blood and bone. Even the imaginary stories she read often spoke about how Lumiose could hold the key to one’s heart.

Serena walks with the wind blowing through the ends of her hair and the hem of her dress. She comes through Bleu Plaza, one of the least crowded plazas of the city. Unusual for the place, there is a group of people huddled around a fountain in the middle of the street. In no time her curiosity gets the best of her and she walks towards the horde, her heart practically begging to find out what’s going on.

In the fountain that has garnered such attention is something that surprises her — playing in the water is a creature with blue skin and large yellow eyes. It is rather small, but its legs are strong and bendy, allowing it to jump in and out of the water with ease. Its hands are white and on the back of its neck are a small collection of white bubbles reminiscent of seafoam.

Serena knows for sure that it is a Froakie. It is much more lively than it could ever be in writing or sketches — it breathes the same air that she does, it lives in the same place she does, and it is made of flesh and blood and bone like she is.

Her gut instinct tells her that the Froakie currently frolicking in the Blue Plaza fountain is one in the same as the one that had escaped a building filled to the brim with scholars. Serena reaches into her satchel and pulls out a slice of pound cake wrapped in old newspaper, something she had bought for her and Augustine but would give to a friend if they really needed it. She breaks off a piece of the sweet treat and holds it out towards the creature in the fountain, ignoring the prying eyes of the Lumiosians around her.

When the Froakie notices her, it is quick to stop hopping about in the water. Its large eyes settle on her with pure intrigue.

“You look like you’ve come a long way, little one,” she greets, giving the adorable creature a smile. “Why don’t you come along with me?”

…

The rest of the day is filled with Serena dashing through Lumiose City like an explorer on an adventure with a Froakie perched upon her shoulder. She tries to think of where a Fennekin and a Chespin could end up in such a place. She searches through a street lined with vendors, wondering if a little hungry creature would try to steal a bite of food from an unsuspecting merchant.

The little Froakie proves its skill when it hops off Serena’s shoulder, urging her to follow as it heads down South Boulevard. In no time the two come across a Fennekin basking under one of the trees in front of Lumiose Station, bits of bitten twigs scattered around it as it sleeps.

Happily, Serena rewards Froakie with a few more bites of cake and gently scoops the napping Fennekin into her arms. The creature proves to be a heavy sleeper and does not protest.

Serena and Froakie look around even more, wondering if the third missing creature will make itself known. But despite all their efforts to find a wandering Chespin in the city of lights, the two are unable to find a single clue. Serena ends up heading back to the marble building of scholars with only a Froakie on her shoulder and a Fennekin in her arms.

When Serena comes back to the second floor library with a broken window, she is greeted by Uncle Gus and a gaggle of his very surprised colleagues. They thank her dearly for her help, one older scholar in particular smiling like a fool and planting a kiss on her cheek. Uncle Gus pulls her into a hug, smiling at the wit and talent of his young ward.

One bespectacled scholar takes the sleeping Fennekin out of her arms and returns it to its large roomy cage. When another scholar comes back to take the Froakie perched on her shoulder, Serena feels the creature suddenly tightening its grip on her. Its tiny hands grasp onto the material of her dress and bonnet, clearly resisting any intention to drag it away from her.

Augustine is quick to notice the phenomenon in front of him. With an honest smile, he places a hand on his ward’s shoulder and looks his colleague in the eye.

“It’s no use, Marceau,” he says. “I believe Froakie won’t be able to help our research after all — this little one has found its match.”

Marceau looks unsure. “But what are we to do then? Find another water creature in the middle of Lumiose?”

“I shall figure it out,” Augustine assures. He looks at his ward with pride, then gently pets the top of Froakie’s head. “It would break many hearts to know I had to separate two friends.”

Marceau can only sigh, but without further questions he nods his head and leaves Augustine and Serena be. When Augustine looks at his ward, he is quick to see the look of confusion in Serena’s eyes.

“Uncle… I’m not sure what you’re implying,” she says. She reaches up and pulls Froakie off her shoulder to hold the creature in her arms, where it is very happy to be. “Do you want me to take care of this little one for a few days?”

“You can if you want. However, I was implying that you take care of it for a lot longer.”

Serena’s eyes widened in surprise.

“That is, if you want to,” Augustine clarifies. “You would be caring for this one under me, my dear — I can help if you need it.”

With a bright grin on her pretty face, Serena looks at the Froakie in her arms with glee, then looks up to meet her beloved Uncle Gus’s gaze with hopeful eyes and a nod of her head.

…

(and my life seems to stop as if something is over and something has scarcely begun)

…

The citizens of the city are caught in a buzz as news regarding King Lysandre V has reached the streets. The beloved leader of the country would be leaving his home in Parfum Palace to spend a week in the city of lights, apparently to learn more about the people he rules over.

Calem believes it to be a load of Skiddo droppings, seeing as that same King lived in luxury as the working-class of Kalos slave for a meger wage, only for said wage to disappear once the tax collectors come around. It is moments like these that make Calem rethink the life he could have had, the one where he would have been so wrapped in a world of opulence that he was blind to the suffering of the people. Sometimes he thinks his family name becoming disgraced is a blessing in disguise.

At the end of a day of delivering gossip-filled letters and fortune-filled packages Calem and Chespin get challenged to a battle in an alleyway. There’s an old Sot from the Jaune Plaza Cafe claiming to have seen Calem in one of the basement battles — the Sot is tall and gaunt, his face tinted light pink after one too many glasses of wine. He approaches Calem with a wobbling gait and a creature that he has never seen before. Its body is pill-like and on its back is a pair of bright pink wings. The Sot calls it a Vivillon and Calem thinks it’s one of the most fascinating creatures he’s ever laid eyes on.

His fascination with a new creature aside, Calem and Chespin accept the challenge and engage in a battle. It becomes quickly evident that some of Chespin’s attacks do not work on the Vivillon. The spikes of green that shoot out of Chespin’s head are nearly worthless against the winged creature. Vivillon releases a shower of sparkling purple powder down onto Chespin, when it graces the bipedal creature’s arm, the poor little one cries out in pain, causing a sudden rush of fear to pulse through Calem’s veins.

The two are forced to find other ways to fight. Chespin proves to have a fighting spirit stronger than a thousand hussars. The creature rolls itself into a ball and bounces off the walls of the alleyway, using its speed to dodge its enemy’s wind and powder attacks. Building momentum, it manages to ram its spinning body directly into Vivillon, sending the two tumbling to the ground with the winged creature taking most of the impact.

With a lively grin on his face, Calem sings the praises of Chespin as the creature rolls back towards its partner and hops onto its feet.

The Sot is left aghast, falling to his knees next to his Vivillon. Calem picks up his Chespin and approaches the drunkard, reaching a hand out to end the battle peacefully. To his surprise, the Sot swats Calem’s hand away. With a look of disgust on his wrinkly face, he throws a handful of coins at Calem and soon leaves the alleyway, picking up his fainted Vivillon as he goes. He bitterly mutters words about challenging Calem to a rematch, vowing to beat him that time, then disappears from sight.

Without a battle to continue, Calem shrugs his shoulders and gathers up the fallen coins. Although battles between creatures is something only done in dark alleyways and basements, a certain kind of etiquette has developed in place — it is expected for the losing person to give the winner some kind of reward, whether it be an extra flagon of frothy ale or a handful of coins or a stomach full of food.

As Calem slips the coins into his pockets, he notices that something is wrong with Chespin. He looks to the little one and cradles it in his arms, asking what may be wrong and checking its every limb for any abnormalities. Soon enough he spots a collection of purple powder sticking to Chespin’s left paw, most definitely a remnant from Vivillon’s attack.

Without hesitation, Calem immediately cancels his plans to meet his friends at the Jaune Plaza Cafe. With Chespin in his arms he rushes directly to his apartment, knowing that time is of the essence if he wants to keep his partner alive.

…

Between the walls of his small apartment, Calem tends to Chespin. The poor thing’s breathing is laboured and uneasy, its energy sapping away as the moments pass. Calem’s books tell him that his partner has been poisoned, so Calem rifles through his collection of berries until he finds the one that can act as an antidote. After feeding his Chespin a handful of pink fruit, the little one starts to feel better. Its breathing evening out as its strength returns. Calem lets his partner sleep on his bed, covering Chespin with a blanket and patting its head with the gentlest touch.

His heart is beating fast as unknown anxiety pulses through him. Even though Chespin appears to be making some semblance of a recovery, Calem cannot help but fear the worst. He ends up opening a cheap bottle of watered-down wine to calm his nerves, something that stings and burns on the way down but manages to keep him sane. To satiate his own hunger he digs into a bag of apples he has on hand — it had been a gift from a happy client he had met on a delivery job, while Calem decided to use it as food for Chespin it ends up becoming his dinner for the night.

The night drags and Calem keeps himself huddled in his own corner of Lumiose. As Chespin rests, the building’s landlord comes up to the apartment to deliver a letter that had arrived earlier that day. Calem sits on a chair by the open window as he reads the latest update from his mother, his hair a disheveled mess and the upper buttons of his collared shirt remaining undone. Her loopy handwriting tells him of a recent interaction from his father — Viscount Trevelyan had sent a letter all the way from Wyndon asking how his son was. Calem is used to sporadic updates from the man who disgraced the Bellamy-Beaufort name, he no longer has the energy to get emotional over them. His interest is piqued when his mother’s message tells him of an invite to travel to Galar, as the Viscount is curious to know if the young man would like to meet his little half-brother — the honourable Victor Trevelyan.

Before Calem can contemplate a theoretical trip up north, he hears a familiar voice calling from the city streets below.

“Calem! Calem! Are you in there?”

He puts down his letter and glances out his window, leaning on the ledge as he looks around. On the cobblestones is a large woolen overcoat with Shauna standing inside, she looks exhausted enough to make him wonder if she had sprinted all the way here.

“Calem! You weren’t at the cafe tonight!” Shauna calls up, ignoring the various Lumiosians walking around her.

“I could not,” Calem explains, looking down at her from three floors up. “Chespin was hurt, did something happen?”

“I shall explain inside!” Shauna declares. “I am coming up now!”

After a few moments Shauna arrives at the apartment, evidently having run up the stairs. She catches her breath and he offers her a seat at the chair at his desk, wondering if he should get her some water or wine. She refuses his attempts at hospitality and once her breathing evens out, she says:

“Calem, I found her.”

“Who?”

“The girl,” Shauna elaborates. She walks to him and gestures wildly with her hands. “The one you asked me to find, the one with the red hat and the black dress that was so divine to have made you fall head over heels with her! That girl, you fool!”

There is a beat of silence between the two friends, then Calem replies dryly, “Well… you certainly make me sound daft when you put it like that.”

“That’s not my point,” Shauna prods. “The point is that I found the girl you ran into. Or at least… I think it’s her.”

Calem eyes her suspiciously. He usually trusts the information Shauna can overhear from her family Inn, but he cannot help but inquire just a little further. “How do you know for sure?”

“There’s no way to truly tell,” Shauna explains. She reaches into the pocket of her ratty overcoat and hands her friend a piece of parchment crumpled and compressed beyond all measure. “I wasn’t able to find her name, but I have this.”

When Calem slowly unravels the paper, he finds a hastily written name of a garden written on the page.

“Autumnal Gardens,” Shauna says. “It’s just north of Rouge Plaza. Rumour has that a girl with golden hair visits on some nights to watch the stars. By day she dons a black dress and a red hat, just like your description, but at night she is said to be clad in white. It’s not much, but if you come there tonight then perhaps you may find out the truth.”

Calem is unsure what to do. For the briefest moment he paces across his apartment, running his hand through his dark hair as he thinks and further rumpling it. He begins to contemplate the logistics of such an act — wondering what it will be at best or at worst. To quell his raging thoughts, he walks over to his desk and searches through the drawers — what he finds tucked away is a simple white handkerchief, the unspotted square of cloth that he kept in his pocket for a week, then finally hid away thinking he would never find the owner again.

“The least I can do is return this to her,” he says as he eyes Shauna.

She gives him a nod as Calem puts on his coat. Once the garment is on, he steps towards his friend and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you.”

Shauna seems more amused than anything else. “It was nothing, really.”

Calem glances to his bed, where his Chespin now sits awake with a curious glow in its beady brown eyes. He walks over and kneels down to the little one.

“Mon amie, want to go on an adventure?”

…

(so many questions and answers that somehow seem wrong)

…

After dinner Serena finds herself in the apartment drawing room. She is dressed down for the evening, free of her stays and clad in the linen fibers of her chemise. On the floor by her bare feet is Froakie, currently napping on the rug without a care in the world. In her left hand is an embroidery hoop and in her right is a needle — with the use of the two she attempts to guide a piece of scarlet thread through the stiff canvas. When she pricks her finger and draws blood for the third time, she lets out an utterly loathsome groan. Frustrated by a piece of thread and canvas, she stands up and goes to the nearest drawer to dispose of the damn thing. She shall deal with needlework tomorrow.

In the moment she slams the drawer shut, Augustine enters from his study. To come out of hours of work to see his ward so fraught has caught him off guard in a rather entertaining way.

With a lively grin on his face, he asks: “What’s gotten into you?”

Serena puts her ring finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding. “Needlework,” she tells him bitterly.

Augustine lets out a laugh. “Nice to see that you have taken to it well.”

Serena seems unconvinced. However, she spares shooting him the glare she’s tempted to give in favour of looking at the open door of his study. “Mind if I take a book?” she asks, quickly slipping in.

Like always, Augustine nods his head. “Of course.”

Inside the walls of the study, Serena moves past the various notes of her Uncle’s research in favour of perusing his collection of books. She has always found that he has good taste in tomes, specifically the ones about old Kalosian legends. She ends up picking one that depicts the tales of Kalos’s past, a saga of a raging war between life and death that could only be quelled by a creature of order.

When she returns to the drawing room with a book under her arm, she finds Augustine rifling through the cushions of the couch, possibly on the look for something.

“What are you doing?” she asks curiously.

“Have you seen my white handkerchief anywhere?” Augustine questions. “I have not been able to find it for weeks.”

Serena can only shake her head. “I will be on the look for it, Uncle.”

With that said, Serena heads to her bedroom and Augustine keeps looking around the apartment. He soon gets to the drawer housing the cause of Serena’s previous ire, promptly fishing up Serena’s less-than-stellar embroidery project. When Serena gets a second look at her dreadful work, she notes that it looks worse than before and sighs like a dour ogre.

On the other hand, her beloved Uncle thinks differently. “Do not fret,” he assures in a voice soft like the sun. “You will get better with practice.”

Serena can only stare at the floor with a bitterness in her eyes. “I do not see why you think I would be good at it.” Her voice is low.

Now Augustine is the one who was unconvinced, yet he still gives her that same cheery smile and says, “Your mother was good at it.”

“Or so you say,” Serena retorts sharply. When her eyes meet his, she is less downtrodden and more… curious, as the mere mention of her mother has a habit of awakening this side of her.

The truth remains that she still does not know much of the woman who brought her into this world. She knows that her name was Grace, she knows that Augustine had befriended her back in their youth, she knows that Grace had been shunned for becoming with child while unwed, she knows that needlepoint was a favoured hobby of hers, and she knows that she loved her to her last breath, having begged Augustine to promise to care for her flesh and blood before she left for another world.

But Serena knows not much else, such as her mother’s favourite colour or how she wears her hair or how she likes her tea. She doesn’t even know who her father might be, only that he spent a summer by Grace’s side but was gone when autumn came.

So standing in front of Augustine now, Serena looks her uncle in the eye and asks:

“Why won’t you tell me anything else about her?”

The scholar looks uneasy as he glances away from her. “Serena, you are too young to know,” he tries. He faces her again, taking a few steps closer. “It will make you sad and pensive, something you should not be.”

“But I know so little about her,” Serena reiterates. “Give me something, Uncle, something more to dream of.”

Hesitence hangs across Augustine’s face. But yet he shakes his head. “Not tonight,” he decides in an affirmative voice. He then presses a kiss to her forehead like he always did at night when she was young. “You should sleep.”

Without another word, he retreats off into his bedroom and shuts the door.

In her loneliness, Serena can only languish for more. Her grip on her book tightens as she mutters, “So many questions… yet not enough answers.”

She considers for a moment staying in her room to submerge her mind in tales from the past, but a look outside at the clear Lumiosian night makes her think otherwise. She ends up walking over to her napping Froakie, gently nudging her partner awake.

“Come,” she says. “I need some air.”

…

(i’m doing everything all wrong)

…

The city is dark as Calem rushes across the cobblestones. He fears nothing with Chespin on his shoulder, yet as he gets closer and closer to Autumnal Avenue, he feels the knot in his stomach growing tighter and tighter. His breathing tightens as he goes more and more north, a fear that he is not used to feeling. In his coat pocket is the handkerchief that he has been holding onto for weeks, his hand grasped around it so firmly that it may permanently warp the garment. With his nerves getting dangerously close to taking control of him, he starts to regret not taking in another goblet of watered down wine as good luck.

Soon enough he arrives at the Avenue. As he walks down the streets, the buildings around him change from shops and offices to homes — some eons more lavish than the ones in his own neighbourhood and some dreadfully uncared for. As Calem wonders if he is lost, he suddenly comes across a large metal gate taller than two men, on the other side of it are the overgrown greens of a lush garden, an oasis of nature amongst the city’s stones.

And in the depths of the flora on this clear Lumiosian night sits a girl with golden hair amongst the daisies and lilies and violets. Her shape is cloaked in a spotless white dress and protecting her from the chill of the night is a large woolen coat that looks a few sizes too big for her.

Shauna’s words prove to be true.

The knot in Calem’s stomach gets bigger.

…

(for it isn’t a dream, not a dream after all)

…

In the garden between buildings are vines that cling to the sides of the apartments and flowers of many colours (Serena fancies the red ones the most). In the center of the flora is a bench made of stone, a place often occupied by the tenants of the connected buildings. But at night it is empty, leaving Serena to enjoy all the space to herself. She sits on the bench with her book in her lap, alternating between reading some of Kalos’s folklore or staring up at the twinkling stars.

There is also a bird bath near the bench, something meant for the Fletchling that visit the garden during the day, but is often used by Serena’s faithful Froakie for a midnight soak. As Serena reads in peace, she can hear the sound of her companion splashing around. She looks up to see Froakie clinging to the rim of the bird bath, happily basking in the water and giving her a smile.

“I guess the water needed changing anyway,” she says, feeling joyful like a fool. She gestures for her beloved partner to come to her and Froakie obeys, hopping off the bath and skittering over. The creature climbs up her nightgown and perches itself on her shoulder, as if to read along with her.

With a grin, she playfully strokes her Froakie’s chin. In her mind she cherishes moments like this, times where she could feel close to someone who knows her for who she is. Not to say that Uncle Gus doesn’t know her at all — he knows as much as any good guardian would. But there’s some kind of unspoken understanding between her and Froakie, an acknowledgement of her unmasked self — a self that dislikes needlepoint and dreams of adventures beyond her own existence.

Sometimes the way Uncle Gus looks at her makes Serena think that he still sees her as the helpless little girl he had met on a winter’s night. Sometimes he tells her that one day she’ll grow up and become a woman, perhaps finding a successful, suitable husband and settling down with a family.

But part of her knows that it’s not her — in her heart all she wants is someone who sees her for who she is, whether it be a friend or a lover. Not even her beloved Uncle seems capable of that.

Suddenly Froakie leaps off Serena’s shoulder. The creature hops across the grass of the garden with startling speed. It takes mere seconds for it to arrive at the gate of the garden, where apparently something is so interesting it warrants startling Serena.

“Froakie!” Serena yells. She closes the book and drops it on the bench, dashing after her partner with haste. “Froakie! Come back!”

When she gets to the gate, she sees Froakie situated at the bottom of the structure, down there it looks through the metal bars to greet another creature. Said creature is small, roughly a foot tall, and has a brown body and face with pointed ears tipped with green. The creature looks rather familiar to Serena, as memories of her Uncle’s research books start to jog in her memory.

Dumbfounded, she says, “It can’t be, is that-”

“Chespin!”

Startled, Serena looks up and sees someone running towards the gate of the garden. His features are illuminated by the lights of the street lamps, proving him to be a sharp set of eyes upon a youthfully charming face and a head of dark hair pushed back and barely combed. Despite the elegance of his features, he looks just about her age and stands just a bit above her. He dons a blue coat with signs of wear over a corduroy vest that has seen better days.

The young man looks at her and he looks just as stunned as she is. The mere look of the awe in his eyes is enough to make Serena remember. There’s just something about the boy behind the gate that looks familiar.

Serena grasps onto the metal bars as if to steady herself in the storm she’s become trapped in, and then he speaks —

“Bonsoir, uh… forgive me, dear Mademoiselle,” he greets, giving a polite — albeit nervous — bow. He then lets out an unsteady laugh, as if to alleviate the situation. Had he a hat on then perhaps he would have tipped it towards her. “I cannot control the little one sometimes.”

“It’s not a problem,” Serena tells him. Her grip on the bar tightens, but she doesn’t know why.

The two then look down to the pair of creatures — Chespin and Froakie appear to be getting along fine. Judging by the little croaks and squeaks the two make at one another, it is fair to say that they are getting along.

“Curious,” Serena says.

The stranger looks up. “What is?”

“They seem to know each other,” she explains, meeting her eyes with his. “Or they just get along well.”

The stranger nods in agreement. “Connections can work like that sometimes.”

Serena’s grip on the bar of the gates loosens, as with every word she can feel her initial fear fading away. “Forgive me, Monsieur, but what is your name?” she decides to ask, feeling somewhat brave in such a moment.

“I am called Calem,” says the stranger. “And you are?”

“Serena.” Subconsciously, she moves just a bit closer to the gap in the gate, her forehead barely an inch away from the iron rods. “You…” she starts, but finds herself stuttering. How unladylike of her. “You… uh, you look rather familiar.”

“I would say the same to you,” Calem says. Suddenly he reaches into the pocket of his coat, digging around for moments before pulling out a white handkerchief. “Perhaps you will recognize this.”

Serena is surprised, but smiles widely. “Uncle’s handkerchief!” she exclaims. “He’s been looking for that for weeks!”

Calem seems caught off guard. “Uncle?”

“I borrowed it for a day,” she explains fervently. “It broke my heart to tell him I had lost it — I’m glad that it managed to turn up somewhere.” Moments pass and her mind finally slows down enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “That means…” she begins, then a look of enlightenment takes her eyes. “You were the boy I saw at Jaune Plaza! That’s where I know you from!”

Calem nods his head, a small simper forming onto his pretty face. “It is good to hear that you remember.” He holds the white handkerchief up and through the gap in the gate. “I suppose you would want this back.”

A rush of hesitance surges through Serena’s every nerve, an abrupt sensation that surprises even her. Coyly, she eyes the handkerchief, then looks up to meet his gaze. She reaches over slowly, taking the cloth in her fingers. Their hands graze when they pull away from each other, something that makes Serena’s skin twinge in a way she cannot quite understand.

“Thank you for returning this,” she eventually manages to say. She looks down at the fabric, feeling the soft material in her palm. “Gentlemen like you are a difficult find nowadays.”

Calem looks amused, then lets out another laugh. “How brave of you to think that I am anything near a gentleman.”

“You are much too modest,” Serena remarks, unconvinced of his words.

After another honest chuckle, Calem absentmindedly places his hand on the bars of the gate. When his fingers graze hers, both Serena and Calem pull away from the cold iron. It is a quick event that is over as soon as it starts and Calem quickly thrusts his tingling hand into his coat pocket. Serena avoids his gaze, her hand touching the gate again but only to slide down to where the metal is forged into a spade-like shape.

“Perhaps I should go,” Calem suggests. His voice is shaky, nervous.

When Serena finally glances up, she is quick to see that he is avoiding her gaze too. A part of her begins to wish that she had not looked away.

He speaks once more, “Have a nice night, Mademoiselle.” With his last word stated, he turns around and begins walking away, the soles of his boots tapping against the street and his loyal Chespin following at his feet.

Serena is quick to call out —

“Wait!”

Calem halts his strides and turns to eye the girl behind the gate.

Serena is uneasy as she speaks, every nervous pang in her body fighting to get the better of her. “You came all this way to return my Uncle’s handkerchief,” she starts, fighting back her own fears. “There has to be something I can do to repay you. Would you perhaps… like to come up for some tea?” she suggests. Then restlessly, she begins to retract her offer very slightly. “If you drink tea, that is.”

Calem’s unease fades into a smile. “I drink tea,” he answers, relieved. He turns around to face her. Even in the dark of night, the look on his face is astronomically bright, something that highlights his angelic face even more. “Something warm does sound heavenly right now.”

Excitement pounds in Serena’s chest as she goes to undo the lock of the gate. Once the barricade has swung open, Chespin runs back to Froakie and embraces the creature into a hug like they are old friends. Serena motions for Calem to follow and trailing behind her, the two young Kalosians escape the cold of the city to head upwards to a beacon of warmth. In her heart Serena thinks not of her future or her life or even any thoughts of her mother — but instead she thinks of the moment she is trapped in now and how curious she is to learn more about the young man by the name of Calem.

#kalosshipping #trainer calem #trainer serena #kalos #serena pokemon #calem pokemon #xy #pkmn xy #in which i write too much and make things looooong

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spookybreadstick · 4 years ago

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Body Types of the Pastas

I will not be including Sally on this list, she is a child!! She has the body of a child, and that’s all you need to know. I will also not be including Slender on this list because we all know what kind of body he has (he’s a skinny legend!!) it’s literally a part of his name. Also, I might add, these are my versions of the characters and their body types do not reflect on the body types of any actors who may have portrayed them. These are just how I imagine them.

TW TW TW: Body Image Issues

Please do not read if you are struggling and believe you will be triggered by mentions of weight and different body types. This is largely positive (in my opinion), but I don’t want to trigger anybody, since there is mentions of negative relationships with food and poor body image. This is not meant to be “body-checking” or harmful for readers. It’s just a little post (I think it may even help some to be kinder with their own bodies and self-image), but just read at your own discretion, I suppose.

IMPORTANT NOTE: We do not body shame on this blog!! This is written entirely with love and appreciation for all bodies!

Also, mild NSFW warning I guess? (Nothing major, just a little, if you can call it that). For future reference, this: 💛 is the emoji that marks anything a lil spicy, but not what I would call true NSFW.

💛🤎💛🤎💛🤎

Skinny Legends (I couldn’t think of an appropriate adjective to go with it lmao)

Bloody Painter

Perfectly Petite

BEN

Lusciously Lean

Toby

Liu

Majestically Mid-Sized

Nina

Puppeteer

Jane

Marvelously Muscular

Clockwork

Jeff

Beautifully Buff

Hoodie

Pleasantly Plus-Sized

Masky

🍬 LJ is just built like that. He’s long, lanky, and skinny. No matter how many sweets he eats, his stomach remains flat. Don’t make fun of him for it (since he was sort of modeled after a doll in Isaac’s mind, LJ sometimes thinks that he’s missing some stuffing and there is something wrong with him because of that).

🎨 Helen is naturally thin, but there’s also other factors to blame. When he was growing up, his parents pushed on him the idea that being ‘skinny’ was everything for a girl (remember, they raised him as a girl until he was a young teen). They also would withhold food as a punishment for any ‘misbehaving’ that they saw. Nowadays, Helen doesn’t have much of an appetite, probably as a result of not eating enough in childhood. Helen will also forget to eat since he is so wrapped up in his art. He doesn’t mind being called skinny, that’s his body type after all, but please don’t point out his eating habits. He’ll get annoyed very easily. A much better way to go about it would be, if you see he’s too busy to eat, fix him a sandwich or something and bring it to him. You have to phrase it carefully, like, “I was hungry and made some sandwiches, so here’s one for you, too. Fuel for the artist, right?” And he’ll be more likely to accept and eat it.

🎮 BEN is, as much as he denies it, petite. He’s short and he has a small frame. There’s a little bit of squish to his tummy (it’s absolutely adorable 🥰) but he hides it (it wasn’t there originally, and it’s an accumulation of him eating all sorts of junk food in his afterlife. It doesn’t really affect him usually, but after he’s been doing it for years...) Please don’t point it out, he tries to forget that it exists and it bothers him.

🪓 Toby is lean cuisine. He’s kind of short for a guy, and that adds to his leanness. He has trouble remembering to eat and has trouble taking proper care of his body, so he is malnourished. He gets insecure about his body, so don’t say anything about it. Toby would love it if somebody cared enough to make sure that he’s eating regularly and getting proper nutrition. He is just a boy in need of some nourishing food and good lovin’! 🥰

🧣 Liu is also lean. Whenever he’s nervous or stressed, he forgets to eat. Whenever he wants to “punish” himself for whatever reason, he withholds food. He’s been doing better with this, but it was a habit he’s had since he was young, so that contributed to his smaller build. He doesn’t mind at all if you say he’s lean (he’d actually take it as quite the compliment). What he needs though, is somebody who cares enough to help him break the negative habits.

💄 Nina’s body type is hard to place, since she’s on the slim side but also not quite lean? She’s honestly really in between the lean and mid-size categories. Nina’s had some body image issues in the past, but she tries hard to keep it wholesome and positive with her self image though. She’s really got a great figure though! She’s got a small waist, probably about B-cup breasts, nice hips, and a nearly flat stomach (but not quite! She has that lil pooch thing that’s supposed to be where your uterus is?) Nina’s so pretty, honestly 😍

🧵 Puppeteer’s body type is the epitome of “average.” It’s smack dab in the middle of body types. There’s nothing particular special about it, and he’s on the slimmer side but not skinny skinny. He’s got depth and he’s also the taller side.

🖤 Jane’s got an amazing figure! She goes through periods of time where she’s a bit insecure but she’s got no reason to be! She looks great! She’s curvy (doesn’t have a flat tummy!) and it looks amazing on her. She’s got a killer ass (we love a thicc queen) and her breasts are def C cup (maybe even D cup). Jane’s got those curves in all the right places, and she looks like a goth Aphrodite when she’s in her element 🤩

⏰ Clockwork is a baddie! She has a toned stomach and not much of a chest, to be honest. She is quite muscular-looking for a girl, and she’s proud of that. And, it looks great on her!

🔪 Jeff is pretty muscular. He’s got that height going for him, and he enjoys a good workout so there’s some good muscles as well. He has a toned stomach and a bit of visible biceps when he flexes. This body type is something he had to work for though, his natural body type is a slim mid-size.

❓Hoodie is a buff king! He’s tall as well, with a toned stomach and abs. His natural body type is actually just slightly muscular, but he built himself up to be B U F F.

🤍 EJ is a big, buff boi. Before the transformation, he was actually lean. But now? He’s part demon, of course he’s going to be large and strong. He has abs now, and visible muscles hiding underneath his clothes. He has a habit of shrinking into himself though. He’s never liked his body much, and he’s insecure in his new form. Help him see that he is handsome and great just the way he is!

🎭 Masky is, admittedly, a bit chunky. He’s hella strong though, and could def beat your ass easily in any kind of competition. He gets very defensive if anyone brings it up in a negative light, or when there’s lots of people around, due to the fact that he was very insecure as a teen. If it’s brought up when it’s a one-on-one convo or if it’s gently mentioned, he’ll probably say “yeah, I’ve got kind of a dad bod thing going on, I guess,” and try to quickly change the subject. Poor boy eats when he’s stressed and then is guilty about it afterwards. He needs somebody to tell him that his body is beautiful, and then help him take care of it. He could use some love, and some reassurance of his beauty (chubby boys are so cute and wonderful and just 🥵). Please be gentle with his heart and help him raise his self-esteem <3

I thought of the song S.L.U.T. by Bea Miller when I wrote this. You should listen to it, it’s good for self-esteem!! :)

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 4 years ago

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The Girl Who Radiated The Sun - Part 1 | Sugawara Koushi/Reader

Characters: Sugawara Koushi, Reader (Sunshine), mentioned: Azumane Asahi, Shimizu Kiyoko, Sawamura Daichi. Original Characters: Previous!Reader(Moonlight), Kado, Joji, Etsu

Pairings: Sugawara Koushi/Reader

Warnings: jealousy, drinking (Suga, Reader, and Moonlight are all 22-23), implied/referenced depression

Word Count: 4165

Summary: Working at a café had been your dream come true, so was meeting Sugawara Koushi. Things were so perfect that you didn't notice the tides shifting until it was too late, and the moon had already piqued her way over the horizon.

A/N: This took me far too long to finish, and I am so sorry for that for those of you who have been waiting for this. If you haven't read this series before, then check out the other two parts for Moonlight and the start of her story, as well as Angel too. A big thank you to @pies-writes-and-more and @satan-ruler-of-hells for keeping my head in place while I wrote this. I could not have done this without you my loves.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

--------

People have always intrigued you; their stories and the worlds around them that you’d get to glimpse into if you really paid attention (and you paid attention). There wasn’t anything more exciting to you.

That was why you loved your job at a café, you could observe the people around you with such ease. Some you only got to see for that day, some maybe a few more, but others would come weekly - maybe more. You had a few favourite characters in this little story.

The first was a tall, skinny man with brown hair. He always wore a suit and adored a black coffee every day - to go, obviously. Most of the time he was on the phone, grumbling to some poor human about a task they failed to complete, but the few times he wasn’t were more intriguing. He had a very calm air about him then. Very charming (especially when he tried to flirt with you, to no avail). He always tipped 200 Yen, telling you to treat yourself to something nice - you always wanted to pour his coffee over the expensive suit.

Next was the tired mother and her daughter. Every Friday, 3:35 on the dot, that’s when they showed up. The daughter would squish her cheeks together and gasp at the array of cakes before picking a cheesecake. The mother would smile almost sadly before getting herself whichever tea you’d recommend that day - normally a green tea, but you’d change things up sometimes. They were always a relieving sight. You knew the mother was single, listening as the daughter bragged about what she’d be doing with her dad this weekend. You watched the twinkle in her eye dwindle at the mention of her father, but the mother smiled through it all and smiled so sweetly. Such a brave woman.

And finally, one woman who had held your intrigue for the entire two years she’d been coming. Every single Saturday she’d enter, always ordering a tea and daifuku with anko filling. For the first year, she seemed so hopeful as she nervously rubbed her hands together; the few times you’d actually talked to her, she told you about her boyfriend, how she was waiting for him to call. And for a while, he did. Then slowly, she stopped getting that call.

She only ever missed one week - when you asked her about it the next week, tears pricked in her eyes and she broke down. You took her into the back quickly, ushering away the peering eyes of your co-workers so she could feel secure. You learnt her name, but you’d come to call her Moonlight (something about her just reminded you of the moon), and in turn, she’d call you Sunshine (because something about you reminded her of the sun).

You never talked outside of the café, but she seemed to open up just a little more with each passing week, discovering new things about her that you hadn’t expected. Things that exceeded your expectations. Only once did she show up with three small children in tow (Kado, Joji, and Etsu), and it was absolute hell - but the best day you’d ever worked.

Kado and Joji were truly little demons, just turned 5 and already forces to be reckoned with. Etsu was about to be 3, a beauty already. Despite being their sister, Moonlight acted more like a mother. It was almost sad to see.

Moonlight was somehow so open and yet so closed off at the same time; every inch closer you’d step towards her, she was pushing back. Always at arms reach. You could try and slip past her barriers (if you could figure out which ones actually led to her).

One week, you awaited her arrival with bated breath; something in the air today had you more nervous than usual and you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. You’d just gotten back off of your break when she arrived, smiling so beautifully. “Same as usual?” You chirped, already writing down her typical.

“For me, yes,” she chimed. Something about her was glowing more today - subconsciously, your brows twitched upwards, trying to figure it out what she meant. Your confusion seemed to click with her because she elaborated, “oh, I brought someone with me again. He’s just… I don’t know what he’s doing.”

Almost as if on command, the door to the café opened and in walked a man, a cheeky smile plastered on his lips. Something about him made it impossible for you to not look at him; then his eyes landed on her and you knew you never stood a chance. “What’re you ordering, bitch face?” He asked, snorting as she rolled her eyes.

“Make your own decision, Suga tits.” There’s a chemistry between them that you can’t quite figure out; enough space between them to leave it up to the imagination. Either old friends or lovers, now was the task of figuring out which it was? She glanced down at her phone, brows furrowing - he must have seen in the corner of his eyes because he immediately looked worried.

After he figured out his order, they sat down at a table and kept up their light chatter.

You hadn’t expected her to move on so quickly since whatever heartbreak she’d faced just over a year ago, but you were happy for her. With this boy - Suga, you guessed - she was able to open up and smile so freely. There was nothing forcing it.

You were happy for her, you told yourself.

----

The next week, Moonlight returned by herself, holding her hands in front of her and smiling ever so sweetly. “Hey.” You smiled so brightly, and she returned the gesture (you noted the emptiness in her eyes now that Suga wasn’t here). “Your usual?” You asked, and she nodded. “So, where’s that boy you were with?” You hummed, looking up at her.

“Oh, Suga?” She asked, and you could only nod because you didn’t really know who he was. “He’s got some work to do today; tough life being a university student, I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t know.” You laugh. There’s a questioning look in her eyes, but she slowly manages to piece things together and nods.

“Same. I only know what I know because of Suga and-” there’s a moment of hesitation and her expression falls to a sadness you recognise. You know exactly who she is thinking about in that moment and are quick to distract her.

“So is Suga, like, your boyfriend…?” That works and she looks up at you cackling with laughter, her head tossed back as she clutches her stomach. Her laughter is infectious in the nicest way and you giggle with her.

“God, no!” She calls out, brushing away tears that had formed in the corner of her eyes. A mixture of disgust on her face answers your first question, but it raises so many more in its place. Like a ‘one door closes and twelve more open’ sort of situation. Before you had a chance to ask, she had a chance to explain, “he’s just, I guess, my best friend.”

You nodded slowly and she glanced up at you as you mused, “I see.”

The smirk that tugged at her lips spoke a thousand words. “Why? Do you think he’s cute?” She asked, resting her head on her hand. The warmth that spread to your cheeks was a tell tale sign, but you denied it anyway. She only laughed and brushed you off.

You hoped that that would be the end of that conversation. That you wouldn’t have to face up to these feelings any time soon (because they weren’t really feelings). Of course, Moonlight had other plans.

You were cleaning off the table she’d sat at after she left when you noticed a piece of paper on it. All you could think was oh no.

Carefully, you unfolded the paper, and you were greeted with a little message - obviously from Moonlight. It read:

So, ya like Suga? Perfect, because he told me he thinks you’re cute.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Go get ‘em :D

You hid the squeal of excitement at the words on the paper, but your co-workers would be sure to question why it was suddenly like you were floating for the rest of the day.

----

Had there ever been someone more perfect than Sugawara Koushi? No!

That was what you thought, of course, because Sugawara Koushi was an angel disguised as a devil. Sure, he liked to play little tricks and tease, and sometimes he could get a little too aggressive with his ways of love. But underneath all that was a soft interior that made your heart melt.

Every interaction with him left you on a high - which meant you were like this on, basically, a daily basis. Who knew that just a few months of dating and a month of officially being together could make your world so full of life of joy.

And the best part? He felt the exact same way.

You’d be sure to thank Moonlight for this opportunity to be with him until the day that you’d die. Without her, you never would have gotten this far; you would have passed up the greatest opportunity for love that you’d known. And for what? You didn’t even know.

“You know, I think you’re pretty cool.” You hummed one afternoon, curled up next to him on his couch, the film you’d been watching not long ago forgotten so you could trace the shapes on his face. Something so soft in his features as he looked at you. God, you just wanted to kiss him, and hold him, so much for so long.

“I think I’m pretty cool, too.” He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You only laughed and pushed yourself away from him - a small defiance - but he was quick to grab your wrist and pull you back.

“I guess you’re okay, too.” He planted a soft kiss on your forehead and you rolled your eyes.

That was the thing about Sugawara Koushi: his heart was so open and warm to the world around him. To the people who he held near and dear to him. You just happened to be lucky enough to be one of those people.

“I’m more than okay and you know it.” You said, resting your head against his chest and listening to his even heart rate pick up ever so slightly.

You wouldn’t call it love, not yet, not when it’s still so early into it. But you do know that you both care for each other so deeply, more than anyone will ever care about you, and more than anyone will ever care about him.

For a little while, it feels like the whole world only revolves around the two of you.

So much that you can’t see something rising over the horizon.

----

Of course, good things always seemed to get interrupted for you.

Sugawara was your world, but that was the thing about worlds, they’d normally bring along a little something else with them that you might not notice until it’s too late.

For you, that something would be the very thing that brought you together. Moonlight was great - you knew that - and she had no intentions of ever dating Sugawara - or trying to steal him from you. But when they interacted, you couldn’t help but feel inferior. Like you were the third wheel in their world. Like they had a bond that you could never be a part of.

“Are you sure nothing ever happened between you and her?” You’d tease, trying to keep the air lighthearted as he looked at her with a content sigh - his expression switched to that of disgust, and you knew your fears were unwarranted.

Honestly, you don’t really know what you were expecting, you knew they were close when you started dating him. Yet you couldn’t stop the sickening feeling of jealousy twisting your stomach, making your skin crawl. Those feelings only got worse when they’d laugh together about something that happened so many years ago. Moonlight was snorting, clutching her stomach like her life depended on it.

It only made it harder when she depended on him. You knew why - she just simply didn’t have anyone else other than Suga - and you didn’t mind, not at first, not until he’d answer her calls in the middle of your date and leave you wishing you’d never texted him that evening after Moonlight had given you his number. Wishing you’d never met him. Wishing it was just as easy as giving up.

And the more you looked at her, the more you knew you could never compare. Though she looks slightly older for her age, slightly more tired, the beauty she radiates is far more than you have. Her laugh is so contagious; humour perfectly matching his in every way that yours can’t.

You speculated that it was because they’d been together so long - that thought would be correct - but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to be close to him. You wanted what they had. How were you meant to do that?

And so what if you end up reading more into their relationship than you should, a little jealousy is healthy, right? Watching the way they interact and wishing it was you is normal, right? Begging that she’d find someone more captivating and leave him alone for good isn’t a horrible idea, right? That you’d finally get to have some time with him and not feel alone. God, that would be nice.

You resist the urge to cry as she leans into him while they exchange their laughter; Suga glances at you and you offer him a smile. Sure, it was nice they’d invite you on their weekly excursions (you’d pretend that the fact you got a bi-weekly date didn’t affect you), but you were like an awkward piece to the puzzle. You fit, but something was missing.

Or maybe you didn’t fit as much as you thought you did.

----

So maybe you invited her to a night out, just the two of you.

And maybe you started drinking just a little more than you normally would because you were nervous.

And maybe you ended up getting into an argument with her that went something along the lines of you telling her that you hate her because she is always with Suga. And her telling you… something?

Once again, these were all just maybe’s, you couldn’t remember what happened last night at all. Not with the pounding in your head. You felt light and heavy at the same time, and the water Suga kept offering you wasn’t doing you any good.

He ran his hands through your hair and looked down at you sadly as you mumbled into your pillow.

You really wish you could remember what you’d said last night (at least, not exactly). The only thing you can visibly remember was the sickening look of sorrow in her eyes. A look you recognised from some time after she’d ended things with her ex; had your words really hurt her that much? You doubted it, she was probably just putting on some sort of act to try and make you feel bad. You couldn’t feel bad.

Maybe you should have felt bad because Suga kept looking at his phone with worried eyes. Normally, she would have been messaging him so much, checking up on you and making sure that you hadn’t died in the night. Today: nothing.

You wanted to tell him that she’d message soon, but you weren’t sure. “How are you feeling?” He asks, putting his phone to one side and gently cupping your cheek.

“Like shit.” You mumble, nuzzling closer into his warmth, tossing an arm over his body. Suga lets out a soft chuckle as you smile. “How’s Moonlight?” You ask, but it’s half-hearted and you don’t know why.

“I’m sure she’s fine.” He assures you, but there’s hesitation in his voice and it makes your stomach sink. “Did something happen last night?” You can feel his eyes on you, trying to work out why she wasn’t checking up on you. If only you remembered.

“I don’t know.” You admit even though you are aware of something happening. “I can’t really remember anything.” You say. His face shifts, but he looks away before you can fully understand the expression. God, if only there were an easy answer for everything.

That night you manage to distract him from his sadness with snacks and a movie.

If only snacks and a movie could fix everything.

----

It isn’t until he comes home late from work a week later, crying and completely drenched head to toe that you understand something is not right. Something more not right than what you thought.

He tries to avoid your hugs, but gives in and eventually melts into you. He grips the back of your shirt tightly, like he’d fall apart if he let go. Like he’d fall apart if you let him go.

You choose not to care about the fact his tears are soaking through your shirt, or that he’s created a wet spot on the carpet from his drenched clothes, or the light pain as he holds you closer. Right now, he needs you.

It takes some time, but you manage to get it out of him; he’d gone to visit Moonlight after he’d finished work to try and see what was up with her (because she’d stopped calling and messaging him entirely). Apparently, she hadn’t even let him in the door, refused to talk to him about the problem - because you were the problem - and told him to leave her alone.

Even as he tried to get her to open up and talk about it she just refused. Of course, the conversation lasted longer than he thought, but only because Kado and Joji had forced the man inside. Moonlight tried to tell them no, but they weren’t listening to a thing she said (though that wasn’t exactly a new situation).

You tried not to think about how this was most definitely your fault. The fact that his current problems were because of you.

God, you should have just sucked it up, dealt with it. She made him happy - but not as happy as you - she hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet… you were jealous. Why?

Thinking about it made your head hurt, so you focused on rubbing slow circles on his back, humming a soft tune to try and distract both of you from the thoughts that wracked your brain. Maybe it all hurt more because Suga had always been so much stronger than anyone you’d known, and yet, here he was, broken in your arms.

You helped him strip off his clothes, saying, “you wouldn’t want to catch a cold, would you?” And he agreed, letting you whisk him upstairs, running him a bath. His eyes were dull as he looked to the side, barely keeping up any conversation with you.

It hurt. More than you ever thought it would.

----

You really regretted ever thinking that things would be better if Moonlight wasn’t here. If she’d left your life.

The moment she’d left, she seemed to take a part of Suga with her; sure, he was still Suga, he’d tease and and make fun, and you’d end up in laughing fits, but there was something missing in how he works.

You’d watch his eyes light up when his phone buzzed, only to die immediately.

You winced inside with each night that he’d ask you if you’d heard something, anything, because he was worried.

It was like something inside of Suga was programmed to protect Moonlight, but he would never tell you why. Like it was some sort of trade secret between the two of them. Another thing you’d never get a chance to be a part of.

Things became just a little harder after she’d stopped visiting the café. It was abrupt. After almost four years of knowing each other, it was over. She’d taken herself out of your life as well as Suga’s. Did you even have any right to be upset with her?

No.

Every time you watched him jump at the sound of the door, you knew it was your fault, because the disappointment that would follow was more than enough to break your heart a thousand times over. Maybe even more. Definitely more.

You wished you could make this pain go away, you just didn't know how to. If Moonlight was in the picture, then it might end up destroying your relationship with Suga; but if she wasn’t in the picture, then Suga was… well, he was depressed.

He’d smile at you weakly from his end of the couch before he looked away, eyes void of emotion.

You ran your hands through your hair, sighing to yourself as you poured the coffee for a customer, feigning a smile.

----

You wished things weren’t like this.

You wished feelings weren’t messy.

You wished that you knew how to make things better.

Even when Suga told you he’d be okay, you couldn’t help but not believe him.

You bit back the tears in front of him, gave him the sweet kisses that he needed at the moment; when you were alone, it was a different story. You could only feel guilt.

God, you felt stupid. Time didn’t make things better, they made things so much more worse. A few months had passed since your maybe-argument with Moonlight and nothing had changed (though Suga did cling to you considerably more now).

When you were at work one weekend, Suga had found an old box of memories from his high school years. You returned just in time, catching him holding onto an old picture of the third years from his volleyball club.

“What’s that?” You called out from the door frame. He looked up at you, a little surprised, but his face softened and he motioned for you to join him. You did, not even hesitating.

“I found this box,” you glanced around as he explained, humming a little at the small memories that were spread across the floor, “and this is a picture from our last year in high school.” He passed you the picture.

There were two faces you didn’t recognise (another face you knew to be Azumane Asahi. You’d only met him once or twice, but he was very nice - though rather timid).

One belonged to a girl with black hair and glasses, a small smile on her lips, but her eyes were shining with such joy in this moment.

The other face was a boy. He had short brown hair and the most charming smile you’d ever seen. Stood just a little in front of this boy was Moonlight, looking barely younger than she did now, but her eyes were glowing with so much happiness. Next to her was Suga, so relaxed and awash with content that it was almost strange.

“Is that Moonlight?” You asked, checking your facts.

“Yep,” Suga nodded, looking at her with a sigh.

“I didn’t know she was part of the volleyball team…” you hummed, resting your head on his shoulder.

You can’t see his face, but his tone of voice is enough to tell you what you need to know. “She wasn’t.” A question lingers on the tip of your tongue; you don’t need to ask it, he’s already explaining, “she, um…” he pointed to the boy with the short brown hair. “This is Sawamura Daichi, he was… her boyfriend.”

“Oh…” you were smart enough to fill in some gaps, but Moonlight had never told you what had actually happened between them.

“You know,” Suga sniffed, starting to pack away the things back into the box, “I know things get hard sometimes. And that I’m really close to Moonlight, but I hope you know you never had anything to worry about. I knew that girl for almost six years. I’ve seen her at her worst, never at her best though.” You nod, not really sure how to respond. “Before I met you, we were the only people who really understood each other; I’m in love with you, though.”

You feel your heart warm at the sound of that; yet something in his eyes kept you from feeling so elated.

“You’re my everything, but…” he paused. Of all places to pause, he paused there. And why?

You knew why.

Like how every world needed a sun, Suga needed you. You provided him warmth; helped him to thrive; you brought light into his life that he could never describe. But worlds need more than just a sun to thrive. Worlds need moons to hold back the tides; to light up the darkness; to reflect your love further and deeper.

And right now, your world needed his moon.

--------

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loz-and-lu-fan-blog · 4 years ago

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Raising a Kokiri part 1

The Kokiri forest was a textbook definition of a fairy haven. The magic that ran drifted through the air relaxing the boy, the smell of the deep wooded pines always brought a sense of inner peace. It was a place where not only any fairy could relax but flourish.

Yet it did nothing for Navi’s pain.

Any fairy would be calm and relaxed in the forest, naturally reverting to their smaller form only standing about 4 inches tall, yet Navi wasn’t afforded this luxury. She was still standing over 8 feet tall, even though her wings had grown with her they couldn’t support her body for more than a few minutes.

‘Why must I be curse like this?’ Navi thought bitterly as she sat on a tree stump, watching the other fairies play with their kokiris, trying to numb the slight pain she self. Navi knew exactly why she was stuck in this form, it was the reason she was in pain.

Her kokiri, Link.

Even at the thought of his name she could stop the flare of pain in her chest, or the tears falling down her face. She should have never allowed the Great Deku tree to give Link his quest, if he had needed the horrible man to be killed she should have done it. He shouldn’t have restricted her to her smaller form so she couldn’t protect her baby; she shouldn’t have had to watch her little boy forcibly grow up and see so much pain. Her baby boy shouldn’t have had to travel through time to strike down the demon king. The only thing she was grateful for was the princess sending both of them back in time. She just wanted to protect him so much, that when the forest finally called her back to free her of her small form she took it, she could finally protect her child. And when she got back to bring him home...he wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there!

Navi tore up their home, searching through every corner of Hyrule, even going as far as to hurt Ganondorf for the location of her son. But it was all dead ends. She couldn’t feel her bond with her kokiri, and it tore her heart.

Navi had to stay in the Kokiri forest sense, then, trying to keep the pain from being away from her Kokiri down. Even Mido and Meosa came up to try and comfort the lone fairy, hah it seems that hell had froze over. Some Fairies had offered to allow Navi to take care of their Kokiri but Navi could bring herself to take a role from another mother; for now she was committed to being the guardian of the forest, making sure nothing would take a Kokiri from their fairy.

Which brings us to the problem? The portal.

It was made of golden magic, opening at the edge of the Kokiri forest. New smells of different woods made it clear their once safe woods were not so safe anymore, even the growing deku sprout wouldn’t protect the forest.

Navi was the one who argued for guard duty, while others protested she stood firm. She was stuck in this form anyway, might as well put it to use.

So she stood at the edge of the portals, in between two woods and realms.

And she waited.

----

Warrior was beginning to think that Hyila hated him, or maybe she just hated the Links in general. It seemed like every two steps the Links were attacked by these monsters with black blood. To add to the bullshit that was their life they had switched worlds in the middle of the day, and they just so happen to appear in the middle of an enemy camp. Which lead to the links being surrounded by enemies that they had to fight their way out.

Warrior was starting to understand why Time and Legend hated Hyila so much.

They finally killed all the monsters, leaving the heroes tired and bloody. Time decided that after their fight that it was the perfect time for setting down for the night.

Wild started cooking while Time and Twilight secured the perimeter away from monsters, the other Link finally taking a break from all their fighting. It seems like the goddess was giving them a break.

Dinner was great, Wild knew how to make amazing food, and Sky was assigned to their night watch while the second shift was awarded to War.

Soon the sky went from the twilight to the darkness of night, and all the links drifted to sleep. However soon Sky, the hero on watch found himself drifting into dreamland.

What they didn’t realize was that nine Links would soon become ten.

Young Link, ugh what a horrible name he was given, he preferred what his big brother had named him, Mask. He offered to help his older brother with his monster problem, however this led to where he is now.

He was alone, it was dark out, he was cold, and he was in pain. He missed his big brother, he always helped him. He missed Navi.

Mask couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he thought of his fairy, his mother. He didn't know why she had left him, he always thought fairies were supposed to care for their kokiris, did she not want him anymore? His saving grace in Termina had been Tatl, she wasn’t Navi, but she help the little boy not feel so alone. However now he was stuck in another hyrule, with no big brother and no fairy.

He was tired of being alone, tired of waking up in places he didn’t remember, tired of being so cold.

Mask soon realized he had stumbled along a camp, he pulled out his sword realizing where he wandered into possible danger. However, taking a look around he realized that everyone was asleep, which was a poor decision on their part. Mask put his sword away, looking around camp for stuff these soldiers wouldn’t miss; maybe Mask would finally find some food that didn’t taste like ash.

The young child rumbled through their bags, surprising most slept like the dead. One of them has some fairy magic to him, which if he knew the person he would probably be glued to the man's side, the fairy magic could lessen the pain he was feeling. Surprisingly this man had fae food which likely meant that this man was a fae in some form.

Mask was originally going to leave after his tiny food raiding, however a bright blue caught the boy’s attention. His curiosity got the best of him as he slowly got closer, could it really be his big brother. Finally getting closer he could see the man’s face.

It was his big brother, Link, or as Mask liked to call him War.

Mask felt some of his anxiety flow away after seeing War. Maybe it was his separation anxiety, or even the pain and cold from being separated from Navi. Mask just grabbed the end of War’s scarf, curling himself in it and lying down on War much like a toddler would. His warmth wasn’t like Naiv’s fur but it would help keep out the cold.

Mask soon drifted off to sleep, surrounded by warmth and close to his big brother.

-----

Navi felt something, something that lessened the pain in her chest. She didn’t know what was outside the portal, but it lessened the pain in her chest.

Could it be her Kokiri? Could it be the person who stole her Kokiri away from her?

It took a lot of convincing on Navi’s part but she finally got the other fairies to agree to let her explore; which meant someone else needed to take over guard duty.

That didn’t matter to Navi, she would explore this strange new world, and figure out why it lessened her pain.

So she went off into the unknown.

-----

The sun was starting to peek through the clouds by the time Wild got up, he was always the ‘first’ one up although he would bet all his rupees the old man was awake, just acting like he’s asleep so he didn’t have to cook.

Speaking of cooking he needs to get up, make sure none of the links were hiding and injuries then start cooking breakfast. He went around to every link, making sure he couldn’t see any blood or signs of bandages; but he stopped at Warrior.

Did War always have a child with him? Where did the child even come from? Was it another Link?

Wild decided he shouldn’t even bother with it and went about making breakfast.

Slowly the Links began to wake up one by one most concern on getting some food. However Hyrule let out a yell when he realized some of his food was missing.

War soon found himself returning to the land of the living and he realized two things, one, it was daylight out and two, there was a weight on his chest. Warrior found the latter much more concerning and tried to get up, seeing that he was pinned under the weight he just opted to look up. He was greeted to blond hair, green clothes all wrapped up in his blue scarf.

“Mask?!?” War screamed out waking up every other link that was asleep, apparently the little child could sleep like the dead. Warrior finally realized who it was, brought his arms around the young boy to bring himself up into a sitting position. Mask seemed to grumble out at the sudden shift but was trying to stay asleep.

“Come on little buddy” Warrior whispered to the little hero, shaking him slightly.

“Nooooo” the little boy whined out as he tried to stop the sun from waking him up.

Sky observed wondering who that little child was, many of the other Links were watched in cursorily.

“Sooo War, is he yours?” Legend said very bluntly which caused their elder hero choking on his spit. Warrior just sent a glare to the pinked haired hero.

“No he isn’t mine” War said as he watched Mask slowly wake up “although he might as well be sense I’m the only one who puts up with grelimin nature”

“....i...hate you” Mask muttered out to War after hearing himself referred to him as a gremlin.

“Come on, it's time for breakfast” Warrior said as he untangled the little boy from his scarf. Mask seemed to just rub his eyes as his feet hit the ground, then he looked up to realize there were 8 people he had stolen from. Mask just turned to give War a certain look.

“No, they are safe, you can’t stab them” War just simply stated, as Mask nodded in understanding. The Links just looked at War in shock.

“Like I said, he was a gremlin,” War said with a shrug. They all move around the campfire to eat, Time keeping an eye on their newest little member. War was doing the same, but only because he noticed how skinny the boy was.

Wild cooked the soup that Wind loved so much, and they all began to chow down. Time side eyed the tiny hero of his past, he saw how Mask would take a spoonful of the soup with a smile but as soon as eyes were off of him, he would turn around and spit out the soup. Time grimaced at the memory, when he was that young everything tasted like ash so he knew this was a common occurrence. Time figured that he had been the only one who saw that.

“So Mask I thought Lana was going to send you back to your time?” War brought up soon after Mask had ‘eaten’ most of his food.

“Dark link got in the way...Lana said he took something important so she can’t help the timelines merging again” Mask answered “Lana also said hi”

War smiles at the fact Lank asked Mask to tell War she said hi, however that smile was quickly drowned out with worry. Dark link was back, did that mean Cia was back as well. What does that mean now? Will he and the group need to stay in his hyrule trying to get back whatever dark link stole?

“What should we do after this captain?” Time asked snapping the hero out of his anxiety brain.

“We should probably head to the castle, my zelda might know a way to contact Lana” War stated as the Links nodded and went back to their soup. This will be simple, go to the castle, find the Dark links and get the piece back. And now he has all the other links to help him out so it should be easy right….right?

They had all gone to gather their things for their journal, Mask had no idea how far they would get sense this place was crawling with monsters. He had gone to pick through some of his belongs out in the forest, he didn’t need any of them getting noisy, especially the man with the Deity markings.

“Where is it?” Mask grumbled to himself as he dug through his bag, his stomach growling at him. He knew he had fae food in here, he stole it from the brown hair guy who smelled like a fairy. And he needed to eat something, he couldn’t fight unless he had something to eat.

“Looking for these?” A voice said making Mask jump before turning to glare at the voice. It was the man with the deity markings, likely named Link like the others; he held the bag he stole from the fairy link, it was filled with sylvanberriers which honestly to most just likely looked like pink apples. The man held one in his hand, causally tossing it up and down.

“Give it back, their mine” Mask hissed out to the older hero, who just looked amused at him.

“Really, isn’t there a warning about children eating fae food? And nothing tops fae food like sylvanberries” The man said taking a bite out of the fruit much to Mask’s horror. The man simply gave a shrug as he tossed the bag to the child.

“Yeah now I was alot like you as a child, Only fae food until I learned how to taste again” The man commented which made Mask freeze. Eating human food again and it not taste like ash? Was that even possible? The man let out a chuckled as he tosses another fruit to the young boy. Mask caught it without much problem.

“An apple?” He muttered out.

“Yep, you will have to trick your taste buds for a while, if you eat fae food with normal human food it will start to lose the ash taste” The man said with a shrug “Or don’t and go on with your life; i don’t know it was so long ago”

The man slowly walked back to camp and Mask made a mental note to ask his big brother what that man’s nickname was; if mask had to take a guess he feels that ‘happy’ and ‘salesmans’ fits the man more. He looked back and the two fruits in his hand, before deciding to take a risk. One quick bite of an apple before a bite of sylbanberry, to which he chewed waiting for the taste of ash to fill his mouth.

But that didn’t happen..well it was still there very far off in the background, he mostly tasted the berries that reminded him of home. Despite how much Mask wanted to save the moment he began to swallow most of the other fae food, they needed to get moving after all and Mask had questions that needed to be answered.

Mask quickly finished his food before heading back to the other Links. The first thing Mask did was ask everyone’s nickname. Apparently the man with the Deity markings was called Time and the weird fairy man was called Hyrule. The two closest to his age were Wind and Four, but that’s really all he paid attention to.

They walked along in the forest, heading towards the direction of the castle; the links had opted for the forest because it just wasn’t as open as hyrule fields. However both Mask and Time knew better then to assume the forest was safe, they knew the feelings of eyes on the. However Mask felt that might had been wishful thinking because he was missing Navi, so he opted to distract himself.

And the best way he found to distract himself was stealing.

He got about 10 minutes in before he got called out.

“Hey!” Warrior yelled, making the group jump “Give that back” he ordered.

Mask immediately put on his innocent acts as all the links turn to look at War. Some looked at War like he lost his marbles.

“Sorry Mask here has some sticky fingers” Warrior saids to the group, most replied with raised eyebrows.

“War, I’m sure it was nothing,” Legend said, not liking how the peace and quiet ended. You could tell the veteran hero was annoyed. War just stared at him dead eyed.

“Hey Legend where is your wallet?” Warrior asked the pink haired hero.

“Of course it’s right her-” Legend said as his hand went to his pocket, however the words died down when he realized it was gone. War gave Mask a small bump to which Mask opened his palm revealing the wallet.

“Sorry” Mask said as Legend snatched his wallet back.

They went back to walking in the woods, Mask talking with Warriors while Legend did his best to avoid the young pickpocket. The tension growed but Mask and Time were used to it.

It was nice….until it wasn’t.

#loz kokiris #kokiri au #kokiri time #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe au #linkeduniverse au #hero of time #hero of mask #hero of wind #all the heroes #loz navi #angst #kokiri #loz kokiri time

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, kevaaronday!

For @kevaaronday. I tried to use all the tropes you liked, though I played a bit with the coffee shop!AU request. It ended up being pretty long, but I hope it pleases. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

Read On AO3

*****

Food, Drinks, and Pings

Stiles just wanted to clear things up—he did not work for Hale Corp, and he certainly did not work for said company’s inhouse café, The Family Bean. He was a writer, who just so happened to have been roped into the gig because he was best friends with the soulmate-fiancée of the best friend of one of the sons of the company’s owners.

See, one of Stiles’ best friends from high school was Erica Reyes, blonde, vivacious, and both crazy and powerful enough to castrate someone with her fingernails. She might look like she just stepped off the catwalk, with her hourglass figure, fluffy hair, and red lips, but she had a knack for business that led to a scholarship at a reputable business school. Stiles, on the other hand, took to writing like a duck to water, thanks to his overactive imagination and ability to turn a phrase. He could write anything and so he did—news pieces, articles, blogs, reviews, as well as a modestly famous soulmate series published under a pseudonym.

Erica’s soon-to-be husband and soulmate was Vernon Boyd III, a tall, dark, and delicious drink of chocolate, who was so fit he could bench press a baby elephant without breaking a sweat. He was the perfect picture of seriousness and silence, that Stiles used to wonder how he functioned as Hale Corp’s Director of Operations. After getting to know him better, he realized just how smart and charismatic Boyd really was.

Boyd’s best friend from childhood was Derek Hale, one of the sons from the famous and powerful Hale Family, owners and leaders of the mass media company, Hale Corp.

Stiles knew of the Hale Family, and who didn’t? You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who didn’t know the famous family of business tycoons and titans, a family so rich they could buy a person’s soul even. Nor would someone fail to hear about one of the most powerful love stories that rocked the world.

Talia Hale was the eldest child of the main branch of the Hale family and was poised to take over the world. Desmond Fitzgerald, in contrast, was the only child of elderly parents, and they lived at a shabby, squat house with no electricity, scraping by each and every day.

Talia’s father, the late and great Everett Hale, had visited the local community college as part of their charity program. Talia had tagged along, nineteen and already learning the ropes, and had tripped over the custodian who had been on his hands and knees straightening the welcome carpet.

Take a guess who the janitor was.

An accidental brush of skin, the burning of a Mark, and that was it.

Talia and Desmond turned out to be soulmates, and their Marks, her howling wolf and his crescent moon, had become one of the most romantic symbols of their time.

Now, where did Stiles and The Family Bean came in, you ask?

Aside from writing, Stiles knew his way around a kitchen. His mother had passed away when he was seven, and he had grown up with a Sheriff father who only knew the basics. Stiles had to learn how to cook a meal or risk them subsisting on fried everything and endless takeout orders.

So yes, Stiles knew how a kitchen worked. The thing was, Erica didn’t, and had spent high school eating Stiles’ meals and hanging around his kitchen. Nothing soothed her viciousness and temper like one of his desserts.

So whenever Erica was close to breaking someone’s jaw and risking a lawsuit, she’d invite Stiles over and he would come and work his magic at The Family Bean. It wasn’t like it was such a hardship. The place had a gorgeous kitchen, a full pantry, and a really comfy setup with cozy booths and colorful tables and chairs.

It wasn’t only Erica who benefited. Stiles often found inspiration at the tail end of a whisk or in between beating a dough into submission while listening to Erica’s gossip. He had come to depend on her brand of sass whenever he was suffering from writer’s block, or dealing with annoying clients, or avoiding his editor, Danny Mahealani.

It got to the point that Erica had HR make him a permanent guest entry pass—written down for Stiles S, Food Guy—and everyone knew him by name, the security, the delivery boys, the café’s actual employees, and some of Hale Corp’s employees.

That was what he meant by his original statement: He did not work for Hale Corp or The Family Bean. He was just Erica’s food guy and personal chef. Just another title to add to personal punching bag, platonic soulmate, best friend, and partner-in-crime, among others.

Boyd was surprisingly calm about the guy constantly hanging around his soulmate. Then again, no one would choose Stiles’ skinny ass for Boyd’s lusciousness, so Stiles could understand that he wasn’t much of a threat. Erica said that Boyd knew they were a package deal, and it helped that Boyd had been won over by Stiles’ banana bread. Either way, Boyd was cool and didn’t punch Stiles in the face for his and Erica’s weird platonic love affair.

So, in the end, that was Stiles’ life—work, his Dad, Erica, and his other friends.

Then the Hales happened.

It all started on a fine Monday morning with Kira Yukimura. She was pretty and petite, and the goddess who was actually the one in charge of The Family Bean’s kitchen. She wore floral dresses with studded combat boots, and held katana wielding lessons on Saturdays and a kids’ kitchen workshop on Sundays. Stiles adored her.

So when he walked in that day—after spending the entirety of the weekend not writing, because his protagonists, Peter and Wade, were being idiots—only to hear Kira’s cries for help, he was more than happy to tag in.

“I’m not crying.” She glared at him from where she was assembling sandwich orders, her gaze as sharp as her swords.

“But you still need help,” Stiles said. He put his laptop bag in one of the employee lockers, rolled up the sleeves of his red sweater, and put on an apron. “Erica wants to do lunch, but I decided to come in early.”

Kira nodded towards the window. “All right, because I got a purple ticket for you.”

Stiles jumped up. “Ooh, cool! I’ve never handled a purple ticket before!”

Kira gave him a relieved smile. “Well, today’s your lucky day. One of my employees called in sick, another is late, and I’ve got five packed tickets from different departments, three of them being rush orders, not to mention today’s purple ticket is a little too vague. I’m both swamped and stumped.”

“I’ve got your back, K.” Stiles gave her a salute and bounced over to the ticket tacked up on the holder.

Purple tickets were orders sent straight from the Wolf’s Den. It was the codename for the top floors occupied by the Hale Family and their closest associates. Boyd and Erica’s office were there, too. Stiles had only ever seen it through photos. There was a lot of security posted there, as if guarding the gates of heaven.

Anyway, purple tickets meant VVVVIP orders, note the number of ‘very’s. Kira usually handled those, but she obviously needed help now.

“Now, what do the Lords and Ladies want?” Stiles murmured to himself.

The Family Bean:

MH: hot chocolate

CC: pancakes

SHB: waffles

VHB: dirty chai

LH: anything

“You know who’s who?” Kira called out.

“Yep, I got it,” Stiles replied. He learned about this from Erica.

MH was Matthew Hale, the firstborn son and heir to the kingdom. CC was his seven-year-old daughter, who everyone called by her nickname. SHB was five-year-old Spencer, and VHB was his mother Valerie Hale-Barone, the firstborn daughter, second eldest, and the lawyer of the family. LH was Laura Hale, the third eldest and the maverick of the family. She was the only one not directly working for Hale Corp, and was more involved their side projects.

“Purple tickets are usually like that,” Kira said, looking at him with amusement. Stiles realized he had been frowning in confusion. “Despite being insanely rich people, they’re surprisingly not very picky about what they eat. Laura, in particular, will eat anything. It’s just difficult to give them variety or find a balance between upscale and too simple.”

“And now you want me to take a crack at it?” Stiles asked.

“Sure. It’ll be in my name anyway, and I don’t mind if you go wild,” Kira said encouragingly. It made Stiles grin. Most would be horrified at handing over their precious menu to someone who wasn’t a baker, much less someone who wasn’t a legitimate employee. But Kira had always been a rebel.

Under Kira’s guidance, Stiles filled up a purple delivery bag for the Hales. The dirty chai latte was pretty straightforward, though he didn’t know how Kira usually made it, so he went with his own style. He also made a raspberry hot chocolate, strawberry cheesecake pancakes, mixed berry waffles, and, for the anything portion of the ticket, a berry breakfast parfait made of yoghurt and fruits and graham crackers.

“Tastes awesome and looks pretty as a picture too,” Kira said, nibbling on her own waffle as she sat atop the counter, swinging her legs to and fro. Stiles could see a hint of her soulmate Mark under her dress just on the outside of her thigh. “I still believe you should have been a baker rather than a writer.”

Stiles grinned as he hung up his apron. “I’m both, but one pays the bills and the other’s a hobby. It’s surprising how most people would think one’s the other.”

“Kira?” a voice called out.

Kira perked up and immediately slid off the counter. She straightened her skirt and stepped out the door of the kitchen.

“Good morning, Derek,” she greeted.

Stiles peeked out unashamedly through the service window.

Tall, dark, and incredibly handsome, DH or Derek Hale was the middle child of the family. He was the Chief Financial Officer, and was said to be shyer and quieter compared to his more unruly and flashy siblings. It made sense why he was childhood friends with Boyd. The two seemed to share a calm, quiet demeanor.

Stiles had always thought that Derek was quite handsome in an already attractive family, and every once in a while, he would get front row seats—or the view through the service window—to the man in the three-piece suit with the godly shoulder to waist to ass ratio. It was quite inspiring.

“I heard Val and the others had a purple ticket sent down,” Derek was saying to Kira. “I’m on my way up and I thought I’d bring it along and save you a trip.”

“Oh, thanks, Derek. I’ll get it from the back,” Kira replied. “How about you? Do you want anything?”

Derek thought about it. “Just a drink. Anything you want to make me.”

“So long as it’s sweet?” Kira teased, which made the man chuckle.

It was like a bulb lit up in Stiles’ head.

He met Kira at the door when she walked back in, and it said so much about how awesome she was because she immediately said, “Yes, Stiles, you can make whatever you want. I mean, you’ve already tried your hard at the purple ticket. Might as well go all the way.”

“Thanks, K. You’re a goddess.” Stiles bounced off to the machines. He had always liked a challenge.

In the end, Stiles added his specially made ‘very merry berry frappe’ into the bag. He made sure to put it in a cup cozy to hide the purple color. He wasn’t sure if Derek would mind, but it just wouldn’t do for one of the bosses to be seen with a colorful drink. He let Kira whisk the bag away and they watched Derek exit The Family Bean.

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” Stiles murmured, eyeing the man’s backside.

“I’ll drink to that.” Kira giggled, clinking her extra glass of frappe against his. “And you’re teaching me the recipe by the way.”

“Not on your life.”

It took eight days before Stiles could once again visit The Family Bean. He had had a burst of inspiration following his last visit and had locked himself up in his apartment. His Dad John and his editor Danny were used to these binges, so they had taken turns visiting him to make sure he was alive and eating actual food rather than inhaling takeout, junk food, and soda.

He had sent off the first few chapters to Danny yesterday and had then slept for about eighteen hours, before Erica had barged in to make sure he hadn’t died. She had been pissed at him last week, annoyed that she hadn’t sampled Stiles’ berry-filled menu, but she’d gotten over it and had even brought groceries before dragging Stiles to The Family Bean for some fresh air and free lunch.

And if that wasn’t enough to perk Stiles up, she and Kira proceeded to tell him how well-received his menu was.

“The kids absolutely loved it, and Laura practically licked her parfait cup clean,” Kira said as they sat around the table for lunch. She had prepared honey sesame chicken, egg rolls, and sweet potato salad. She definitely had Stiles beat when it came to savory meals.

“Valerie was surprised that her dirty chai tasted great. She wasn’t biting people’s heads off more than usual,” Erica shared. She was running her fingers idly over her soulmate Mark, the three claw marks that spanned across her forearm.

Stiles felt pleased at the compliment, but he couldn’t help sending Kira an apologetic look. He didn’t want to usurp her clients and her kitchen.

Kira just laughed. “It’s fine. I know it’s due to your magic fingers and secret recipes. Just teach me how you do Valerie’s dirty chai and we’re good.”

“Sure thing, but it’s nothing special” Stiles said. “I did bring dessert, as thanks for letting me play around last time.”

Kira bounced on her seat. “Tomato pie?”

“With extra bacon and jalapeños, just how you like it.” Stiles grinned and showed her the pie, making Kira squeal.

“You gals eat up. I’ll mix us up some lattes, if you want anything,” he offered.

Stiles went to the kitchen to fix up Erica’s usual iced cinnamon honey latte and Kira’s vanilla almond. He was in the middle of finishing them up when he heard voices out at the main area. He recognized Boyd’s low voice and decided to make him a cup of blond roast with soy milk. He paused when he heard unfamiliar voices and took a peek out the service window. He instantly recognized the small group that had joined Kira and Erica.

There was Boyd, who immediately sat down beside Erica and kissed her cheek. His soulmate Mark was obvious, a rose on the back of his left hand. Stiles liked their marks, very beauty and the beast.

Having come in with Boyd was Derek, who looked just as handsome as he always did in a fetching dark blue suit. With him were his younger siblings, twins Cora and Cameron Hale, the artists of the family, who made music and art, played a bevy of instruments, and also drew and painted. Stiles was only two years older than the twins, but they had more talent in their pinkies than Stiles had in his whole body.

The twins’ Marks were one of the most popular, not just because the two were celebrities, but also because they were incredibly visible. Even from a distance, Stiles could see the compass between Cora’s collarbones and the lighthouse that popped up over Cameron’s collar at the left side of his neck.

Suddenly feeling shy, Stiles stayed in the kitchen and watched and listened.

“Nice spread, Kira. Is that for us?” Cameron asked.

“No, you Hales have your own food upstairs,” Kira said. “I heard Wild Flour Italian sent lunch over.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Jennifer Blake owns that joint. She’s been trying to get us to come over. No doubt she’ll just use it as some sort of advertisement. I’d rather take a bite of this.” She pointed at their table.

“That pie looks good,” Cameron said. “Can I have a bite?”

Stiles saw the gleam in Erica’s eye.

“Go on,” she said. “They’re good.”

Stiles watched as Erica and Kira offered the Hales a slice each. For some reason, he felt anxious to hear about how his food will be received. It had been nice to hear the rave reviews from Kira and Erica, but it was different seeing their reactions in person.

Cora let out yum-yum noises, which buoyed Stiles’ spirit.

“Okay, that’s pretty tasty. I love the caramelized bacon.”

“Wait, is this tomato in pie? Like a tomato pie?” Cameron asked, inspecting his plate. He took a large bite.

Kira bounced on her seat in excitement. “Yes, isn’t it good?”

“Who made this?” Derek asked. He didn’t look displeased, but he didn’t look happy either. He had a really good poker face. It might be good for business, but it was hard for Stiles to interpret. Stiles noted that he kept on eating the pie though.

“My Food Guy,” Erica said with a smug grin.

“Her Food Guy’s the one who made the berry-eautiful purple ticket that received quite the sensational reviews,” Kira added. She glanced at the service window and Stiles knew she saw him hiding there.

“The one who made my drink, too?” Derek asked.

Kira nodded. “The same one.”

“Spence went gaga for those waffles,” Cameron said. “And Mattie couldn’t believe someone got CC to eat fruit.”

A loud ring cut through their conversation and everyone started pulling out phones to check. It was Derek’s.

“Mom’s calling. Time to go,” he said, standing up.

In reply, Cameron started shoving the rest of the pie in his mouth and also popped in a couple of egg rolls.

“Where’s the Food Guy, though?” Cora asked, head turning to the kitchen. Stiles ducked down behind the counter. “If he makes stuff like this, I wanna meet him.”

“You can order a purple ticket if you want, but he’s not here all the time,” Erica said, and Stiles glared at her in his mind.

“He works part-time?” Derek asked.

“Not quite,” Kira said. “He’s—”

They were interrupted once more by a ringing phone, and this time Boyd spoke.

“Talia wants you all upstairs. Now.”

Stiles peeked out again. Cameron attempted to bring the entire pie tin, but settled for polishing his slice off. He then joined Cora in writing up a purple ticket order. After a moment, Derek put an order in too. The Hales left in a hurry and Stiles leaned right out of the service window just as Kira came bouncing towards it.

“There’s the man of the hour,” Boyd said, with a smirk.

Kira giggled. “Order up, Food Guy. You got a purple ticket.”

“I’m so proud.” Erica mockingly wiped a tear away. “Stiles, my Food Guy, charming the Hales off through the power of food.”

“Oh, fuck you all.” Stiles glared, ducking back into the kitchen.

At the last minute, he reached out and grabbed the purple ticket from Kira, ignoring the others’ laughter.

Over the next three weeks, Stiles prepared four more purple tickets. According to Kira, his drinks and desserts had become quite attractive to the Hales, both because of the taste and the mystery.

“At this point, they don’t even want me handling the tickets. They always ask if The Food Guy is around before they send their orders down,” Kira said. This time, she was the one helping Stiles prepare and pack.

The Wolf’s Den was going to be holding meetings nonstop, so Stiles had to prepare a variety of drinks and snacks. It would have been easy if they had simple requests, but the Hales were a mix of eclectic and frustrating.

“I’m glad you’re cool about this, but the Hales are bound to find out that the one making all their desserts isn’t even an employee,” Stiles said, as he added an extra shot of syrup in Laura’s honey and milk iced coffee. Just like her usual orders, she had asked for ‘any drink that’s sweet’ which was such a large ballpark that Stiles wanted to clock someone over the head, maybe her.

“I’m more surprised that you keep making these for free,” Kira said.

Stiles shrugged. “It’s a challenge, and I like challenges.”

“Really, just for the challenge?” Kira asked. “Stiles, Valerie fell in love with your version of her dirty chai. I did it the exact same way you did, but she insists that it tastes different. Same with Cameron’s favorite spiced coconut coffee. Same with all the desserts you made for the kids…”

Her face turned serious. “Don’t you think there’s more to this? Don’t you think it’s a ping—”

“It’s just for fun, Kira. It’s nothing,” Stiles said, heart rabbiting in his chest. He pushed it down firmly. “Plus, it’s surprisingly inspiring for my stories. Right now, I’m writing a new story for my spy series and I’m trying to solve this thing going on between James and Quentin.”

Kira’s face fell but she smiled, if a bit awkwardly. “Ah, well. Whatever you say, Food Guy. I’m just happy I get free labor out of it.”

“So you’re the Food Guy?”

The two of them jumped up in surprise and they turned around to see that someone had come in through the kitchen doors.

“Nathan, hello!” Kira greeted. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

Nathaniel Hale was the youngest of the brood at nineteen, and with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes, he was quite the heartthrob in an already beautiful family. If that wasn’t enough, he was an athlete and a rising star in soccer.

Stiles didn’t really care at the moment, too busy wondering if the kid had heard what Kira had been saying.

Nathan leaned against the counter. “Everyone was arguing over who was going to pick up the ticket this time. I walked out while Laura was arm wrestling with Cam.”

Kira laughed while Stiles looked away, suddenly awkward.

“Uh, that’s cool and all, but I’m not remotely interesting enough to warrant an arm wrestle.”

Nathan shrugged. “Your stuff tastes amazing.” He smiled at Kira. “No offense, Kira. You’re still queen. But you… you’re interesting.” He gave Stiles a look. “You know, I’ve been ordering the same caramel vanilla iced coffee from The Family Bean for years now. You made it once and now everything else tastes different.”

Stiles couldn’t help flinching. Oh yeah. Nathan had definitely heard Kira.

But Nathan turned to Kira, breaking the stare. “Anyway, is the ticket ready? Can I take it up?”

Kira smiled and handed over the bag. “You just want to lord your victory over the others.”

“Of course. That’s what having siblings is all about.” Nathan scoffed, but grinned. “Anyway, thanks.”

Kira smiled. “Enjoy your meal.”

Stiles watched Nathan leave and rubbed his left shoulder. He had a weird feeling about all this.

A single touch was all it took to find someone’s soulmate. However, people couldn’t just go around touching one another. Some did, but there were laws against touching people without their consent. So Nature, in all its wisdom, gave people the capability to locate their soulmates by following a trail.

The best trail was through family members. Take for example one other famous Hale love story, that of Valerie. Her husband, the Italian magnate Piero Barone, was from a family of vintners. During Talia and Desmond’s trip to Italy, they met Piero at a wine tasting event and immediately felt what Mark experts called a ‘ping,’ a connection between them that hinted at the identity of Piero’s soulmate. Piero followed the Hales to America, met the family—all of which gave off similar pings—was finally allowed a Touch Test with Valerie, and the rest was history.

There were other kinds of trails, like what happened between Boyd and Erica. They both attended the same university, though Boyd had graduated several years earlier. However, even without knowing Boyd, Erica inadvertently joined the same groups and organizations that he had, and even lived at the same apartment that he had rented when he had been a student. Then after Erica graduated, she decided to take a year off to travel. Months later, when Boyd went on sabbatical, he ended up following almost the exact same itinerary. They finally met by chance during an alumni event and got to talking, which revealed all of the things they had in common. Before the event was even halfway through, they had done a Touch Test and found their match.

Stiles’ favorite trail story was of his parents’. John and Claudia met when they were children. Having no siblings, they didn’t have the benefit of a family trail, and being young meant there weren’t a lot of experiences that could link them. However, they had always known there was something special about one another. They grew up together, grew apart, and met later on in life. They still didn’t have the same life experiences—she was a librarian, he was a deputy—but the moment they saw one another again, they just knew.

Sometimes people just knew.

“Well, well, well. I didn’t know we were serving twink in the menu.”

Ordinarily, that comment would have had Stiles lashing out with his sharp tongue, but upon looking up, he hesitated. First of all, the other person was clearly drunk and it was only, Stiles checked his watch, three-forty-seven in the afternoon. Second, the other person was none other than the infamous Peter Hale, Talia’s younger brother.

The eternal bachelor, he was called, well known for his many dalliances and relationships. He was also the Hale with the most well-known Mark, not because it was at a visible spot, but mostly because he tended to flaunt the large image of a bird in flight that was across his chest via his tendency of wearing unbuttoned shirts.

In Stiles’ opinion, Peter reminded him of one of his book characters—the rich and powerful Anthony, who, underneath all the bravado, was desperately looking for his soulmate, only to find it in the fair-haired, gentle-hearted Steven, who wouldn’t take his crap. He wondered who Peter’s soulmate was.

“Oh, for god’s sake. Uncle, come back here!”

Stiles looked up to see Derek jogging over to them, looking both pissed and worried at the man leaning against The Family Bean’s pristine counter.

Peter ignored him. “Oh, lay off, Derek. I want a drink, and this twink is going to make me one.”

Derek turned to Stiles. “Peter, do not call—” He paused, dark eyes widening.

Stiles felt his heart jerk in his chest and his left shoulder burn. He felt like he had been hit in the head, so did Derek going by his gaping.

Peter suddenly tilted sideways, interrupting their stare down. Neither Stiles nor Derek were able to catch the man before he ended up sprawled across the counter. The sight of him had Stiles dredging up some semblance of control. He sighed.

“You are very rude, and also very drunk, but because I feel sorry for you, Mr. Hale, I’ll make you a free drink.”

Derek let out a gurgle and then a cough, obviously holding back laughter. Peter propped himself up on wobbly elbows.

“You feel sorry for me? Don’t you know who I am, kid?”

Stiles was both annoyed by Peter and buoyed by Derek’s reaction. It was probably what sharpened his tongue.

“You’re Talia Hale’s younger brother, but between the supposed—ahh, what was it—Big Bad Wolf of Media and this so-called twink, I’m not the one nursing a hangover at this time of the afternoon.”

Stiles shook his head and walked off, ignoring Peter’s angry, garbled words and the sudden chuckle from Derek. The latter made Stiles’ shoulder ache.

Stiles ignored that and prepared a quick takeout bag. He could hear Peter and Derek arguing out on the main area. It was the work of minutes to prepare a quick smoothie and throw in some crackers and fruits. He walked back out and handed the bag to Derek, but then quickly tucked his hands to himself. The other man’s piercing stare was making him sweat.

Peter grabbed his drink and took a gulp of the smoothie, before asking, “What’s your name, kid?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Not even a thank you. How rude.

“Not a kid, and there’s no need to know my name since you’re just going to forget it.”

Peter smirked lasciviously. “Oh, that mouth on you.”

“I’m also not into geriatrics,” Stiles was quick to bite back.

Peter’s jaw dropped. “Geria—”

Derek suddenly burst into laughter and the sound of it seemed to fill Stiles’ heart and mind, making his face flush and his body warm. Derek smiled at him and Stiles felt warmth bloom in his chest.

Stiles cleared his throat, trying to will the blush away. He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, anyway, I’m happy to help. I’ll tell Kira you guys dropped by. See you around.” He glanced at Peter. “Not you. Drop dead.” He stepped back.

“Wait!” Derek lurched forward, startling Stiles and also Peter, who, true to Stiles’ words, slid off the counter to the floor. They ignored him.

Derek leaned forward over the counter. “I’m sorry if I’m forward, but are you—”

Stiles shook his head vigorously. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

He ducked back into the kitchen, ignoring Derek’s calls and Peter’s drunken warbling. He leaned against the door and slid down until he could curl up into a ball. He placed a hand over his burning shoulder.

Sometimes people just knew.

Stiles was tempted to stay away from The Family Bean after that. He really wanted to. But it was hard to stay away.

Even harder to stay away from a ping.

Stiles wasn’t stupid enough to let that slip away.

Still, it was hard to face up to it and admit that he had a soulmate.

So for the next two weeks, Stiles stayed away from the front of house, always hiding in the safety of the kitchen. He kept on making purple tickets whenever they came, but he avoided coming out for any reason, especially after Derek started coming by nearly every day. Sometimes he even brought his work over just so that he could stay as long as possible.

It confused Kira and Erica, but they assumed Derek just liked the food. The other Hales also started coming by and many times, Stiles could hear them asking Derek why he was hanging around The Family Bean instead of working in his office. Always, Derek kept mum.

Because as it turned out, Derek hadn’t told anyone about the ping.

In fact, Stiles had a feeling that the only person in the Hale family who knew was Nathan. Maybe because he had already been suspicious of it. Out of all the Hales, he was the only one who didn’t ask Derek about why he kept hanging around the café.

The other one who knew was Boyd.

Derek had been called to a meeting one day, so Stiles had felt it safe to come out and work at one of the booths. He had already fallen so far behind on his writing commitments. After a few minutes, Boyd had dropped by and had joined him. Stiles knew he was typing gibberish on his laptop, but he kept on as an excuse not to look at Boyd, who was looking at him intently.

Finally, he spoke, “Looking back, I guess it wasn’t just your banana bread that won me over.”

Stiles jerked, sending a series of characters across the screen.

Boyd kept on. “I always had a good feeling about you from Erica’s stories, but when we met, that was definitely a ping.”

Stiles bit his lip. “Does Erica know?”

Boyd shook his head. “I love her, but Erica would have thrown a party if she knew.”

Stiles sighed, both in relief and in trepidation for the moment Erica find out.

Boyd studied him. “Derek’s a good guy, you know.”

“I know I got that impression from all the stories you and Erica had of him,” Stiles said. “I always thought it was surprising considering he could afford not to be a nice guy.”

Boyd studied him, making Stiles shift in his seat. “Is that the reason you won’t meet with him? Or do a Touch Test? Because he’s a Hale?”

Stiles almost protested, but he deflated. “…I don’t know.”

Boyd hummed under his breath. “Well, you’ve always played your cards close to the chest when it comes to soulmates, but I know you’ll figure it out.” He stood up. “But you better make it soon. Erica and the rest of the Hales are bound to figure it out.”

Stiles groaned and sank down on his seat.

“Noted.”

The day after that, a still-conflicted Stiles was once again at The Family Bean. Kira had gone up to the Wolf’s Den to deliver the latest purple ticket, so he had to stay and man the counter.

The door let out a little tinkle, and Stiles froze the moment he saw the woman entering the café.

He’d know Talia Hale anywhere.

Stiles almost panicked, but then he remembered that she didn’t know who he was. He took a deep breath.

“Um, good afternoon, Mrs. Hale. What can I get you?”

The woman smiled, quite warm and friendly despite her fierce reputation. “Just some tea, please. And are there any new desserts?”

It had been a moment of weakness, but Stiles had actually brought over some peanut butter stuffed cookies and added it to the purple ticket in the hopes that a certain Hale would like them. He still had a few cookies left, but he wasn’t sure if he should offer them to her.

“I smell cookies,” Talia said pointedly. “I’ll have some of those.”

Stiles gulped. “Ah, we have some peanut butter stuffed cookies. Let me get those for you.”

He swallowed his nerves and served the woman, who took a sip of tea and a bite of the cookie right there on the counter.

She smiled, studying the cookies. “Very tasty.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Stiles smiled politely. He turned away to leave and maybe gather his strength in the privacy of the kitchen.

“When we started hearing about The Food Guy, I admit I was quite intrigued. It’s very rare for someone to grab the attention of my entire family.”

Stiles paused and turned to her.

He should have known.

Stiles nodded stiffly. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Talia smiled, sharp and knowing. “And you, Food Guy.”

“Any reason for the visit?” Stiles asked, shifting on his feet.

“I wanted to meet you,” Talia said, taking another bite of her cookie.

Stiles frowned. “That’s all?”

“Were you expecting anything else?”

“Uh, well, I…”

Talia shrugged and sipped his tea. “I don’t blame you for any misgivings you might have should you prove to be soulmates with my son. I’m well aware of the reputation of my family. My late father, Everett, embodied the might of the Hale name better than anyone. You should have seen him back in the days.”

Stiles held up his hands. He couldn’t help the feeling that he had to explain.

“It’s not that there’s a problem with Derek or your family. Being a Hale isn’t the problem… not entirely…” he hesitated, but then plunged on, urged by the ping he could feel inside him and the desire to make someone understand. “My mom passed away when I was seven. She was soulmates with my father. He was—I was—we were never the same after.”

A heavy silence fell, and Stiles was both nervous and intrigued. Talia’s face changed. Something in her eyes darkened and she pursed her lips.

“Forgive my sudden melancholy, but I was just reminded of something.” She sipped her tea. “I was reminded of my youth. My father, Peter, and I had never been the same after mother walked away.”

“Walked away?” Stiles was taken aback. It was rare to hear any mention of Talia’s mother, but everyone had chalked it up to grief at her passing. “But you all said she died—”

Talia interrupted him delicately. “People think of Marks as the be all and end all where the only answer is yes. But even soulmates are a choice…”

“Desmond grew up without a penny to his name, so he rejected me as he could only see himself as an embarrassment to the Hale family. My opinionated father had, unfortunately, been a contributing factor to that line of thinking. I grew up with a rather jaded view of Marks and pings, and I had seen his rejection as a challenge and not a privilege. Desmond and I, our story had been tempestuous, quite unlike the romanticizing people had done.”

She finished the last of her tea. “If I may be allowed to request one thing, all I ask is that you make a choice so that Derek can do the same. No one in this family will certainly blame you for it.”

Talia pushed her empty cup and plate towards Stiles, and smiled. “Have a good day, Food Guy.”

Stiles watched Talia walk away.

He had some thinking to do.

Stiles took a deep breath and tried not to crush the boxes in his hands. He was nervous and his left shoulder was throbbing.

“Ready?” Kira asked him. She was carrying the other delivery boxes.

“As I’ll ever be,” Stiles replied.

Kira smiled, both encouraging and proud, and nodded to the guard on duty. The man held open the double doors for them, and Stiles was instantly met with a wall of sound.

“Purple ticket delivery,” Kira called out, leading Stiles inside.

The office was spacious, as it should be if it was going to accommodate all of the Hales, and all of them were there. There was a long table at one end where Talia, Matthew, and Boyd were talking and laughing. Desmond was on one couch, talking to Piero and Erica. Laura and Cora were seated on armchairs and were arguing loudly about something. Peter was egging them on. CC and Spencer, were seated in front of a television at a kids’ play area set up in the corner. Cameron was with them, all of them singing along to whatever cartoon was playing. Derek, Valerie, and Nathan were huddled around a table, looking at blueprints.

“Oh, yes! The food’s here!” Cameron cheered, which sent the children shouting as well.

Kira navigated the area like a champ, while Stiles slowly shuffled after. “You guys ordered a lot. I had to ask for help. This is Stiles.”

Stiles didn’t miss the way Derek’s head suddenly jolted in his direction, nor Talia’s proud smile, nor Erica’s sudden screech of “Stiles!” which had everyone else turning their way. Stiles winced. He was going to get his ass kicked later for not telling Erica about this.

“Well, well…” Peter grinned. “Hello there, twink.”

Stiles shuddered. “Still not into creepy old geezers.”

“Oh, wait, wait! Is he the guy who called you a geriatric?” Laura asked, before shrieking in laughter.

“And the one who said Peter should drop dead,” Cora added, cackling.

Laughter rang around over Peter’s protests, and it made Stiles’ heart stutter. He felt warm all over, like the pings going off in his head were doubly delighted at the Hales. He glanced at Derek, who was smiling warmly.

Stiles winced when he caught Erica’s gaze though. She looked between him and Derek and her eyes widened. But Boyd was suddenly there, hand over her mouth and whispering to her.

Stiles helped Kira take out all of the food and the ravenous Hales were quickly upon them.

“Food Guy’s stuff tastes awesome,” Nathan said, licking his cupcake’s icing. He waggled knowing eyebrows at Stiles, who bit back a grin. Cheeky kid.

“Please pass our compliments to the chef, Kira,” Desmond said, reaching for his drink.

Kira giggled. “You can thank him yourself.” She waved at Stiles with a flourish.

Stiles felt a little like a deer in headlights when all their gazes alighted on him.

“You’re Food Guy?” and other iterations of the exclamation rang around the room.

Stiles flushed. “I’m glad to hear you all like what I’ve been making.”

“Oh, wow! How wonderful!” Piero piped up. “I haven’t felt a ping in such a long time. How nostalgic, don’t you think, dear?” He turned to Valerie.

“That’s a ping?” Matthew asked, confused, before his face cleared and he rubbed his chest. “Oh, hell, this is a ping.”

“Is that the tingly feeling here, Uncle Mattie?” Spencer asked, pointing at his tummy.

Erica finally managed to get out from under Boyd. “Stiles, did you ping with Derek? Is that why you’ve both been hanging around The Family Bean? You’ve both been pining over each other!”

Stiles groaned, while gasps and shouts suddenly rang around the room.

Kira sighed. “Way to ruin it, Erica.”

“You mean I was pinged through a tomato pie?” Cameron was asking, wide-eyed.

Cora started laughing. “Oh my god! Uncle Peter flirted with Derek’s soulmate!”

“That’s Uncle Derek’s soulmate?” CC asked.

“Yes, he is.” Nathan looked like he was immensely enjoying all this, and Stiles was starting to realize that he was a little shit.

Derek stepped towards Stiles. His face was a little red, but he was smiling and Stiles thought he was the handsomest man he had ever seen.

“My family’s a mess. Please ignore them,” Derek said, ignoring the protests from his siblings.

Stiles chuckled. “At least they keep things interesting. It’s just me, my Dad, and her.” He jerked a thumb at Erica.

“Oh, fu—dge you!” Erica said, glancing at the kids. She turned to Boyd. “And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

Boyd rolled his eyes. “I was giving him space to process things.”

Stiles ignored them and turned to Derek. He only had one chance to do this.

“Ah, sorry, it took a while. I was figuring stuff out, but I thought we should get to know one another first.”

“Of course,” Derek said immediately. He reached out a hand. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Stiles.”

Stiles glanced at Talia, who was whispering to her husband. She winked at Stiles.

“Soulmates are a choice.”

Stiles smiled at Derek. He could feel his Mark tingling in anticipation.

“Me too, Derek.”

He reached out and took his hand.

#kevaaronday #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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ashley-ghuleh · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: A Friend

(Little note, this is waaaay longer then I thought it would be. But I’m pretty happy with it, here’s to just writing to have fun~<3)

In which a Phoenix befriends a Crow. And the roaring Fire is to meet the Icy Sea.

High school for the rich, some think it would be nicer than a middle class school. Nice kids from prestigious families with good standing reputations. Those people are wrong, rich schools are just as bad if not worse than those of anything lower than them.

Rude kids who were living either spoiled lives with parents who gave them everything they’ve ever wanted.

Or kids coming from homes where they feel smothered by the ‘charitable acts’ their family was known for, or how controlling their parents could be.

And then the kids who didn’t have it so rough who rebelled no matter, just wanting to cause trouble for fun, showing up for school properly dressed and disheveling themselves once in the building without a care if a teacher scolded them, though most teachers have given up on this type of student and their stubborness.

But not all students who acted or dressed this way came from a household that was normal or standard for a rich family. Some who did this came from a place like, The Kohle family.

When it came to higher power in a society of nothing but fake suits and dresses.

The Kohle’

A house made of a mother and father like most were, Elizabeth Grace Kohle Heiress to the original bloodline of Kohle, and James Kohle, formally James McKnight though when he married into the family he had taken the Kohle name in place for his given name as to gain further power from the title. This family on the outside looks picture perfect. Seven kids, six boys and one girl, blessed with many children to continue on the family name. Two loving parents to care for the kids and bring their family to greatness. But under the picture of a ‘perfect’ family portrait lies the full unedited truth. Seven kids, six boys and one girl, six prodigal children and one black sheep. It wasn’t easy being the disappointment, but it was a dirty job and somebody had to do it, and that somebody was Marcus Kohle, born fourth before the twins, his father’s only hated child and his mother’s favorite.

Being babied and spoiled by his mother and disregarded or shunned by his father and other siblings his father has turned against him, happened to be what shaped this tiny rebel.

Marcus looked like any normal teenager going into school, but these students wouldn’t know this was his fifth transfer for fighting and being an all around troublemaker.

He walked through the halls remembering the short tour, his school uniform tidy and neat, his hair nicely styled as his mother had done for him before he left that morning, everything in its place.

Until he stepped through the doors, heading right to the locker rooms. Changing into black beat up combat boots and then ruffling up his hair so it hung perfectly a mess, while undoing the buttons on his uniform dress shirt and loosening his tie to hang lazily around his neck. Walking out he strolled with his bag to his locker ready to cause some chaos.

Those feeling suffocated by the bosom of their parent’s cloaked public affection were like Ashley Carter.

The Carter’

This home was built on a steady arranged marriage of two high school sweethearts, David Carter and Adela Guilani now Adela Guilani-Carter. She kept her maiden name so if things got ugly she could easily drop the hyphenated last name of her husband. Two ‘loving’ parents of course, who were blessed with a single gifted daughter.

Being born with birth defects that stunned the two parents had been such a reputation concern, that they announced the birth of their daughter without showing her face. The doctor had said Ocular Albinism didn’t run in the family lineage as far as they could find, it just happened to be a rare occurrence.

Rare she was, Ashley Carter was an oddity in a world of normalcy that her parents tried to force upon her. Once she had hit 14 she didn’t care much anymore.

She was the family disappointment, a disgrace to the family name and she would never be what her parents wanted for an heir or a child.

This torn family dynamic wasn’t lost on most other families, some of them were sympathetic, giving the pale eyed girl a safe place to decompress and feel as though nothing or no one could do anything to her, they couldn’t touch her in these safe havens.

Walking into school, she was in her school uniform of course. Hair tied up in high ponytail and her uniform skirt pulled up some to show off her knees as well as her top two blouse buttons undone and her cherry red converse squeaked softly as she trudged to her locker, another day of torture was all she could think.

But she didn’t know that she was about to make the friend that would fight for her till the end.

Some of her friends met up with her to walk to the lockers, chatting softly as she would adjust her sunglasses, the indoor/outdoor lenses for these ones taking a little longer than usual to switch over.

Ashley looked the same as she did the year prior, but with this new year and being a year older, she had changed her looks a bit, having decided she was done hiding she no longer wore her colored contacts to hide her eyes and the most outrageous part of her new look was her new hair color.

Kids from other classes and her own watched her walk by, chest length hair that was now a bold fiery red, Ashley was tired of hiding, wanting to be seen for the girl she could and would be. This new color caused her ‘poor’ mother to faint and her father to demand her to “Wash it out! Now!” Only for the recently rebellious teen to reply with, “ It’s permanent. And no~”

The colors resembled the many hidden within a burning flame, reds, oranges and even some soft pinks, yellowy oranges, all laid out with the best strategies to make her unnatural hair color look.. Well natural. It made her skin seem paler but brought out the color of her freckles, her eyes though always milky crystal seemed to be brighter in a sense.

Closing in on their destination, Ashley and her friends slowed to see a new student being cornered by the lockers, the red haired girl’s happened to be the one this boy’s back was pressed to. “ Hey! I said to say something funny, you're the new foreign kid right? I bet you got a fucking hilarious voice and accent! Go on skinny, say something!” This teasing voice, that was oh so grating on Ashley’s ears made her groan, it belonged to a boy she hasn’t been able to stand since they met at the age of 10, “ Tommy. Fucking. Wilson.” She grumbled now standing before said boy, a born jock through and through. It was like in the dna for that family or something. He would’ve been handsome if he didn’t act so ugly.

“Ashley Carter~ Finally ready to submit to me and become my girlfriend.” The new student against the locker, snorted with a sharp inhale before snickering. “ She’s way out of your league.” His voice was soft, masculine for a 14 year old boy and oddly feminine in an angelic satisfying way.

The two girls that had been walking with Ashley giggled at the remark and not so much the strange European accent he had and tried to fight around.

Tommy and his two friends looked confused and then shrugged it off. “ I changed my mind, totally thought that you would sound funny but you don’t and honestly..” He narrowed his eyes at the new boy. “ The sound of your voice makes me wanna punch you.” He brought his fist up and Ashley stepped in, smacking Tommy on the back of the head, while he reacted she spoke, glaring down at him. “ If you lay a finger on him, I’ll remind you of what I did when you messed with Cecilia’s lunch and fed her meat. Knowing full well she went vegetarian.” The young jock’s eyes widened at the idea and he straightened himself out and dusted his shirt off. “ Well.. I guess-” “ You're just going to let a girl scare you?” Came the squeaky voice of another boy in Tommy’s little friend group.

Ashley stepped forward putting more heat into her gaze while taking her sunglasses off to show fully the anger in her murky eyes. “ Test your luck punk.” She hissed before the small gaggle of boys and Tommy became legitimately scared and ran off down the hall pushing passed students as they went.

The new boy stood up and sighed, running his hand through his messy hair, “ They didn’t hurt you did they?” Came a sweet soft voice belonging to a beautiful girl only describable as looking like a picture of a blond bombshell girl, the little accessories she wore and her vintage looking makeup were perfect replicas of most early war propaganda posters from the 50s. “ I’m fine thanks..” He said softly trying to not talk too loud, any louder than he was his accent would slip.

“I’m Cecilia, you can call me Cici~” She held out her hand, cocking a brow. He took it and shook it weirdly, clearly uncomfortable.

A tall raven haired girl on Ashley’s other side grinned and gave a tiny two finger wave. “ I’m Lilith. Call me Lili or Li'l.” He nodded at her before looking at Ashley whole nodded at him. “ I’m Ashley. Also the girl who just saved your little tush. What’s your name, new kid?” She asked while getting into her locker and arranging her things and grabbing what she’d need for her class.

He grumbled something under his breath and then sighed through his nose. “ Marcus.. Kohle..” Cecilia jumped and gasped. “ Holy shit! Like the Kohle family from Germany that owns and operates a huge oil rig branch?!?” Groaning the new kid, Marcus, nodded and rubbed his forehead.

“Don’t remind me please.” He sighed, Lilith and Ashley both nudged Cici who shrugged and flailed a bit, “ S-sorry sugar.. Didn’t mean to upset you. So! You guys just moved here right? You're gonna need some friends!” She giggled, smiling brightly. Ashley nodded, “ Yea, and it might as well be us if you're gonna survive in this jungle. Especially if you want to avoid conflict with Tommy.” Marcus grinned and laughed coldly. “ I was doing my best.. Not to hit him.” Lilith nodded.

“Steer clear of him if you can kid, he packs a punch..” Ashley snorted and shut her locker, “ When he can land one. My depth perception is clinically off by birth and can aim a hit better. Tommy couldn’t hit the broad side of a cow with a banjo.” She quipped while looking down slightly at Marcus. “ What class do you have first?” The german boy looked at his curriculum list. “ English li-....” He frowned at the word he was obviously having a hard time with. Cecilia peeked over his shoulder and saw it, “ English literature.. Not to be rude, hun, but I’m guessing your English reading is..” She raised a worried brow and Marcus frowned deeper and flapped his hand back and forth, the three girls looked at each other and nodded. “ It's okay, we’re all in that class with you, so we’ll help you. We’re friends now! So we’re gonna do what friends do best and help each other~” Cecilia giggled, her giggles were infectious and Marcus smiled softly, Ashley looked down at him taking him in for a moment, small and thin as a whip. His hair was messy and was a rich, dark black, it was so dark it had a soft tint of an iridescent shine like crow feathers. His face was sharp, feminine. His skin was almost sickly pale, but his eyes were what stood out to her.

Deep, blue oceanic eyes. They looked tired, obvious by the deep set circles under them, but she found herself feeling like she was falling into a dark blue void, swirling through an angry whirlpool in the temperamental sea. Even with how emotionally exhausted he looked, his eyes held this intense energy to them.

Ripped from her thoughts by her friends, she looked to see if they noticed she had spaced out, Marcus didn’t notice, neither did the girls, Lilith was running her fingers through Marcus’ messy tresses. “ Your hair is so cool.. It reminds me of a crow~” She grinned, the foreign boy nodded his thanks softly. “Oh! Oh! Our little friend group is complete! We’ve got the sassy Italian’s,” She giggled, waving at herself and Lilith, “ I’m Italian too..” Ashley pouted, “ Yes, but now we also have.” She sang that ‘a’ to draw it out while shoving Marcus and Ashley shoulder to shoulder, “ The phoenix and the crow~” The blond bubbled and grinned brightly.

The two looked at each other and then shrugged, “ Works for me. Just don’t be calling me that around others.” He grumbled though wasn’t actually grumpy about it, Ashley nodded, “ I mean I like it but it's a little… Stage name-y? How about something more subtle for general use?”

Marcus looked up at her and immediately spoke before anyone else could. “ Ash.” He stated plainly. “ Phoenix's rise from ashes, reborn into the world. Becoming greater with every rebirth.” He said with a bored tone almost like it was so obvious before adding on, “ Plus it's her name but shortened.. I am foreign but not dumb.”

The girls all laughed and smiled at the boy’s antics, he was going to be a lot of fun to get to know and hang out with. Already each girl held special places in their hearts for this precious kid and wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

“Well gang.. We better get to class before Professor Davidson comes searching for us.” Groaning at the idea they made sure they all had everything including Marcus and went onto class.

Walking down the hallway were four new best friends, and two who would stand up for the other no matter the scenario. Beautiful bonds were made between the Phoenix, and the Crow.

But the two thought, how would the intense Fire handle meeting the Freezing Sea, that’s been raging for centuries?

That’s something they’ll find out together. As they would do so, with many things to come.

#AshleyGhulehWriting #my original characters #Unedited writing I'm just going for it #writing for fun

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bitterlikesweets · 3 years ago

Text

Love Bites Special Ch

This is a special chapter of a modern/vampire AU ereri fanfic. It's a bit of an extra, in the form of Levi recapping the entire story so far. You can also read it on Ao3. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | Special

~1~

Levi would rather die than admit this to anyone, but the first thing that went through his mind when he met Eren was, Shit, this guy is my type.

No, really. Isabel was collapsed on the floor at Levi's feet, Mikasa was practically frothing at the mouth, and Levi was thinking, Shit, this guy is my type.

Then he saw the vague outline of fangs through Eren's lips, and thoughts about the random guy's attractiveness were no longer on Levi's radar.

He was a new vampire; that much was clear. For his fangs to be so visible, he probably hadn't had blood in a long time. Only new fools were that stubborn.

New vampires were Levi's least favorite kind. Immature. Irresponsible. Always a pain to deal with. And Isabel had already angered Eren and his friend, leaving Levi in charge of damage control. Seriously, would it have been that hard for her to write out the three extra letters that made "no gar" into "no garlic?"

This certainly wasn't how he expected a vampire to taste his blood for the first time, but Levi knew that there were worse ways. Still, that didn't make him particularly pleased about having to use a kitchen knife to poke a hole in his damn wrist. While sullenly bringing the liquid to the vampire in a wine glass—he wasn't sure if the vampire's friends knew, and he preferred to be careful—Levi thought that the shitty vampire better not waste a single drop.

By the end of the night, Levi's last impression of Eren was this:

What kind of dumbass vampire turns down free blood?

~2~

Levi thought Eren running out of Kuchel's Kitchen like his life depended on it would be the last Levi ever saw of him. He seemed less than pleased about Levi giving him a glass of blood, though Levi wasn't sure if that was the shock of being found out or Levi's blood tasting like a pile of dog shit. If it did, that'd answer the questions Levi had about the origins of the rumor of poisonous Ackerman blood. If he had a drink of something that tasted like dog shit, he'd think it was poison too.

So, Isabel walking into their breakroom with Eren in tow was certainly a surprise. But what was most surprising to Levi was when he told Eren to just go and drink some blood like a normal vampire and the response was—

“No! I… Anything but that. Please.”

How long had it been since Levi had met a vampire who didn’t want to drink blood? Someone who didn’t seem like they wanted to be a vampire? Hanji was thrilled about their undead status, and Erwin had lived a long enough life as one to learn to accept it. And these days, only those who wanted a taste of immortality, a taste of that sort of power, got turned. Drinking a bit of blood was part of the deal they agreed to sign up for. Something wasn’t right with this kid. Levi just wasn’t sure what it was.

“If I knew who they were, they’d be fucking dead.”

The dark expression. The anger. Levi had seen that look on only two people’s faces before. One of them was himself. He knew immediately that it was likely a feral attack. But that didn’t make sense either because all ferals were under the King. Their victims either didn’t make it or were recruited for that sick fuck’s cause, and yet somehow Eren was right here…

When Eren started his story by talking about his mom, Levi’s stomach dropped. Eren’s voice was shaking, his body was trembling, and it felt like Levi was staring at himself from all those years ago, except at least Levi was given the mercy of not becoming the creature that took his mother away—

Levi reached out to touch Eren without even thinking. When Eren blinked up at him with those big green eyes, brimming with tears… Fuck, Levi had no idea what had gotten into him. His chest was squeezing like someone’s fist was in his ribcage, trying to choke out his heart. It was unfamiliar, it was strange. He just got this overwhelming urge to do something, to help. It was the feeling he got when he found Furlan left for dead in a basement, when he saw Isabel curled up in the corner of a vampire hideout. He wanted to save, to protect, but this was different because it’s not like the brat was in danger, so Levi had no idea why the urge was so damn strong.

“What are you doing?” Eren asked. He still had tear tracks on his cheeks.

I don’t know, Levi thought.

“Someone has to teach you how to be a vampire,” was what Levi said out loud. “This is step one.”

Eren looked miserable, even as he grabbed hold of Levi’s wrist. There was a piercing ache in Levi’s arm, but it faded at the same moment that Eren’s expression finally relaxed a bit, and Levi let out a quiet sigh of relief. Though whether the relief came from the pain going away or from knowing he had helped Eren, even a little, Levi wasn’t sure.

~3~

Every time Levi touched Eren, he felt like he needed to justify it for himself. He curled his fingers into Eren’s hair because it was a simple way to let him know it was time to stop drinking. That was the only reason.

He tried not to think about how his words also would have done the job just fine.

Levi distracted himself with the littlest things. He watched the little bite marks in his wrist become scars, busying his mind with what would be a miracle for most people. He knew what vampire saliva could do, but he’d never seen it used on himself.

“Alright, kid—”

“Eren.”

“...What?”

“Eren. My name.”

Eren bounced back fast. He fell abruptly in that hole of misery until he was in tears, and he’d already climbed far enough out of it to be a bit snappy with Levi. Levi felt like he should be annoyed, but the only emotion brewing within him was a bit of amusement, so he let it slide.

Eren’s look of panic when Levi tossed a wooden stake at him was pretty amusing too.

They argued for a bit—if it could even be called an argument—over Levi’s status as a vampire hunter and his various weapons concealed around the room. It was almost amazing how different Eren looked with a bit of blood in him. He was no longer that skinny, stressed, starving vampire Levi met a week ago. Without thinking, Levi reached out and tugged on Eren’s cheek, trying to see if he could still see the outline of Eren’s fangs. Even with the skin pulled taut, there wasn’t even a bump. His fangs were back to regular size. Good.

Things were good like that. He could’ve left it that way. But Levi’s curiosity got the better of him, and he asked something he shouldn’t have—insinuated something he shouldn’t have.

“Are you trying to say I killed my mom?”

That wasn't what he meant at all, though he could see how Eren's mind went there.

Perhaps Levi was calmer than he should have been about a vampire tossing a table across the room. But Eren clearly just didn’t know what he was doing or what he was capable of. The urges came back again—help, protect, do something.

And by the time Eren left, the vampire was okay again. Levi didn’t know if he actually helped or if Eren had some magic ability to bounce back from pure panic within minutes. Either way, he was glad it worked out. It was far easier to jokingly threaten the brat with a stake than it was to try and comfort him. Levi wasn’t great at the pep talks and the hugging and all the shit Hanji usually nagged him about for not being able to do.

Though it did seem a bit easier to do for Eren. For some reason.

Well, Eren managed a smile on the way out. That’s what mattered. Flashed his shitty sharp fangs at Levi in the process too. Goofy brat.

~4~

“So, you’re kinda sweet on that Eren guy, aren’t you?”

Levi paused with his soapy hands deep in the sink, aiming a glare at Furlan from across the kitchen. Furlan was putting on his apron as Petra stripped off her kitchen attire, preparing for their change in shifts. Petra’s eyes immediately lit up at the sound of Levi being “sweet on” Eren. Which he wasn’t. What does that really mean anyway?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Levi asked.

“You know,” Furlan said, “offering to teach him about vampires and stuff.”

Levi rolled his eyes and brought his focus back to the dirty dishes.

“Would you prefer that I let him go feral?”

“Who’s Eren?” Petra asked, sliding over to Levi, who kept his gaze locked on the sink.

“Nobody,” Levi replied.

“A vampire that Levi’s taking in,” Furlan said. “Seems like Levi’s type. You know. Tall, bright eyes…”

Petra’s eyes brightened and she leaned even closer, drumming her fingers on the kitchen counter. Levi just sighed and tried to ignore her.

“It’s rare for you to take in a vampire,” Petra said. “What do you two usually get up to? Is he going to start working here? What’s he like? Oh, are you two going to—”

“Petra.”

“...Yes?”

“I’ve known Eren for two weeks. There’s nothing happening. I’m not ‘sweet’ on anybody or whatever shit Furlan said. Stop asking.”

Petra deflated in disappointment and Levi sighed, scrubbing more furiously at the dirty dishes. Furlan let his hands rest on his hips, still grinning.

“But he is your type, isn’t he?”

"Furlan—"

“What’s this about Levi’s type?” Isabel piped up, only her head poking through the door. She must have just arrived for work. “Are we trying to get him laid? ‘Cause Levi’s special brand of ‘I-don’t-care-about-you-but-we-can-bang’ is usually only endearing when he��s drunk—”

A plate snapped in half beneath Levi's soap-covered hands.

“Get to work before I fire every single one of you.”

As the three employees went running, Levi questioned why he surrounded himself with these fucking idiots.

~5~

Eren was blood drunk. At first, it was kind of amusing, and for a moment the word 'cute' may have crossed Levi's mind. Eren was asking him why Levi was the one that looked more like a vampire out of the two of them, which of course Levi didn't have the answer to. It was funny, endearing, and it helped clear Levi's mind of the somber reasons why he let Eren bite him. He loved and missed his mother, but sometimes thinking of her was… too much. Even now. Even after all this time.

So, Levi was grateful for the little distraction that was blood drunk Eren.

…At least until Eren puked blood into Levi's potted plant.

Everything that happened after that was… blurry. He remembers rushing over to Eren, cradling his unconscious body with one arm as he called Erwin and Hanji with his free hand. This had never happened before. Levi didn't know what to do. Levi really, really disliked not knowing what to do, especially when he had a blacked-out vampire with a bump the size of an apple on his head.

Levi knew so much about vampires. Their habits, their needs, their rules, their history—

And yet now, when he truly needed to know something, some obscure fact about their strange bodies, Levi was at a loss. He didn't know. He didn't know what to do. He didn't have the answers. He felt fucking useless. After his mother died, he wanted to learn everything, to replace every lie with truth. He never wanted to be caught off guard by a vampire again because look what not knowing the truth about their strange aversion to Ackerman blood had led to—

It was blurry. What Levi did while waiting. According to Hanji and Erwin, he'd been "petting Eren like a dog" the whole time. And Eren was lying on the table by the time those two got there, so Levi must have moved him too.

Levi really doesn't remember much. He remembers thinking about his mom, about how he'd failed to protect her. In hindsight, he knows he shouldn't have been so worried about Eren, that it wasn't to that scale. Levi wasn't sure then what made him panic so much. He's still not all that sure now. It was instinct and old memories that pushed him forward. That's all he knows for sure.

Levi was just so, so glad when Eren opened his eyes again.

If those two nosy fucking geezers hadn't been in the room, he might have even let it show on his face.

~6~

Eren's whole face turned red and Levi wasn't sure why. They were just talking about what to do in response to Eren's health issues. Eren said that they needed to meet every day, and Levi tried to make plans according to that. Then suddenly Eren was talking about how he didn't want to be a bother or for Levi to go out of his way for nothing—which was stupid because it was not for nothing. There was a clear reason. He was doing this for Eren.

When Levi told him as much, Eren's whole face turned red. Levi had no idea what it was about his words that caused such a reaction.

And Hanji interrupted before he was able to find out why. Then the conversation strayed to the hunters of old, from Erwin's time, but hunting of that scale was the last thing Levi wanted to think about while surrounded by friendly vampires. That was his family legacy: murder of innocent creatures whose crime was being born—well, turned is the proper word.

It was a good thing he ended it when he did. But then that got Levi thinking about how things ended—

Erwin probably sensed it. He may be as much of a nosy little shit as Hanji, but at least he knows when to leave.

When it was just Eren and Levi again, Levi thought of his mother, of Ackerman blood. He broached the idea to Eren—the idea that this might be his fault. Maybe Ackerman blood wasn't deadly, but that doesn't mean that it was good or safe. It could still be dangerous, harmful.

“...Are we still going to try?”

Ackerman blood could be just like Levi.

“I just told you that my blood might be making you sick.”

But Eren just… didn't seem to care.

“But it’s not like you’re sure. And what’s the worst that can happen? You said I won’t die, so if I end up throwing up again, we’ll figure out something then.”

So worried about bothering Levi, so nonchalant about Levi being a possible bother to him.

“You’re the one who told me you’re not going to back out of our deal. I already gave you an out, and you decided not to take it.”

Eren's grin was so bright. Nearly blinding.

Levi's mouth said annoying, idiot, shitty brat, because that's what he was used to. That's what he knew. But inside his chest, something… different was swirling. It was warm and hazy and made him feel… calm and stressed at the same time. What the fuck was that? Was he getting sick?

Levi just decided to push it to the back of his mind. He didn't like unknowns, but this… for some reason, he felt like for now, he might just be better off not knowing.

He'd be seeing Eren every day soon anyway. He'd have more time to think over this weird sickness then.

~7~

Levi just kept touching Eren without thinking. He didn't know how to stop himself, how to get back to the normal distance he kept with everyone else. His hands in Eren's hair were quickly becoming a habit, and he didn't know what to do about it.

Somehow there were always new things he didn't know with Eren.

“Why don’t you just stay my partner?”

Why?

Levi didn't know.

Why? Because Levi didn't know how long this tenuous friendship would last. Because they had started this with the intention of passing that duty onto Eren's two friends. Because… Because…

Because Levi had never thought about that. Being somebody's partner. Being Eren's partner. Because he felt like the idea of being a permanent blood bag should bother him but somehow it didn't sound so bad. Because he was getting that hazy sickness in his chest again and he didn't know why, and why the fuck would Eren want a vampire hunter to be his partner anyway?

“I doubt you really want that."

That was the best answer Levi could come up with and it wasn't an answer, really. It was a dodge, a way out of his own head.

He needed ways out because, unlike Eren, once Levi fell into that hole, he was very, very bad at bouncing back out.

As evidenced by Levi still being a stiff mess the next day too.

Luckily, the day after that, things were better.

“Have you ever thought about getting turned?”

The answer was no, although when he was a kid he may have considered it because of the strength and the power. But that was before his mother and he hadn't thought about it since. Even if he did, it wasn't like anyone would agree to help him turn.

"It's in everyone's best interest that I die someday."

Levi said it without thinking, really. It was a fact of life, one he'd known for a long time. The hunter line would end with him, and vampires would be much better off for it.

As long as he gets his final job done before he dies.

But Eren just looked so upset by Levi's words. He was staring, forlorn, at the table, brown hair spilling over his shoulders and obscuring some of his face. Green eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, and a barely held back frown—fuck, Eren looked so miserable.

Levi tried to lighten the mood with a little joke. Asked if the brat was going to miss him, just to tease, to get those green eyes to shine again.

“Yeah, maybe I fucking will!"

The hazy sickness came back fast and strong except there was less of the stress and more amusement, more warmth. And Levi's heart throbbed in his chest, violent enough for him to feel it and recognize it. He was getting sicker, getting worse.

...Though, as far as illnesses go, this one didn't feel too bad.

What did feel bad was talking about his mother the next day.

“Is Kuchel your mom’s name?”

It should have been such an innocent question. It should have been something easy for Levi to answer, but instead, he tensed, his mind going dark. It was the anger, the frustration, that flared out first, and he practically shoved the vampire’s head onto his wrist to get Eren to shut up.

But then reason hit, and Levi loosened his grip on Eren’s hair. It wasn’t Eren’s fault. How many years had it been already? Fifteen, sixteen years since that day? He should be able to hear her name—his fucking restaurant is named after her for fuck’s sake. He should—no, he needed to be able to talk about it.

And what better time than now, with this vampire that inexplicably seemed to set him at ease?

But it was hard. It’s still hard. He distracted himself by focusing on Eren’s movements, Eren’s hands still wrapped around his forearm. Eren’s lips on his wrist, even after Levi signaled that he had enough blood for the day. Eren’s soft hair beneath his fingertips.

When it got harder, when Levi felt himself falling into that hole, when he struggled to breathe, Eren caught him—or his hand at least, as it fell away from Eren’s head.

When was the last time he talked about it—about her, about that day? When was the last time he thought about the details, when he mentioned how he felt at that time?

Why was he talking about it now, with Eren?

Levi looked up and met Eren’s eyes, seeing pain and shadows flickering through green eyes. Maybe he just hoped that Eren understood. Maybe, because his experience was so similar, Levi thought Eren could understand.

As it turns out, Eren understood better than Levi ever could have hoped he would.

“Tell me the best way to kill a vampire.”

~8~

Levi took Eren to his house. He learned how to fight in his uncle’s living room. Now he would teach Eren how to fight in his own living room.

It almost made Levi want to laugh, the ways he still followed in that man’s footsteps, despite everything that happened. He supposed he just didn’t know any other way of doing things. And well, and it wasn’t like the old guy was wrong about everything.

It was too bad he happened to be wrong about the important things.

When Levi threw Eren the knife, something clicked. Holding the knife in his own hand too. Something about it was… good. He was alert, his mind clear. It was like he was on a mountaintop, getting his first breath of clean air.

Except he was in a house in the suburbs, sparring with a vampire wielding a wooden knife.

“Try to kill me.”

“...What?”

Levi almost wanted to smile.

“Ten.”

“Levi—”

“Nine.”

Eren was holding his blade like that shitty-ass knife doll from a horror movie Isabel was into. Eren gripped the handle so tightly that his knuckles were white, the blade raised above his head and the would-be sharp end of the wooden knife facing himself.

Stiff. Impulsive. Easy to dodge. Not to mention his clumsy run—so much wasted movement.

Levi probably enjoyed taking Eren down a bit too much. But adrenaline—no, excitement, surged through his veins for even this poor excuse for a fight. He hadn’t had to hunt a single creature in over a year, and he had missed this, missed the movement, the—literal and figurative—stakes, the chance to use his strength.

“Again.”

Eren complained the whole time, but he refused to stop. Levi doubted that they were feeling equal amounts of enjoyment, but he assumed that Eren didn’t hate the whole ordeal, or it would have taken the brat much less than an hour to give up.

Though, it wasn’t as though Eren actually gave up.

The vampire was a blur of brown for a moment. Levi’s body registered what was happening before his mind did, his hands coming up to block as Eren raced towards him, fangs first—

And then Eren stopped, just inches from Levi. Eren covered his mouth with his hands, apologizing behind them and stepping away from Levi when the man tried to meet Eren’s gaze. And Levi didn’t understand why Eren looked so upset. That was a good reminder; Eren wasn’t a human. He had advantages that Levi didn’t, advantages that Eren could use to get the revenge he desired. Levi tried to tell Eren as much, tried to tell him that this was good, that this was how they should practice from now on.

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t—I don’t want to practice like that.”

It happened so fast. Eren was standing, looking shaken but otherwise alright. Then green eyes squeezed shut, and he trembled, dropping into a low crouch on the floor. Levi followed him down, trying to gauge what was wrong, what was happening.

“Eren?”

A muffled whimper slipped from behind Eren’s hands. His eyes squeezed shut tighter, hunching over, curling in on himself. Levi didn’t understand, but concern flooded every ounce of him, and he quickly moved closer, hands held helplessly out in front of himself, at a loss of what to do. He wasn’t—this wasn’t what Levi was meant for. A pat on the head or on the arm was one thing, but it didn’t seem like that would suffice for this, and oh shit there were little drops spilling from Eren’s closed eyes—

“Eren!”

Eren’s eyes opened, glossy, downcast. His hands slowly fell to his sides.

“I don’t—I don’t want to fight like that. Like them.”

“Okay,” Levi said, and his voice came out quiet, gentle, more so than he’d ever heard it. It startled him.

Eren mumbled more worried words. His eyes were looking at Levi, but they were clouded, like he wasn’t truly seeing the man in front of him, and fuck, Levi needed to do something—

And all of a sudden Levi’s arms were around Eren’s back, tugging him closer, pulling him to rest against Levi. Levi felt hands at his waist, fists grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. Levi just held him tighter, pulled him closer, as close as he could.

“Am I a monster?”

Eren—lively, energetic, idiotic Eren—his voice was so quiet.

No, of course not. Fuck no, a million times no.

What Levi managed to actually say out loud was only marginally calmer than that.

Eren sagged against him, and Levi could feel a face nuzzling into his shoulder, the hands at his waist pulling even more of Levi’s shirt into those fists.

“Don’t wanna be like them,” Eren mumbled.

“You won’t be. You won’t be.”

Levi swore to himself right there that he would make sure of it. Whatever that took.

~9~

When Eren pulled away from him, Levi didn’t really want to let him go. He let Eren move back—of course, he did, he had to—but it took all he had not to hang onto Eren’s shoulders and keep him there.

This was… not good.

This… whatever the fuck it was, it was… It was a lot. It was overwhelming. Levi nearly felt like he didn’t have any control over himself, and he didn’t know what was fucking causing it. He had never felt anything like it before.

Levi clenched his hands into fists. Whatever it was, he had to put it away. He needed control, he needed stability, at least for right now. Whatever this fucking feeling was—currently manifesting itself as a wave of relief due to Eren’s now dry eyes—was something Levi would have to worry about later. He had bigger things to worry about than the mess going on in his chest.

Like whether or not Eren still wanted to do this whole revenge thing.

And Eren said that he did still want to. With no vampire abilities. No powers. No advantages. Like a fucking idiot.

Levi didn’t know how they were going to manage this, but he’d just have to make it work.

And then, for some reason, Eren was thanking him.

“You really… I mean… I don’t know how to explain it except to say that you’re basically spoiling me. I haven’t done anything in return. If there’s anything I can do—”

“No,” Levi said immediately. The word came out without his own permission. Levi looked away, trying to get a grip on his own fucking head again.

“No?”

“You don’t need to—” Fuck, what was he even trying to say right now? “I’m not doing this just for you to pay me back later.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

Good fucking question. Levi didn’t really know why he was doing anything these days. All he knew was that he just kept doing things for Eren, thinking about Eren, trying to help Eren without any fucking reason why. And it felt so different from when he was with other people. Levi just didn’t get it. If Levi were anyone else, doing the things he was fucking doing, he’d think the person was nothing better than another lovestruck idiot—

Shit.

Wait.

No.

That wasn’t—

If it was anyone else but Levi. Levi wasn’t—Levi never—Levi didn’t do love. It was not on his radar. Love was the bullshit that had Furlan pulling into his driveway at midnight to complain about some terrible date. It was the stuff that made Petra lean over his shoulder in the kitchen to whisper gossip about her co-workers’ romantic relationships. It was irrational nothingness that Levi never wanted any part of. It was something so lacking in his life that Isabel started slipping articles—which she looked up and printed out, the little shit—about being aromantic into his mailbox. (She pretended it wasn’t her, but Levi’s not an idiot, and the only other extreme meddler in his life—Hanji—would just have told him about the concept face to face).

Love—romantic love—was not something Levi felt. Ever. End of discussion. Levi just related to Eren, saw himself in Eren. Levi wanted to help him the same way he wanted to help everyone who currently worked at Kuchel’s Kitchen. That was it.

When Levi began to explain that, Eren had already switched topics. Typical brat.

“I just remembered that we were doing this once a day thing to make sure I don’t get sick again.”

“And?”

“And,” Eren said, grinning as brightly as always, “I haven’t been sick once this week.”

For a moment, Levi didn’t get it. Then a swell of relief and warmth and that weird hazy feeling in his chest filled him, and he couldn’t even hold back the small smile coming to his lips if he wanted to.

“Well... I guess I’m not bad for you after all.”

Eren’s face was red again. Levi did his best not to read into it.

Before long, their conversation shifted again.

“...You’re sure you don’t mind?”

It felt silly to Levi that Eren was asking Levi if he was alright with Eren's murder plans after Levi spent an entire hour sparring with him in preparation for that exact event. Eren tried to explain how Eren's murder for revenge could possibly be less noble—or whatever the hell it was that Eren was trying to prove—than Levi's murder for pay. Levi was eager to let the subject drop. There was no point in asking if Levi was okay with it. Killing was his life for as long as he could remember.

And remembering only made him bitter. He didn't want to be bitter with Eren.

Well, that thought backfired on him anyway. Minutes later Eren called Levi out on his gossiping habits—it wasn't like he wanted to, those idiots gossiped around him and Levi has fucking ears—and Levi remembered talk about Eren being his type and Furlan's thoughts of Levi being sweet on Eren and—

Levi lost it. Full-on lost it. And when Levi loses it, he gets worse than bitter. He gets mean.

And the fact that he could hear Eren laughing his ass off outside the door didn't make things any better.

~10~

Levi was not Eren. He didn't bounce back from things, not easily. So when Eren arrived at the restaurant, grinning at Levi like a smug little shit and asking if the vampire hunter was still embarrassed, it took all of Levi's self-control not to snap at Eren all over again.

Though telling Eren that Levi would let him starve if he didn't drop it is probably considered snapping at him.

Well, Eren's consistent grin made Levi cool off pretty quickly anyway.

They talked about revenge again, for a bit. To make sure that it was something Eren still wanted to do with his own hands. Levi could do it for him. That had been Levi's original plan anyway. He couldn't just let a couple of ferals get away.

It was cute for a second, the fact that Eren was still worried about Levi's possible distaste for murder—Levi, the person who's been training to kill vampires since before his age had double digits. But only for a second.

“I was seriously worried about that shit! Made me feel more like a monster than I already am.”

Monster. There was that word again. Did Eren really see himself that way? What, because he was considering committing a crime—a crime against two real monsters that not only killed his mother but condemned him to a life of blood-sucking?

Eren was not the monster in the room.

“Being a vampire does not make you a monster.”

Levi didn’t know how to make it any clearer to Eren.

“Yes, it does! I’ve been taking your blood every day for a week straight—”

Taking. Is that how Eren saw it? Like he was taking, stealing, depriving Levi of something. Levi thought of Eren’s words from the day before. Eren was so focused on reasoning. It wasn’t about the number of kills to Eren, it was the motivation—as if killing to protect was more justified than killing for revenge. For Levi, motivation was irrelevant. It was how many, how often, and occasionally who. ‘Why' didn’t matter to Levi. A life is a life. A death is a death.

But if what Eren cared about was intention—

“Taking? No, I give you my blood.”

That was fine. Because Eren had noble enough intentions and a current body count of zero. He was innocent, even according to both of their definitions.

“Then what does make a monster?”

Try being an Ackerman.

“The only people I consider monsters are the pigs who take innocent lives without remorse.”

A life is a life. A death is a death. But being completely innocent isn’t what makes a human a human. Humans are fucked up. They’re cruel. But they have limits.

Monsters don’t. That’s the difference.

When Levi’s words didn’t feel like they were getting through, he moved closer, layering his hands over Eren’s. Maybe he couldn’t convince Eren otherwise within one night. But that wasn’t what Levi was trying to achieve right now. He just wanted to ease Eren, at least for now. He wanted to help the king of bouncing back do what he did best.

“Look, maybe I can’t convince you to not see yourself as a monster. But know that I don’t see you as one, alright brat?”

Who was Levi even kidding at this point? Hazy sickness? Yeah, right. Levi had it fucking bad for Eren, and it was only getting worse every moment they spent together.

All he could do was hold Eren close and hope that this wouldn’t all blow up in his face.

“Why do you do it?” Eren asked. “If stuff like this isn’t what you do often?”

I wish I knew.

“Why do you think?” Levi asked.

Of course, Eren was even more clueless than Levi. But Levi was given hope. Brief, heart-wrenching hope, in the form of his blood tasting sweeter on Eren’s tongue.

All those stories his mom told him in an attempt to get him to see “the good side of vampires” better not have been lies.

~11~

The stories were lies.

Well, not lies exactly. But Levi now had every reason in the world to doubt their truth. He had called Erwin as soon as Eren left, unable to stop himself, and—

“Oh… My friend, I… Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but…”

Legends. Fucking fairytales. Soulmate-based fairy tales. Soulmates? That was beyond absurd. Soulmates, but the only way you can find them if one of you happens to become a vampire and then happens to ingest the right person’s blood and happens to notice a change in flavor. What, so only vampires could have soulmates, and the rest of humanity was just fucked? Absolute bullshit, that’s what the story was. Fuck.

When his mom told him that story, it was supposed to be a definite thing. Blood tasting sweet equals love. End of story. It wasn’t like he was mad at her for having the story wrong, but shit, it took a lot just for him to get his hopes up in general. For it to end like this—

Levi decided to block it out. He refused to think about it. If he thought about it, it would just fuck him up. He was not going to dig himself into that hole. He needed to take a page from Eren’s book and learn to not let everything bog him down—

“Must you keep him in the dark about even this?”

If Levi was sixteen again, he would have committed a murder right fucking there. But he was older now. He was capable of reigning himself in. If Levi could just change the subject, everything would be fine.

“Tell me what?”

He just needed to—

“I should think you have plenty of reasons to tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

If Levi could just—

“Vampires are myths too, Levi.”

—Change the fucking subject!

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Eren asked.

Levi was not Eren. He did not bounce back. He snapped. And he was getting dangerously close.

Erwin could sense it. He stopped pressing so intensely, and he found a way to make his exit. Levi thanked his lucky stars that he’d gone to Erwin for advice and not Hanji. He knew that Hanji had always wanted to know what it was like to see him lose his cool.

But then Eren was trying to follow Erwin out. Fuck, Eren was going to ask. Levi needed to stop him, to prevent him from going because Levi really couldn’t handle any more than this—

“What? Are you going to tell me what the hell all that was?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“Doesn’t concern me?”

Stop. Levi needed to stop this, stop his head, stop his blood from boiling. He didn’t want to snap at Eren. It wasn’t Eren’s fault. It would be stupid to snap at Eren when the whole reason Levi was upset was because of how much he cared—

“If it’s nothing, then tell me about it.”

“No.”

If he could just get Eren to drop it. He’d tell the brat anything, just not this. Anything but this. He needed Eren to drop it. If Eren could just drop it—if Levi could change subjects—if they could talk about something else, anything else—please, Eren, fuck just drop it—

“You’re just going to say no without telling me why?”

Because even feeling what he felt without telling anyone was a new level of vulnerability hell for Levi. He couldn’t let Eren know, he couldn’t—Eren would have so much power over him—in this fucked up state of mind he could be crushed with a single ‘no’ and Levi was not Eren, he could not bounce back—

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

“But why won’t you?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Somehow Eren knew just what to say, where to touch, to make things hit the hardest for Levi. Usually, that was good. Usually, that was him doing something that made Levi feel for him, that made Levi smile.

“Did I do something wrong? Do you—” Eren’s voice breaks. “Don’t you trust me?”

Right now it just hurt. And it hurt worse because Levi knew he was being an irrational little shit, because he knew that he was hurting Eren too, and fuck, fuck, fuck—

...Eren apologized first. Levi didn’t want that. He hadn’t wanted them to argue at all. He cradled Eren’s hands in his, raising them to his chest.

“Look, I really didn’t—It’s been a long day. I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Levi doesn’t bounce back. He snaps.

“I just… I got upset when you didn’t tell me. It felt like…” Eren trailed off.

“Like I didn’t trust you?”

Levi snaps. But as years have gone by, he’s learned to fix what he breaks.

“Eren. I… I do. I trust you. I trust you more than—”

More than I should. More than I’m probably capable of expressing to you.

“But you’re going to have to wait for me to grow a pair before I can explain to you what Erwin and I talked about, alright?”

It would be far out of Levi's comfort zone, but… If it was for Eren, maybe he could. Just… not yet. Maybe not for a long time.

For now Levi could just try to enjoy the feeling. And there were plenty of things to enjoy, if he chose to focus on them. Eren’s embarrassment every time Levi caught him daydreaming while burying his face into Levi’s neck—which really didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have. Eren’s exaggerated reactions to all of Levi’s teasing. Eren’s blushing, Eren’s smile, Eren’s grouchy little pout.

Eren’s determined gaze when he set his mind towards something. Eren’s spirit. Eren’s strength.

Levi wanted it all, wanted to protect it, to preserve it. And for what they both wanted… Levi would have to risk things if he could even dare to hope to protect Eren. Levi… Levi needed to be able to replace what he was going to risk.

“I need to meet those friends of yours,” Levi said. “The ones you came with the night we met.”

Levi wanted Eren to keep smiling. And, if he planned things right, he could manage it. But… But then Levi wouldn’t…

No. He didn’t need to think about that right now. For now, he could just pretend they’d get through everything unscathed. He would enjoy right now so that he wouldn’t even think about regretting things later.

~12~

It was supposed to be a good day. An easy day. They were just going to spar. He was going to teach Eren how to actually hold his knife and their day would go on like usual.

But Eren recoiled from him. He launched himself away from Levi when the man was just trying to get close, and Levi didn’t know why. Was it his hunting closet? Did the garlic on his coats and cloaks rub off on him? Levi knew that he didn’t have vampire senses, but he thought that he would have noticed if the garlic scent clung to him like that… Still, there was no other immediate concern that came to mind, and Eren was being unusually tight-lipped about it all.

It was… strange. Eren, expressive as he was, was normally someone that Levi could pretty much read like an open book. When he was angry, sad, conflicted, joyful, it all showed on his face, and all Levi had to do was piece together the reasoning behind it. Granted, there were times when Levi didn’t know, but this was… This was extreme. Everything about Eren was just screaming distress, but this was the first time that Levi was at a complete blank as to what the origin was. He felt like when Eren was wearing his emotions this openly, he should be able to know.

But Levi didn’t. They had been talking as usual, teasing each other as usual. Things only changed when Levi got close. And the only thing different about Levi was (possibly) the lingering scent of garlic.

Maybe Eren just didn’t want to say anything about the scent—which was weird, Levi would have thought that Eren would tease him for smelling like shit—and if that was the case, Levi wasn’t going to force the words out of him.

So, Levi decided to just shower.

And then the shitty brat laughed at him. Laughed so hard that he would have fallen on the floor if Levi hadn’t caught him. And while that annoyed Levi, he would have let it slide if Eren hadn't said—

“Thank you for worrying about me, but—” Eren was still laughing, the little shit. “You must really like me, huh?”

You must really like me. The words rattled around in Levi's empty head until his entire body went rigid. How did Eren—Did somebody tell him—no, nobody could’ve, but then—how did he know?

It was worse that it was a joke too. This feeling that Levi had been grappling with for the past couple of weeks, feelings that he didn't know could exist within him, that he didn't want to believe in, and that he only recently learned to accept—all that just played for a fucking laugh?

Did Eren know? Did he think this was just another one of those things he could tease Levi about and everything would be fine?

"I, uh… I was joking."

Of course, he was.

"Oh. Good."

What else was Levi supposed to say?

But then he heard Eren's gasp. He looked at the vampire struggling to push himself off the floor, and he saw trembling, watery eyes, a bottom lip firmly trapped between Eren's teeth, and shit, it all just looked like heartbreak—

“No, fuck, wait—”

This, Levi could read. This, Levi could understand. Eren, the fucking idiot that he is, of course, he would use a joke of all things to try and gauge Levi's feelings. Of course, now he thought the opposite of what was true and fuck, how could Levi fix this—

“Eren.”

“Look, I know we were supposed to be practicing, but I really just want to go home right now.”

“Please, just let me explain—”

“I really need to go home.”

“Eren—”

He needed to figure something out, and he needed to do it now because Eren was leaving, and Levi didn't want him to leave. Not like this. Not without knowing the truth. This wasn't when Levi wanted to do this, but if it would fix things… if it would keep Eren here, for just a moment longer, just long enough for them to clear things up, then—

“Eren, I’m in love with you.”

But… Eren ran. He ran as if those words were the last straw.

Levi… Levi must have read things wrong again. Said the opposite of what Eren wanted to hear.

Got his hopes up again. For nothing.

At least now, he knew for certain. At least now, he…

Who was Levi fucking kidding? He couldn't pull a bright side out of this. He tried to let decisions go, tried not to regret things he couldn't change, but…

Levi couldn't help wishing he'd done something different this time. Just this one time.

~13~

"Levi… Are you okay?"

Levi didn't look up from the sink at the sound of Isabel's voice.

"What makes you ask?"

"Oh, you know… Just the pile of broken plates next to you."

Levi glanced over at what was supposed to be the clean dishes rack. He didn't remember breaking any dishes, but he also didn't remember driving to work or anything else that happened since Eren—

"I'm fine."

Levi slamming a glass so hard into the dish rack that it shattered probably wasn't the most convincing thing he could have done.

"Right…" Isabel said, inching closer to him and gently guiding him away from the sink. "Why don't you take a break for a second? Furlan and I can handle things until you're...calmer. Okay?"

"I told you I'm fine—"

"Levi," Isabel said firmly, "we still need to serve customers tonight. Which means we still need plates. Which means you need to take a break until you cool off. Okay?"

Levi wanted to argue, but he was already feeling exhausted again. He just wanted to be alone.

"...Okay."

Isabel frowned up at him and patted him on the arm once before slipping out of the kitchen and getting back to work.

Levi doesn't remember what he did until Furlan came to get him. He remembers standing over the stove when the kitchen door opened. He remembers his friend saying there was some kind of "incident" happening outside. So Levi walked out of the restaurant in a daze, expecting to break up a fight—

“And then Levi goes up to little Isabel and says…Fear not, small child, for I have arrived to save the day!"

"What kind of fucking nonsense are you spreading now?" Levi snapped.

And then he saw Eren.

He remembers talking with Isabel, shooing her back into the restaurant, but whatever he said came out purely on autopilot. His mind was on Eren, even as he fought with himself to keep his gaze away, to not be swayed, to not get his hopes up again—

“Uh, Levi?”

Levi didn’t want to get his hopes up again.

“Look, I, um… I really… I mean, I’m really, really sorry about… about yesterday.”

“...You’re sorry.”

So Levi thought about all the reasons Eren would be there on a day they had never planned on, just a few hours after Levi sent him messages detailing the ways they could avoid seeing each other as much as possible. What reasons would Eren have to come? What reason would Eren have to apologize after running away?

“Y-yeah. I—especially because I ran—no, um, especially because of how I feel. Because, uh, I—”

Why would he bother attempting to force out words that he clearly wasn’t comfortable saying yet? Why, just because Levi said them? Because he felt bad? Bullshit.

“Levi, the truth is—”

“Don’t say it just because I did. I don’t need that kind of pity.”

Levi didn’t want to hear it. He just wanted the conversation to be over with. He wanted to leave.

“The truth is that I don’t know if I love you!”

It was the most sincere Eren’s voice had sounded so far, so Levi stopped. He stopped and waited for Eren’s truth. Levi didn't really want to hear a rejection, but if it would give things a smoother ending between them then—

“The truth is that I don’t know what I feel about you. Because I feel a lot of things, all kinds of things, all at once.”

...Huh?

“The second we met, I felt something when I looked at you. And honestly, my dumb ass was pretty sure it was fear.”

Fear? Levi didn't even try to—never mind, not important. Eren felt something towards Levi from the moment they met? That was—no, Levi needed Eren to clarify that—

“And I don’t know when I stopped being nervous around you, but I do know that I look for you when I’m nervous now. I reach for you, I try to grab hold of you. I’m not scared anymore, Levi. Being near you gets rid of my fear. I mean, yeah, sometimes I get anxious, but it’s only because I’m so desperate to keep you with me. I don’t want to mess anything up—”

Levi's brain was overloading. All this romantic sappy shit that made Levi's heart squeeze like a water balloon beneath a metal clamp was too much. Levi didn't know how to—Levi had never—No one had ever said anything like this to Levi. No one but Eren. He needed Eren to slow down, for a second at least—

“And you—you’re just—you’re there for me, and you say all these things that drive me crazy, and it’s like I’m always, always thinking of you even when I shouldn’t be. I want to impress you, I want you to think of me just as much as I think of you, and fuck, I haven’t even talked about how hot you are yet.”

All of that—all of that shit—that passionate starry-eyed nonsense that had Eren looking at Levi like the little bitter man was the fucking sun—

How… How was it that they felt almost exactly the same?

“What I’m trying to say is that if all these things I’m feeling about you are love, then I love you, Levi.”

If they really did feel the same…

“Sorry,” Eren said, “you were going to say something?”

Then Levi wasn't going to let Eren run away again.

"You drive me fucking insane."

Insane in a good way. And in a bad way. Because fuck, if Levi was unsure if his feelings before, he was certain of them now. Certain of the way they drew new sides out of him, new feelings, new emotions. Certain of the way they drove him crazy with stupid worries, with regret, with concern. Certain of the way they put his heart through the fucking wringer.

And Levi was certain that he wouldn't give up these feelings for anything, despite all that.

You're stuck with me now, was the unspoken promise Levi sealed against Eren's lips.

~14~

Levi wasn't great at all this romance stuff. The confessions, the purposeful sweet talk. But kissing? Kissing was no longer uncharted waters.

...Well, that's what Levi thought at first anyway.

For Levi, kissing was a chore. A detour from the main event that he had to take almost every time due to his partners' preferences. He knew what to do, and he had gotten good at it, but it never really meant anything or made him feel differently.

And then he kissed Eren.

Levi refuses to say all that cheesy shit about sparks flying or whatever, but… It was different. It was definitely different.

He felt hot. Boiling heat inside his chest, searing through him from the inside out. It propelled every one of his movements, keeping his hand on Eren’s shirt so that the tall brat would stay low enough for their lips to meet. His free arm slipped around Eren's waist and everywhere Levi touched seemed to make Eren gasp and tremble, and fuck, this was playing with Levi’s patience.

Eren’s hands were on his waist, and he could feel the eager vampire pressing himself closer, parting his lips, and Levi certainly wasn’t going to stop him—

Levi briefly registered pain on his bottom lip, faint enough that Levi could honestly equate it to an itch, and then Eren was pulling away. Levi opened his eyes and was met with vivid green panic. Levi just huffed a little sigh as he moved to slide his fingers into Eren’s long hair. Eren’s hands at his waist retreated a little, not letting go, but no longer open palms against his sides.

Levi nearly wanted to laugh, but he could still have a bit more fun with this if he didn’t.

“Eren.”

Eren’s eyes widened again before he dropped his gaze, his entire upper half drooping. Levi could nearly imagine a pair of brown dog ears on Eren’s head, remorsefully pinned back.

...Maybe Erwin was onto something with that whole “puppy” thing.

“I know I told you to bite me if I didn’t want this…”

Levi tilted Eren’s chin up with his fingers before wiping a stray drop of blood from his lip. He hadn’t meant for the action to stir up anything, but they were close enough that he saw Eren’s pupils dilate, and Levi almost had to physically bite back a smile.

Well, well. He’d keep that in mind for later.

“...but something tells me you were just being an overeager little shit.”

Eren was still staring at the bloody smudge on Levi’s lips.

“I… I forgot I had fangs for a second there.”

“Only you would. Dumbass.”

They goofed around for a little while longer until Levi decided they should call somebody to actually work before the restaurant fell apart. Petra arrived soon after that, and then they were back in their usual spots in the breakroom, ready to talk.

Well, Levi was ready until Eren was touching his own lips like he was silently begging for Levi to kiss him again.

And you're supposed to give a puppy a treat when they beg, right?

It was so easy for Levi to just get… absorbed by Eren. The sound of his voice, the feel of his breath and his lips… His skin beneath Levi's fingers… His soft hair brushing against Levi's cheeks...

His goofy-ass grin against Levi's lips.

Kissing Eren was… nice. It was sharing a smile, sharing joy. It was a confession. It was confirmation. It was a reminder. It made something warm settle at the pit of Levi's rib cage with every instance. Something warm and gentle and nice. Something like comfort. Like Levi's favorite blend of tea on a winter evening.

Kissing Eren was nice. So was touching Eren, being near Eren. It was all nicer now, knowing Levi's own feelings, knowing that Eren felt the same.

If Levi thought those words could get through his throat unchanged, he would have said them out loud then, in that quiet moment between the two of them.

“Don’t stare too long."

It took a moment for Levi to register how long they had been sitting there in silence, how long he had been absent-mindedly admiring Eren's face as his mind wandered. His throat swelled for a moment, shame clogging his windpipe and making him struggle to breathe. But Eren was just smiling at him, green eyes brimming with affection that probably matched Levi's.

Levi didn't have to be ashamed. He didn't have to be embarrassed. He didn't need to pretend that he wasn't staring at Eren, not when Eren was also staring at him.

But this was… new. It would definitely take some getting used to.

Especially when Eren's smile was slowly morphing into the grin of a smug little shit.

Levi forced their conversation back to what it was supposed to be: a moment for them to ask each other whatever questions they had. Levi himself had a few questions about Eren's preferred boundaries, but in all honesty, there was only one real question that he desperately wanted the answer to.

But Eren asked to go first, so Levi let him.

"What was that thing you were talking about with Erwin? When I walked in and you didn't want to tell me?"

Levi relived all his shame within a single instant. Of course. Why didn't he expect Eren to ask him about that soulmate fucking bullshit? He felt even stupider about it now, now that he and Eren had come to like each other the normal way. Of course, that was the first thing Eren asked. Of course, that was the start of their whole conversation.

"Wha—What's wrong?! Are some questions off limits? I can change mine—"

Eren’s panic only made Levi feel worse, so he forced the words out of his throat, eager to get the conversation over with and blow through the pain. This was exactly the sort of thing Eren liked to tease Levi over, so Levi waited for Eren to joke and prod and laugh at Levi for getting his hopes up at sky level before subsequently stomping them beneath his feet. Levi was just waiting for it, for that shit-eating grin that he knew would come—

...But it didn’t. It didn’t come.

“Personally, I don’t think we should take being soulmates off the table—”

Levi thought that sentence would be the start of it, the start of the laughs and the bullshit.

“But.” Eren was holding Levi by the hand. “Either way, Levi, I love you. I’m choosing you, myth or no myth. So you don’t have to put your hopes into some old legend. Just leave all those hopes with me.”

Levi… Levi had been waiting for ridicule that never came. He had braced for it, expected it—shit, if the tables were turned, Levi might have laughed at Eren—but it never came.

Eren was still holding his hand, anchoring him. Somehow… Somehow Eren knew that this would have fucked Levi up if he had joked about it. Because Eren usually has no problem messing with Levi until the vampire hunter is glaring daggers at him. But this time Eren chose not to. He chose to listen, to comfort. He chose to support.

Levi… Levi could learn a lesson or two from this insufferable, kind brat. He wanted to, so that could do this for Eren too, when Eren needed it. Levi wanted to be good at this. This whole being in love thing.

Because Eren deserved somebody who could be good at this.

“Eren.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m… new at this.”

Eren smiled in that soft way that made Levi’s heart expand and his chest squeeze at the same time. He had Levi by the hand, gave the appendage a little squeeze. It made Levi realize how tightly he was hanging onto Eren. Eren, the one of them with newly acquired super strength, was the one with the gentler touch, at least right now. Levi tried to loosen his grip, but he kind of just wanted to hang on even tighter.

“That’s okay. Me too—I mean, I’ve never felt this strongly—”

“No,” Levi said. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt anything. Nothing like this has ever…”

Levi has friends—family that are dear to him. He has people he would never want to lose, that he would protect with his life. What he doesn’t understand is how quickly Eren joined those ranks. He doesn’t understand what it is about the vampire that puts him in a separate category from the other people he loves.

And with his family, Levi can be as much of a little fucking gremlin as he wants. He can be a piece of shit, an asshole, a person they maybe only want around out of obligation—

But Levi wants to do more, to be more for Eren. With Eren. He wants—fuck, he just wants Eren to stay.

He could’ve said that. Maybe he should have. Maybe he will someday. But at that moment, Levi just said—

“I’m going to fuck this up sometimes.”

“No, Levi—”

“I’ll fuck it up. So, I…”

Levi really hoped he wasn’t going to regret saying this.

“When I do, I… I hope you’ll choose me again.”

Hope. He’d been feeling that a lot recently, hadn’t he? But with hope… Whenever Levi allowed himself that much it was almost always followed by—

Before Levi could even think the word ‘regret,’ Eren’s arms were around him.

“I will. I definitely will.”

Levi decided that he would believe in those words. At least for now.

It took them a little while to get back on track. When they restarted their question session, it was Levi’s turn. He asked the one thing he was truly desperate to know.

“Why did you run after I told you I loved you?”

He tried to stay neutral while asking, even though it still hurt, even though the wound was still fresh. He didn’t need to be hurt by it; they had already admitted their true feelings. But Levi… Levi was not good at bouncing back and he didn’t want any bad blood to linger. If he could just understand, then maybe that’d be enough for him to let it go—

“I… don’t know.”

Oh.

Levi… Levi didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m sorry,” Eren said, and his head lowered. Absentmindedly, Levi imagined the ears again, the drooping puppy tail. “I just—sometimes my head just… It-it gets stuck, and I can’t get out of it.”

Oh.

It happened to Eren too?

“I’m sorry,” Eren said just as the gears in Levi’s brain started turning again. “I-I don’t know what—I… I was just—I thought that you were rejecting me, and I just… I don’t know. I heard you, I know I did, but I just couldn’t—it was like I didn’t actually hear you, or I couldn’t process it because I was already gone, I was already stuck—”

It happened to Eren too.

“It’s like… Like driving a car with no brakes, like I can’t stop—I’m sorry, I don’t—I just—fuck—”

It was probably happening to Eren right now.

But that was okay. Levi’s been there before. He had been in that car with no brakes. While their minds weren’t the same, Levi could understand enough from Eren’s words, from the previous ways he was able to bring Eren out of his head.

What Eren needed was a reminder to take his foot off the gas.

When Eren told Levi about his mother for the first time, it was a touch that brought him out of that memory. So Levi’s hand found his way to the top of Eren’s head, and then he waited for a reaction, considering how there was a time when touch didn’t work, when that caused Eren to throw a table across the room.

Eren gasped but didn’t move away. The table was still in place. Levi added another hand and waited. The only reaction was quiet, trembling breaths. Levi shifted his focus to pulling Eren’s hands away from his head, frowning when he saw blood beneath Eren’s fingernails. If his head didn’t heal quick enough, Levi would let him drink a little extra. Just for today.

“I’m sorry—”

“No,” Levi said. Take your foot off the gas. “You don’t need to do that.”

“But I—”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

Levi continued slowly, methodically. He would try something, another touch, another movement, and then he would wait. If Eren was still okay, he would continue. He would do a little more.

What he wanted was to get Eren to look him in the eye. He wanted Eren to see that Levi wasn’t upset, wasn’t angry. Everything was okay. There was no need to apologize.

He wanted to help the king of bouncing back do just that. And sure enough, by the time Levi had calmed Eren down enough to have a brief conversation—

“Can we—can we still ask questions?”

“Are you sure?”

Eren nodded.

“I… want to know how old you are.”

Levi couldn’t hold back a laugh. The king had returned to his throne.

“I’m twenty-six.”

Levi had helped.

“Favorite color?”

“Black.”

Maybe…

“Favorite animal.”

“Hm… Horses.”

Maybe Levi had a chance at not fucking this up after all.

“Favorite hobby.”

“Do I get to ask you any questions?”

“Mmm… No.”

“Fine. Cleaning.”

Maybe… Maybe Levi could be alright at this would being in love thing.

“Favorite…”

Levi wasn’t sure how long they went on like that. All he knew is that by the time he sent Eren home, Levi was having a hard time biting back his smiles.

That vampire brat had changed him. Is changing him. Will continue to change him. And Levi…

Levi’s looking forward to it.

#ereri riren #ereri fanfic #ereri #riren #riren fanfic #fanfiction

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myaekingheart · 4 years ago

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138. Rock and Roru

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

TW for eating disorder talk. *flings fluff at you* ENJOY THE CAVITIES BECAUSE THESE TWO ARE JUST TOO DAMN CUTE. A little detour to expand on Roru and her team, based on what Sekkachi mentioned to Rei in the previous chapter. I promise all of this is going to come back around and tie into Rei and Kakashi's story, so just bear with me for a second haha

Roru Fumeiyo swung her legs back and forth idly as she gripped the edge of the bench in the hospital courtyard. The sun was far too bright and the birds were too loud. She heard the footsteps of a young couple down the hallway, laughing in disbelief as they swooned over their baby’s first ultrasound. Sick. How could anyone be happy on a day like this?

Roru tilted her head back against the back of the bench and huffed. She couldn’t comprehend how something could turn so sour so quickly. She almost scorned herself for having woken up that morning feeling optimistic. She should have known better. Now everything was ruined, and it was all Suisen Unohana’s fault.

Team Tekuno had been working hard to prepare for the chunin exams. With two weeks left before the written exam, they were really getting down to the wire.

“How about I take you girls out for some ramen after this?” Tekuno had asked during a brief respite. His students sprawled out across the grass, guzzling water and fanning their faces. It may have been hot, but they knew this would be nothing compared to the unforgiving summers in Sunagakure.

To say that Tekuno had been proud of his students was understatement. He had never expected these girls, so whiny and weak in the beginning, to become so strong and capable. They each had their own merits that, when combined, forged an indomitable alliance. Roru was agile and determined, Hoseki captivating and clever, and Suisen was smart and skilled. Tekuno couldn’t help but laugh, likening them to the famed Dorimuchimu led by Chikara-sensei. Tekuno had never paid much mind to the original all-girl squad in his youth, rolling his eyes at their sense of feminism, but now that he was in a similar position, he had garnered a newfound admiration for the old team. Especially with Roru under his wing, the younger cousin of Dorimuchimu’s Sekkachi Fumeiyo.

Leaping to her feet, Hoseki brushed the little blades of grass from her puffy pigtails and shot her sensei a sharp smile. “Just one more sparring match first” she insisted. “I want to feel like I’ve really earned it.”

A gleaming smile touched Roru’s lips as she nodded in agreement. Suisen rose slowly, cautiously. She was outnumbered and therefore had no room to protest. Chuckling, Tekuno took great pride in his student’s determination and agreed to let them have one more match. The girls crouched into their battle positions, awaited Tekuno’s signal, and then they were off.

A sharp smiel touched Roru’s face as she lunged for Suisen, not unkindly. Suisen’s violet eyes bugged in and out and she began to rock back and forth on her heels until suddenly, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she crumpled onto the ground. Roru froze. This was not her doing. After a split-second of initial shock, she whipped around to glare at Hoseki. “What did you do?!” she shouted.

Hoseki narrowed her eyes, offended at the insinuation. “Don’t look at me! I did nothing!”

Meanwhile, Tekuno raced in to intervene. Deep down, he knew that something was very, very wrong. He brushed Suisen’s long, dark hair out of her face, pressed a hand to her pale forehead, checked her pulse, frowned. “Go get a medic-nin! Now!” he insisted.

Hoseki gave a single nod before racing off, not an ounce of hesitation in her limbs. Roru watched her disappear and the weight of the situation slowly descended upon her young shoulders. Suddenly Suisen looked so weak, so helpless. What have I done?

She stood there completely paralyzed as Tekuno propped Suisen up in his arms, pulled a scroll from his utility belt, summoned a first aid kit, worked steadily to support her until the medics came. When they did, the quickly transferred Suisen’s limp body onto a stretcher and rushed her away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hoseki shouted at her, whacking her comrade on the shoulder. She grabbed Roru’s hand, tugged her onward. “Let’s go!”

The waiting felt endless as Roru and Hoseki sat slumped in the waiting room, watching Tekuno pace back and forth. And then Suisen’s parents arrived, her sweet mother hysterical and her father’s face stony with concern. Tekuno explained the situation to them and Shirayuki Unohana immediately broke down, her hands shaking and knees faltering. Without even a diagnosis, she was already hysterical. Her husband wrapped an arm around her in support and guided her to a seat by the window, assuring her that everything would be fine even though he wasn’t very convinced of it himself.

None of it made much sense to Roru. Suisen was fine, wasn’t she? It wasn’t like she was diseased. Perhaps it was just heat exhaustion, or exhaustion in general. They had been working extremely hard lately. Tekuno pursed his lips and wondered if this was his fault, if he had taken things too far. But the girls wanted to work hard. They were the ones setting the schedules, pushing themselves. Perhaps he should have regulated their training better, forced them to take a step back when they were on the verge of going overboard. Either way, he felt as if he, too, was to blame.

After nearly an hour, the doctor finally emerged from the emergency room. He was a rather tall and skinny man with angular features and taut lips. Nothing about him was very reassuring—he had the type of face from which you would expect to hear that you only had three weeks to live. A shiver ran down Roru’s spine.

The verdict? Anorexia.

A cold chill unanimously rushed through the lot of them. Suddenly it was as if the room was completely empty save for themselves, the walls closing in and the air ice cold. Dr. Gon explained that once Suisen had come to, they conducted various physical and pscyological examinations on her, and that was their conclusion. Anorexia.

Words like underweight, malnourished, anemia, and treatment all circulated through Roru’s head. It just didn’t make any sense. What reason did Suisen have to be anorexic, anyway? She had a happy home life with parents who loved her. She was smart and skilled and capable as a shinobi. She wasn’t even fat. It didn’t make any sense.

Dr. Gon continued to explain that due to how severe a case she was, they would have no choice but to admit her to their inpatient program for treatment. He then turned to Tekuno-sensei, muttering, “Which means your involvement in the chunin exams is now null and void.” Roru’s body went cold. She gripped the edge of her seat and suddenly the room began to spin.

After all her hard work, all her blood and sweat and tears, this was how it was going to end? No. Absolutely unacceptable. Roru cursed Suisen under her breath. How dare she do this to her. It just didn’t make any sense.

And what the hell was an inpatient program? Roru’s mind immediately flickered back to ghost stories told at the academy, of strait jackets and large needles and tranquilizers and the shrieks of the mentally insane. She couldn’t fathom picturing sweet, shy Suisen in a place like that.

“It’s really not that big of a deal” Hoseki said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “My cousin is up there in the same place as we speak.”

“You mean Kagami?” Roru asked. She had only met Kagami Kenshin a handful of times and each time she had, he gave her the creeps. He was a quiet, fidgety guy with mismatched eyes and a nasally voice. He constantly looked displeased with the world, so much so that he decided to spend all his time in others—that is, the worlds housed within books.

Hoseki nodded disdainfully. “That idiot’s head got all out of whack to the point where he tried to kill himself” she explained. “Mama found him passed out on the floor with a bottle of pills. And now he’s laid up in the same place that Suisen is. It’s just what happens when people are messed up in the head.”

Roru pursed her lips. She didn’t particularly appreciate Hoseki’s bluntness, but Roru knew that she did not know much better herself. After all, in the back of her mind all she could think about was how Suisen had ruined everything. None of them would be making chunin this year.

As Suisen’s parents struggled to comprehend this new information, and Tekuno attempted to console them, Roru took the opportunity to slip away from the chaos. She needed fresh air and distance. She needed to sit with her bare feet in the courtyard grass and implode in on herself, completely alone and defeated. She should have done something. She should have paid closer attention. She should’ve seen the signs. Roru pressed a hand to her anxious stomach and reminded herself that she was not much better.

No wonder she couldn’t realize that Suisen had a problem. Roru’s relationship with food wasn’t exactly perfect, either. But Roru was different. She didn’t restrict on purpose. She thought of her family, of the curse laid upon them, the hereditary stomach ailments that they all faced. Restriction was merely a precaution. She was intolerant, defective, diseased. Her actions were for the sake of her own health. And still, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was partially to blame. If Suisen saw the way she avoided food and followed suit. Girls their age were so easily influenced anyway. But Suisen was smarter than that. She could tell the difference, couldn’t she? Roru hoped that was the case. If not, then Suisen was a damned fool.

Roru paid no mind when the door from the hospital lobby creaked open. If it was Hoseki coming to nag her about sulking, she didn’t want to hear it. If it was Tekuno-sensei coming to explain things to her delicately, like she was a dumb child, she didn’t want anything to do with that, either. Instead, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a bizarre green blur. For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating and therefore had no other choice but to turn and view her interruptor fully.

“Hello! What are you doing out here all alone?” he asked. Standing before her was a boy, tall and lanky with his shiny black hair cut in the most ridiculous bowl cut she had ever seen. Even more ridiculous was the green lycra jumpsuit he wore, complete with vivid orange legwarmers. He looked straight out of an 80’s aerobics video. No doubt about it, this was Might Guy’s protégé.

Roru had nothing against Might Guy, truthfully. In fact, she was rather fond of him. He was bright and enthusiastic and got along splendidly with her family. She was sure Uncle Hakai had hoped at some point that he and Sekkachi would get together, but they all knew Sekkachi was not the type. Still, to see them together was always bizarre. Sekkachi was so blunt and cynical, whereas Might Guy was everything she was not. Roru wondered if the boy standing before her now was much the same.

Unfortunately, Roru was not in the proper headspace to show him the kindness he deserved. “What do you care?” she asked flatly, turning her gaze away from him.

“Because you look like you are upset! I know it is hard not to be upset in a hospital, but you are like a beautiful angel who deserves to be happy and smile!” the boy replied. Roru cocked a brow in confusion, though deep down she hated to admit that she was flattered. No one had ever said such kind things to her before. At a time like this, it felt especially nice. The boy then sat down on the empty seat beside her and continued, “Now please, tell me what is wrong so I might be able to make you feel better!”

“Y-you…would really do that for me?” Roru asked. “But I don’t even know you.”

The boy paused then, blinked despondently, and then bowed his head in deep apology. For a moment, Roru was certain that heavy tears were flowing down his cheeks. “Where are my manners?! I am so sorry, Guy-sensei! I have failed you in the art of introduction! My name is Rock Lee! It is an honor to meet you!” He quickly took hold of Roru’s hand then and planted a polite kiss on the back.

“Um, nice to meet you…Rock” Roru muttered, uncertain. All the while, she willed the blood away from her cheeks.

“Oh, no, you can just call me Lee!” he corrected.

“So…is your first name Rock or is your first name Lee?” she asked.

Rock Lee paused for a moment before replying, “My first name is Rock, and my last name is Lee! I can see how that would be confusing! But I prefer to just be called Lee!”

Who the hell names their kid ‘Rock’? Roru thought to herself. Looking at him now, though, she couldn’t say she was entirely surprised. The kid exuded bizarre. With a slight nod, she muttered, “I’m Roru. Roru Fumeiyo.”

“What a beautiful name!” Lee gushed. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl! There is nothing more fitting! Now, please, tell me why you are so sad!”

Roru pursed her lips, considered him. Why was he being so nice to her? Was he just vying for her affection, or did he truly, genuinely care about her feelings? At this rate, it didn’t matter. The fact that he was even expressing concern for her was enough to open the floodgates. Eyes locked on the ground, she explained the situation as best as she could to him. She could sense Lee’s face soften at her words, her tone weaving between concern and disappointment and anger. Once she was finished, there was a moment of silence and then Rock Lee spoke.

“Do not get down on yourself!” he exclaimed. “I know it is hard, and you may feel like you will never make chunin, but Guy-sensei has always told me that if you want something badly enough, then it is never out of your reach!” He clenched his fist at his chest and grinned proudly, his eyes glossy with passionate tears.

“That’s easy for you to say” Roru snarked. “I bet climbing the ranks has been a breeze for you.” If Might Guy’s work ethic was any indication, she was certain that Lee had inherited the same vigor and determination.

Lee, however, shook his head. “Do not be so quick to judge!” he reminded her. “Roru, do you know why I am at the hospital today?” Roru shook her head. She presumed he was visiting a sick friend or something. He certainly did not look sick himself, but then again neither did she. “A year ago, I took the chunin exams. I fought against Gaara of the Sand, who has since become the Kazekage. He was a very strong opponent, and we fought long and hard. I did my best to prove that I am worthy as a shinobi, even though I cannot use ninjutsu or genjutsu! But I pushed myself too far and suffered serious injuries. If it was not for Lady Tsunade and her amazing medical ninjutsu, I may never have been able to walk or fight again! I am at the hospital today because I had a follow-up appointment for the surgery, to make sure that everything is still healing properly. I am happy to say that my body is recovering very well!”

Roru dropped her gaze to the ground, took a moment to absorb everything that Rock Lee had told her. It was hard to believe that not so long ago, he had faced such incredible odds himself. He seemed so optimistic, so upbeat and bright. Where did he find the energy to be so hopeful? And on a related note, his story made her feel almost pathetic for being angry. Other people had faced much larger obstacles than she did. Who gave her the right to be pissed off about something so petty? Not to say that her disappointment had not been erased because it hadn’t—not in the slightest. She only felt even worse about it now.

“Roru” Lee then said, and she snapped her head up, her heart leaping into her chest at the way he spoke her name. “I am sorry that you have been met with a terrible setback. I am sorry that you are disappointed in what has happened. But I hope you do not blame yourself for what has happened to your friend.”

Sighing, Roru shook her head and asked, “What am I supposed to do, though?” She swept her thick bangs back out of her face, careful not to disturb the little white bow fixed at the base of the swoop. “I feel so helpless. I can’t wrap my brain around any of this, it just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Lee frowned, and there was something so unnatural about it. “I do not know” he admitted. “I am sure that your friend is fighting a battle right now that we may never be able to understand. All we can do is give her our youthful support!”

“Our youthful support?” Roru repeated.

Lee nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Guy-sensei told me that when people are in a dark place, they need as much light and love as possible to find their way out. And that is what we must do for your friend! We must shower her with all of our passionate support and let her know that we are here for her and want her to get better!”

Roru couldn’t help but laugh. The way Lee approached life, it was so innocent and straightforward. She had to admit, she appreciated that about him. And while she still was struggling to come to terms with Suisen’s situation, and the consequences of it all, Lee made her feel at least a little bit better.

“Hey, Lee?” she said after a stretch of silence. He raised his bushy brows as if to silently show he was paying attention. “Thank you.”

“Is it no problem at all!” Lee replied with an enthusiastic thumbs up.

“Let me make it up to you” she said. Turning to him, a small smile spread across her lips and finally, she was no longer able to restrain the blush touching her cheeks. “Do you like dango? My treat. We can share fighting techniques if you want. I can’t use ninjutsu or genjutsu either.” A small, sheepish giggle bubbled up from her chest and she couldn’t believe how nervous she had become around him. How anxious she was for him to say yes.

A wide grin spread across Lee’s face then as he leapt to his feet, took her hand in his, and together they departed from the hospital. And while the day had gone so bitter so quickly, as Roru walked alongside this strange and upbeat boy, she began to take comfort in knowing that maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of sweetness in it after all.

#kakashi x oc #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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