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dyns33 · 3 years

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Two Swallows made a Summer

So I did a Thomas Barrow x Phillip Villiers x Reader...

Y/N had always wanted to be a free woman. Emancipated. Strong.

But even though there were more and more women's rights movements in the country, it was still complicated.

When she was still very young, she had fled her family who wanted to marry her by force to the son of the neighbours.

Poor Victor wasn't a bad boy. He was going to inherit his parents' store, he was quite a handsome, kind and well-behaved young man.

But Y/N didn't want this life. She didn't want marriage. It was a prison, in which she would become her husband's servant, having to ask his permission to do everything, even work. And she should give him children.

No, really, thank you but no thank you.

It might seem paradoxical that she should become a maid.

But she couldn't find a better job and at least she was earning her own money, which she could spend however she wanted, and in her spare time she could do whatever she wanted without asking anyone's permission.

Besides, the Crawleys were really lovely people.

Well, their daughters were sometimes a little temperamental. And the grandmother could be very severe. And a lot of very bizarre adventures happened to them.

But at least Y/N was never bored, she always had a lot of work, a nice room, she was treated well and her colleagues were quite competent.

At first, she simply had some trouble with Thomas.

Everyone had some trouble with Thomas.

Mister Barrow was a complicated man. Secret. Cold and sarcastic. Sometimes mean.

It took her a while to realize that it was a defence mechanism for him, to avoid being seen as weak, manipulated and hurt. What he had been in the past.

But, knowing this, it was not to be answered with pity. On the contrary.

"You are late Y/N."

"Seems to me you're the one ahead Thomas."

"And once again I have to remind you that you're supposed to call me Mr. Barrow."

"In life we are supposed to do many things, and sadly it is not always possible for us to do all of them, Thomas. But in any case I am not late."

His shocked look made her smile. Then he resumed his neutral expression, which made her snicker, and suddenly, a true miracle, he snickered with her.

They became friends very quickly after that. It was quite by chance that she discovered his biggest secret. What he called his evil inclinations.

Y/N didn't see the problem with that. What someone did in the privacy of their bedroom was nobody's business. It was just a shame he couldn't be happy and himself the rest of the time. He just wanted to be free too.

"...Do you really think that ?"

"Sure."

"When Carson found out, he was mortified. And now he's using me to detect which servant or guest are like me."

"Mr. Carson knows ? And he didn't have a heart attack ?"

"Unfortunately no."

The decision to get married was obvious after a year together.

Of course, they didn't love each other. Not like this.

But Thomas respected her desire for independence, he treated her as an equal, and he expected absolutely nothing from her. She could do whatever she wanted without ever telling him, they wouldn't sleep in the same bed, not even in the same room, and they would only have children if one day they both wanted to, which was not the case at the moment.

Even though Thomas loved children, he loved his job even more.

For her part, Y/N had to allow Thomas to hide his secret. The announcement of the engagement surprised everyone, and at the same time, their union seemed obvious. They were perfect together.

When they were alone, Carson asked if Barrow was cured, or if he was taking advantage of poor Y/N's naivety. When he realized that she was absolutely not naive, and perfectly aware of Thomas' particular situation, he nodded and left.

The decision to accept a position with the Villiers was not so obvious.

"Villiers... Wait, that's not the name of the Duke with who you..."

"Yes."

"My God. And he wants you to work for him ?"

"I'm pretty sure Philip knows nothing about this job offer. It's his wife who's looking for a new valet. I believe Mrs. Crawley recommended me."

"Are you going to accept ?"

"I do not know."

The place was much better than the one Thomas occupied at Downton Abbey. Better paid. He would have more responsibilities, he would be recognized very quickly as a good employee, and maybe one day he would become a butler.

The letter indicated that he could perfectly well come with his wife, there would be a position for Y/N if she wished.

The Duke and Duchess had two children. Thomas really loved children.

Crowborough was truly a beautiful place.

Everything was perfect.

There was only one small problem. Philip.

"Maybe he's forgotten. Or forgiven. You've got nothing left to blackmail him with anyway. And you're married now. If you show him you've moved on, that you're behaving in exemplary valet who doesn't pay attention to him when it's not necessary, everything should be fine."

"You just described the perfect challenge for Philip, who hates when he's not the center of attention."

They accepted the offer, deciding to be optimistic.

As he had expected, the Duke was not at first really pleased to see his former lover arrive. Then, as Thomas had also foreseen, he was not happy to be ignored, flirting as soon as he could with his new valet.

According to Thomas, the Duke hardly changed. He was still just as handsome, if not even more handsome. Very elegant, very attractive. Dangerous too.

Philip was discreet when his wife or witnesses were present, but he didn't seem concerned about shocking Y/N.

For a while she thought it was because he knew that she knew. Since they were married, Thomas had been with several men, and it hadn't bothered her at all.

On the contrary, she was happy for him, smiling, wishing him to finally find the right partner and teasing him when he returned with a mark on his neck and red cheeks.

But it turned out that Philip didn't know anything.

"He thinks I'm making fun of you. And so he wants to make fun of you too. He's also hoping for a scandal when you find out."

"It's a bit risky isn't it ?"

"No, he's considering making a deal with you. Lots of money, for your silence, and to help you get a divorce. Then disgrace for me. That's a bit rough. I guess he's still mad at me for the letters."

"Well, we both know you're safe. Do you want me to pretend to fall into his trap, or do you prefer to ignore him ?"

"Hmm. Although I'd love to see his face when he realizes he got played, I'd rather focus on my work."

"Thomas Barrow, getting serious and responsible. Or rather old and boring."

"I'm asking for a divorce."

For several months, everything went well, which meant that Thomas and Y/N did their job, while Philip continued to have fun, resting his hand a little too long on the arm or on the back of his valet, whispering orders very close to his ear, and asking him to come and help him in his room when it was very late.

Sometimes Thomas came back with a strange expression. Without saying a word, Y/N patted the bed so that he came to sit next to her, he put his head on her shoulder and he let her cuddle him, massaging his neck.

He still loved Philip. Despite everything that had happened between them, of course he would always love Philip. He had been his first lover. They had shared something very strong. This situation made him suffer a lot.

In front of the Duke, Thomas did his best not to show anything, remaining calm and distant. But one word from Philip, and he might get down on his knees, kiss his hand, do anything for him.

In addition to this love, Thomas really appreciated the Duchess and their two children, who often asked to play with the valet.

It was probably for all these reasons that Thomas ran to their room after hearing a heated discussion between Philip and one of his guests.

"It's... He knows. They have... The Baron wants to blackmail Philip !"

"Like you with the letters ?"

"Worse ! He has pictures !"

Like Thomas, in the years they hadn't seen each other, Philip had had other partners. Many. And contrary to what he had sworn after burning the letters, he hadn't always been careful.

Now a former lover who needed money dared to come to his house to threaten him. If he didn't give him what he wanted, he would show the pictures to his family and the rest of society. Philip would be humiliated, ruined, he would lose everything and would certainly go to prison.

"...We have to do something." decided Thomas.

"Do you think he took the pictures with him ?"

"I don't know. But he doesn't live far away. I... I could get there quickly by train, while he's here. And you could search the room he's occupying while he's out."

"Do you think they'll let you search his home ? But what am I saying, you're Thomas Barrow, of course they'll let you, you'll come up with a ridiculous excuse."

He kissed her on the forehead, smiling, before taking his coat to run to the station in the middle of the night.

For her part, Y/N waited for the moment when the Baron left his room to sneak inside. She did not find the photos, but incriminating letters and documents. She burned the ones that concerned Philip, and kept the others, just in case. To make sure he didn't keep the photos on him, she then waited for him to take a bath to search his clothes. Nothing.

It wasn't long before the Duke noticed his 'favourite' valet was missing. Y/N invented something, saying that he had received a telegram from his aunt who was seriously ill and who asked him to come. He was sorry, but he would be back soon.

"Hmm." Philip mumbled, obviously not believing her. "Very well. But don't let that happen again."

"Of course your Grace. Thank you for your understanding."

When Thomas returned, he looked satisfied. He gave her a wink, indicating that the mission was accomplished.

The Baron noticed that some of his evidence was missing, but unable to complain, and not knowing who had taken it, he left Crowborough. For several days, Philip was very tense, probably imagining that the pictures were going to be made public. Then after a week, he understood that he risked nothing more, by receiving a letter congratulating him for having destroyed everything.

The Duke did not understand, before looking at Thomas and Y/N, remembering the unexplained departure of his valet. Then he understood.

The Barrows understood that he had understood, because his attitude changed. He abruptly stopped flirting cruelly with Thomas, only observing them from afar, with insistence and what looked like admiration. It was strange.

When his wife and the children wanted to go to London, he ordered Thomas to accompany them, because he was really very good with the little ones.

This worried Thomas.

"He's up to something."

"What do you mean ?"

"I know Philip. His wife's departure is a perfect opportunity for him to do whatever he wants. If he sends me with her, and not you... then you have to be careful."

"Oh, he's going to kill me and hide my body in the cellar ?"

"Nothing so dramatic. Philip hates getting his hands dirty. He will ask you to kill yourself, then he will get angry because you are not able to bury your own corpse. Please, be careful, he is vicious."

If Philip de Villiers, Duke of Crowborough, was vicious, then he hid it very well.

Even knowing his past, and having seen his manners since she worked for him, Y/N felt like meeting a new man as soon as they were alone.

Philip was nicer. More polite. Charming. Inviting her to sit down with him for tea and a chat. It was the first time they really talked.

To be fair to him, except when he was with Thomas, the Duke was not that bad most of the time. Good husband, great father, polite master, hard worker. Not much to say against him.

Being honest, he asked her if she knew about Thomas, and he was surprised to learn that she did. Surprised, but not disappointed. He thought it was wonderful.

"I have to say, I didn't know what to think when I found out Thomas was married. I thought it was unfair to you. And... I was a bit jealous to be honest. Now I'm still jealous, but for others reasons."

"Which ones, if I may ask ?"

"You two are clearly friends. Very good friends. With no secrets from each other. You respect and help each other. I wish I had that with someone. With my position, I can't trust anyone. I have too many responsibilities to allow myself to risk my reputation. My wife is a nice woman, but I don’t love her and I know how she would react if she knew. She gave me everything, money, beautiful children. Sometimes it's hard to pretend. To feel so alone."

"You are not always alone."

"Ah ! And you have seen the result. I was threatened in my own home. I have to thank you for what you and Thomas have done for me. What can I do to repay you ?"

"Nothing, your Grace. It was normal."

Philip looked skeptical. He hadn't expected this answer, convinced that the Barrows were going to ask him for something for their help, or that they had kept evidences against him.

Then, while cleaning his office, Y/N found Thomas's letters. She thought it was a coincidence at first, but later realized that Philip had left them there for her to see.

When he had told her about their relationship, Thomas was certain that Philip had burned all the letters long ago, long before he came to Downton to destroy the ones he had.

It was touching to find out that was not the case. That this relationship had really been important to the Duke, to the point that he retained those memories, even after Thomas tried to use his letters against him.

Y/N left them on the desk. Again, the Duke was surprised.

"I thought you would have got them back."

"Why ?"

"I could harm your husband with these letters. Or you could harm me. Didn't you keep the photos ?"

"No, Thomas destroyed them. As for the letters, they are yours."

So that was his plan. What he had in mind. The Duke believed that Thomas decided to use the pictures against him. He believed that Y/N, as greedy as him, was helping, and since she knew what her husband was, he had to find something else to save his reputation.

It was quite sad to be honest. Y/N was not as offended as she could have been.

"Your Grace, I guess what you imagine. But Thomas has changed, he has grown up. He has no ill intentions towards you. As for me, I don't meddle in his business except when he asks me to. Like when he asked me to help you. I understand what you're going through. Well, in part. Like you said, you're a Duke, you have a lot of expectations on your shoulders that prevent you from being yourself. But I am a woman, who cannot say or do what I want, so I understand. I understand why you acted like you did. I understand that you loved him, but that it was not possible, and that his desperate attempt to stay with you displeased you. I understand Thomas, who felt used and abandoned. I know that if you could, you would have been together. I wish the world would leave us alone. But know that Thomas will never do anything to hurt you. And so I will never do anything to hurt him, or you."

Philip's response was to kiss her.

Not expecting it, Y/N doesn't react right away, before stepping back and leaving the room, shocked.

Until Thomas returned, she avoided the Duke like the plague, not knowing what to make of his gesture. The kiss had been quick. Pleasant. She didn't want to know if she liked it or not.

She did not dare speak to her husband about it. She didn't know how Thomas would react. Was Philip's goal to hurt his former lover by seducing his wife ? After what they had done for him ? Or it was something else... Was he even interested in women ? It made no sense.

The next week Philip resumed flirting with his valet. Only he was more gentle, more patient. More sincere. This surprised Thomas, who was not sure how to react. It reminded him of their summer, during which they had been very happy.

On top of that, Philip also started flirting with Y/N.

In fact, he often flirted with the Barrows, at the same time. This did not escape Thomas, of course.

"...He touched your neck."

"And he looked at your backside with shining eyes. Pass me the tablecloth please."

"Why did he touch your neck ? And yesterday he had a weird smile."

"He always has a weird smile."

"No, I know that smile. It's...Y/N, did he do something when I was in London ?"

"Can you pass me the plates ?"

"Y/N."

"Thomas."

"You two are really adorable."

They jumped at the same time, which made Philip snicker, who was standing next to them, displaying the famous smile that Thomas was talking about. A huge, happy smile.

As if it was perfectly normal, he put a hand on their shoulder, leaning even closer.

“To answer your question, yes, I did something. I couldn’t help myself. You know how I love beautiful brave little things. If it was inappropriate, I apologize. But if that wasn't the case... I would be delighted if you would come and help me tonight, to put me to bed. The two of you."

He said the last sentence with a kind of purr before going out of the living room, leaving the couple a bit lost, Thomas staring at her, before blushing and continuing to frantically clean the cutlery, while Y/N tried to catch her breath, putting the plates in their place.

"... We're not going, are we ?"

"Of course not."

"That would be stupid."

"Ridiculous."

"He kept your letters."

"Ah. I imagine he kissed you. He loves kissing."

"Would you want him to kiss you ?"

"No... Maybe. If he really needs help tonight, we should go. It's our job after all."

"Indeed."

"Unless it was inappropriate. Was it inappropriate ?"

"It was surprising."

"As I told you before, he can be vicious. Deceitful. And temperamental, demanding, lazy, annoying. It will be hard to... put him to bed."

"I found him quite nice. He said he was jealous."

They finished their work in silence, side by side, knowing that they were going to spend the night in the room of the Duke.

And it will only be the first night.

At the Crowborough estate, they felt free, and at the same time imprisoned by love and desire.

#downton abbey #philip villiers #philip duke of crowborough #duke of crowborough #thomas barrow #thomas barrow x philip villiers #thomas barrow x reader #philip villiers x reader #thomas barrow x philip villiers x reader #sorry sorry sorry

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

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You Want Me to Ruin You?

“You’re bleeding again.” Civilian sighed, already on her way to the closet door where she kept the first aid. She would need to order more if Villain kept it up. “Why don’t you take a break, love? Even if it’s just for a-”

Villain was already shaking his head. “No, no. I’m not giving Hero any advantages over me. You know he put a tracker on me last week?” He laughed- an act which caused Civilian to instruct him to stay still. He hardly listened, of course, his shoulders continuously bouncing as he said, “On the bottom of my right shoe. Couldn’t believe it. Not the brightest bulb in the bunch sometimes.”

“Suppose you felt it with each and every step?” The cut on Villain’s face wasn’t as bad today as the gash on his leg yesterday. He was reckless in fights, and he brought the evidence home every time.

“I did.”

Civilian quirked a brow as she raised a peroxide wipe to Villain’s cheek. “And I’m hoping you got rid of the tracker before you came home.” Villain knew she hated to be involved in any of this. He was lucky to find someone even willing to be with an acclaimed villain. It was a dangerous position to be in, and not one many would willingly walk into.

“You know I wouldn’t lead Hero to you.”

Her brow lifted impossibly higher. “You remember the time he literally kidnapped me from our back yard, right?”

“Yes, and then we moved to a new location. All was well.”

“Okay,” she drawled, removing the wipe and now beginning to grab an ointment to apply before bandaging Villain. “My point is that you messed up once. How do I know it won’t happen again?”

He touched her cheek, the fastest way to capture her attention. “Because I learned from that mistake. You won’t be found by that pesky fly again. Okay, dear?” As if his villainy would disappear if he didn’t say it, Villain told Civilian, “If he ever did succeed in finding you, he’d quickly regret it.”

Villain leaned forward, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Civilian’s ear. His eyes closed and his lips puckered, but he kept his distance- a respectful villain, he was.

“You have blood on your cheek, still.”

His eyes opened back up and his mouth relaxed. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not offering my cheek for you to kiss, isn’t it?” He glanced at her lips, then to her eyes. “There’s no blood on my mouth, oh lover of mine.”

“Maybe, but your mouth is close enough to your cheek that I’d prefer to stay away from both.” She put the ointment down, sighing at Villain once again.

Amusement tugged at one corner of Villain’s mouth. “Your hand has been close to my bleeding cheek, cleaning the wound. Can I at least kiss that?”

“You want to kiss your own wound?” she laughed. “I’m not sure that’s an achievable task.”

Now his eyes darkened. “You know what I meant. Stop teasing. Otherwise I might have to tease you back later.” Villain’s voice lowered. “Or maybe now instead.” A hand of his snuck towards Civilian’s side and she squealed as his fingers just barely brushed her.

She fell on her rear as a defence mechanism, but it only allowed Villain to advance more easily. Now he had an even greater upper hand than he did from the couch cushion.

“You’re still- still bleeding,” Civilian said, nearly out of breath in anticipation of the tickles Villain was so keen on delivering right now.

“You afraid of getting a red drop on this pretty shirt of yours?”

Civilian slowly scooted herself backwards. “Actually, you’d be more likely to drip on my pants, but yes. If you ruin my clothes, I’ll ruin you.”

“That’s my girl, talking like a real villain.”

“Only if you get blood on me.”

“Is that an invitation?” Villain advanced faster than Civilian was retreating, and he was growing slightly impatient with this long game.

Her lips turned downward. “You want me to ruin you?”

“Oh,” Mischievousness lit Villain’s eyes. “More than anything else in this wretched world.”

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talatomaz · 4 years

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crossing paths pt.i | diana prince x lance!reader

a/n: reader has the powers of telekinesis. since this was going to be really long, i decided to split it into two parts. also this may be slightly canon divergent since i’ve not watched flash in a long time.

warnings: mentions of fighting, death

word count: 1.9k

masterlist | request list | request rules

pt.i | pt.ii

reader is sara & laurel’s younger sister who works with team flash. after her and cisco’s experiment goes sideways, she finds herself trapped on an unknown earth not unlike her own

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“You’re absolutely sure this will work, Cisco?”

You asked, tying your hair up into a ponytail whilst the mechanical genius typed on his computer; the keys clacking under his fingertips.

“Yes. 100%. Well, more like 99%. Okay, if we’re being truly honest, then 93%.”

Cisco paused after each figure before turning his head to face you.

“Cisco-“

You started before the former interrupted, “Trust me, y/n. You’ll be fine. You just need to travel there, have a look around and then come straight back. We’ve done it so many times before.”

You and Cisco had been working on modifying the extrapolator your team often used to travel between different Earths. Or rather, you used to use them before the rebirth of the universe following Oliver’s sacrifice.

You cleared your throat at the thought of the vigilante. Having grown up with him and he having dated both of your older sisters meant that he was practically like your brother. And you were broken when you’d lost him so you’d left Team Arrow and came to work with Barry and his team instead.

Working with Team Flash was...different, to say the least. But having known them for several years, you got on well with them all, especially Cisco and Iris.

However, this project you were working on was only known to you and Cisco; the others blissfully unaware, mainly because the two of you knew that if you told them, they’d guilt you into stopping your experiment.

You were the one who had gone to Cisco with the idea in the first place.

After the Crisis, many of you had assumed that everyone solely remained on one Earth however you believed that the multiverse still existed, but that it’d be much harder to access. Cisco had agreed to help you but had explained that he wouldn’t come with you due to his relinquished powers.

So here you were, getting ready to try out the extrapolator in order to confirm or disprove your theory that the multiverse still existed.

“Technically, we haven’t, Cisco. New Earth remember?”

“That’s just semantics.”

“Cisco, if this doesn’t work, you better be ready to explain to my ex-assassin of a sister what happened to me.”

You laughed as his face dropped at the thought of that conversation.

He cleared his throat, “I’ve done all the necessary calculations and made a few needed modifications, including a GPS chip. It’ll work, y/n. Here, take your mask. Just in case.”

He added as an afterthought, handing you the sleek black mask he had designed to disguise your identity.

You put the mask in your jacket and took a deep breath, readying yourself. Holding the extrapolator, you pressed the small button and a familiar portal opened in front of you; variations of colours swirling around the breach.

You looked back at Cisco and feigned seriousness, “If I die, I’m going to kill you.”

His eyes widened making you smile, “Be safe, Cisco. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, you then stepped into the inter-dimensional breach.

***

“Okay, hopefully this worked.”

The breach closed behind you as you stepped into an alley; the several dumpsters providing some form of protection from anyone who may have seen you.

Wherever you were, it was bright and sunny.

Pocketing the extrapolator, you stepped out of the alley and walked down the paved sidewalk, listening for any indications of where you were from passersby.

You continued walking until you came across a newsstand that looked fairly out of place in this seemingly technological environment.

You stopped, peering at the front cover of one of the magazines.

The words “DAILY PLANET” were printed on the top of the paper. You reached down and picked it up, flicking through the pages, pausing when you saw a familiar name on the byline.

Folding the paper back into its original state, you placed it back on the stand, flashing a kind but brief smile to the newsagent who looked at you with intrigue.

Although you didn’t know what Earth you were on, at least you knew you were in Metropolis.

A place you had visited several times since the rebirth of the universe.

A place that, despite whatever Earth, was always home to one Clark Kent, better known as Superman.

You pondered in your thoughts for a little while longer before deciding to venture out and explore the city, eager to find any similarities or differences between your Earth and this one.

You ended up in a museum.

You weren’t sure exactly how you’d gotten there, having followed wherever your feet had taken you but, nevertheless, you were here.

Whilst you were never a huge fan of museums, you’d often found yourself being dragged to them by Laurel when you were younger.

There was something about them that she’d loved.

She tried explaining it to you once.

How the beauty of art told a story or something.

You didn’t really pay much attention and who could have blamed you? You were only 10 years old. You’d rather be out playing or hanging out with your friends than spending your Saturday afternoon in a stuffy old museum.

But this place was anything but.

In truth, you knew that you sought solace in places like these during times of distress or uncertainty.

It gave you a chance to feel closer to your sister after the world had cruelly taken her away from you. Even on another Earth, you still found peace and felt her presence next to you.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging before tensing once more, feeling someone behind you.

You never used to be so on edge.

When you were younger, you lived such a care free life, never feeling any need to be concerned or cautious.

But that had changed quickly.

Soon you had been thrust into the vigilante life, more determined than ever to become like your sisters and help them fight crime.

In fact, you had learned to fight from a reluctant Sara.

After several arguments about the danger of her world, she’d come to accept that there was no changing your mind and had decided that if you were going to purposely put yourself in harm’s way, you needed to be prepared. She had put you through vigorous training which Oliver soon picked up with you after Sara had been recruited to form the Legends.

So, suffice it to say, you were well-versed in the forms of self-defence and were constantly on the lookout for any form of danger.

And being on a different Earth certainly warranted your caution.

“How are you liking our exhibit?”

A feminine voice said, her voice thick with an accent you couldn’t distinguish.

Turning with a smile, you spoke, “It’s beautiful. I never used to appreciate art but now I find myself lost in the works of Rembrandt or Claude Monet.”

“Ah yes. They were most excellent artists.”

You blinked, not at her words but at her face.

The woman who stood before you was, quite simply put, the most beautiful person you’d ever seen in your life.

Realising you were staring, you cleared your throat, “Yes, I agree.”

You opened your mouth to say something else - what, you weren’t sure of - when you closed it again having spotted a man who’d just entered the room which held the small exhibit.

The figure wore a black cap, obstructing his face, his eyes darting around before landing on another male situated in one of the corners of the room. The latter gave him a brief nod which the other returned. Discreetly glancing at them, you noticed familiar bulges beneath their shirt, surely holding a gun.

“Okay, don’t be alarmed but I think this place is about to get robbed.” You said in a hushed whisper, faking interest in another piece of art beside you.

You noted the small but discernible flicker in the woman’s eyes, her name still unknown to you.

“How-“

“Let’s just say I’m perceptive. Do me a favour and take out your phone.”

You waited until the brunette had followed your instructions.

“Pretend to be talking to someone and walk out the room. They’re not going to do anything until you’re gone because they don’t want to run the risk of you warning someone.”

She nodded at your words and proceeded to carry out your plan.

You fought the look of surprise and confusion that surely would’ve shown on your face at the lack of fear on hers. Instead, her eyes seemed to hold a look of determination.

Determined to do what, you weren’t sure of.

Once she had left, your suspicions were confirmed when the two men simultaneously took out their guns and shouted.

“Everybody down on the ground. Now!”

Screams and shouts were let out by the small group of citizens in the room, replacing the quiet bustle of hushed whispers that had previously filled the air.

As everyone immediately fell to the ground, you slid down the wall until you were in an upright position.

You watched as they removed several of the smaller pieces of art, carefully placing them in a duffel bag. You waited until they grew closer to you before standing up causing both of their guns to be aimed at you.

“Sit back down or you’ll get a bullet in your pretty little head.”

They both moved to stand in front of you, blocking you from the view of the security cameras and the people behind them. Using your powers, you pulled the guns toward you and flung them to the far side of the room.

You took advantage of their momentary confusion and kicked both of them. One of them grabbed you from behind, his tight grip trapping your arms. You raised your legs and caged the other’s neck between them.

Twisting your legs, you threw him to the ground and then drew yourself closer into your captor’s arms, lifting off the ground for a brief second before throwing him over your shoulders and onto the ground beside the other intruder.

“Run!”

You yelled to the handful of citizens who watched you with a mixture of awe and fear.

Then you felt yourself being pushed against the marble ground as one of the men jumped on top of you, his weight crushing your small figure.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch.” He snarled against your ear.

You threw your head back, smirking when you heard the grunt of pain and several curses falling from the man’s lips.

You raised your hands and with it, the other man floated in the air. With a wave of your wrist, he went crashing into his friend and they slumped into a corner.

You quickly picked yourself up and ran out of the museum’s back exit, knowing you had to avoid the police at all costs.

Reaching an abandoned alley, similar to the one you first arrived in, you took out the inter-dimensional extrapolator, deciding it was way too dangerous for you to remain here any longer.

Pressing the device, you expected to see a breach form but to your shock, there was none. Inspecting the device, you saw that it had been broken, more than likely from when you’d been thrown against the ground by the robbers.

You muttered a foul curse before calming yourself.

Think, y/n. Think.

Your ears perked up at the familiar whistle and rattle of train tracks.

Okay, you knew what to do next.

You needed to go home.

Part 2 ->

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winchesterxxi · 4 years

Text

A Human Wiretap (Poe Dameron x Reader)

GIF BY @captain-flint

Rating: G (General Audience)

Type: Fluff

Summary: While in Kijimi, Reader is shocked by the revelation of Poe having been a spice runner before becoming a Resistance pilot, unaware that he knows about her own secret

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: None

A/N: let the stream of Poe content commence

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

Kijimi was the last place you wanted to be right now. You had always known of this place to be infested with pirates and all the lawless beings of the galaxy, the country being practically a crime heaven.

The destination had been appointed as The Thieves' Quarter, the place you were told you could find Babu Frik, and to your unrest, your husband seemed to be able to navigate the streets of the foreign planet pretty well, occasionally stopping against a wall at any given corner, looking around for any threats.

“Are you sure you never came here?” you ask one time while leaning against his side on a cold brick wall, waiting for the safe sign.

“Not really.” He says looking over at the snowy empty street, before turning his head back at you for a split second “Coast’s clear, let’s go”

And just as he took the first step to round the corner, an armoured woman came into view pointing a blaster at Poe’s face.

Not even allowing a second to process another thought, you reach for your own blaster, pulling it from its holster and aiming it perfectly so that it was secured in the direction of the person’s head on both of your steady hands.

“Heard you were spotted at Monk’s Gate. Thought He’s not stupid enough to come back here.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Poe mumbles from his stance.

“Blaster off him. Now.” You warn from your spot, a scowl upon your face, ready to shoot, in case she dared to make another move.

“Zorii!” Poe exclaims in fake enthusiasm, before snapping his head quickly between the two of you. “She won’t ask twice, I would listen to her”

“You pull that trigger, you’re next, honey.” You assure her, readjusting your fingers as to place a stronger grip around the camera.

“She used a pet name, she’s serious.” Poe nods and nervously warns the woman whose weapon was now closer to his forehead, almost pressed against it.

“We’re only here to find Babu Frik, we don’t want no trouble.” You tell her cordially, expecting to explain your presence in the clearly unwelcoming planet and maybe have her help you. You eye the woman up and down, eyes scanning the shining golden armour, before settling on the deep black visor.

“Who are you?”

“Honey,” Poe speaks, being careful not to make any sudden moves that could make the woman pull the trigger “this is Zoriii. Zoriii, this Y/N, my wife.”

You are a little taken aback by the fact that they seem to know each other fairly well, given the assurance that Poe had just given you moments ago, that he’d never step foot on Kijimi.

Her helmet turns to you “Wife?” she scoffs “I guess there really is someone for everyone.”

“You have no idea.” he smirks, a momentary lapse, and you snap a look at him.

“I could pull this trigger right now.” She says, pushing the blaster harder against Poe’s head, and you take a step forward.

“You do that, my blaster is the last thing you’ll see in this life.” Sharp words leave your mouth, both you and Poe knowing damn well that you were badass enough to keep the promise.

“Babu only works with the crew. That’s not you anymore.” Zorii says, still talking to Poe, as if your presence and the one of your weapon aimed at her is non-existent.

“What do you mean crew?” you ask her, and for a moment, her attention is directed to you, before slowly tilting once again in your husband’s direction, whose hands were still up in the air in a surrendering feat.

“Oh your wife doesn’t know?” her voice, goes up an octave, clearly amused by whatever is about to unfold. Your eyes scan between the two of them waiting for some kind of explanation of whatever secret conversation was going on in front of you. “Funny he never mentioned it…”

“What is she talking about?” you question Poe but he gives himself no time to utter a word at you, just quickly waving his hand and facing Zorii.

“Zorii, married people are still allowed secrets- “ he tries but she is too quick to reveal the information you were dying to be delivered.

“Your husband was part of the Spice Runner Gang.”

You can’t stop your jaw from going slack at the revelation, not being able to form any coherent words and instead just moving your mouth like a fish out of water, dwelling on whether you felt hurt, angry or any other emotion of the rush that caught you in that moment.

Poe’s shoulders slump slightly and he bites his bottom lip, eyes closed in frustration. He then turns at you, hands still up, as you were still gripping the blaster, which was now pointed at him as he was walking towards you, cautious steps, one at a time.

“I can explain.”

“You were a smuggler? AND A SPICE RUNNER AT THAT?” You drop your blaster to your side, stepping towards him, your brain having decided on anger as the momentary emotion.

“Y/N-“

“In 2 years of marriage NOT ONCE did it occur to you to mention that!?” you yell the two middle words, incredulous at your husband’s secret, having spent your whole relationship that he had always been a resistance pilot, just like he had assured you.

“Oh, don’t act like I’m the only one with a secret here!” his hands drop to his side, and he is no longer trailing in front of you like a lost puppy looking for forgiveness but instead returns to his conflictual side, a defence mechanism, you’ve come to learn.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you scoff, genuinely clueless as to what he could be referring to. And definitely not expecting him to voice the secret you fought years to keep.

“I know you’re a Sywalker!” he says loudly, and its as if your spirit has left your body, the blood draining from your face, and for a moment you forget that breathing is a necessary bodily function.

“H… How do you…”

“The week before we got married I-…” he takes a deep breathe in, running a hand through his wild curls, now dusted with white snow. “I heard you and Leia.”

Poe was making his way to the X-Wing hangar when he stumbled across an ajar door from where he spotted your figure passing across it and disappearing multiple times.

It wasn’t until he stepped closer and leaned against the wall, that he got the full picture.

You were pacing back and forth in an empty resting room of The Radus, pattering your boots across the white floor as Leia sat by the window, looking at you in this impossible frenzy, fingers pressed against your mouth while the other hand rested on your hip.

Your motion comes to a halt in front of her, turning on your toes to face her.

“Should I tell him?”

“I think you should do what you think to be the right thing.” Leia answers her, reaching forward to grab your nervous hands in hers.

“We’re getting married next week, but I don’t think telling him would be any good…”

That’s when Poe’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest, tightening at the implication of your wedding and a number of awful possibilities running across his mind as to what you could be hiding from him.

“He’ll think…I don’t even know. I’ve spent more than half of my life hiding this and if he finds out… What if he thinks I’m a freak? And…And just leave me?”

Poe, from across the door, inches closer, curiosity getting the best of him and brows furrowing.

“Y/N, honey, Poe has been around plenty of force-sensitive people. I can assure you that my niece being one won’t scare him away.” Leia assures you while giving your hands a firm squeeze, and you let your head fall back, closing your eyes.

Wait, what? Poe was really trying to connect the dots at the amount of information that he had been bombed within this short amount of time.

“Not the daughter of Luke Skywalker.” You sigh.

“You knew?... All this time…” your eyes brim with tears.

Poe turns to Zorii who still stood behind him, the blaster having been lowered.

“Can you…give us a moment?”

“Who the hell do you think you are to be asking favours right now?” she snaps but Poe’s eyes plead at her for a single ounce of sympathy. “I’m staying right here.”

Poe turn around to face you, still very aware of the blaster pointed at the back of his head and he lowers his voice so that only the two of you can share the conversation.

“Honey…”

“You still married me?” you are looking down until you speak, watery and red eyes finding those of Poe who’s demeanour completely changes upon your question. He rushes to your front, gloved hands finding your upper arms, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You knew I was lying to you and you still… you still…”

“Honey,” his hands slide up from your arms to your cheeks “Look at me. I love you. I know why you did it. I probably would’ve done the same. I’m not mad, never have been, never will be.”

You were fighting the urge to ramble on, but upon looking into your husband’s sincere eyes, you relaxed your whole body and he takes that as a cue to pull you in for a hug. With your face flush against his chest, you mumble an apology, fists tightening around the fabric of his cloak.

“I’m sorry… for snapping at you earlier. It was very hypocritical of me.”

Poe smiles against your forehead, before placing a tender kiss against its warm flesh.

“It’s okay, honey, I swear. At least…at least I think I owe you an explanation.” Poe takes a deep breath in “I… When I was a teen, still living on Yavin 4,… their ship crashed near my hometown and I just… I needed out of there, I wanted to be reckless. So I joined them.”

You pull your head away from his chest, craning it upwards.

“Zorri’s mom was… she was the leader of the Spice Runners and she had this plan of inviting other crime lords here to form alliances, but she really was just planning on killing them. Zorii offered to fight against her with me and take control of the Spice Runners but I was done. Honestly, I wanted a better life.”

“And you got it. Congratulations.” Zorii’s voice makes the two of you snap back at her, Poe’s hand rushing down to your side, grabbing your hand and stepping slightly in front of you. “You know, I’m still digging out of the hole you put me in when you left to join the Resistance.”

Her helmet then turns in your direction and you have no time to manoeuvre the blaster back to pointing at her, afraid that she’d shoot.

“You. You’ll do.” She says referring to you “A Skywalker. A bounty for her might just cover us.” She says and you frown at the word us until you find your peripheral vision starting to get dotted on the sides by equally armoured soldiers who you assumed to be Spice Runners.

“Djak’kankah” she commands.

“Don’t djak’kankah” Poe pleads, knowing the meaning of the word.

Just then, when you perceive that the smugglers are running in on you, you quickly snap up your blaster and take them all one by one with perfect aim, sliding your leg under Zorii’s feet and akeing her fall to the cold ground right in front of you, both of you pointing your blasters at each other.

“We could really use your help. Please.” You huff, trying to calm your beating heart from the adrenaline of the previous moment.

“Not that you care…But I think you’re okay.” She breathes through the helmet.

“I care.” You let a sly smile tint your lips, sliding your blaster back into its holster and offering the woman who just seconds ago was dead set on killing you your hand.

When she is hoisted back to her feet, she walks ahead of the both of you signalling for her to be followed but as she is about to pass Poe she throws him a few words.

“She’s a keeper.”

“Don’t I know that.” He smirks, turning back to see you walking to catch up to him. Before you can say anything, his gloved hand is already pressed against your cheek as he brings his lips down to crash against yours.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” You whisper against his lips “But I still need to-“

“You can tell me all about it tonight. While laying in bed. No rush.” He smiles assuringly at you and you swear if you didn’t have a mission at hands you would melt into his embrace for as long as the galaxy aloud you to.

“Let’s find that droidsmith.” You smile at him, before placing one quick kiss against his jaw and walking towards Zorii, leaving the former Spice Runner, current lovestruck Resistance Pilot, completely enamoured and stunned behind you.

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

TAGLISTS

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@blondekel77 @pedrobreakmyback

POE DAMERON TAGLIST

@niall2017

#A Human Wiretap #Poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fluff #star wars #return of the jedi #oscar isaac x reader

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jesswritesthat · 4 years

Note

you are such a good writer so i just know you’ll do justice to this. if you’d be willing, a small drabble about reader who tends to be quite standoffish w guys and just isn’t as close to them as compared to girls bc i remember being so stupid around my childhood crush and i’m pretty sure he hated me 😃 and then the guy i was friends w wouldn’t let me get too close to him bc he didn’t want people to think we’re “dating” n e ways let me shove my insecurities back down,,, but reader still loves watching romance anything bc someone unabashedly wanting to be around you like that?? can’t relate xx anyways it can be w any haikyuu guy, let the vibes come to you 🥰 thank you Jess love u 🥺

A/N: Hold up - THIS IS ME OMG! I feel you, I have terrible luck with romance but I find it so cute at the same time! I love you too, gorgeous anon, I hope I’ve done you justice 🥺

So allow me to kill some of those insecurities - or Oikawa will rather >:)

Warnings: cursing, fem reader

>>>>——————————>

Anyone could admit Oikawa Tōru was enamouring, yet you only offered a shaky sigh as your friend tugged you along to meet her team. That’s what you get for befriending the future manager of Seijoh back in Middle School.

"Aren't you from Iwa-chans’ class?" An internal shriek caused your eyes to widen, snapping your head to the local celebrity tilting his toward you rather than his fangirls.

"I'm surprised you remember." Snarky. Nice, you'd possibly regret it if not for his all-too-gentlemanly attitude. He’d only barged in searching for Iwaizumi a couple of times, you didn’t think he’d taken notes.

"Wouldn't forget a pretty face like yours." The smile was beautiful, even so you crossed your arms with a raised brow.

"Next time, try harder~"

"So mean (L/n)-chan."

You winced, your head screaming 'I know! God I know?! Why would I say that?!' but it was natural instinct at this point, a defence mechanism if you will, especially against someone as cunning as Oikawa Tōru.

In honesty, you believed that to be the start and end of it - except your friend encouragingly dragged you to her practices and Oikawa strategically managed to catch you alone every single time. Makki or Mattsun (you think) subtlety coined your friends focus for approximately 10 minutes, leaving you laxly waiting for her to rejoin you. In fact with the consistency at which it occurred, you’d become friends with the Captain.

———

Only you’d let your guard down once, the team required managerial help meanwhile you got settled playing a romantic film on your phone. Immediately you were distracted, softness leaking to your features whilst muffled hopeless sighs of endearment were hummed in acknowledgment.

“That’s an unusual sound from you~”

“He just gave her a rose and they kissed in the rain, how could I not - shit!” It was a subconscious answer due to enthralment, the haunting voice only resonating mid-way through your justification causing you to shockingly snap around to Tōru watching from over your shoulder with a smug grin. You’d almost dropped your phone!

“Don’t stop now (Y/n)-chan, tell me how to get you to make that sound again. It’s cute.”

“No- no way! Get back to practice Oikawa - go do a jump serve or something!”

“Oh? So you do listen when I talk about Volleyball!”

———

It wasn’t until after their next practice match did you suffer his infuriating (yet admittedly appreciated) presence again. This time the brunette proudly standing by your side as he shared his views of the match with you - the burning gazes of his fans deadlocked on the two of you as if deciphering the DaVinci code.

"Maybe you should um - y'know, not be so close?"

A careful roll of your shoulder accompanied your hesitant claim, the close proximity allowing for the small movement to graze his left side. Oikawa shot you a perplexed look, leaning closer to your face out of spite - even if his inquiry was subtlety sincere.

"Why? You don't like it?"

"No - I mean yes - I just..." A sigh of defeat escapes as you run a hand through your hair before meeting his warm hues again. "People might think you care and I wouldn't want you to have to deal with rumours."

Tōru was unnervingly quiet, he would’ve took a step back if you’d asked, however this reasoning was ridiculous by his standard. Darkened irises scanned over your casual frame with fingers pressed against his chin in thought.

"What if I want people to think that? I mean it's true, isn't it~"

"Is it?"

A melodic chuckle echoes your sarcastic suspicion, the heartthrob of Seijoh nudging your arm with a charming smile that’d leave fans fainting at his feet.

"Am I not obvious enough for you (Y/n)-chan?"

"You're obvious to everyone - in fact you're probably nicer to your fans than you are to me. Hence why I'm hesitant to believe you."

It was beyond comprehension to think one of the most popular men in Miyagi be romantically interested in you, which is why taking the flirtatious antics of Oikawa was done with a pinch of salt.

“Hmm... in that case I’ll show you...” You hadn’t a moment to determine his intentions, not when he’d firmly hooked your wrist and dragged you out to the refreshing Spring showers currently hydrating Miyagis’ cherry blossoms that day.

“By getting me wet?!”

“Eventually maybe - ah, that’s not it though.” Only smirking at the death glare pointed at him due the insinuation, Tōru washed it away with the gentle caress of his palms either side of your jaw. You knew his hands were magic but this was surreal - a thumb brushed your cheekbone before his lips met with your forehead, his nose then skimmed to meet yours with a genuinely content smile ghosting his features.

“T-tōru?” Breathless surprise, that’s all you could muster with the rain trickling down your skin onto his delicate fingers. He’d never seen you so defenceless, and he’d wanted more of it.

“I actually like that sound better than your longing sighs, say it again for me, won’t you?” You’d pulled from him with that, your fingers lacing his wrists - to which the Setter fluently twisted and captured your hands in his own causing you to furrow your brows once again.

“Shut up, you’re not funny.”

A defeated sigh left him, eyes briefly closed in surrender prior to fluttering open with renewed admiration for you, mildly unwilling to admit the sentimentality underlying his actions. Sentimentality tailored to you and for only you.

“I know it’s not a passionate kiss in the rain like in the movies, the ones you like so much. But I’ll willingly, happily try - we can get to that if you want to go on a date with me?“

“Are you serious? Don’t you h-“

“I don’t want them, I want you. The person who lets her friends drag her to games she didn’t want to attend, who helps in practice despite not needing to, the girl who got to know the real me, and the one who looks really cute watching romantic movies~”

“I don’t know her but, I suppose there’s no harm in going out with you once Oikawa.” The witty response caused him to laugh along with you, expecting nothing less.

“Perfect - but my hair is gonna be ruined, can we go back inside now (Y/n)-chan?”

Rolling your eyes at his petty whining, you couldn’t hide the overflowing amusement in your laugh as you pushed him back into the gymnasium where his team (and your friend) sported expectant grins.

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

#oikawa toru #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa toru imagine #oikawa scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #anime x reader #anime imagines #aoba johsai #oikawa tōru #hq #hq fluff #hq imagines

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wincore · 4 years

Text

youngblood | lee donghyuck

pairing: haechan x reader

words: 9.1k

genre: ‘bad boy’!au, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: language, juvenile crimes (do NOT try shoplifting, speeding and vandalism, kids)

a/n: okay omg i finally got around to editing this and you guys should know by now this au doesn’t mean he’s bad and just.........annoying........... (also it follows troublemaker’s style but like............it might just be my fav troublemaker part aaaa)

The first day you meet Lee Donghyuck, he picks a fight with you. Or you pick a fight with him.

That’s not how the first day of high school should have gone.

It surprised you, just a little, to be toe-to-toe with someone so easily. Did he like picking fights for fun? You looked him up and down, the ink over his forearm meant to be shown and a strange friendliness in his eyes. Not exactly the bully type, you weren’t sure what to make of him. Movies spoil reality when it comes to things like this. Rumors are even worse. You took a slow gulp anyway, Donghyuck’s eyes on you unnerving.

He leaned in slightly to match your height. His tone was lilting and he phrased his words light-heartedly, a pretence you found funny. “I have no interest in you, kid. I’m going to keep it that way.”

“We’re the same age, you know?”

Your reply went unheard. It was just misunderstanding that got you there—you mistook his locker for yours and it’s not your fault you happen to have the same passcode (a little weird though, definitely). Lee Donghyuck said if you were allowed to take what’s his, he should have the same privilege, the word thief at the tip of his tongue. He was a little daunting, you suppose—taller than you were, in all black and several piercings and tattoos poking out on wrists. Maybe it was the undulating rage of being fourteen and at the stage of heavy regret in later years, maybe it was the wariness around strangers. You weren’t quite afraid of him; just that a fight on your first day didn’t seem like a very bright start in a new city. Although you assured him you didn’t touch his stuff, you handed him your bear-shaped keychain. (“You can have this if you want a gift so bad.”)

When Donghyuck laughed, giving it back almost immediately with a cheeky grin—you couldn’t decide whether to let the confusion show on your face.

“Don’t be a pushover, newbie.”

You frowned. “Who’re you calling a pushover?”

You don’t remember the rest of it but you found it very hard to not have mixed feelings about him. You’re trying to have a normal fun high school life for fuck’s sake. You didn’t think he was the awful sort of person—but it was almost as if he was trouble’s very own lovechild. There are better weapons against him than falling into pointless playfights.

Lee Donghyuck. Funny guy.

The school bully image was a lie, no doubt spread by someone more than annoyed with his antics. Of course, Lee Donghyuck either didn’t care or didn’t know, wits always about him like some sort of eccentric defence mechanism.

You admire him in a way, but you wouldn’t be caught dead telling him that.

Lee Donghyuck is popular, full of jokes and fun but a little rough on the edges all the same. But you have to assume he must have some demonic heritage. You could say you have a strange relationship—friends but not. You hate him but don’t. While you’re sure there’s at least a little bit of sunshine hidden beneath those black T-shirts and inked skin, there’s a bit more than hidden sides to young troublemakers—things that don’t involve misunderstanding.

Lee Donghyuck looks like danger. (And danger attracts attention of all kinds, you’d noticed in a few unfortunate heart-eyed classmates.) You’ve seen him in enough fights to have respect for him, making you wonder why he doesn’t join the debate team already. It might have something to do with how his victorious smile gets on everyone’s nerves, the way they groan at Donghyuck’s sudden affections afterward. They don’t hate him—mostly. He’s honest and he knows exactly how to press people. That doesn’t change the innocence in his arrogance or the clear distinction of his spirit.

Of course there are bad people; Donghyuck just isn’t one of them. He just tries too hard to look cool. (“Sunflower,” he’d called you, pulling a face. “I know you’re dense. But maybe start being afraid of me so you don’t ruin my reputation.”)

The sunlight falls against the web of your thumb, your fingers rapidly moving to match the pace of the game on your phone. Five minutes to class, you’ve got nothing better to do.

“What, trying to beat my high score again?” Donghyuck pulls the chair beside you to sit, his arms resting on the desk as he continues to stare at you.

“Believe me, Donghyuck, not everything I do is for you,” you chuckle, tapping on the play again button, catching the look on his face out of the corner of your eye.

Donghyuck looks visibly irked and you think maybe your decision to be so annoyingly passive has been the right one if it bothers him. Ah, but you won’t tell him that. You’re having the time of your life this way.

“Well,” Donghyuck begins but frowns instead. “Whatever.”

It’s not every day you get to win—Donghyuck does get under your skin. You just don’t have to show it. Sometimes his own friends decide they’ve had enough, the classroom shenanigans making you laugh. You don’t want to get started on the chaos that unfurls every time Donghyuck walks into class and straight up picks a fight with anyone in his eyesight—even Jaemin has his “Lee Donghyuck!” moments. Donghyuck is friends with everyone and that means he gets to get on everyone’s nerves.

You smile to yourself thinking of Donghyuck yawning deliberately at Renjun trying to make a point. Call him a demon, call him a disgrace; he knows how to make people laugh.

You pass Red’s diner on your way back home, as usual, the unusual red and white checkers replacing the normal concrete sidewalk by it. It’s always soothed you to see bright colours in this side of the city, the beige and coffee aesthetic far too dominating for its cause—something to keep up with the larger, fancier (more pretentious) metropolises. It’s also the oldest; your friends told you the number of baby pictures everyone has on the wine-coloured couches is, in more appropriate words, fucking astounding.

You wish you’d moved here earlier. The thing about little cities is just that—they’re not all that little. Something everyone seemingly loves to boast about, the romance of a small town and its delicate simplicities. It’s nothing alike. You’d know. You enjoy it more here. You like all the food outlets and stores lining the streets and further up, less congestion and more dog parks—all places you love breezing through in your free time. There’s an amusement park too, a forty-minute drive away into the middle of nowhere and if you’re not mistaken, the city centre has the best clubs and bars. Sunshine drips through every nook and cranny—it’s everything you’d expected a city to be.

You stop in your tracks at the sight of distinct brown curls in the alleyway between buildings. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to be in the best of situations, a tougher, much larger guy shoving him against the wall. They seem to be speaking, and something about Donghyuck’s smile doesn’t give you a good feeling about what’s going to happen.

Before the guy’s fist meets Donghyuck’s cheek, you yell, two pairs of eyes shifting focus to you. You feel your heartbeat quicken, Donghyuck raising his eyebrow and shooting you a confused look.

“Don’t- don’t hurt him,” you say, cursing at the meekness of your voice.

The larger man laughs, a sound like nails on a chalkboard and you cringe. Donghyuck mouths at you to get away but immediately shuts up when the man turns to him again.

“You got a little lover come here to protect you?” he says, looking at Donghyuck with amusement.

“No, that’s not—”

“I hate little brats like you,” he huffs, shoving Donghyuck once more, this time a little harder. He lets out a pained whine, eyes squeezing shut as he drops on his knees.

You take a hesitant step back when the man makes his way to you, blood rushing to your ears when he raises his hand. Your arms go up by instinct and you’re met with a hard push, falling to the ground with a whimper.

You’re picked up by the collar, struggling to not let fear show on your face.

“Tell your boyfriend to stop messing around my store, okay, sweetheart?” he threatens, voice lower.

With that, he drops you and leaves, the adrenaline in you not quite down yet.

“Donghyuck?” you call, worried as you spot him lying still in the alleyway. You’re about to get up and go to him when he responds, whimsical as ever.

“I’m okay!” He raises his hand with a peace sign and you sigh, annoyed.

“Really?! What were you even doing?”

“I ate some cookies for free, big deal,” he says before he suddenly raises his head with a lopsided grin. “Is sunflower worried about me?”

You groan, dusting yourself as you get up and walk over to him. You throw him a light kick at the side to which he whines overdramatically and scrunches his face into something pained. Lee Donghyuck could be hit by a bus and he’d play it off with fingers guns and eyebrow wiggling.

“Become a chainsaw-juggler or something if you want to do something dangerous,” you complain, “And get up!”

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “As always, you have such boring ideas.”

He does get up the next moment, although with a large show of holding his back and several whines about near-death experiences as if he’s not the one bringing it upon himself. You’re sure his back is bruised but he doesn’t acknowledge it as anything more than a joke. There’s also a gash on his cheek he must have received earlier. It’s no surprise he has a fresh batch of wounds—you think he spends more time in the nurse’s office than in actual classes.

“Why do you pick fights with people clearly stronger than you?” you grumble as he dusts himself off.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me,” Donghyuck says, straightening, “I would’ve got out of this pretty clean without you.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure thing.”

Donghyuck frowns, a huff leaving his mouth.

“I don’t mean to brag but that guy would have been running for his life if you hadn’t butt in,” he shrugs, trying to sound less ruffled.

You laugh at his expression, forgetting about your bruised arms for a moment.

“You should treat me,” you say, the thought passing your head. You don’t have change and you’re really craving some strawberry milk.

He scoffs. “For what?”

“For saving you.”

You expected a retort, at least. Donghyuck pauses for a moment before a worrying grin floats up on his face. “Sure. Come with me.”

You narrow your eyes at him but follow nonetheless, walking side by side. The sunlight makes his skin glow, the hue on his cheeks perfect were it not for the dried blood from the gash. His eyes shine when he smiles, mischief or not, when he’s telling you about how you should try vandalism and robbery sometimes, they’re pretty fun. It’s a Donghyuck trait—to be able to live like this and still call it fun. You look at his lips once and immediately look away. What a silly thought. They’re regrettably pretty, though, despite being busted often. The sun has been kind to Donghyuck, with the colour of his skin full and the confidence you’d only find in someone made of sun flares.

So that’s why.

You stare at the motorbike parked at a clearly No Parking area, the metallic red gleaming under the late afternoon sun. You’ve never been on one before but something tells you Donghyuck would traumatise you far too much to try again. You cannot agree to get on that.

“Hop on,” he instructs.

You hesitate. “Where are we going?”

“To the centre, of course.” He smiles brightly. “There’s a bunch of bakeries and eateries over there.”

“You can just buy me some strawberry milk from a vending machine around.”

“Well, I forgot my wallet,” he says, looking up to think, “I left it at my job.”

You furrow your eyebrows, not believing a word. It’s Lee Donghyuck after all, the opposite of predictable, and arguing with him will only cost you your breath.

“A motorbike and no leather jacket?” You smile, regaining your composure. “I mean, not everyone can pull off the leather jacket, of course.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes overstatedly. “I don’t expect you to be smarter but stereotypes? Wow.”

You do get on the bike, however, with some pushing on Donghyuck’s side. More importantly, you somehow don’t end up traumatised despite what you supposed. It felt good, wind in your hair and although your legs were stuck to the sides of the bike like glue, you found yourself enjoying the scene around you speeding by. The fact that Donghyuck can be careful was beyond your knowledge and understanding.

The buildings are a little taller here and while you’ve been here before, the sight never fails to make your heartbeat quicken. There’s something inevitably calling about this place. You’d love to explore when there are nightlights around each corner.

“Your wallet?” you remind Donghyuck.

Donghyuck feigns surprise, gasping. “Right! It was in my pocket. But I have no money.”

“What? We came all the way here for nothing?!”

“No. I have a plan.” Donghyuck grins, pointing towards the pretty glass door of the bakery across the street.

“Oh no,” you say quietly as the realization dawns, “We’re not stealing.”

“Then you came all the way here for nothing.”

You sigh heavily into your hands as Donghyuck tries to sweeten his grin, clearly trying to convince you.

“You really don’t have to be this annoying, you know that?”

“It’s a choice,” he says, pulling a face, “And I do it because I excel at it, thank you very much.”

You reluctantly follow Donghyuck into the bakery, people bustling in and out, mostly for their fix of evening coffee or tea. There are photo frames around pictures of coffee beans, tea leaves and pastries, all against a soft orange wallpaper. It’s not as small as it looked from outside, you realize, with its capacity for people quite enough. The smell of chocolate is predominant, hazelnut and coffee wafting in from the left side.

“Free samples!” Donghyuck gasps, before turning to whisper to you, “You know we can try one of each, right? That saves us some trouble.”

You’d be lying if his lips so close to your ears didn’t make you jump a little. You take short steps behind him as he eagerly walks to the counter.

“Ah, is this a new type?” Donghyuck asks, beaming at the woman behind the counter. She raises an eyebrow at the ear piercings and tattoos, gracing him with a smile nonetheless.

While he’s engaged in conversation, you stare at the two of them confused till you’re met with a light kick at your foot. You give Donghyuck a dirty look, who keeps pointing towards the samples with his hands under the counter.

“You’re supposed to shove some into your bag, you know?” he leans in to whisper, exasperated, when the lady leaves to enter the pantry.

“Well, how was I supposed to know, genius?” you shoot back, crossing your arms.

Donghyuck looks around nervously before taking a few of the tarts and carefully placing them in your bag.

“Don’t move too much or you’ll crush them,” he warns in a hush.

The woman returns again, with a warmer smile and Donghyuck goes back to his clever, silver-tongued words. He’s so awful, you think. But you can’t deny the exhilaration in your chest, a giddy feeling of doing the wrong thing in a way that feels right.

You end up having the free samples afterward, pretending to contemplate buying as the woman looks at the two of you expectantly. It’s delicious, sweet chocolate manipulating your taste buds to want another bite almost immediately after you’re done.

“We do offer couple discounts, too!” she says, beaming.

There it is again, the unsettling implications—accusations almost. Since when do the two of you look like a couple? You’re obviously too young to be looking the sort of way most lovers do and where the fuck do they see any love anyway?

“Uh,” Donghyuck begins but can’t seem to form a sentence.

Before either of you can say anything, the woman is called by another customer and you look at each other at the same time.

“We should go,” he says, quickly, “before they realize we’re not buying anything.”

You nod and sneak out of the shop as quickly as you walked in, Donghyuck suddenly picking up the pace till you’re at least a few blocks away.

“You’re so slow,” Donghyuck teases, laughing when you reach him, out of breath. He adjusts his shirt, dark as always, such that it doesn’t stick out of his pants awkwardly anymore. The tattoos on his left arm catch your eye, muscles beneath flexing as his moves his arm, a strange pattern of ink. You don’t think they’re real if you’re being honest—that field of sunflowers. They’re too pretty.

You’re so annoying, you think, despite the smile forming on your face as you follow him down the lane.

What a frustrating personality, the thought crosses you at night, as you kick away the blanket at your feet. He ended up paying for some ice cream at a nearby shop anyway, right after you’d finished having your stolen goods by the dog park. He said summer needs some ice and he’ll oblige just this once with whatever few notes he has left. (“Summer just ended, idiot.” “I can’t hear you.”) The first bite had immediately given him brain freeze, a whine escaping his lips as he held his head in an attempt to soothe it. You found it cute—yes, cute, a terrible choice of words for him. It doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself. It’s almost within his personality to intrude upon your thoughts like this—gods, you hate even the letters of his name that form so easily in front of your eyes.

The buzz from your phone gives you a fright as you quickly open it to two texts from Donghyuck. You adjust the brightness before you read it, your heartbeat embarrassing you at its rate.

demon child, 11:36 PM

btw today wasn’t a treat you still have to pay me

food is expensive you know

You smile. A part of you warns you shouldn’t.

demon child, 11:37 PM

or you can pay for next time

Your smile drops. Next time? What is this, a date? You shake your head instinctively. Like you’d make it out alive of a date with Lee Donghyuck.

you, 11:37 PM

sure thing little stingy man

demon child, 11:38 PM

wow that was fast do you like me or something

You roll your eyes. You might have really decked Donghyuck in the jaw in another timeline, where you knew how to deck someone in the jaw.

You feel a certain static in your heart, hoping you’re mistaken as you respond to his texts for the rest of the night. Lee Donghyuck needs to have the last word all the time, and you lose count of how many times you huff, only giving in when the tiredness in your eyes seeps to the rest of your body.

You think you smile in your sleep that night but you can’t be sure.

The thing about bad days is that you notice nothing outside of them when you’re having them—but you forget you ever even had them when you’re not.

You end up at school with a lack of will to pay attention to classes. It’s well into the semester, and that means it’s time for you to get to some serious studying, except, well, you can’t. You’re decent at academics—or so you’d like to think. You’re average at best and there’s a nagging thought eating away at your brain at a painfully slow rate.

The college application deadlines are near.

It doesn’t help to be second and third best at almost everything. You nod along to everything Jihyun is saying; really, he aces every subject without trying. His words aren’t exactly…encouraging. You thought his notes would be your ticket to a dream college except he’s not quite the person you should be asking help from.

You’re suddenly not sure about all the friendly competitions you’re running.

You’re starting to feel too worked up these days, worry tugging at the back of your head every moment. It’s lonely when your friends are busy with their own struggles so you stay quiet. You’re a big kid, you tell yourself, you got this.

Except you really don’t.

“Woah,” Donghyuck interrupts you and Jihyun. “You look like you used the dryer on the wrong setting.”

Sometimes, it’s really not the best of situations to have your seat beside Donghyuck. You glare at him, keeping your notebook on the table with a loud ‘SLAM!’ You turn your head to find him smiling. Oh, he better not start now.

“Ah, (name),” he says, grinning, “what’s got you so upset today?”

“Nothing,” you insist, trying your best to control your scowl.

It’s been two weeks since you ‘hung out’ (committed minor crimes) at the bakery. Your friendly bickering since then has been not-so-friendly, you think with a grimace. He’s been getting under your skin—not a favourable thing when you’re against Lee Donghyuck.

“(name).”

You look up to see Jihyun, almost always devoid of any emotion behind the eyes—even if he’s smiling.

“The notes you asked for,” he says, keeping the notes on your table and turning around, almost as if he’s glad to be rid of conversation.

“Oh, and,” Jihyun turns back around. “If you’re hoping to get into any college at all, I hope you keep the right company.”

There’s contempt in his voice and your eyes trail to Donghyuck’s, a little confused if not bothered. You shouldn’t be surprised to find him grinning, laughing almost. You think Donghyuck’s confidence is a good substitute for a leather jacket.

“Hey, come on now.” Donghyuck leans back in his seat, smiling like a kid. You wonder where all that sunshine’s coming from. “Are you still mad about me beating you at that MUN thing?”

Jihyun smiles. “Don’t jump to conclusions. I wasn’t referring to you, of course. And there’s worse things you’ve done.”

Your teacher walks in, drawing everyone’s attention instead as they scurry back to their seats. Donghyuck’s eyes linger on you for a second longer, his face blanched before he turns away and rests his chin on his palm. You think you weren’t supposed to steal so many glances at him throughout the class.

The day somehow manages to draw energy out of you even further. Worries aside, Jihyun’s been strangely demanding—are you even that close? Should he be asking you to bring things this way? Should he be making you run errands? You’re so close to losing it before you realize you can’t. He’s helping you, sort of. You groan into your hands during break, ignoring Donghyuck’s eyebrow raise from beside you. It’s unfair and while you’re sure it’s all light-hearted, you have another name to curse when you run into a problem. Ah, the scorn of high school kids is truly incomparable.

You almost sigh in relief at the last ring of the bell for the day, getting up a little too enthusiastically. You get some admonishment from the teacher at that but you forget once you’ve reached the gates, almost running out faster than your friends. They let you go with a laugh, your desire to get home and take a nap triumphing every other thing on your mind. Some days are meant to be forgotten.

Cursed as you are, you bump into Donghyuck a few blocks from the bus stop. He adjusts the collar of his plaid shirt in a hurry, the black T-shirt underneath so worn out, you wonder how many years he’s been wearing that. The symbol on his baseball cap is probably related to a demon cult, you think. It being related to a metal band is also a possibility.

“(name),” he says, grinning. “What a coincidence.”

“Don’t pick a fight now, demon,” you huff before he can continue.

“I didn’t even say anything.” He raises his arms defensively. “Yet.”

You have the intense desire to punch him. When did the tables turn to this? Weren’t you supposed to be the calm one?

“You had fun running errands for President Snob?” he snickers.

“Well, I didn’t want to,” you say, your shoulders dropping, annoyed as you are. It makes you a little upset for something to affect you that much. You wish you were like the kids who barely cared about things like college applications, enjoying life either way. You wish you didn’t have this strange pretence of a person you are. You wish you were like Donghyuck.

There’s a pause.

“Come on. Don’t let anyone push you around like that.” His voice comes off as exasperated. Donghyuck isn’t the kind of person to let worry show.

You look up, a little surprised. Before you can open your mouth, he cuts you off.

“There’s some festival going on at the centre,” he says with a shrug. “Lots of food trucks. Wanna come?”

You furrow your eyebrows, a frown taking shape over your lips.

“Stealing off others doesn’t exactly make me feel good about myself,” you say, hugging yourself. As fun as the adrenaline rush was, it’s better to stick to morals, whatever they may be.

“I’ll pay,” he says, his smile incredulous. “I promise.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, you got a credit card lying around somewhere?”

“Nope,” he responds, rolling his eyes. “No credit card. Don’t believe in money.”

“Then how do you plan on paying?” you ask, frustrated.

“Trust me,” he whispers, urging you to follow him.

It turns out Donghyuck happens to know every food outlet in the city and also happens to have been kicked out of half of them, which is oddly impressive. He’s also worked several jobs in local eateries, the old ladies more than fond of him. (“Who wouldn’t find my charming smile adorable?”)

“You hobgoblin,” you exclaim, huffing. His story about vandalism on the bleachers shouldn’t have been as amusing, or endearing, for that matter.

“According to our lovely folklore, hobgoblins can warm your heart,” he replies, as-a-matter-of-factly.

“That is definitely not true. You just have to respond with something, don’t you?”

“And what of it?”

A (surprisingly) within-speed-limits bike ride away, you end up in a flurry of colours and crowds—you gasp at the large line of food trucks lining the pathway leading to the people’s square. You’ve never seen this before, looking from place to place. A lot of them look like they’ve come from pretty far.

At the square, there are wooden stalls of food out for trial by the people, shopkeepers encouraging the few tourists there are to try the local food. You spot various fishcakes, dumplings and street toast with glimpses of strawberry and banana milk decorating the stands in between. There are old upbeat songs playing through the speakers attached to the electricity poles, faint enough to be drowned out by crowds but loud enough to enjoy a little dance to. You didn’t realize you were smiling till you turned around to see an amused look on Donghyuck’s face.

Time only seems to fly—like when you’re done with your favourite song and it just wasn’t long enough so you hit repeat. The truth is, a song is barely four minutes—and yet you feel like you saw a movie, a story in it; so very curious because you were so sure it was too short.

Donghyuck walks side by side with you to where his bike is parked. (You wonder if he ever travels without it. Gas isn’t exactly cheap.) There’s little distance between the two of you, something neither of you seems to notice. You bite into the sugar candy, the sudden crack sound in the quiet lane making the two of you laugh despite the surge of sugar on your tongue. You forget what you were talking about.

“Why do you even steal, Donghyuck?” You ask softly. You paid for some food today, some were free samples and mostly, there was nothing illegal involved. Donghyuck didn’t particularly want to cause trouble either. You don’t want to be a bad judge of character.

“Because I can.”

What an expected answer. Is there anything Donghyuck can’t do?

“Don’t you feel bad?” You raise an eyebrow. He’s always been so confusing, but when he starts to make sense, you feel like you should’ve seen it that way in the first place.

“Are you talking about our sweet bakery? You really think a company as big as theirs would notice some free samples are missing?” Donghyuck says, making a face. “In a city no one cares about?”

You don’t say anything, puffing your left cheek in contemplation.

“Look, I could spend the rest of my life looting as much as my arms could carry and I would never be able to make my crimes pose even the smallest threat to a single shitty millionaire.” Donghyuck waves his hands about in a gesture that implies indifference.

You suppose he’s right, walking up to him and continuing your journey up.

“I’m not justifying myself,” he says, voice softer, shoulders relaxed. “Stealing’s bad. Other people are affected. I know. It’s just that I like having more choices than they give us. We should try everything we can, you know?”

Is that why he’s always up to something? Flitting from club to club in school, running around the entire city like it’s his own?

He shakes himself immediately, cringing. “Ah. Ew. I can’t believe you’re getting to my head, sunflower. Yuck. You’re ruining me. Did I just monologue?”

“Oh, okay.” You cross your arms. “That’s my fault now. It’s a good thing to be honest, asshole.”

“La, la, la.” Donghyuck puts his fingers in his ears, sticking out his tongue. “Can’t lecture me if I can’t hear you.”

You punch his shoulders, his laugh accompanying the evening blooming in full colours above you as you forget you’re already on your journey back.

You reach Red’s before nightfall, a sort of pitstop for kids like you when it’s time to go home before the night soaks into you. Donghyuck feels lighter in his chest as he enters, the jingling pleasant and the smell of waffles even more so. He just can’t believe you’re the reason he’s here.

“Obviously, we’re going for chocolate waffles,” he says, crossing his arms.

The tables outside are better than the stuffy humid air inside. Donghyuck’s complaining didn’t let you take even a step inside.

“We just ate,” you reason, your eyebrows furrowed. “And honey is always better!”

“Eh, what do you know?” he says, resting his elbow against the table. “I was raised in this diner, newbie.”

“Yeah, you and a million other rats.”

He presses his tongue against his cheek to stop the smile, although he reckons he’s doing a terrible job of it.

Get yourself together, one voice pipes up in his head.

Or say it. Ask them out. Yeah, the other voice is a piece of shit. That’s not going to work out.

Donghyuck didn’t realize he’d fallen silent, a daze over his eyes. He blinks a few time to regain focus, the peach hue across your cheeks coming to his attention. It’s adorable, if he could just reach out and place his palm against your cheek, just lean over the table and—

Fuck. No way.

“Stop staring at me like some sleaze,” you huff, eyes flickering between him and the table.

“Why would I stare at you?” he retorts, resisting the heat on his face. “You’re not that pretty.”

“Right,” you say, rolling your eyes as you hold your arm.

The lights lining the eaves flicker on almost at the same time, the sky still in transitionary lilac and you look up with your lips parted, something akin to curiosity in your eyes. Pretty. It could just be the reflection of the lights though—Donghyuck’s not exactly the poetic type. He wants to curl his lips at the notion, but it’s not very smart to have all his thoughts show up on his face.

“Can we stay here a little longer?” you say, eyes still on the lights, occasionally shifting to the sky.

“Your parents will worry.” Donghyuck thinks for a moment before mumbling, “It’s not safe.”

“Then drop me home,” you say, your eyes shifting to meet his, an unusual confidence in them.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the skip of his heartbeat.

Donghyuck thinks he should pat himself on the back for not speeding all the times you were with him on his bike. He loves the thing to death, although he’s had it for barely a year. The jolt of adrenaline and the freedom blooming in sprouts within his ribcage should be a dead giveaway to what he feels about speeding. Donghyuck’s never really cared about rules. Break them, bend them—it’s up to him and he loves that feeling of control. Whatever people think of him, they’re nowhere close to the truth. They’ll never know just how much he has everything under control.

Except you.

How annoying, he thinks to himself as he feels the speed picking up and your distant warmth behind him. He feels a little tingle in his chest, the way he always does when he gets the urge to do something reckless.

What if he were to speed up just a little? No, that would be childish. He should definitely not do that.

You wrap your arms around his waist with a squeak at the sudden jerk as he revs up the bike, a grin growing on his face despite his attempts to hold it back. You’re warm, compared to the sharp winds grazing him and he wants you to hold onto him like this a little longer. If he’s not childish now, when else will he be?

You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep, faint sunlight hiding behind the curtains ready to present the evening to you. A celebratory nap for the end of the deadlines that’s been haunting you overextended a little bit more than you’d anticipated. Just a few more weeks and it’s the finals and then, it’s all over. You stretch your hand out to switch on the lights, groaning when you can’t seem to reach it and reluctantly getting up.

You startle, a little yelp leaving your mouth at the knock on your window. What in hell? Either you haven’t slept enough or you slept too much.

You let out another yelp when you see Donghyuck’s face. There’s a band-aid over the line of his jaw starting to peel off and another one over the bridge of his nose. His hair looks recently washed, underneath the cap he’s wearing the right way for once, a pleasant smell wafting off him. You wonder what the occasion is for him to have cleaned up like this.

“Did you just climb up to my window?!”

There’s a pause.

“Yes.”

There’s another pause.

“Anyway,” he continues, “Since you’ve been enjoying my premium Haechan recommendations lately, I’ve got another plan for you.”

“Haechan?” You tilt your head. “Full sun? Is that why you call me sunflower?”

Donghyuck’s cheeks colour. “That’s- That’s not- We’re going to the club today!”

You find the sudden fluctuation in his voice cute. You suppress your smile, before giving in to his constant nagging for you to hurry up and follow him. (“Why would I get out through the window?” “Won’t your parents, like, kill me if they saw me at your front door?”)

There’s no bike today. In a way, you’re sad it isn’t there; the memory of your arms around Donghyuck making you feel hot in the cheeks for wanting it again.

“I finished my budget for fuel because of you,” he complains.

“No one asked you to be a show-off,” you retort.

He opens his mouth but says nothing, resorting to pull a face at you instead. Public transportation it is today. Even if there’s, what, nine subway stations in the city, Donghyuck seems to have already planned out the route. He walks with a bounce to his steps, turning around to walk backward facing you just to laugh and call you slow.

You run up the stairs to the station, another evening beginning something yet anew. The clouds disappear, replaced with the tiles of the station roof as Donghyuck eyes something in the distance.

“Oh no,” you say, your gaze traveling to wherever his is fixed. “We’re paying for the tickets. Hell, I’ll pay.”

Donghyuck grins at you and before he can make the stupid decision of jumping over the faregate, you grab the back of his collar, a choked sound leaving his mouth. You pull him by the sleeves of his hoodie to the ticket machines, relatively empty when the old folk use the ticket booths instead.

“You’ll go to jail if you murder me,” Donghyuck says, whining as he massages his neck. “It’s not pleasant, let me tell you that.”

“You’ve been?”

“Not yet.”

The club Donghyuck was talking about turns out to be more of a music joint, really. The letters ‘No Smoking’ spelled clearly beside the entrance, you eye the guard nervously. A rather skinny man who seems to be in his early twenties, you wonder how Donghyuck knows him as he lets the two of you in. You don’t have time to ask as you’re pulled in, a gasp barely leaving your mouth at the force.

It’s different inside. It’s not as dark as you’d expect, a rather mellow set of colours spread through the place. There’s a band playing songs from the 80s, the sound of indie rock pulsing through the place. Some people are dancing, some sitting at the round tables, looking as if they’re waiting for someone or, at the very least, a pretty stranger.

You look up at Donghyuck, a hum on his lips as he thinks.

“The song’s so boring,” he says finally. “Let’s change it.”

“It’s a live band, Donghyuck.” You deadpan. “You can’t press next here.”

“It’s called requesting, stupid.”

Donghyuck runs off before you can say anything, suddenly awkward about standing alone in a room full of people. You look around—the amount of people isn’t too much but at the same time it’s much more than you see in your average crowded room. Most of them are sitting, now that you see clearly, some with ramen on the tables, some with beer and chicken. There’s a bar at the other edge, people joking with each other over drinks.

You’re not sure how you’d describe it but it smells like people in here.

You look around further, curiously, at the beige wallpaper and vines decorating the edges—it’s larger than you thought a club would be. (But really, the only images you have are of purple and blue lighting on giant drunk crowds when you think of clubs.)

“Hey, pretty.”

You startle at the voice, an older man standing beside you. He seems to be a little old for a college kid, a rather impish look on his face with a very prominent grin.

“Uh, hi,” you say, unsure.

“You don’t come here often, do you?” He leans his left side against the wall.

“No, not really.” You’re a minor. Technically, you’re not even allowed in here.

Your nervousness seems to have shown up on your face because the guy straightens, a little smile on his face.

“Woah, don’t look so worried.” He laughs a little. There’s a scent of alcohol in his breath. “Will a friendly handshake make you feel better?”

You look on, a little unsure but definitely surprised. You go along with what he says, the movement of your hands in the childish pattern bringing a smile to your face till eventually, you’re laughing.

“I don’t mean to be too forward,” he says, “But you’re, like, a kid, right?”

You straighten, stammering out words of denial. You don’t want to be kicked out. You’ve never been kicked out of anything before.

“And that’s your boyfriend right there?” He asks, pointing over to Donghyuck having a conversation with the bass guitarist.

You think you turn pink, but you shake your head vehemently.

“Well, don’t worry, kid,” he says, laughing. “Enjoy it while you can. Not everyone gets to have a partner in crime.”

With that, he walks off to the bar after a wave of goodbye and a smile, making you wonder if adults really are the same as you. You smile a little to yourself.

You yelp when you’re grabbed by the arm, Donghyuck’s own arm linking through it.

“I’m gonna teach you how to dance,” he says, grinning. “Be prepared to thank me.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him and right when you open your mouth the next song starts with a drum solo. You look at the band, confused. They’re all grinning, however, and soon the song steadies into an upbeat sort of mood. You think you smile, but it’s probably just in the eyes.

“Eyes on me, loser,” Donghyuck says, smiling wide at you.

You turn back to him, an indescribable amount of emotions surging into you. Lee Donghyuck is a phenomenon of a person, you think, almost ready to voice it out loud.

More people join in with the dancing, the place seeming much fuller now that you see everyone up. You catch the man from earlier throwing you a wink and a finger gun in a friendly gesture. You laugh in response, Donghyuck complaining about your lack of focus. (If you’re being honest, you think he meant your lack of attention to him.)

You can’t count the minutes or hours—what’s the difference, really? Donghyuck smiles through his eyes, telling you you’re a terrible dancer (and that, of course, not everyone is born perfect like him). You learn to love the unknown songs, each note catching on to a new piece of your heart as Donghyuck shows you a move to copy, singing along gibberish lyrics to the songs he doesn’t know. It’s weird how you can mould into songs like this, songs you don’t even know—their beats pulling out different people and melodies making that person familiar.

There’s a soft halt when Donghyuck catches something through the corner of his eyes. He makes a face that spells out ‘yikes’ before leading you off the dance floor, snaking through the crowds till you’re back to the entrance.

“What’s wrong?” You say, eyes scanning his face.

“Oh, nothing, really,” he says, an unsure lilt to his voice.

Your question answers itself at the gruff voice barely audible over the music, a notch louder than when you’d entered.

“Hey, kid!”

Your heart jumps against your ribcage at the uniform of a police officer by the entrance, thinking whether everything really had to go wrong right now. Is underage dancing a crime? You didn’t drink and—oh, the entrance probably said 19+.

Donghyuck’s eyes flit from place to place looking for an escape when the officer confronts him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“You’re the kid that’s been stealing around the shops, aren’t you?”

“Uh, no?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, the expression on his face almost comedic. “You’ve got the wrong kid, officer.”

“And what might you be doing in a club? Where’s your ID?”

“About that…”

Donghyuck pushes the man with his elbow, leg extending to trip him, catching him off guard. You’d even be impressed if the loud crash didn’t make you yelp in surprise, looking at the two of them with terrified incredulity.

Donghyuck takes off running almost immediately after before backtracking and gesturing at you exasperatedly. “You know you’re supposed to run when I run, right?”

“What the fuck just happe—”

Donghyuck doesn’t wait to explain, gripping your hand in his and tugging you to match his insane pace as you exit through the entrance.

It takes a while to reach the subway station even at that speed and with the distant shouts of the police officer prompting you to move faster. The sky’s much darker now—you think it must be well into late evening before night gets ready to clutch the time. Donghyuck moves with careful calculation, taking turns in places you have no clue about and soon you’re running up the stairs with your breath barely caught in your throat.

The station lights are dim but you’re good as long as you don’t trip over something. You turn to the ticket machine in panic when you hear the officer’s voice by the gates.

“No time!” Donghyuck pulls you away, effortlessly jumping over the faregate and looking at you expectantly.

“I can’t do that, Donghyuck!” you complain, panic rising in your chest, adrenaline drowning the rest of it.

Before you can say anything more, Donghyuck reaches over the gate, pulling you up by the waist and grabbing your hand all over again to run down the stairs to the tunnels.

“Hey!”

You hear the shout of the lady behind the ticket counter, clearly having seen your misconduct as you pray for her to forget your face. You’d like to be able to use the subway for future travel.

The train’s about to shut its door when you reach. Donghyuck treads quickly on the stone before he jumps on, pulling you in just in time to avoid getting caught in between the sliding doors.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of heavy breathing and the movement of the train on its tracks, the burning in your throat drowning out other senses. You slide down to crouch on the floor, your face hot and sweat drenching your forehead and neck. Your shoelaces are undone, you notice, no energy left in you to reach out and tie them into your perfect knots.

There’s a few moments of silence as you regain your composure.

“What was that?!” You laugh, unable to control yourself as you clutch your stomach. “You almost got arrested!”

He joins in with his sunny laughter, crouching down beside you. “Man, I really thought I was done for.”

After a few moments, Donghyuck sits with his legs crossed atop the passenger seat, the coach mostly empty save for you and an old couple at the far corner. He animatedly recalls a story of another near-arrest he had, with you laughing beside him.

A thought passes you in between jokes and stories—what if everything was like this always? Just the two of you, in a room full of people, in a room without people. You think you’ve started looking at Donghyuck a bit too much. You’re not sure about regretting it.

Donghyuck’s been getting the strangest of impulses these days.

He tilts his head away from you to check the time on his watch, the gentle weight of your head on his shoulder reassuring, even if it’s hard to admit. It’s half-past ten and he’s been staring at you for a little over an hour now. Who falls asleep in the subway? Sure, there being not many stops, the journey between each is longer but Donghyuck wouldn’t be caught dead drooling on someone’s shoulder like this.

You shift, Donghyuck immediately moving to cradle your head with his hand so it just doesn’t drop off. Your lips are puffed even in sleep as if you’re still caught in an argument with him. He chuckles to himself. It’s so like you.

Cross the line. The voice in his head says. Just dip your head a little and…

Your head leans into the skin between his neck and shoulder, a shot of electricity pulsing through him at the contact. There’s a race of thoughts within him, thoughts he shouldn’t be having.

What is he so afraid of, really? What is he, Lee Donghyuck, so afraid of? Love? That’s the lamest thing he can think of.

It’s true, though.

Fucking voice of his conscience—loud thoughts are more a pain in the ass than anything else. Donghyuck will resort to cowardice if it be so. He’s not going to be reduced to something he’s not just because he’s head over heels in his own feelings for you.

Donghyuck pushes the hair from your face, craning his neck to be able to see you better. Wanting to love, wanting to be loved—what a stupid thing to fear. He sighs, closing his own eyes and checking the time once again. He’ll wake you up in a few minutes when your station’s near.

You stop at the medicine to store to buy antiseptic cream and some band-aids. Donghyuck says he doesn’t need it, he has some at home but you must be good at convincing. There’s a little garden of scratches on his palm even he’s not sure when he received.

You sit in the empty parking lot, under the only streetlight that seems to be working in the area. The convenience store beside you is there to provide its twenty-four-hour lights if not anything else. There are some people out on nightly walks, you notice when you look at the sidewalk. It surprises you a little to see shapes of people against midnight blue.

You’ve never been out so late. You text your mom to remind her you’re still alive before you can turn your attention to Donghyuck.

“Okay! Enough!” He retreats his hand, complaining. “My hand smells like a pharmacy at this point.”

You lean back against the streetlamp, sighing.

“I can’t believe we ran away from a police officer,” you say, a goofy smile on your face as you stretch your arms in front of you.

“There’s always a first.” Donghyuck grin. “You don’t have to thank me for that, by the way.”

You roll your eyes. “One of these days, you’ll regret it. How long do you plan on being reckless?”

“How long do you plan on pretending you don’t enjoy it?” He asks, face leaning in with a sly smile.

You think you feel heat on your cheeks, you can’t be sure, but you end up scoffing, a rather losing response to someone who’s used to winning.

“You’re clearly into my devilishly handsome face,” he continues with an exaggerated shake of his head. “Does my recklessness turn you on? Don’t you think I look good? You can’t blame m—”

This brat.

You yank him by the cloth of his hoodie to get face to face, noses almost touching. Watching the confidence drain from his face, you’d laugh but it’d just give away the sudden adoration you feel. What a shame this demon was blessed to be so cute.

There’s a pause the length of a breath.

Donghyuck’s eyelids flutter close just as he presses his lips against yours, a soft sound escaping yours. He places a hand against your cheek as nimbly as possible, something pushing him to deepen what you have. You give in, humming into the kiss as you pull yourself closer.

For all the havoc he wreaks, Donghyuck isn’t necessarily a bad kisser. His lips are soft—his investment in lip balms improved since you first met him and the scent of whatever he used is delicious.

It’s a few moments of kissing when Donghyuck suddenly pulls back.

“I don’t deserve this,” he says, eyes flickering.

You look on, unsure. It’s not like him to falter. “What- What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he responds, looking at his hands, “that I’m really not good enough. I’m just- I’m not who people think I am. Hell, I don’t know who I am. It’s just- I don’t-”

You place your hand against his cheek, his rambling fading away as he looks into you.

“Even if you like me because you think I’m fun,” he continues, “I mess things up, you know? I mess things up really bad. If you get hurt- If- Ah, I don’t know what to say.”

“I really like you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, “but you’re making no sense right now.”

There’s a pause within the night air.

“I…I put a kid in the hospital,” he says, voice low and upset. “In middle school. I- I didn’t mean to! I can’t remember what happened but…we had to pay the bills and- and we’re still recovering.”

There’s a stifling silence. You lift his chin up so he faces you, the inability to see his expression troubling.

“I still feel guilty,” he whispers. “I do things for fun. And I fuck up the consequences.”

Donghyuck’s calculating and careful. You already know that.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, not finding any better words. “We’re big kids now.”

“But that doesn’t mean—”

“I’m not saying anything like that,” you interrupt. “We’ll still fuck up, you know? Adults fuck up. Doesn’t mean we don’t do things at all.”

“God, I hate you lecturing me,” he groans, looking away.

You crack a smile, still holding his face, the side without the band-aid. Donghyuck doesn’t say you’re right, a short chuckle on his lips instead before he leans in to peck you on the mouth, slowly turning into another kiss.

You think you hear the buzz of fireflies, spring’s darlings, although you didn’t know they’d be found here. Donghyuck looks pretty under the streetlight, as you connect mole to mole, an airy feeling in your chest, almost bubbling over.

You want to tell him he’s amazing, but you figure you’d tend to his ego some other day.

“Hey, you got that leather jacket!” you exclaim when you walk into class, Donghyuck’s head in Renjun’s chokehold.

He’s quick to defend himself, shaking Renjun off him and scoffing. “I didn’t get it because you said so, obviously.”

You shake your head with a laugh, sitting at your place. Donghyuck smiles to himself before dropping it to shoot some comments at Renjun.

“Nothing going on with our precious demon there?”

You look up to see Jaemin smiling at you, clearly onto something. You haven’t told anyone yet, every rendezvous a ridiculously honest secret.

You turn your head to see Donghyuck consuming a bag of hot Cheetos in what seems to be a competition with Zhong Chenle. You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows at the scene. What’s even going on in their heads? If anything at all, that is.

Jaemin clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him. He has some sort of expectation in his eyes.

You laugh, more than enough to answer him. Really, being fond of Lee Donghyuck shouldn’t feel so much a crime as the city lights in his eyes do.

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what-if-nct · 2 years

Note

(same guy from last post — same warnings)

—

rahhhhh trust if i knew someone who was in a gang i would of set him up to get stabbed to death by like 4-5 men and then pray to jonghyun to bring him back to earth do he could suffer more before he goes where he would beat him up more but he gonna help me with this girl anyways because she might have some injury to her brain making her go into a coma or something he’ll always have my back i know it

if i ever go to court, my cousin will have my back. well… all of them will but especially the 28 year old one which i will call her mvp but the girl i beaten up is also a onew stan but i’ll call her an npc because it makes the most sense lol (i’m sorry but that nickname is hilarious when i sing it “noona you’re my NPC” 😭😭😭)

oh yeah for the others, i’m gonna call the dec 18th girl a locket (or a taemint since she changes it a lot in every comeback 😭), her best friend who she has comforted her through dec 18th a flame and one of the guys (we call him felix lol — ok fine i don’t have any ideas he had ginger hair ok) who had came up few years after the npc’s boyfriend (yes, THAT’S her boyfriend and also they were on a date together since she was wearing a dress (the type where you go out with) and they looked like the mean couple like the team rocket from pokemon where they were wearing matching colours like black and white — haha i ruined a date) came to apologise on what happened and that if anything happened, he would back me up in court alongside with proof (which i didn’t see the pictures since why would you want to watch yourself getting rApPé and reliving your trauma again?)

but yeah… my mom knew about it since i literally cried when i came back home because i ran home crying with just my bleeding underwear and a shirt i had. i haven’t washed the underwear ever since so we could show it for evidence and stuff. my dad knew either, but he just claimed that it was my fault i couldn’t keep my legs closed as a “young lady.” first of all, i was TWELVE. second of all, i’m a BOY. third of all, wow victim blaming, how original. didn’t see that before eh? fourth of all, just wtf- fifth of all, this is my second wtf and sixth of all this is my THIRD wtf like WHAT? i literally wanted to throw him to the moon so jonghyun could use his bat to hit him with like we’re playing baseball. yeah of course, this was a year before dec 18th but seriously, i still want to throw him to the clouds so he could hit him to the next dimension. i could imagine a smily jjong hearing me saying “BALL” and he would get his bat ready to hit so FRICKING hard that nobody could catch him.

naurrrr he better give that npc a sike when her ghost comes up like he be looking at her and be like “welcome to heaven! SIKE! now get back down you BITCH! not you cutie! aww you’re such a cute gurlllll- now make sure this npc doesn’t die for me, ok honey?” and then starts patting his dog like has never said those stuff. why is that so hilarious to think like that lmaooooo 😭😭😭 (it’s a coping mechanism to process what has happened)

but yeah… it’s nice to see that you’re doing well. i just got myself checked at the hospital and i only had a bruise and a cut on my right cheek so- also she had long nails so it probably cut me 😭

also my sister was unharmed which i’m glad, but she’e also gonna have my back since she remembered the day it happened and she thought it was just my period (because she seen videos) but then i explained it in a way her little mind could understand and that day on i even showed her some self defence skills i’ve learned that she could use since this could happen to her regardless of her age. i was 12 and she was 8 so this pretty much explains the age gap. she’s my little blinger i raised and she’s still a blinger until this day. she haven’t changed her bias at all and doesn’t plan in changing it, although she does love the other members. i could call her my little blinger, but i think sister makes sense unless if i do get another little sister which… may or may not happen but my mom is quite young so maybe…? she had me when she was about 28 making her 46 which i think it’s a little old but still a chance. she did tried to get another baby when i was 8 but had a miscarriage and haven’t tried again ever since. she might be done with kids, especially my dad.

I really hope that guy gets everything he deserves in which ever way the universe and Jonghyun sees fit. And what you're dad said is so horrible and I'm sorry that you had to hear that. You were 12, you were a child it wasn't your fault at all, it's really not fair that something traumatic happened to you and you were blamed. I am so sorry all of that happened to and I really am hoping that the guy and his girlfriend are haunted with what he did and her complacency of his actions as well as how she's treated you. I hope they have no peace. Also little sisters are like built in best friends and even if you're the oldest they will defend and fight for you like their older. And the relationship you have with your sister sounds so wonderful and I can tell you're the best big brother.

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lucky-sevens · 4 years

Text

mechs deep lore compilation post

so! maybe you’ve read the other compilation post i made of basic lore/how to get into the mechs! maybe you want to know more! or maybe you’re a fan already and want to see how deep down this rabbit hole you can get!

well, good news for you: i have gone down the rabbit hole and hit bedrock only to find maki yamazaki standing by my side with a pickaxe! it is time for mechs lore part 2: electric boogaloo also known as ‘wow blue have you considered sleep’

rest under the cut!

i’ve tried to organize this, but given how many random facts there are, it’s hard! decided to start off with lore for each character (in order of them joining the mechs in-universe), including all the carmilla lore at the end; then move into general world lore/a bit of album lore, and finally more obscure/unknown facts, such as explaining the whole scuzz thing! also, citing the sources has been difficult, as a lot of things are from, say, old twitter posts and the like. there might be less links here than you all would like, but bear with me- compiling all this lore is quite difficult!

disclaimer: unlike stuff like the wiki, this includes a lot of my own theories and red stringing, and while i’m noting if something’s fanon or canon, the fanon may occasionally make its way into my theories!

links to the songs will be mostly TheVoidSings’ youtube lyric videos, as i don’t want to find the links to all the different platforms they’re on and the videos are lovely and accessible!

also- i’ve done some significant editing on the mechanisms wiki, as have other talented people- go check it out! it’s a good source of lore!

now on w/ the actual post!

crew

jonny d’ville

his lore is fairly concrete, but since he’s an unreliable narrator, we don’t know what bits can be trusted! his backstory song is one eyed jacks, which gives a pretty clear picture of events, but here in his crew bio he says that he made up new texas, and doesn’t have a very good memory of events in general. (it’s implied that he didn’t lie about killing his father, but we don’t even know that for sure.) a note: unlike the others, we don’t know what happened to his heart in order for him to be mechanized.

the aurora

the aurora’s lore is a mess. here’s what we know for sure, which is an edited version of what i have on her wiki page, (where i have also given a list of her known physical attributes);

she started off as a moon, but was weaponized and turned into a ship. she initially was a navy ship, but mutinied and joined the rebellion, participating in the october revolution, in which nastya died and was mechanized. this may have been her choice, but it is more likely that carmilla and/or jonny forced her into it, as they are the ones who won her from the cyberian navy.

when they stormed the ship, a woman was trapped inside- specialist 278 tereshkova, presumably aurora's programmer. What her and aurora's relationship was like is unknown, but aurora did not make any attempt to save her, so it may have not been positive. before dying, tereshkova managed to program a final distress message into aurora, as well as coding the mechanisms' blog.

she’s likely to be based off of the historical battleship aurora, like nastya is based off of the historical russian princess anastasia.

now, it’s time to get into the main theory about her: that aurora used to be briar rose! i’m collecting all the evidence on it, as well as all the evidence that can disprove it.

here’s a refresher on briar rose’s whole deal, taken from ‘the aurora strikes’-

The Rose Reds were the most effective of the soldiers created from Rose's genetic material, but they were not the first. Rumours spoke of an early prototype, known as the Briar Rose, that had malfunctioned and slain everyone on the desert moon of Briar, where she was being grown. But she was not dead. As the Mechanisms discovered, instead, she slept, at the heart of the defence grid that surrounded New Constantinople. The grid was composed of Thorn-class gun emplacements and was virtually impenetrable. And in its centre, the Briar Rose slumbered, plugged into the system, her anger, her rage, her hatred and her fear, fueling the machines, and focusing their gun turrets.

the main support for the theory here is that over time, briar rose could have fused to the moon, which is one of the very few conditions in which a biomechanical weaponized moon seems plausible and not just like a collection of vaguely cursed words. however, in the fiction ‘by any other name’, which is some collected lab research on briar rose, there’s this line- “During transportation and integration of the specimen, take all precaution and care.”- key word here being transportation. so she must have been moved off the moon.

the fiction i cited to disprove the theory actually has something that further supports it, though- the presence of a mysterious woman in king cole’s lab, who could be carmilla. hood, the revolution’s hacker, notes on a picture of her ‘[No idea. The others I’ve been able to find evidence of, but she’s a fucking ghost]‘. the description is a bit off, though, as she’s described as a short, pale, woman with hair long enough to be pulled back and carmilla is quite tall and has short hair- as well, in a later part of the fiction, the woman is killed and does not revive. however, there’s also another who could plausibly be her, noted here- ‘A tall woman sits opposite Prof. Root with a tray of her own. From her stature, it is conceivable she was one of the figures in the chemical suits. They talk sporadically, but the audio is heavily corrupted.’ she isn’t one of the ones killed later on, either, so that’s possible.

we know carmilla knew aurora when she was a very young moon and raised her practically from birth, so if she is one of those two people, it would make sense.

in ‘the aurora strikes’, aurora pushes to save briar rose- nastya explains this as ‘she can not bear to see another biomechanical organism in pain’. in my own writing about aurora, i interpret that as her having very high empathy, but there could be a more personal connection here. this is also notable as the only time aurora is mentioned in-album beyond jonny calling the mechanisms ‘the crew of the starship aurora’.

nastya rasputina

nastya’s backstory song (cyberian demons) was only performed when they were still dr. carmilla and the mechanisms, so it’s harder to find! thevoidsings has made a lyric video of it here, though, and it gives another very clear picture of her backstory! there’s also the fiction of the same name, which i didn’t understand upon first read-through but is basically a nastya character study, covering different points in her immortal life.

her performer went on hiatus for a while, and as an in-universe explanation, the cyberian sequence was written! in which nastya flies aurora to cyberia, infects herself with a computer virus, and transmits it to the entire planet, causing it to explode. this is all in the cyberian demons fiction i linked above, and with it are two other tangential fictions- one presumably just before those events, and one that’s an outsider pov.

there’s also out, which i’d suggest reading rather than just looking at my summary; basically, nastya has a crisis over aurora changing so that it’s harder to recognize her love, and ends up leaving the ship to float away into deep space- this is presumed to be her death, but that is never confirmed and nastya seems to assume she will wake up at some point.

ashes o’reilly

ashes’ whole deal is quite straightforward, which is a nice break from aurora and (to a lesser extent) nastya! their backstory song is lucky sevens, and it’s elaborated on further in their crew bio; interestingly, ashes was the one most into the idea of immortality at first, and also gave clear consent to carmilla.

ivy alexandria

we don’t know that much about ivy, which is fitting, as she doesn’t either! the most clear information we can find about her is in her crew bio, which can be summarized as: she grew up in a library!

archive footage explains more about her memory situation. she has no memories of anything before she was mechanized, according to this line ‘[...] she can tell you dates, and places, and body counts, she can list for you the exact circumstances of each event of her long, long life (at least, every event since that time, long ago, among a maze of bookshelves in a library that, awake, she can no longer describe to you, though once she knew its every turn by heart, when a woman stood over her and offered her eternity: before that, there is nothing at all).’ she also processes her memories differently than most people- they’re more like records, instead of things that affect her emotionally. (archive footage is also beautifully written and very much worth reading!)

the toy soldier

would say it has concrete lore, but it’s also almost solely responsible for fucking up my timeline and the album lore, so i’m rather angry at it. nevertheless, its entire backstory can be found in the fiction ‘the story of the toy soldier’. additionally, there’s a short story about its time fighting in the revolution of once upon a time (in space); presumably, this is the first time it did so, though it was likely in the war at least twice and possibly even three times. the mechanisms were only watching the second time, though it’s not out of character for it to have participated in the war again, and there’s also the dr. carmilla song, eleven, (which is about a war and uses a lot of rose symbology so it’s likely the revolution) where it is present. notably, carmilla had left the mechanisms by the time once upon a time (in space) takes place on their timeline, and the toy soldier is the only one there. at first, i interpreted that as carmilla meeting the toy soldier before it had met the mechanisms, but there’s two inconsistencies there: firstly, it doesn’t recognize her when it joins the band, and secondly, in the song they leave together. this increases the likelihood of it having been in the war three times.

we actually have a recording of the toy soldier’s first time joining the band- the mechanisms @ lashings! (part one / part two / transcript) there’s also a note of that show in the story of the toy soldier! they bought it because jonny was in jail (x). interestingly, that show is the first recording of rose red, and it’s later noted jonny was in a rose red prison!

now it’s time to get into the main theory regarding it, which also will factor into the write-up of ulysses dies at dawn later! i personally subscribe to this theory, or at least, most of it.

here is frankie @byron-von-raum‘s post- the theory here is that the toy soldier is the rebodied mind of the widow’s fiance. i’m not going to get too into that part, as i don’t personally incorporate it into my lore and more importantly frankie already has a post on it! read that if you’re more interested!

the most important bit here is the evidence it collects regarding the toy soldier living near labyrinth; in one of the pictures from the toy soldier’s backstory, there’s a dionysus brand wine bottle. the consensus he comes to is that the toy soldier lives in a colony of earth that trades with labyrinth, and while i think that’s possible, the all-encompassing nature of the city makes it more likely that they would have a minimum of outside communication, so the toy soldier would just be from the city proper. i will get into the impacts of this/expand on it more in the world lore section!

another thing: the angel has an out of character explanation! if you look at photos of old mechs gigs, jessica law looks similar to the drawing of the angel in the story of the toy soldier! their voice being stolen was most likely a reference to that.

drumbot brian

brian’s backstory is laid out in his crew bio! i’d summarize it, but to be honest, it’s already a summary, so i’d suggest just taking a second to read that! sadly, this is all of what we know about it. the priest from his backstory was apparently made almost immortal in some twisted form of mechanization, and has never forgiven brian for it/is still trying to hunt him down (x).

his bio is also where his morality switch is introduced! (interestingly, it takes a far lower role/is mentioned far less in canon than in fanworks.)

there was originally going to be a backstory album about him called indistinguishable from magic. this never happened, but ben below is working on a new one called the wanderings of drumbot brian! no more knowledge on this currently.

the main theory about him is that he had some kind of alliance/is lying about something to do with carmilla! we know from maki that carmilla didn’t go out of the airlock (more on that in her section), and when brian is questioned on what happened to her, he doesn’t give a concrete answer. this is in contrast to all the other mechanisms, who assume she fell out an airlock. here’s what he said:

I will not point fingers and lay blame. I do not know how it came to pass that Dr. Carmilla left this vessel, whether by fair means or foul, and so I will not engage in this painful discussion. I hope she did not suffer, and that we may forgive the perpetrator of this deed.

he’s speaking very formally here. (fucking nerd). well, no; legitimately, this is not the normal way he speaks in other contexts. he could be masking something. we know that even when he’s lying, he’s not good at it, and this comes off as clearly odd. in support of this, i believe one of the songs on his unwritten backstory album was called ‘the doctor’s demise’ (though i could be remembering incorrectly).

there’s not much more evidence we can draw on here to come to a consensus, though!

something else to note- i’ve written this other meta about his prophetic powers! feel free to read if you’re interested in that aspect of his character!

gunpowder tim

of course, tim already has a whole mini-album to himself (gunpowder tim vs the moon kaiser), but there’s a couple more niche things about him, though not as much as aurora and ts!

mainly, the implications that he destroyed the sun. there’s an old mechanisms tweet that states he 'was floating in the wake of a detonated star’. additionally, there’s this old blog post, which turned into a bit of a fiction! the figure speaking is not named, but given the other mechanisms who speak (therefore knocking them off the possibilities list) and the fact that the post was made around the time tim joined, it’s likely that it’s him. now, he says this:

“It wasn’t the deep space that drove me crazy,” he said, his voice low, calm and polite. “It was the sudden realisation that I was entirely responsible for the destruction of my entire civilisation, and happy for it.”

though destroying the moon and his other actions in gptvtmk could possibly count for this, it would fit more if he had destroyed the sun.

both those posts also imply that he was floating in space for an incredibly long time. i don’t know how he survived if so, but it seems very likely that’s what happened.

i considered these posts being too early/having a changed canon now, like the odd use of different pronouns for some characters in the earlier fiction, but they seemed to have gunpowder tim vs the moon kaiser mostly worked out by the time tim ledsam officially joined, as they perform it at the only recorded gig from that year with him (port mahon 2011), which was around when the second blog post was made!

marius von raum

we don’t have a written backstory or backstory song to go on for him, but kofi young (his performer) is working on a full album about him called ‘the death of byron von raum’!

the blog post kofi made about it as a summary is the main source of marius lore that we have! i’d highly suggest reading it, but the main points are:

1. it’s going to be very dark and tragic, and shows that marius at heart isn’t really the kind of comedic figure that he comes off as in the band! ruth @thedreadvampy (the mechanisms’ official artist, as well as morgan’s sister and kofi’s partner) has also made a tumblr post that connects to this!

2. the world he’s from used to be high-tech, but has devolved over time into 18th century levels of technology! what this boils down to is; what we assume is marius and an unknown friend (more on this in raphaella’s part) manage to discover ancient technology and attempt to use it! all we have here is this quote om the blog post- ‘In the middle of this, two kids hiding from the soldiers discover an army of ancient mecha and use them to fight back, but only end up plunging the world into further chaos.’.

3. anime protagonist marius!

we also have this small piece of writing, screenshotted here (monogoggle...)-

[image id: a screenshot of writing, most of it out of view/hard to make out. it’s also in the middle of the line, so the breaks are off. however, it looks to say ‘at the controls of RISML/cockpit is cramped and d[...]/has his monogoggle over his/controls are uncomplicated/the neural interface. They [...]’ end id.]

raphaella la cognizi

i’ve been very deep down the mechs rabbit hole for over a month now, and yet i’ve found hardly anything about her!

there’s a small theory i have, though it doesn’t have too much supporting evidence! in marius’ backstory, it mentions two kids, and raphaella and marius joined together (first mention of either of them is together, in this facebook post!) when questioned about marius and raphaella, nastya says a story instead of stories (x). (that post also clarifies that carmilla was not involved in either raphaella or marius’ backstories!) this could potentially point to raphaella being the other person from marius’ backstory. the evidence against it is that if raphaella featured that heavily, r. l. hughes would have said something about the album as well instead of it just being kofi talking about marius, but it’s still interesting to think about!

there’s also a theory that she was the preacher’s daughter from brian’s backstory, but the only real evidence there is that she could have used his tech to mechanize herself (which her doing is only fanon!) and that she performs ‘lost in the cosmos’.

dr carmilla

this is most likely going to be the shortest section, as it’s basically another crew member; that being said, there’s a lot of lore here!

if you haven’t listened to the carmilla albums, i’d really suggest doing that! there’s two- exhumed and (un)plugged and ageha prototype edition! the story there is harder to put together than in the mechs backstories, especially because the songs are mostly out of order, so i’ve decided to just straight up summarize my interpretation, along with what we have to go on from maki, instead of framing it like a theory, as that’s the easiest way! still, please bear all this with a grain of salt- it’s most likely to be contradicted in the new album maki is working on.

carmilla and her girlfriend loreli lived on a planet called terra. for their childhoods, it was a fairly okay place to live (though i elaborate on this a bit in the world lore section!) however, it was bombed; most likely taking the role of an alternate universe hiroshima, as the blurb on her bandcamp says ‘Dr. Carmilla tells the twisted tales of a dystopian future following WWII having ended very differently.‘ after this, the planet sunk into a nuclear winter.

loreli got sick and died; or, she should have, but carmilla saved her by turning her into a vampire as well. this resulted in loreli losing her morals and becoming abusive towards carmilla. carmilla was too deep in love to see this, and stayed in the relationship for several years.

we don’t know what happened to make her strike out on her own, but eventually she did, and created the mechanisms. while with them, she recognized her own failures with loreli, and left the mechanisms (which they all believe was caused by jonny d’ville pushing her out an airlock, rather than her own volition.)

from there, she traveled back in time to the point where loreli was dying, and let it happen- potentially burying herself and loreli alive, which she survived due to her immortality and loreli did not.

however, she was trapped underground for a hundred years. when she is finally found and dug out, she starts enjoying herself (i.e. committing murder). for some unknown reason, she clones herself multiple times, creating the in-universe version of maki yamazaki.

the mechanisms assume she pursued them after she was pushed out of the airlock, and that that was what eleven was about, but i’m not sure why she would do that, given that she left them of her own volition. because of time shenanigans, it could have been far later on her personal timeline; maybe she simply wished to reconnect with them after all those years.

that’s all we have; we don’t know if she died, or anything like that!

world lore

all the folktales and normal history the irl mechs work off of also exist in-universe! (for an example- the toy soldier and ivy start reciting the walrus and the carpenter together in lashings, and the mechs also do alice in wonderland as a song.)

we know the alternate universe theory is correct, mostly because of this piece in the fiction on kofi’s blog-

In those burning instants, he’d feel the weight of it all, and know it was true. The golden age that never came; the city that stood at the dawn of a world instead of in its dying embers. And beyond – to a myriad of Camelots and a thousand thousand Arthurs, unfathomable worlds apart, each different, each fighting the same hopeless battle.

He’d feel the burden of that task pressing down until it felt like it’d crush his chest, and he’d wake every day gasping for breath, feeling older than he ever had, older even than Ector.

And as he screamed inwardly, Galahad would meet his gaze with those crazed eyes of his and grin, and Arthur would know again that whatever had spoken to Galahad was moving him too.

the mechanisms are most likely traveling between several alternate universe versions of folktales, and occasionally alternate versions of earth! (cyberia, tim’s earth, terra...) this is likely why everyone in their stories is human, and is actually low-key evidence against drawing them as aliens (though ofc feel free to have fun!)

i was initially going to put all the album lore in its own separate sections, but a large amount of it is how it intersects with other pieces of lore, and the rest isn’t necessarily niche enough to cite here? my personal advice is that if you want to learn more about the albums, read the fiction! i have a compilation post of all the fiction up on this blog, and you can find it on the website here!

let’s start with the mechanisms’ roles in ulysses dies at dawn, though! we know for sure ashes is hades, brian is the oracle of delphi, and the toy soldier was a nymph (which is actually quite worrying, considering what that means and the inherent issues with consent there, but i digress.) tim most likely took on the role of achilles (more on that here). then, we know some of the mechanisms’ activities and can guess their roles from that. raphaella was helping athena on her research, marius was psychoanalyzing the olympians, and jonny was committing mass murder. it’s a common theory that one (or three) of the mechanisms was cerberus, but sadly i couldn’t find any evidence towards or against that.

i said in the toy soldier’s section that i would talk more about the implications of it being from labyrinth here! the main thing is the fact that, for it to join the rose red war, the city must have interacted with king cole at some point. it’s a risky thing to pose a theory on the toy soldier’s allegiance towards a certain group, but the fact that it seemed to stick with the rose reds here might also mean that the city was, in fact, under king cole’s power. this fits in nicely with the greek mythology aspect of it all; king cole, in that universe, could have been a stand-in for the figure of kronos/saturn!

a few other theories on how the lore intersects:

1. high noon over camelot takes place after the bifrost incident! in terminus, we see communication breaking down, and that could have been the reason the station was isolated. the mechanisms go from it to the bifrost incident, but as they canonically travel in time, that’s not enough to disprove the theory!

2. arthur becomes king cole eventually! this is mostly going off of the fact he’s called ‘the once and future king’, but also the fact that cole used to be considered a good king.

a few loose pieces of worldbuilding:

people from new constantinople seem to be longer lived, and their culture is built around age as a concept. the older you are, the more wise and important you are. specifically, in this fiction, snow is dismissively noted as ‘barely fifty’ and king cole’s age is held up as evidence to why he’s a good ruler.

terra, carmilla’s planet, has two major languages; high terran and low terran! high terran is a more regulated, formal way of speaking, specifically something that only the rich and privileged tend to know. there are many dialects, but the grammar is dictated by the capital. low terran is a creole language formed from several others, including high terran, that most children are taught in school as the baseline. (though they might speak a completely different, less widely spoken language at home!) carmilla speaks low terran but not high terran (although she pretends to know the latter.)

the mechanisms were all (or mostly all) at fort galfridean at one point; don’t have the source to hand, but marius apparently became a prophet to the saxons for staring into the sun for a very long time.

if you’re looking to draw album fanart, there are a few things i know aren’t as widely known; the ones i can think of off the top of my head is orpheus having a ‘foppish haircut’ (the type of thing that falls under that definition is narcissus’ undercut), and snow’s disfiguring scar. there is also official album art; i, personally, have not seen much of it, and i’d encourage coming up with your own character interpretations.

one last theory- it’s highly likely carmilla was involved in the events of the bifrost incident. in the mechscord (sadly, invites are closed due to the difficulty with handling the boom in the fanbase) maki yamazaki has mentioned that part of the criteria for picking a mechanism is ‘good friend for lyf’. at first, i assumed that she meant good friend for life, but when asked on that she was worryingly cryptic (as tends to happen), and she made a joke earlier in character as doc c about accidentally calling odin. though immortal lyfrassier edda most likely became fanon just so they could become a mechanism, this is a piece of evidence towards them actually becoming immortal.

my personal headcanon is that to gain true immortality (which maki has said king cole and the olympians do not have) you have to have some kind of eldritch component, so carmilla had to go to odin for aid. this is supported by the fact that in drive the cold winter away and cyberian demons, their mechanisms are noted as having a rainbow sheen to them!

other lore

scuzz nishimura

scuzz has built up a bit of a reputation for being the ‘cryptid mech’, but her lore is really quite simple! she was a member of the band back when they were doctor carmilla and the mechanisms, but left before they became more popular, so there’s not too much knowledge about her. she appears in this fiction and the only two recorded gigs from that era (lashings and homesick). she’s also visible in several photos!

i know i’ll get people in the notes asking for photos of her if i don’t include any, so have this;

[image id: a cropped picture of scuzz nishimura, looking tired and resting her head on her hand. she looks to be wearing white gloves and some kind of sweater or waistcoat, and her hair is cut short. her cello is also visible, as is someone else’s hand. end id.]

we don’t know too much about her; all we really have is that she was their cello player!

assorted things with no explanation

there’s this old piece from the wayback machine-

[image id: a screenshot of what looks to be the fiction page from a old site for dr carmilla and the mechs. the writing reads;

Writing

( The Aldwich Horror } A short story in which Dr. Carmilla attempts to solve the mysteries of the Aldwich Horror, the strange appearance of a new crew memeber and several zoologically dubious pets.

( Disinterration } A cautionary tale about exhuming corpses.

end id.]

‘disinterration’ is most likely a reference to the carmilla song exhumed, but i’m unsure about ‘the aldwich horror’. the most intriguing bit there is ‘the strange appearance of a new crew member’. i’ve researched the other aspects in an attempt to figure this out. aldwych is a closed london tube station- it served as a bomb shelter during the blitz, which is interesting as both carmilla and tim have backstories involving the world wars (though only carmilla’s is world war ii specifically; tim’s is wwi). the zoologically dubious pets are most likely the octokittens, which we know the toy soldier brought on board, so it would have to be in a place on the timeline after ts joined and before carmilla left. the only mechanism that joins in that space is gunpowder tim, so it’s possible that he is the new crew member.

the mechanisms blogs have a lot of incidental lore, so if you’re this deep in i’d suggest looking at my compilation post of some of my favorite posts of theirs!

and that’s it! we did it! i can finally go to sleep now. i’m so tired. please. i am going to die. i have homework. thank you all so much. please consider coming to my funeral service.

#the mechanisms #the mechs #my posts #compiliation post #meta

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ssson-of-sparda · 3 years

Text

A Trip To The Beach - Part 1 (Dante x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Dante's tab is nearly erased. After Patty finds a letter you wrote to Dante years ago, the girl decides to pay you a visit to know why and how things ended between you and Dante. (Part 4 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Tags: Pre DMC3 Dante / Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Fluff / Blood and Gore / Minor Character Death / Violence

Author’s note: I've decided to divide "A Trip To The Beach" into two parts because it was way too long. The next part will be the end of this story. Thank you for reading and sorry for keeping you waiting.

MISSION 4

Despite the menacing grey clouds fading the picturesque view before her, there was something adorably charming in the house Patty was looking at that should have made the girl feel rather at ease. And yet, she couldn’t move a muscle. Stress probably. Stress, yes. She thought as she glanced again and again at the letter she was firmly holding in her hands. She repeated the address out loud, checking again for the umpteenth times if she was at the right place and wondering if she should be here. What if Dante learnt about her being here? What if he learnt about her sneaking into his personal stuff? About her stealing this letter in the drawer of his desk? The one Y/N had written him years ago. The questions popped up in her head one by one as quickly as Dante’s devastating bullets and tied her stomach in a knot. She had never been afraid of Dante. Not really. And she wasn’t sure she was afraid of him right now. Maybe she was simply afraid of hurting him.

“This was a silly idea.” She sighed and finally turned around to leave. Maybe if she hurried up she would be able to catch the next train back to Red Grave before the storm and be home early enough to make Dante a strawberry sundae.

The wind suddenly blew hard, so hard it was gusty enough for the pink ribbon in her blond hair to be blown away. Patty gasped and quickly ran after the long piece of silk trying to catch it back. But it somehow landed right in the flowered garden she hadn’t dared step foot in and Patty couldn’t help but see it as a sign of fate. “Can I help you?” A sign of fate she couldn’t ignore now.

Y/N was as pretty as Patty had imagined, maybe even more. And as she kept on observing her, her little turned-up nose purposely plunged in the tea mug so that she would not have to speak (a premiere in her life), she wondered how and why Dante had let her go (She had jumped to this conclusion when she had read the letter she found at Dante’s in which Y/N was asking him to come back to her). “ Would you like another biscuit, Patty?” The blond girl shook her head nervously. “Or a strawberry sundae maybe?” Patty froze and her blue eyes fixed at Y/N in panic. “If you’re friend with Dante I assume you must have them quite often.” There was no bitterness in her voice, just a motherly sweetness tinted with a bit of sadness. “ How?” “ The letter.” She nodded at the envelope sticking out of Patty’s pocket. “How’s Dante?” “ He doesn’t know I am here!” Patty confessed rapidly as if to exonerate Dante of her presence here. “And he doesn’t know about the letter.” “That’s alright. Relax.” Y/N smiled, amused, as she put her mug on the coffee table. “I was just asking. Curiosity.” And care also. “ Oh … Then I guess he’s … Dante.” The young girl finally said after searching for the perfect word to describe her friend. “You know eating pizza and strawberry sundae everyday … and sleeping all day long.” Y/N frowned. That was not the image she had kept from her ex-boyfriend at all. A lazy pizza and sundae lover sure but there was something off in Patty’s description. “Oh and losing at gambling which probably led to why I’m here.” “ What do you mean?” Y/N raised an eyebrow; genuinely curious though amused to know Dante had not improved his gambling skills since the last time they met. “ Let’s say he owed me so much he started selling pieces of his past to pay me back.” The woman laughed. That sounded like Dante for sure. “He started telling me about you because I asked him why he loved strawberry sundaes so much. And then he kept extorting me and used my curiosity at his advantage.” “ How much did he owe you?” “ Six strawberry sundaes. A dozen ice-cream cones. Two dresses and one trip to the beach. He stills owes me a trip to the beach though.” “ Of course he does.” Y/N scoffed as she took a sip of her tea. “ Fortunately I’m a very patient woman.” Patty declared as she started drooling over her homemade raspberry-filled biscuit. “ Well, I guess you have to be when you hang out with somehow like him.” Patty’s eyes darted back at Y/N who was now stirring her tea even though she hadn’t put any sugar or milk in it. A defence mechanism, Patty thought. “ Is that why you two broke up? Because you lost patience?” Patty dared ask even though a part of her had a feeling she shouldn’t. “ No. No. That’s not because of that.” Y/N admitted. “We broke up because Dante couldn’t help being Dante.” “ I always tell him his uncouthness drives women away.” Y/N had a sad smile that Patty immediately noticed. “Sure he lacks manners but that’s not why we ended things. We ended things because … I guessed he cared too much for me.”

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - Part 1

She could remember that day as if it was yesterday, every detail of it. From the moment Dante kissed her good morning to the moment he kissed her goodbye. She could remember his smile, warm and beguiling. She could remember his tears, cold and desperate. She could remember everything about him, everything about her.

She was wearing a red summer dress. Dante’s favourite. He used to say it was because of the colour. “You know how much I love red, baby.” But she knew it was because of the way it hugged her figure so beautifully. He could pretend to be a gentleman but he couldn’t fool her. She could tell he was lying just by the way his hands would grab her curves each time she was near him in that dress.

They had parked the car by the beach. An old red convertible he claimed to be vintage when it was just a piece of junk. If he thought any sort of romance would happen in it, he was clearly wrong.

Don’t tell he already had this awful car! Don’t tell me he still has it!

But Y/N wasn’t sure Dante was in the mood for romance or any sort of distraction. He looked preoccupied, very preoccupied, and she knew him all to well to know that this anxiety – or whatever Dante was feeling right now – was nothing good. After all, one could use many adjectives to describe Dante but anxious and preoccupied, no. He was too carefree and devil-may-care for this.

“Something’s wrong.” Y/N said as she looked up at him, her head on his shoulder. Dante sighed. “Nothing.” “That was not a question.” She clarified and watched him leave her embrace to pick a beer in the cool bag they had especially prepared for their picnic at the beach. “Talk to me.” But he didn’t. “It’s better if you know nothing.” She frowned, not enchanted at all to be left in ignorance. “Better for whom? Me?” He remained silent again and she felt anger starting to grow in her chest. “Answer me, for god’s sake! It’s been days, Tony! Days since you’ve been acting strangely. Days since Enzo came to visit to tell you god knows what.” Dante’s eyes met hers and he could finally see how furious and sad she truly was. “What? Do you really think I can’t put two and two together? Do you think I’m that stupid?” “No.” “Then what’s going on?” Dante opened his mouth but was quickly interrupted by a strange noise coming from Y/N’s purse. It was her pager furiously vibrating and ringing.

Pager? Welcome to the nineties, Patty.

“It’s my parents. -Emergency at the restaurant. Need your help-.” She read and sighed. “I got to go. But this conversation is not over, Tony.” “ I know and I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just … just give me time to make sure …” But he didn’t finish his sentence. And why would he? The last thing he wanted was for her to worry and telling her ‘Just give me time to make sure you’re going to be okay.’ didn’t sound very reassuring, right? “Make sure of what?” “ I love you, Y/N. You know that?” He cupped her soft cheek and caressed her delicate skin with his thumb. She nodded. Of course she knew. He didn’t have to say it. But she hated secrets and right now he was too secretive to her taste. Nevertheless, she indulged his desire for a loving kiss when Dante’s lips came to claim hers. “I love you too.” “ You’re staying at my place tonight?” She nodded. She could never deny him, especially when he was so sweet.

So that’s why you broke up? Because he had secrets? No. Not because he had secrets. Because of something more complicated than that.

The second the bus dropped her off at the stop a few meters away from her parent’s diner, Y/N knew something was wrong. The reddish pink neon sign of the restaurant was not shining like a beacon in the street and inside the lights were all off. Weird for a Friday night. She walked to the door anyway, holding on tightly to her purse, a worried frown creasing her young face that soon became as pale as milk when she noticed that the door was slightly ajar. She should have called the police or even her boyfriend. Surely that would have been the wise decision but when she heard a loud noise coming from the inside, she instinctively rushed in.

It had come from upstairs, from where her parents lived. Y/N climbed the stairs one by one, quickly but cautiously, with a lamp she had picked on a table in her hand to use as a weapon though she wasn’t sure that would be enough to knock out whoever had broken into the place. She could hear her heart beat loudly in her chest, ready to explode, Thump Thump, and her foot creaking the wooden floor more and more with each steps despite all her attempts at remaining silent. Creak Creak. Creak Creak. Splish Splash.

Y/N suddenly stopped and looked at her feet. Her sandals were wet. Water? But the bathroom was too far away and the liquid felt weirdly warm and way too dense. She squatted down and slowly touched the flooded floor with her fingertips. She shivered at the sensation. This felt weird, slightly sticky even. Oil? No. It wasn’t slimy enough to be oil. It was something else. She looked closely, searching for a source of light. Fortunately she didn’t need much to realise that the liquid tinting her skin was dark and … red?

Her eyes widened when she understood she was squatting in a pool of blood. Horrified she tried to get up and run but eventually slipped and squealed when she fell on her butt and the red splashed and drenched her dress and her naked legs.

Her half-eaten biscuit in her hand, her mouth agape, Patty was staring at Y/N, unable to move or to look away. This story was fascinating … scary but fascinating. And Y/N had better storyteller qualities than Dante. He always had the tendency to exaggerate. “What happened next?” Patty demanded with an over-excitement she knew was certainly inappropriate. “Next …” The doorbell rang loudly and Patty jumped and squealed. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened when the bell rang again, this time almost furiously. “I guess we have an impatient visitor.” Needless to say, Patty exactly knew who that was. “Oh no.” “Don’t worry. I’m sure a nice strawberry sundae will calm him down.” Y/N smiled and got up to welcome the person impatiently waiting under the porch.

#devil may cry #dante #dante x reader #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #a tab to erase #patty lowell

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