#breaks down into a giggle fit about the master being blonde (which he keeps trying to explain and failing to and that just leaves the master | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genesisrose74 · 4 years

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Hinata Shoyo x Reader: Good Unexpected

Hello there! This is the first time I’ve ever posted any of my writing, so I hope you enjoy reading! I had a really fun time writing about my favorite ray of sunshine and may or may not have gotten carried away with the word count whoops :P Constructive feedback or just comments in general are welcome~

Word count: 6600

Warning(s): None

Another close win for Karasuno’s male volleyball team had a crowd on their feet and a roar echoing throughout the building. There were five volleyball courts in the structure, but none had a more rambunctious crowd in that moment than the once Flightless Crows. The match wasn’t an all too significant one, but it claimed the boys another opportunity to play in this charity tournament, and that’s all they needed to keep their drive going. In the chaos of cheering students, players on break, family members, and those who had simply been enraptured by the match, a duo of young females ushered out muffled apologies of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ more times than they could count as they edged their way through. A short blonde stuck closely beside her fellow classmate in the sea of people, letting out a breath of relief upon seeing a gap to a less crowded section of the stadium.

“Yachi, could you text Kiyoko and tell her we’re on our way? Takinoue and Shimada said they’d take care of the banner since the next match is tomorrow,” you instructed.

“Sure thing,” Yachi replied with a small nod, fishing her phone from her back pocket.

You both continued your move down a set of stairs, searching for the main entrance to court three, on which Karasuno had just played.

“Hey, I think I see Tsukishima by the water fountain over there! The rest of the boys must be close by.” Yachi gestured to the slim middle blocker, donning the unmistakable Karasuno High VBC sweatshirt each player was given at the beginning of the season.

“Yeah, that’s him for sure! Good eye, Yachi!” you acknowledged.

Jogging over to the towering blonde, you flashed him a warm smile in greeting. Tsukishima replied with a brief nod, his usual hello.

“Hey, Tsukki! Where’s the rest of the boys?” you inquired, now used to Tsukishima’s little expressed enthusiasm, even after a victory.

“Daichi, Sugawara and Ennoshita are checking out the standings for who we’ll face off against tomorrow, Yamaguchi is in the bathroom, and the dumbasses who share one brain cell went to check if the snack bar was open. I have no clue where the rest of them ended up,” Tsukishima listed, scrolling through his phone.

Yachi giggled at his last description of what you could only assume to be Tanaka, Nishinoya, Hinata, and likely Kageyama. Those boys had a way of getting into the stupidest situations, and their immense distaste for anything school related made their title quite fitting, although it was safe to say that you had a soft spot for the knuckleheads - especially one in particular.

“Speak of the devil,” Tsukishima stated as he looked up from his device. Sure enough, two of said boys had returned from their little food run with bags of snacks in hand. Tanaka had already ripped open a package of beef jerky, two of the sticks stuffed in his mouth as he spoke incoherent words to his fellow second year teammate, Nishinoya.

“Hey boys!” you waved enthusiastically. “Nice win today!”

Upon seeing you, Nishinoya and Tanaka gasped simultaneously, the remaining jerky in the latter’s mouth falling onto the floor. You could see a grossed out Tsukishima cringe in your peripheral vision, but you didn’t really mind the duo’s antics at this point.

As everyone knows, Kiyoko was the team manager, an absolute goddess to all, and the master of avoiding the flirty nature of any guy she came across. It was evident that she had a huge effect on the rambunctious second years, two of them in particular melting any time they were given the slightest bit of attention (affectionate or otherwise) - and she could even pull a reaction out of the calmest of boys, including the ever respectful and reserved Karasuno captain from time to time.

However, despite a deep infatuation for the beautiful third year female, the team had been introduced to a new kind of character in the past year that had thrown Nishinoya and Tanaka into a frenzy: a competitive yet kindhearted first year student who just so happened to be a volleyball player herself: you.

You had arrived in the boy’s gymnasium one afternoon, on the day of the week that the Karasuno girl’s team had practice off. You were hoping to find some tasks or drills to help out with, just to keep yourself active during your free time after school. Since Coach Ukai always appreciated an extra set of hands, especially some that held experience, you began appearing as a regular during Wednesday practices, and the team took a quick liking to you.

Despite your focus and intensity whenever you were on the court, you were almost always there with an encouraging word or bright smile if the Karasuno boys ever needed, and your consistent sweetness caused many players to view you in a similar manner as Kiyoko. While the more reserved Kiyoko Shimizu was more or less dismissive of the constant attention she would get from boys, you were always happy to jump in and boost the team with your enthusiastic words and actions.

Nishinoya briefly brought up that he likes when girls compliment his hair? You make a little mention of how good it looks at the end of practice that day. Tanaka isn’t feeling particularly happy with his spikes? You’re sure to compliment him extra when he gets a shot off that he likes. Yamaguchi gets frustrated with his jump floaters? You offer up a few words of encouragement to keep him going. Even after practice is over and it’s just a normal day that you can spend time with the team, you happily accepted the compliments and the affection you received from the boys - specifically Nishinoya and Tanaka. Of course, you never lead them on or anything of the sort; you’re all just very close friends.

It was an interesting dynamic to say the least, but the differing personalities of you and the team manager Shimizu had two second year boys going wild to get your attention.

But, the two troublemakers had discovered who you had your sights set on pretty quickly.

“N/n! I didn’t realize you came to watch today!” Nishinoya grinned, quickly making his way over and wrapping his arms around your midsection. You laughed and placed a hand on the libero’s head, patting his hair gently.

“Hi, Nishi,” you smiled. “Of course I came to see you all. I couldn’t miss watching my favorite libero in action, now could I?”

“How did you think we did? Wasn’t that an awesome last set?” Tanaka joined in the conversation, giving you a side hug in greeting.

“Yeah, it was pretty exciting to watch!” you agreed. “I’m all for the heart pounding matches, so long as you boys keep winning at the end of them.”

“You know we will!” Nishinoya smiled up at you.

“I do know that,” you affirmed before looking around the space. “Tsukishima mentioned something about you and some of the other boys getting snacks, but right now it’s just you two. Where’s the rest of your little group of mischief-makers at?”

“Kageyama stopped by a vending machine to buy some milk. He said it was cheaper than the prices at the snack bar.” Tanaka clarified.

“Hinata decided to stick with him to talk about the team we’re likely playing tomorrow, but they shouldn’t be far behind us.” Nishinoya concluded, a small grin playing at his lips. “Speaking of which, didn’t Hinata do pretty great, N/n? You should tell him how good he looked doing those quick attacks out on the floor today.”

You stuck your tongue out at the boy who still had his arms secured around you.

“Very funny, Nishi.” you pouted. “At this point you’re not even trying to be discreet.”

Nishinoya was the first player on the team to pick up on your attraction to Karasuno’s prized decoy. You had nearly walked into the wall of the school gymnasium while shagging volleyballs during a hitting drill, watching intently as Hinata did his approach before jumping and slamming the ball onto the other side of the court with ease. It would have been incredibly embarrassing if anyone else had witnessed your distracted movements, but fortunately Nishinoya was the only one to see, and had prevented you from smacking straight into the side of the building.

Initially, the libero thought the mishap was merely because you didn’t want to get nailed by Kageyama and Hinata’s quick attacks, but then he watched you nearly choke on your water when Hinata tossed his practice shirt off the same night, leaving the you to gape in silent astonishment as the middle blocker searched for a less sweaty replacement. Since Nishinoya was already quite close to you at the time, he was quick to corner you about the instance and declared himself an unofficial wing-man when you admitted you had feelings for the ginger.

He may or may not have let the secret slip to Tanaka one night when the three of you were walking home - and then profusely apologized to the point where tears visibly brimmed in his eyes - but Tanaka promised that he wouldn’t say anything to Hinata. Besides, even if he did make a not-so-subtle mention about you to the aspiring ace, you doubted that the dense boy would even understand Tanaka’s implications.

Little did you know, you were just as oblivious as Hinata when it came to people crushing on you. And the two second years beside you knew much more than you did.

“Awe, you look so cute when you get all pouty,” Nishinoya chuckled, reaching up to tap you on the nose.

“Oh, hush. Don’t make me bring up the time when you went completely rigid after Kiyoko-senpai gave you a high five at the scrimmage against Nekoma last month,” you countered.

“Don’t you mean the greatest moment of my entire life?”

“Wow, I’m hurt that she gets a higher placement than me in that regard.”

Despite being quite a bit shorter than you, Nishinoya easily hoisted you a few inches in the air and spun around, eliciting a surprised yelp on your part.

“Nishi, put me down!” you squealed, albeit laughing while doing so.

“You know how much I love you. Kiyoko might be my queen, but you’re definitely an angel sent to grace us with your presence!” he declared playfully.

The libero gently placed his friend back on the floor, a lopsided grin on his face as she ruffled his hair fondly.

“I know, and I love you too, little Guardian Deity.” you conceded. “Now, show me what kind of snacks you bought. I forgot to grab money before I left the house, so I could use some food.”

“You got it!” Tanaka opened up his backpack filled with goodies and offered it out to you. “Take your pick. We stocked up on a lot of food to munch on for the team meeting later today.”

“Speaking of which, you should come and sit in on that! I’m sure the rest of the guys would like to see you,” Nishinoya added.

“Actually I was already planning on going,” you mentioned while acquiring a bag of pretzels from Tanaka’s stash. “I texted Kiyoko that I was going to be here today, and she said that if you boys got another win that I should come to the meeting.”

“Sweet!” Tanaka exclaimed. “Since it’s not all that late, some of us were thinking about having a small practice in the gym after. If you had the time, it would be fun to have you stick around and maybe play if you wanted.”

“That sounds like fun!” you smiled, “just make sure you all don’t tire yourselves out completely before tomorrow’s game.”

Tanaka gasped dramatically, “We wouldn’t dream of it.”

“-I’m just saying that you have a serious obsession with milk, Kageyama. It’s almost unhealthy.”

“Milk is a good source of calcium, you dumbass. So what if I drink a lot of it?”

“If you had the chance to marry a carton of milk, you absolutely would.”

“Would you shut up already?”

Two voices bickered back and forth as they approached the area near your little group. To anyone even barely associated with Karasuno’s volleyball team, these two arguing idiots would be easy to recognize from a mile away, and sure enough, a head of fluffy orange hair rounded the corner, quarreling with his dark haired teammate.

“Are they seriously having an argument about Kageyama and his milk?” Tanaka questioned.

“I’m honestly not even surprised at this point,” you sighed.

“Hey, morons!” Tanaka yelled at the two boys, who snapped their heads in the direction of their senpai’s distinct voice. “Quit fighting with each other and get the hell over here!”

You could feel your stomach flip involuntarily. Despite seeing the aspiring Karasuno ace many times during Wednesday practices and around school, it was always a sight to behold whenever he was suited up in the official team uniform. Hinata always got into these moments of intense focus during matches, which you deeply admired, and you affiliated such occasions with the jersey he always donned during each game. The look quickly became one of your favorites, but that piece of information was never shared with the boys. Only Kiyoko and Yachi knew about that secret preference, which they had promised to never bring up near any of the Karasuno team.

You were thrown out of your stupor when Nishinoya nudged you knowingly, a single eyebrow raised in a playful challenge. You only scoffed and shook your head, giving the libero a little nudge in return.

“Such a schemer, Nishi.” you murmured.

“You’re such a scaredy-cat.” he muttered in response. “Go compliment him about the game or something, you do it all the time with me and Tanaka.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Excuses, excuses~”

You huffed in exasperation, sparing another look at the little ray of sunshine with which you were so enamored. At this distance, the boy was close enough to recognize you, and you felt a gentle smile grow on your face when warm brown eyes met your own. You offered him a small wave in greeting, as you both were still a ways away from each other.

Hinata was quick to close that distance upon seeing you from across the hallway, making a beeline for the familiar girl that he had grown to love seeing walk through the gymnasium doors every week. He was glad to see you whenever he got the chance; you were always there to help him and Kageyama practice a few more quick attacks after practice concluded, always ready to try a few serves of your own when the boys wanted to get in some extra receives, always happy to help the young decoy with his studies when a particularly difficult exam was near. Not to mention, he found you to be the prettiest person out of his entire class of first years, so that was a plus.

The whole team may or may not know about Hinata’s very obvious affections, despite the boy not telling a single soul about the way his heart goes bwah!! whenever he thinks about you. Tanaka and Nishinoya found the entire ordeal utterly agonizing, being the only two boys on the team knowledgeable of your own feelings, and being sworn to secrecy about that fact. The Karasuno manager and the manager-in-training also knew the irony of the situation, but they didn’t dare meddle in your love life.

If your friends were all being honest with themselves, as torturous as it was to watch you two timid first years dance around each other’s feelings all the time, it was also incredibly adorable to watch your interactions. The usually loud and energetic middle blocker would lose all sense of function every time you would praise his game play, to the point where Kageyama had to kick his teammate from behind to get him to focus again. Hinata swore he nearly ascended when you had launched into his arms after beating Shiratorizawa in the Spring High Finals.

Yet, despite these moments of mutually lingering gazes and light blushes that often dusted both of your faces, the ginger rationalized that you acted this way towards every player on the team, and brushed such encounters with you off as nothing but platonic. He didn’t mind simply being friends, if that's all he could be. He was content so long as he got to be near you.

“Hey, Y/n! I didn’t know you were coming to watch the game today,” Hinata addressed you with a smile that put a blazing summer sun to shame.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! The student council meeting ended up being shorter than expected, so I called Kiyoko and let her know that I was on my way,” you explained. You then turned to Kageyama, who had eventually made his way over to the small group. “Nice game today, Kags. That one set you sent to Asahi in the second match from behind the attack line was insane.”

Karasuno’s starting setter nodded in acknowledgement of the commendation. “Thank you.”

Tanaka and Nishinoya, now standing next to their two teammates, aggressively attempted to gesture to Hinata with their eyes; a silent urge to get you to say something to the boy.

“And I think that one super fast quick attack you guys pulled off in the final set was really cool,” you tagged on. “It’s always fun to see the other team’s reactions whenever that happens.”

The two second years shot you a deadpan look. That’s not exactly what they meant, but they could see you struggling to string together any coherent sentence to your crush and decided not to press any further. You just couldn’t help it! You wanted to tell the present ray of sunshine that he played a great game, that he always played amazingly, despite his occasionally awkward receives or missed serves. He always gave each match 110%, and you wanted to express to him just how phenomenal he was, but just couldn’t find the right words without the fear of sounding completely obsessive and embarrassing. Nishinoya and Tanaka both glanced at each other, a silent agreement occurring between them in a matter of seconds.

Unlike Yachi and Kiyoko, the two boys weren’t opposed to a little meddling.

“Y/n is going to come to the meeting and maybe stay for that extra practice time we have planned,” Nishinoya mentioned, saving you from trying (and failing) to say anything else.

Hinata’s eyes lit up at the news. “For real? That’s great!”

The middle blocker enjoyed your presence at the Wednesday practices you’d attend, especially since it was where he got to witness your competitive and athletic side. So, getting to see more of that was welcomed any time.

You nodded in affirmation and popped a miniature pretzel in your mouth. “And since I was just dropped off at the complex and kind of need a ride, Kiyoko said that there was plenty of room for me to go back on the bus.”

“Hell yeah there is!” Tanaka grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “You can sit with me and Nishinoya, duh.”

You smiled up at him. “Well obviously. Who else would I sit with?”

Nishinoya cheered, picking his game bag off the floor and gently grasping your hand. “Well let’s go find the others, then! Coach Ukai is probably getting impatient waiting for us at this point,” the libero insisted, pulling you towards the doorway of the building with Tanaka in tow.

“Alright, alright! Don’t make me drop my pretzels, Nishi,” you warned, letting yourself get dragged by the excited teen.

Hinata, Kageyama, and Tsukishima also started to gather their things to get on the bus, Yamaguchi doing the same after exiting the bathroom not long before the previous trio ran off to claim their seats. Tsukishima looked over at Hinata, who still had his eyes glued to the door from which his friends had just left, and seized the opportunity to try to get under Hinata’s skin just a little.

“Nishinoya and her are pretty close, don’t you think?” he mentioned briefly, before turning on his heel towards the doorway with Yamaguchi beside him. The pinch server spared a glance back at Hinata as he fell into step with his childhood friend. “Tsukki…”

Now Nishinoya was clearly a close friend to Hinata, as both of the boys were big balls of energy all the time, and as they both shared an immense love for volleyball. Hinata acknowledged his teammate’s tight knit relationship with you, and he was totally okay with that fact. But occasionally, the middle blocker would get a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had never really experienced before as he watched you interact with some of the boys on the team. It wasn’t an excessive amount of instances, but that feeling would bubble up from time to time - most notably when you would spend time with Karasuno’s libero. And whatever that feeling was, Hinata didn’t like it in the slightest.

“Oi, you coming, dumbass?” Kageyama questioned, snapping the ginger out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m coming, Bakeyama,” the middle blocker replied, readjusting his backpack and following Kageyama to the door.

******

The team was glad to see that you had come to watch them play, and you were quick to praise the boys on their well fought match. The ride back to school was relatively quiet, as many of the players wanted to either relax and listen to music or take a quick nap after their tiring game. As the bus continued on its route to Karasuno High School, it was evident that the energy and adrenaline felt earlier in the complex had calmed down, the boys given a chance to rest from the day’s events.

You, Nishinoya and Tanaka were seated near the back of the bus, with Hinata and Kageyama in the adjacent row. Tanaka was out like a light, his face pressed against the cool window next to him, while Nishinoya was struggling to get situated in the spot beside his teammate. From the corner of his eye, the libero could see Hinata sneaking subtle glances at you, as you unsuspectingly gazed at the passing scenery. With a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips, Nishinoya decided to kill two birds with one stone: try to help out with his friends’ crushes, and try to get himself a more comfortable napping spot.

“Hey, would you mind doing me a favor?” Nishinoya asked you in a soft tone, but just loud enough for the boy on the other side of the aisle to hear. You turned your attention to the libero, tilting your head to the side. “Sure thing, Nishi. What do you need?”

“Could I maybe lie down on you? It’s been a little difficult to find a decent position to get comfortable in,” he asked sheepishly. “If not, I totally get it.”

You smiled at the light pink that dusted his cheeks, and you patted your lap. “It’s alright, go ahead. You deserve to get some rest.”

Nishinoya offered you a smile of his own. He placed his legs over Tanaka’s snoozing form, knowing that his friend wouldn’t mind as they had been in similar positions on previous team bus rides. He then placed his head gently in your lap, gazing up at you before speaking up once more. “Thank you. You’re seriously the best.”

“It’s not a problem at all,” you waved it off.

The libero closed his eyes, sighing contentedly when he felt your hand brush through his hair. You absentmindedly hummed the soothing melody to a lullaby as you let your fingers carefully undo any tangles on his head. You paid special attention to the blonde streaks of hair that you always told the second year you adored, twirling the strands between your fingers and letting them fall back into place.

You were completely ignorant to the fact that the boy on the other end of the aisle felt a burning envy in his stomach as he witnessed the display from his peripheral vision. Your voice, which would have mesmerized Hinata under any other circumstance, did nothing to ease the emotions licking at his insides like unpleasant tendrils of flame. He desperately wanted to be able to sidle up next to you, wanted to feel your hands weave gently through his messy ginger hair. The fact that it wasn’t him made Hinata feel nauseous - worse than how he felt before a big game.

Because although Hinata was absolutely fine with you being close to the boys on his team, it didn’t mean he couldn’t get jealous.

Seated beside the middle blocker, Kageyama took note of his friend’s clenched fists and slightly tightened jaw, a stark contrast to Hinata’s usual happy-go-lucky enthusiasm. One look at the opposite side of the bus blatantly explained why. Kageyama was confused, though; Nishinoya knew just as much as the rest of the team that the decoy had his sights set on you, so why was he disregarding that fact right in front of him? The libero either didn’t realize what he was doing would upset his friend, or he knew exactly what he was up to. Was the whole thing intentional?

*****

Ohhh, it absolutely was. Kageyama figured that much out as soon as the team meeting started.

Nishinoya had been occasionally looking at Hinata to gauge the boy’s reaction, being careful not to overstep his boundaries, but pushing it just enough to see if the ginger would step in and make a move on you. From what Kageyama could tell, Tanaka was also in on this plan, but the wing spiker let his fellow second year handle most of the interactions with the brunette.

You were settled next to Kiyoko on the gymnasium floor, sitting with your legs stretched out as you listened in on the meeting. Nishinoya had his head resting on your shoulder the entire time, only shifting from his spot to steal more snacks from Tanaka’s backpack. If it weren’t for what Hinata had witnessed in the bus earlier that evening, he likely would have thought nothing of the second year’s actions. But now it was all he could think about, barely even focusing on the words coming out of Coach Ukai’s mouth. That feeling in his gut still hadn’t left him alone.

His discomfort was even more apparent when a number of the boys stayed behind after the meeting for some extra practice. Sugawara, who was the only third year who decided to postpone his walk home (mostly to keep an eye on his rambunctious children juniors), helped divide the group of six players into teams. Kageyama, Nishinoya, and Tanaka were on one team of three, while Suga, Hinata, and you were on the other. Despite the fact that he was on the same team as you, the middle blocker was still in a distant mood, and this showed when he completely botched the first two sets Suga tossed to him.

“Are you alright, Hinata? You seem a bit off at the moment,” you spoke softly behind him. When the ginger didn’t answer, she frowned slightly. “Shoyo…”

His first name coming from you had Hinata’s face heating up, not just because he loved the way his first name sounded on your lips, but because he was embarrassed. His bitter emotions had completely messed up his game, and caused him to practically ignore your concerned inquiry.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just a little tired is all,” he brushed it off. “I‘ll be good to go now that I’ve warmed up a bit.”

“Oh, okay. Tell me if you need some water or anything, your face looks hot.” You instantly flushed at the choice of words. “I mean, it looks warm! Like a red - you know what I mean.”

Tanaka snickered at your stammering, and you shot him a glare of annoyance before turning on your heel to retrieve the volleyball that had rolled away from the group.

After that, the three-on-three game went pretty smoothly. Hinata was in a better mood, working well together with his two partners. You even got a few good spikes in during the match (although a majority of them were thwarted by Karasuno’s Guardian Deity). Before you all realized it, the moon was shining brightly in the sky, and Suga instructed everyone to go home and get rest in preparation for tomorrow’s first game. After putting back the equipment the group had borrowed from the storage room, you were on your way out the gym doors, until the voices of Tanaka and Nishinoya stopped you midway.

“Wait up, Y/n!” The libero called out to her. You turned her attention towards him, a soft smile resting on your face after the impromptu practice.

“There’s no way you’re walking home all by yourself at this time of night.” Tanaka declared firmly, and Nishinoya nodded his head vigorously.

“I’ll be fine, you guys. Besides, neither of you live all that close to me, so it would be unreasonable of you to walk me home,” you told them.

“Well, doesn’t Hinata live in the same area as you do? Why doesn’t he walk you home?” Nishinoya suggested.

On the other end of the gym, Hinata had caught wind of the conversation. The ginger’s head perked up at the idea of accompanying you home, and standing beside him, Kageyama finally realized what the two second years had been up to the whole day. You narrowed your eyes at the boys in suspicion, but you couldn’t deny that it was a good idea to have someone else with you at this hour. You gazed over at your fellow first years, finding that Hinata was already looking your way, and a light shade of pink dusted your face.

“I mean, if he wouldn’t mind it, I suppose it would probably be smart,” you shrugged.

“It’s not a problem at all,” he uttered out.

Tanaka and Nishinoya shared a sly grin. This was the most that the two could do for their two dense kohais, so the rest was up to you both.

“If you’re uh, ready to go, my bike is just outside,” Hinata sputtered.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m good to go,” you responded with an awkward thumbs up that you mentally smacked yourself for.

“Don’t go having too much fun now,” Tanaka smirked. “He’s still gotta play tomorrow.”

His raised eyebrows and overall suggestive expression were met with a playful smack on the arm.

“Shut up, you big weirdo,” you scoffed, and before any more comments could be made by your two dorks of friends, you rushed out the gym door after Hinata.

Seeing the boy waiting outside for you, his fiery orange hair illuminated by the glimmering starlight like a cliche movie scene, you nearly tripped on the staircase by the school’s entrance. When he turned to you with an easy smile, your heart practically busted out of your chest. Damn him and his cute face.

You approached him at the gate and readjusted the bag on your shoulders, trying to remain calm at the realization that you were going to be alone with her favorite ray of sunshine. Beginning on the path up the hill, Hinata decides to push his bike alongside him in order to stay closer to you.

“I didn’t realize you lived that close to me until Noya said something tonight,” the middle blocker mentioned.

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? I’m surprised you haven’t been over before.”

“Maybe I should come visit sometime.” Hinata’s eyes widened at the implication and quickly added, “Like, with the rest of the team!”

You laughed softly. “That sounds like fun.”

You both walked in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Hinata spoke up.

“So, does that mean Nishinoya has been over to your place before?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s been over a few times now,” you confirmed.

“Oh, that's cool.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his response, his voice laced with what you could only recognize as disappointment.

“Why do you ask?” you inquired.

“Well, you both just seemed really close is all.” The first year ran a hand through his hair. “Even Tsukishima noticed.”

“Well, Nishi and I are really good friends, and we know a lot about each other, so I guess that’s an accurate description.”

Hinata glanced at you and titled his head a fraction, which you thought made him look like an adorable little puppy.

“Really good...friends?” he murmured.

You nodded affirmatively. “Yeah, he’s like an older brother. Did you think we were dating or something?” you laughed. You meant it as a joke, but when the boy didn’t reply, your eyes widened a fraction and you stopped walking.

“You thought me and Nishi were, like, together together?” you gaped.

At this point Hinata was burning red. He nodded bashfully, and you fell into fits of giggles, placing your hands on your knees for support.

“H-hey! It was a justified question!” Hinata defended himself. “He fell asleep on you in the bus today and it looked like a normal thing for you two, so I just figured!”

You stood straight and composed yourself, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you started walking again.

“As much as I love Nishinoya, we’re definitely not dating,” you explained. “It’s a platonic relationship, nothing more.”

Hinata mentally celebrated at the confirmation that there was nothing going on between you and the libero, although he was embarrassed beyond words at this point in the conversation.

“I’m super sorry!! I just thought- I shouldn’t have assumed,” he apologized, scratching the back of his head.

“Awe, it’s okay, Shoyo. I guess we do act a bit like a couple sometimes, but...I’m not actually seeing anyone at the moment.” You added on without a second thought, “Nishi knows who I really like, though.”

Hinata frowned a bit at the latter sentence, but he remained in a better mood than before.

“So…do I know this person?” he inquired, feeling quite courageous himself.

You hummed, a blush creeping up your neck. “So what if you do?”

“Is it someone on the team?”

“Are we playing twenty questions or something now?” you laughed nervously.

Stupid! Why did I even mention anything in the first place? you mentally cursed yourself.

The ginger felt his heart rate pick up. Out of hope or anxiety, he wasn’t exactly sure.

“What’s he like?” Hinata heard himself asking.

You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the ironic inquiry, and decided to answer his question.

“He’s probably the most energetic person I’ve ever met, but in a good way. He’s really kind to everyone, even though he can get very competitive. While he’s not the most studious, I can tell he tries his hardest to do his best in everything he does. Not to mention he’s incredibly cute.” You chanced a glance at the intently staring first year for a brief moment before focusing your attention back on the sidewalk, thankful for the dim lights of the street. “Sometimes I find it just…so difficult to not mess with his hair, too. It’s so overwhelmingly fluffy.

Hinata let out a small sigh. He didn’t think there was any way he could compete with the special someone that you had described so fondly.

“Well, it sounds like you really like him,” he said simply, a halfhearted smile on his face. “He’s a really lucky guy, whoever he is.”

At his genuine tone, you raised her head to lock eyes with Hinata, who was looking at you with such an honest expression that your breath hitched in your throat. You slowed down in the middle of the empty walkway.

“It’s you, ya big dummy,” you admitted quietly, fiddling nervously with your sweatshirt sleeves.

Hinata heard it. You could tell that much from the way his eyes widened as he stopped dead in his tracks.

“It’s me?” he echoed.

You nodded once, not able to speak as you evaluated his reaction. Hinata clumsily pushed the kickstand of his bike down with wide eyes, maneuvering around it to step closer to you and examine your face, trying to determine if this was real or all in his head.

“I like you too. Like a lot,” he managed to confess, a delighted grin gracing his features.

You felt like you were dreaming and about to wake up at any moment, the urge to pinch yourself just for confirmation that this was all real itching at the back of your mind. But your train of coherent thought quickly dissipated when Hinata gingerly moved a hand up to your flushed cheek, brushing your jaw with his thumb and looking up with warm brown eyes.

“Could I kiss you?” he asked gently, voice barely above a whisper.

“Please do,” you conceded.

Hinata brushed his lips with yours, in a brief but sweet exchange. He did so the second time in the same manner to experiment, and again, just to confirm that this moment was actually happening, before all but backing you into the bike behind them as you tugged at the collar of his shirt. His lips were softer than expected, and you tasted the fruity flavor of what you assumed to be lip balm lingering on them. You could feel the boy grinning into the kiss, this one longer and firmer than their predecessors, and you eagerly tangled your fingers in his fluffy orange hair that was impossibly softer than imagined. His own hands found themselves planted firmly on your waist to secure you from losing balance, drawing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. Your entire body was buzzing with excitement, practically melting when Hinata traced your bottom lip with his tongue.

Hinata pulled away briefly to catch his breath, a fire blazing in his eyes that had you shying away from his gaze. He took a hand off of your waist and tilted your face back towards him with his index finger, a newfound confidence radiating off of the first year in droves that had you flushing darker than you thought possible.

“Shoyo,” you spoke his name softly, pulling a bit at the fiery strands of hair still twirled between your fingers. The little hum elicited from Hinata’s throat was one of your new favorite sounds.

“Please use my first name more often,” the boy breathed out, and you couldn’t help but laugh airily at the request, Hinata unable to suppress the satisfied smile that bloomed across his flushed face at the sound.

“That was… unexpected,” you murmured.

“Good unexpected?” the ginger inquired playfully.

“Very good unexpected,” you joked lightly.

Hinata wrapped you in a warm hug, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. You reciprocated the action, arms encircling around his figure, taking in everything that had happened with an enormous smile.

You might just have to thank Nishinoya later.

#hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu anime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshot #hinata fluff #hinata #hinata imagine #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyuo #hinata shouyo x reader #fluff

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dolphin-bouillabaisse · 4 years

Text

Beards of a feather flock together

(I only wanted to write a short, jokey thing about lockdown beards for the Ineffable Husbands. Why did it turn into an actual fic-long jokey thing?!)

Crowley is using the lockdown efficiently, he thinks, to experiment with facial hair, like all the humans seem to be doing.

He knows he doesn’t technically need the excuse of ‘nobody will see me for a while, so I can let my beard grow out and play around with it’. He knows that he is using miracles for it anyway, and could do it any day and have it disappear and reappear instantaneously.

He knows that. He’s still using the lockdown as an excuse. He’s absolutely not above lying to himself, or making up explanations that sound far more plausible than “I was being extremely bored and had told Aziraphale I was going to sleep so I couldn’t even bother him without exposing that as a blatant lie to avoid being honest about wanting to come over to his place”. There's only so many times you can scream at plants and clean the entire flat top to bottom before you end up at this level of boredom, which was usually interrupted by a particularly wine-laden dinner or a quick run-in at a park, both out of the question now as well.

And so, Crowley is experimenting with facial hair this afternoon. He’s not done it a lot before, to be honest. Oh sure, he’s changed his hairstyle almost as often as his gender, if not even more, and he’s had the rare moustache when human fashion called for it, but he’s never kept any kind of beard for longer than absolutely necessary. He wonders why.

Seeing himself in the mirror, he realises why.

He’s decided to re-visit some old styles at first, but brushing along the small tuft of hair on his chin, all he can think about is the reactions he’d last gotten for it. Some drunkard in a tavern had compared it to a goat, he remembered, and Aziraphale next to him had giggled. Giggled. It had not felt good.

An angry snap of fingers later, and an equally troublesome moustache is staring at him in the mirror. He wonders if it had maybe been the glasses that had put this particular ensemble together decades ago, or the shirt, but he knows neither of it had been able to save him back then, and nothing was able to save him from it right now. At least this time around there is no angel to tell him that it seems less reminiscent of some movie stars and more of a dead member of his beloved rat army.

Snap after snap after snap, the dark red patches across his face change from bad to horrid to absolutely unmentionable, and his patience grows thinner than it has ever been before, and it's been pretty much at the level of a piece of rice paper for several centuries.

One last snap leaves him with just a regular, run-of-the-mill full beard, slightly darker than his normal hair, but styled just as meticulously. He runs his fingers through it, feeling the soft rasp along his hand.

“That's not half bad.” He reasons to his reflection. Not something he's going to go outside with any time soon (he's not going out anyway, but, just as a general point), but not so bad he'd have to fear more unwanted comments or giggles from certain blonde, one-style-fits-all-centuries angel.

The phone rings. He swirls around and almost races towards the throne room office, but remembers quickly enough that he's supposed to be asleep and not ready to answer the phone after the first ring.

He's allowed to pick it up before it goes to the answering machine, though, right?

“What.” He grumbles, hoping it sound sufficiently drowsy and just-woke-up-ish.

“Oh, my dear, I'm terribly sorry. Am I bothering you?”

“Told you I was gonna sleep.”

“Yes, I know. I only wanted to check. I thought I would get that horrid machine, anyway.”

“Why d'you need to check, then?”

“Well.” Quiet rummaging, shuffling. Crowley can see Aziraphale adjusting his waistcoat before his inner eye. “It's recommended.”

“What is?”

“Checking in on-” A soft pause. “Friends and family. Keeping in touch. You know.”

“Ah.” Is all he can manage to answer, which is not exactly anything, so the line stays quiet for a while.

Quite a while.

“Well, I shouldn't be keeping you from your sleep-” is said at the exact same second as his “How's your baking going?”

They pause again after that verbal collision, to gather themselves and their wits back up. Crowley clears his throat, but Aziraphale manages to break through first.

“Oh, my baking is going splendid. I'd say I've mastered the European styles by now. I've been experimenting with some Middle Eastern breads and desserts, and some things I remember from back when we were, um, stationed in the area. But it is awfully hard to find the proper spices and ingredients for it in the shops at the moment. Essentials, you know?”

Crowley doesn't know. Crowley hasn't set foot in a supermarket for years, but the idea of Aziraphale with a shopping trolley and a bag for life and a little list of items on a torn piece of paper makes him want to spend several hours at Waitrose's looking for whatever extinct herb Aziraphale needs.

“Sounds like you need something else to pass the time.” That is not meant to sound as obvious as it does, so a quick addendum is needed. “Reread all your books by now?”

“Well, yes, actually.” Aziraphale sighs. “Ah, I decided to look around on that interweb you set up for me a while back, as well, you remember?” Crowley remembers staring down the ancient desktop pc in the bookshop and telling it to better rear up a good browser and immaculate virus protection or so help it... so a quick hum is the only reply before Aziraphale rattles on.

“And, well, there are quite a lot of people talking about things to do during the lockdown, you know. A lot of people are baking, just like me! And they’re making all kinds of very entertaining videos, and jokes, although I don’t understand all of them. I think they are very popular media related, I’m afraid.”

“You're planning to become a youtube star now? An influencer?”

“Heavens, no!” He can hear the soft smile in that, and it's almost annoying that he can despite not seeing it. He had no idea how badly he wants to see it. Well, maybe he had, but he hadn't admitted it yet. “I'm only saying, humans are coming up with the most random things to entertain themselves during this horrid time. It's quite heartwarming.”

“I suppose.”

“And everyone seems to be using this unwanted time off to try new things! They're being so creative and courageous. The young lady down the street, with the flyers, you remember? I saw her at the grocer's, and she's shaved off half her hair! It does look marvellous, I have to say.”

Well, it's not exactly surprising for Crowley to hear, he thinks, because if he'd had to peg anyone on Aziraphale's street to go straight for some queer quarantine hairstyling, it would've been her. But he doesn't get much time to think about that before Aziraphale's voice pulls him back into the very one-sided conversation.

“It's all very inspiring. And I figured, well, why not? Nobody is going to come into the shop for a while, and I'm not going out, and I've always wondered-”

“Angel.” Crowley cuts through the babbling with almost a bit of dread in his voice. “Did you shave your head? Is that what you're trying to say?”

“Oh gosh, no, nothing that extreme! Really, would you actually believe me to do that? I know you like your hair changed every few years or so, but I-”

“What did you do, then? What did Holly and her shaved head inspire you to do?”

Another round of silence on both ends of the line. Crowley prepares himself for the worst, though he has no idea what that would be.

“I've grown a beard.” Aziraphale almost whispers.

“You what?”

“I've grown a beard!” He repeats, a tad louder. “I've always wondered – there's barely any angels with facial hair, and you used to have those- I just had no idea what I might look like with one, and I thought, if not now-”

“And?”

“And what?” Aziraphale huffs.

“What do you look like?” Crowley's grin is mischievous, and his voice really shouldn't sound like this, but he can't help the teasing as he rubs across his own beard, still not vanished away by miracle. He hears a soft scratching on the other end of the line.

“It's not- it's not bad, if that's what you're expecting to hear. Although it seems a bit patchy, the colour, at least.”

“Patchy.”

“Yes, there's this bit – in the front – my chin, you see. It seems an awful lot lighter than the rest.”

“Angel, you have to expect some white hairs after six thousand years.”

“You are mocking me.” Aziraphale tuts down the line.

“I swear I'm not. It's just hard to imagine you with a beard. Never seen anything on your face, even when it was the style for humans.”

“Well you certainly won't be seeing it anyway. I'll make sure to be presentable once the lockdown is lifted.”

“What?!” Crowley interjects a bit too shocked, maybe. “You can't do that to me, angel! You can't dangle this little morsel of information in front of my face and then never let me have it!”

“I'm not going to go outside or greet customers like this only so you can have a quick laugh, old serpent.”

“You leave me no choice, then.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to see this beard of yours, angel. Even if it means coming over before regulations are changed.”

“Well.” Aziraphale says, and Crowley is sure he can hear a smile again, but definitely not a soft one. That bastard. “I simply can't keep you from breaking the rules, can I? You are a demon, after all. Not all your wiles can be thwarted, I guess.”

Probably not, Crowley thinks as he realises he's been had, but you're definitely an A-class tempter.

(the story actually goes further here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402841

because nobody seems to reblog the second, longer version :( )

#Crowley #Aziraphale #Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #my writing

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the19thduckpotato · 4 years

Text

((reposted with permission from @my-favorite-aesthetics, a little active storytelling going on in which Toshi takes Izuku to some of his favorite waterfront shops)) Izuku looked around as they entered the door of the popcorn shop, distracted by all the new sights and sounds and SMELLS, OH WOW, THE SMELLS— It made him a tiny bit dizzy with the sudden intensity of it. Toshinori waved cheerfully at the greeting calls of "oh hello, Mr. Yagi!" A plump lady with her hair wrapped up beamed and bobbed welcome. "Just in time for the fresh batch--and who is this?" Toshi grinned. "This is Izuku, my student. Izuku, this is Madame Popol. I've been talking up your skills all afternoon so you might want to break out your best flavors." Madame Popol looked delighted at that and bustled off to do just so. Toshi took a seat at the nearby bench and breathed deep. How he missed the scents that mingled here! After flashing a grin and small wave at Madame Popol, Izuku took a seat beside his dad, smiling up at him fondly. He looks so happy...♡ Madame Popol soon returned with a circular wooden tray carved with multiple notches. In each notch sat a handful of popcorn, each a different shade of color. The plump lady began to describe the flavors and Toshi made his mind wander. remember when you used to get bags full of popcorn all the time? And Torino would bark disappoint at your snacking habits while Master would just roar laughter and steal a few kernels? "...now this one is strawberry, over here is smokey chipotle, and this one is classic white cheddar." Toshi's mouth watered a bit and he glanced about at the brightly colored bags, tied with equally bright ribbons. Then, unbidden, a sudden urge to rise up and plunge his hands into the barrels and bags of popcorn. Sink in, elbow deep, and start wildly stuffing his face. that would be incredibly stupid. I know You'd land yourself in the hospital with a stunt like that. I know. And so Toshi busied himself with watching Izuku's reactions to the many flavors presented him. Izuku’s eyes were wide as he listened, not remembering all of the flavors in the list but making a beeline for the strawberry, picking up a kernel and popping it in his mouth. “Mm!” His eyes somehow got wider. “That’s really good!” Madame Popol winked. "Excellent! Sweet taste for an equally sweet boy. Don't you worry now, Mr. Yagi, I got some of yours all prepped and ready to go." Toshi began to pull his wallet out and Madame Popol cheerfully swatted his hand. "Poppi!" "You just let me borrow this one's tastebuds for a few more flavors and we'll call it even. ...how about cookies and cream, Izuku? Or pickle? Bet you never heard of that before!" Half Izuku’s face scrunched, though he kept smiling amusedly. “Bet I have!” "But have you actually tried it?" “Wwwwwwell....” Madam Popol held out the tray. Toshi leaned back on the bench and smiled, closing his eyes and breathing deep again. just one handful surely it wouldn't be that bad A really small handful, even Izuku took a piece.... His whole face scrunched up. Toshi was finding the temptation getting a bit too strong and turned to Izuku to stammer out some sort of excuse-- --saw the kid's face-- "What on earth?!" --and gave in to a helpless bout of laughter. Madame Popol beamed at both of their reactions, still keeping a knowing eye on her lanky regular. "Isn't that marvelous?" she chirped. "I'm... not sure it's... my cup of tea." Izuku shook his head, a tiny bit of blush on his cheeks, but being honest. Really don't like pickles.... "It isn't for everyone," Madane Popol agreed, not even slightly put out. "Now then. As you can see, we're pretty talented here. So I need to ask--what is one flavor you'd never expect to taste on popcorn? And not anything too weird or wild. I'm asking from a curious business owner standpoint." Izuku thought for a bit. "....Well I wouldn't want to eat it, but... horseradish?" Madame Popol nodded thoughtfully. "And what about something you would eat? Something like--" With a sudden expert motion that surprised even Toshi, she snatched a small bag from behind the counter and tossed it to the tall blond. "Mr. Yagi," she scolded fondly but firmly, "My dear, have a munch on that and please cheer up. And you--" she said, pointing at Izuku. "--flavor?" Toshi looked sheepish as Madame Popol dropped a large cloth bag in his lap and began filling it with assorted flavors of popcorn. "How many kids in your class again, hun? I'm sure our lovely Mr. Yagi will make sure these all get to them, won't he?" "Uuuuhhh...." Izuku thought more. "Really, I just like the cheddar stuff, mostly." He popped one in his mouth, smiling at the flavor. "Strawberry is good, but I could eat these about forever." Am I being too familiar? This is oddly easy. If the words are coming this easy, are they really good? Or am I just not paying enough attention.... He looked around at Toshi and Madame Popol. They do seem unoffended though... maybe it's good, maybe I'm just being funny... yes, play the clown, I can do that... be sure not to try too hard, though, no one likes that-- stOP OVER TH I NK I N G Toshi froze as the cloth bag filled up. Was I that easy to read? Crap. I need to get better about that. To stop making it so visible. He glanced at Izuku--my anchor--and grinned. "You heard him, Madame Popol, biggest bag of cheddar you got." She pretended to look offended. "I dont think you realize just how big the biggest bag I have is. I daresay you'd need to bring your big self out to haul it away." She flexed one arm and giggled. Toshi gave a gentle smile at that. "Sounds like a challenge," he returned, a little less enthusiastic than he had meant to sound. Izuku covered his face and squeaked happily at that. "I didn't mean FOREVER forever!" Oh noooooo, that's too much! I can't let him buy that for me... but I can't STOP him! He grinned widely, though not missing Toshi's tone of voice. He didn't quite know what to make of it, though, so he filed the fact away while keeping it in reach. Madame Popol wedged one last portion of popcorn (bacon jalapeno) into the cloth bag and tutted at Toshi's protests. "Now now, I dont expect you boys to carry any of these around all day. You look like you have other places you want to visit. I'll just have these sent to your office, Mr. Yagi, darlin." Toshi shifted for his wallet again and she cheerfully hmphed. "This man," she sighed in frustrated adoration, "he doesn't even eat yet like I ask and yet still tries to pay before services rendered." "Poppi--" "Shoo with you now! Out of my shop, no, out, I'll send you the bill later. Izuku please, one moment." She beckoned to the boy while still shooing Toshi out. "--?" Izuku looked between Madame Popol and the currently-leaving Toshi nervously. He could feel his muscles tensing at the idea of staying behind alone, but... his gaze settled on her. She produced a pocket sized bag of strawberry popcorn and pressed it into his hands. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up. This may sound odd but...you're very good for him." She sighed softly and gazed about her shop. "Would that I could show him my appreciation for all that he's done with more than just popcorn but that's what the heavens saw fit. So that will be as I keep doing. But you--" Her eyes twinkled knowingly. "--you've been blessed with the ability to bring his smile out." She looked like she wanted to say more, then shook her head and waddled back to the counter. "Come back anytime, lovey. There will always be a bag of your favorite waiting here for you." Izuku gazed up at her as she spoke, completely understanding what it feels like to want to support someone you're grateful to but... not being able to. He smiled down at the bag of strawberry popcorn in his hands, glad he had met this Very Warm Person. "Thank you," he said softly. She gently tweaked one of his freckled cheeks. "No no," she replied. "thank you." Then, returning to form, she cheerfully flapped her apron at him. "Get on, now! That man has long legs and could be halfway to Kyoto by now. Go catch up!" He squeaked and ducked at the tweak, and hurried obediently after Toshi out the door......... ---------- yknow, for a one off character, I adore Madame Popol --pretty sure she was half inspired by Madame Pomphrey by name and half by Professor Sprout. gonna see if I can doodle her up later.

#mha #bnha #fan writes #mander!#ducky's #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #izuku #midoriya #deku #toshinori #dadmight #all might #sunflower dad #fluffy #fluff

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katehuntington · 5 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part five) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±4500 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part five: Y/N successfully completes her first day as a ranch hand and it’s enough reason for bunkhouse celebration. But the evening, filled with drinks and music, sparks more than Y/N bargained for. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Stairway To Heaven (acoustic guitar solo) - Daisuke Minamizawa, ‘Simple Man’ - Jensen Ackles, Jason Manns. Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me Playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @coffee-obsessed-writer and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish for helping me. You girls are awesome betas.

Ride With Me Masterlist

6.40 PM: Y/N’s exhausting first day at Gold Canyon Ranch is over. She didn't expect the time to fly by as it did. But turning out the horses, sweeping the floors, and cleaning the tack actually offered a soothing satisfaction. It was a nice variation to pitching business plans and writing a thesis, which basically has been the only thing she worked on for the past eight months. The tasks here were simple, therapeutic almost. That she didn't get to ride a single horse yet doesn't even bother her. What does, is the fact that she is drenched in sweat and covered in dust and horsehair. She can feel dirt tickle in her cleavage and under her bra, in her socks, and beneath the denim of her jeans. Somehow the particles got absolutely everywhere, mixing with the layer of moisture that covers her entire body.

Dean locks up the tack room, which Y/N sorted out, while Jo took a group of twelve guests on a mountain hack. Impressed, he glances through the glass four-squared window, before he turns to her. The intern asked to organize the tack herself, after noticing the messy storage place. To Garth’s delight, he didn't even have to assign her that job. “Good work. I don't think it has ever been this neat,” the head wrangler compliments. Y/N smiles at that, raking her fingers through her dirty hair; it feels like she hasn't washed it in a week. “Thanks,” she replies, happy that her work is being appreciated.

The two of them stroll outside to the square behind the stables, where Benny and Ash are already waiting after they secured all the gaits. Jo joins too and sits down on the edge of a trough that holds fresh water for the thirsty four-legged workers when they come back from rides. While the five wait for Garth to finish up refilling the feed cart, Benny and Ash have a smoke. Y/N joins the ranch owner’s daughter and settles down in the spot she saved. Tired, she sighs louder than she wanted to be audible. Jo sniggers. “A little different from the desk job you studied for, huh?” Y/N takes off her hat and rubs away the beads of sweat that have gathered on her forehead with the back of her hand. Jo knows what she received her master’s in, because after the young blonde escorted her to the bunkhouse and helped bring in her luggage, they continued the conversation that started in the car on their way from the airport. Besides turning down the head wrangler, her study also came up. “It's a nice change of pace,” she admits, smiling content. “So, you like it here? Not gonna go runnin’ back to Maine?” Jo double-checks. “Not anytime soon,” Y/N assures. “Good!”

Garth, who snuck up from behind, grips her shoulders and drags her back with more force than you would expect from the slender stable boy. Without mercy, he pulls the rookie from the edge, backed up by Jo who gives her an extra push, causing Y/N to lose balance and fall into the water trough. With a loud yelp, she lands in the cold water and almost goes under entirely, legs still dangling over the edge. Like a cat that has slipped into a bathtub, she desperately claws at anything in order to get a grip and pull herself up again, eyes wide in shock. “Jesus Christ! C-cold!” she stammers, throwing Jo and Garth a startled look. “What did you do that for?!” None of the workers can answer immediately. Benny has buckled over from laughter as Ash claps his hands, entertained. Both Garth and the girl who Y/N thought was her friend have trouble breathing. Dean watches from a little distance, arms crossed and an amused grin on his face. “You are now officially a part of the team, Yankee.” The cowboy grins, victoriously. “Consider this your initiation.”

Y/N stops struggling to get out, a huff escaping her lips. Of course, she should have known that the newbie gets pranked at some point. Feeling fooled and embarrassed, the intern shakes her head. Although their actions have her feeling insecure, she’s also aware that this gag might be a token of their acceptance. She sighs, extending her hand and asking for a little help. “Alright, you guys got me.” Jo steps forward, trying to hide the smirk still plastered on her face. Not for long, though, because Y/N braces herself with one boot on the edge of the trough and quickly locks her fingers around Jo’s wrist. Unable to escape the intern’s grip and not nearly quick enough to prevent an involuntary dive, Jo is pulled into the water as well, exclaiming a loud squeal that sounds more like a pig than a human being. Now the guy's bellow over in laughter; Dean especially, seems to die in a fit after witnessing his little cousin get her well-deserved payback. The look on Jo’s face causes Y/N to giggle loudly as well; seems like years of wrestling her three brothers pay off once again. “You ungrateful lil’ skank!” Jo exclaims, propping herself up on her hands to keep herself above the water surface. “You're calling me out? Really?” Y/N replies as she gets up. Turning towards the blonde wrangler after stumbling out of the trough, she places her hands on her waist as Garth helps Jo to her feet. Disgusted, she just stands there, holding out her arms while the water drips down, leaving puddles in the dry sand. “Great.” She scoffs, stepping out as her cowboy boots squish. “Now I really really need a shower.” “And a dry shirt, or your dad will rip you a new one at dinner,” Dean smirks. “Nice bra, by the way,” Y/N whispers, leaning in a little closer before she speaks.

Jo’s jaw drops in shock as she glances down at her light blue chequered blouse, which transformed into a see-through hooker top now that it’s drenched. Her red lace bra is visible, catching the attention of the men. All but one, because Jo’s relative obviously isn't captivated by his little cousin, but rather by the other cowgirl. The denim blouse Y/N is wearing doesn't actually reveal more now that it's wet, but the fabric does stick to her skin as if it's an airtight fit, outlining every beautiful curve she has. Water droplets sneak from her neck down her chest and into her shirt, shimmering on her smooth skin. Dean swallows hard. Hot damn, she’s a sight for sore eyes.

Still smiling widely at Jo - who started a rant about how a bra isn't any different from a bikini - Y/N lets her gaze wander over to him. Dean instantly looks down, feeling busted, as red flushes his cheeks. The smirk on her lips dies down into a subtle smile, reading him until he dares to meet her eyes again. Did he just...? Was he…? Had she just caught him staring at her in awe? That short moment in which she found him looking, he seemed mesmerized. Him being the one to break eye contact, immediately followed by the blush that even his dipped down cowboy hat can't hide, only proves that. Dean feels exposed, and he decides to direct the attention to one of the workers before anyone else notices the moment between them. He glances at Garth, who seems to be under a spell as well, a spell unintentionally cast on him by the other girl. The head wrangler’s death stare doesn't even snap him out of his trance. “Like what you see, Garth?” Dean clears his throat, protective of his cousin. Turning red, the timid young guy drops his gaze, stammering something incomprehensible. Meanwhile, Jo eyes Garth with a perplexed look on her face, but then focuses on Y/N. It awakens her from her thoughts and with good reason. Right about now would be a good time to start running. “You are so dead,” Jo scoffs, trying to come off as serious.

It's the intern’s cue to head for the hills, letting out a laugh as Jo chases after her towards the bunkhouse. The men watch them run away and Benny can't help but chuckle. “Hell, I would pay to see a wrestling match in the mud between those two gals.” “That’s my cousin you’re talking about,” Dean warns. Benny smirks. “So? She ain't my cousin.” The comment is countered by a smack in the head, so fast that the broad farrier is unable to dodge the swing. He laughs at his friend's response, though. Bantering and frolicking is common between the two. After all, they have been like brothers for the past fifteen years. “You leave me no choice then, I’ll settle for the other Belle,” Benny jokes.

Dean responds with a forced chuckle, but the comment has his stomach in knots. No way Benny is going to run off with the girl he has set his mind on. He must do something, come up with an excuse to prevent the guy from going all Southern charm on her. He has to keep his cool, though. “Sorry buddy, but I’m calling dibs on the intern,” he decides, patting his friend on the shoulder as he passes him. Stunned by the bold announcement, Benny stops in his tracks, then he snorts in laughter. He cannot be serious. He’s calling dibs? “Oh, no no no,” he counters, catching up with the head wrangler again. “You don't get to call dibs on her. I know you put your money on that horse, but if I remember correctly, she declined.” “Don't care. I saw her first,” Dean simply replies, not impressed with his best friend’s contradictions.

Benny shoots him a glare, but the brightness of his clear blue eyes shows that he thinks of it as nothing more than a harmless disagreement. Besides jokingly keeping a score every now and then, there is no competition between the two of them whatsoever. Usually, they don't even fuss about who takes who to their rooms at the end of the night. The women they shared their beds with were at the ranch for a couple of weeks at most, an intern would stay a little longer if they lasted that long. There was never any seriousness to the flings, they were just that: short term and without attachments. One night Benny got lucky, another night Dean, some nights both men had a woman in their beds. Heck, there have even been a handful of girls they both had sex with. Although Benny doesn't sense it yet, this is different. Dean can't really put his finger on it and he plans not to look into it too much, but he wants Y/N for himself. “Oh, c’mon now. Women who come through those saloon doors are rarely that easy on the eyes,” Benny whines. “Well, there's Casey.” Dean waits for his companion to pick up on the hint, which he does soon enough. The Southerner narrows his eyes, making sure that his pal is implying what he thinks he's implying. “What would be your proposition, my friend?” Dean hooks his thumb behind his belt buckle as he kicks his boots through the dirt, a sparkling triumph in his eyes. This offer is going to be too good to turn down. “Casey - who by the way is as thrilling to take for a private ride as you've been imagining - is all yours. You can have her to yourself if you leave Y/N for me.” The men reach the porch of the bunkhouse, where they halt at the bottom of the steps. Benny turns to face his friend, who has extended his hand and is waiting for the guy opposite of him to shake it. He reads the head wrangler while rubbing his beard, piercing eyes trying to sweeten the pot. “I dunno, brother. That intern is somethin’ else,” he contemplates, challenging. “And what if she turns your sorry hind down again, huh? Sure I can give it a go then?” But the head wrangler shakes his head and keeps his foot down. “Either you're in or you're out.”

Benny keeps a straight face as he considers his options, but then the line that parts his lips starts to grow into a devilish grin. He shakes the cowboy’s hand in agreement. “Great doing business with ya, Chief,” he says, content. The firm handshake lasts just long enough for Jo to see when she peeks through the beaded fly curtain. She changed her clothes and freshened up. As she throws the boys a penetrating glare, she continues braiding her long hair. “What are you asshats up to?” she questions, picking up on their suspicious behavior. The partners in crime look at each other and shrug innocently. “Nothin’,” they respond in unison. The ranch owner's daughter takes a second or two to read them, furrowing her brow as her penetrating stare pauses on Dean, then on her colleague. Despite not trusting their shady whispers for one bit, she rolls her eyes and goes back to the bathroom to call Y/N for dinner. Sometimes she wonders how it is possible that those two idjits aren't related.

How the employees of the Singer family are not so fat that before getting in the saddle, their horses would flip them off, amazes Y/N. Ellen’s crispy fried chicken topped generously with homemade gravy, served with potato slices baked in rosemary, together with buttered corn on the cob, tastes absolutely delicious. Jo’s mother cooked enough for an orphanage, or for eight hungry men and women as it turns out. Despite that it seemed impossible to eat half of the meal that was served up, the pots and pans are scraped clean by the end of dinner. Seems like everyone worked up quite an appetite. Full and satisfied, Y/N heads back to the bunkhouse together with the other residents, expecting to retreat to her room, crash on her bed feeling delightfully bloated for about fifteen minutes before falling asleep. But when Benny and Garth drag some chairs outside on the porch as Jo flicks a switch that turns on fairy lights that hang from the ceiling of the roof edge, she starts to get that the evening has only just begun. Country starts to alternate with rock on a playlist called Bunkhouse Booze-nights on Ash’s computer and she can’t help but grin when the familiar intro of Led Zep’s ‘Ramble On’ comes from the speakers. When she looks over, she catches Dean behind the laptop, a boyish smirk on his face and a wink coming her way. Y/N feels the blood rush to her cheeks, unable to stop the corners of her mouth from shifting into a smile.

“What are you havin’?” he asks, making his way over to the doorway to grab drinks. The intern isn’t sure if consuming alcohol is smart, knowing that her alarm will start buzzing again at 5.30 in the morning. She doesn’t want to give the wrong impression, plus she’s fully aware that she’s an absolute lightweight. The last time she had a couple of drinks was at her graduation party, if she remembers correctly since the memory is a bit vague. What she does remember is that she wasn’t worth a dime by the end of the night, let alone the next morning. “A soda is fine,” she replies shyly. Her peculiar answer draws some attention. “I'm afraid we don't serve that here, sugar,” Benny chuckles, leaning against the back of the bench, boots propped on a wooden box that serves as a table. “C’mon, Yankee. Live a little!” Jo encourages. She emerges from behind the fly curtain, her arms around two large cozy cushions that decorated the couches inside. She throws one, which Y/N is able to catch before it hits her in the face, as she herself sits down on the other one. She yields. “A beer then. Just one.” “Let me tell you somethin’,” Dean says when he gets back from the kitchen with a crate of heavenly golden brew. “Firstly: we don’t drink beer here. You’re in Arizona now, we drink Corona, and secondly-” He sits down on a chair opposite of the intern, setting the twenty-four bottles down on the ground, “- you can never have just one beer.”

He takes out a Corona, hooks the cap behind the edge of the crate, and jams the bottle down with the palm of his free hand, sending the cap in the air. When he hands Y/N the drink, she shakes her head, chuckling. Apparently her new colleagues are going to make sure she will have fun tonight, whether she likes it or not. The head wrangler continues to open the Mexican ‘Cervezas’ until everyone has a drink in their hand. “Fellas,” Benny calls for attention as he heaves his drink. “May the wranglers ride horses and the cowgirls ride wranglers.” The men cheer and toast to that. Jo, however, raises her eyebrow at Benny and then disapprovingly scoffs. Challenging, her gaze glides past the men in the circle, Y/N can tell she has a comeback ready. “Here’s to our horses. May their obedience and inability to talk bullshit inspire men one day.” Y/N snorts and even Garth appreciates the smart reply, hiding his amused grin when Benny looks over at him, muttering ‘What? It was funny’ while the women in their company toast their bottles and take a sip. “Alright, all jokes aside,” Dean now raising his glass to the newest member of the crew. “To our new intern. May you have the time of your life here at the ranch, gain a new family, and find what you are looking for.” His words warm Y/N; that was such a sweet thing of him to say. She knows Jo thinks it’s a public flirt, but again she reads so much truth in his words. Appreciatively the cowgirl smiles, her Corona meeting his in the air, after which the others join in on the toast. “Hear, hear!” Garth chants, backed up by the others.

It will turn out to be the beginning of a great night. Y/N gets to know the other workers a little better and is all ears when Ash starts to tell tall tales about his bull riding career. The first crate of Corona is emptied in record time and the crew starts on a second. After three beers she can feel the alcohol taking an effect and Y/N’s conscience begins to sound the alarm. She’s not sure if a crisis in the morning is avoidable at this point, but if she still wants a chance at a good start of tomorrow, now would be the time to head to bed. It’s ten to midnight when she decides to call it, to the disappointment of the others. “Ah, please. Don’t leave me with these morons,” Jo begs when her new friend gets up. “I'm gonna be a tired mess if I don't,” Y/N responds, feeling a little sorry for her. “We’ll forgive you if you're a little sleepy and hungover tomorrow, Y/N,” Garth promises. “I'm not sure if Mr. Singer will see it that way,” she brings to mind. “You'll be fine and if not, you can blame it on us,” Benny adds. “C'mon… Stay?” It's Dean who asks, his soft green eyes on the cowgirl as he waits for her to cave. With a deep sigh, she glances at her watch, knowing that she really shouldn't. Y/N is about to tell him ‘no’ for the second night in a row, when his best friend saves him. “You'll miss the best part of the night. Dean was just about to fetch his guitar,” Benny mentions. His remark triggers Y/N to curiously raises her brow at the head wrangler, who in turn eyes the Southern farrier. “I was?” he counters. Benny chuckles. “If you want her to stick around, you better.” Dean now glances over at the intern carefully, then gets up. “Alright alright…” he mumbles, pushing the fly curtain aside when he heads to his room.

Y/N sits down again, waiting for him to return in anticipation; this she would like to see. Seconds later, the handsome cowboy returns with a Gibson six string. He settles on his chair again and rests the body of the acoustic guitar on his right thigh. The way the curved lines of the instrument form around his leg as he gently holds it by the neck that fits his hand perfectly, one would think that the guitar was made especially for him. He positions his fingers on the strings between the frets and strums them with his other hand above the soundhole while listening carefully, then twists one of the tuners on the head of the guitar slightly as he keeps testing the string until it's on key. The process continues until the Gibson sounds like harmony, then Dean shifts his focus to his audience. “Requests?” he asks the group, although he is looking at the only woman he has eyes for. “Anything good and old,” she replies, folding her legs in pretzel position while leaning forward, elbows on her knees, and the fourth bottle between her hands.

He thinks about if for a short moment, then starts playing the intro of Led Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’. The delighted expression when she recognizes the song after two notes triggers Dean to smile, and he continues to play. His fingers move swiftly over the fretboard as the wrangler hits the chords while swaying slowly to the rhythm, closing his eyes every so often. He makes a face when he messes up a note, but recovers and picks it back up. Completely astounded by his talent, Y/N doesn’t even notice that her jaw drops slightly when he sets in on the first verse and nails the melody. There is no doubt about it; he is absolutely amazing. When the song is over he receives a four-man applause and a shout out from Ash, who appreciates a little classic rock as well. “If you think that's all that pretty face can do, you're wrong,” Benny tells her. “He's just warmin’ up.” “How about some Southern comfort then, ey Benny? A little Lynyrd Skynyrd?” the head wrangler suggests. His fingers caress the strings again, light and soft as if he's starting on a lullaby. Although the original is a true rock n’ roll anthem, Y/N recognizes the song that he’s about to cover acoustically. When Dean opens his mouth and lets his voice be heard, her eyes grow larger and she cannot believe her ears. "Mama told me, when I was young. Said ‘sit beside me, my only son. Listen closely, to what I say. If you do this, it will help you some sunny day."

Y/N isn’t sure if it's the serenade he performs for her that does the trick, or the sight of the good looking cowboy playing his guitar as he brings the lyrics so passionately, but now she’s the one who’s mesmerized. His voice sounds like a combination of honey and whiskey, a rough edge adding to the beautiful depth. Completely blown away, she listens to the gift that was given him, taking in the musical mix of guitar and vocals. “Oh, take your time. Don't live too fast. Troubles will come, and they will pass.” As he continues, Dean looks up, meeting Y/N’s astonished gaze, which he keeps a hold of like he did on the night they met.

“You'll find a woman, and you'll find love…” While singing the line, his eyes are fixed on her. Maybe or maybe not intentional, but that question does not influence the consequences. She feels her heart rate pick up, beating evidently in her chest. A warm, tingly sensation starts to evolve in the pit of her stomach, enabling her to move. If she would have wanted to break eye contact, good luck, because turning her gaze away is simply impossible. “Forget your lust from the rich man's gold. All that you need, is in your soul. You can do this, oh baby, if you try. All that I want for you is to be satisfied.” The fight against the effect that cowboy has on her, lasted a good twenty-four hours. Stubbornly she battled what surfaced the very first moment he so much as glanced at her over his poker cards yesterday evening, when she first saw the handsome wrangler. There are plenty of reasons why letting these feelings roam free is a bad idea. For one, work doesn't mix well with personal life. Secondly, she’s only staying for six months and was unable to keep a relationship going with someone who lives in the same town, let alone halfway across the country. Y/N could go on bullet-pointing why she should resist the hypnosis he has her under. This is a bad, bad idea, Y/N! He’s a playboy! He doesn’t like you, he likes girls in general! He couldn’t possibly be attracted to you! But telling herself doesn't help anymore, there's no reasoning with her heart. “And be a simple kind of man. Be something you'll love and understand. Baby, be a simple, kind of man. Oh, won't you do this for me son, if you can.” The excitement she felt when she got on a pony at the age of four. The true fear she experienced when she fell off a horse, that moment right before she hit the ground. The thrill when she performed a sliding stop for the first time. That profound admiration that warmed her soul when she got Meadow from her granddad. The ecstasy that raised her up when she became State Champion with a perfect ride. Throw all those emotions into a blender and that would describe how Y/N feels right now. Vividly experiencing the chemical reaction in her brain, she continues to watch the man strumming his guitar, who has absolutely no idea what he’s doing to the young woman opposite of him. The small light bulbs above him shimmer an angelic light on his golden hair, highlighting his strong features. She is so captivated by the moment, that she can barely make out the words he's singing, but she does hear the soul in his voice. And as she realizes what is happening to her, something snaps inside, like a rubber band. Then she knows. Then she knows that there is in fact a way to describe this rollercoaster ride she’s on right now.

She’s falling. She’s falling in love. "Don't you worry, you'll find yourself. Follow your heart, and nothing else. You can do this, oh baby, if you try. All that I want from you, is to be satisfied.”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part six here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #Cowboy!Dean #Dean Winchester AU #Dean Winchester #Dean x Y/N #Dean Winchester x Y/N #Supernatural #SPN #Dean reader insert #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean fanfic #Dean Winchester fanfic #Supernatural AU #Kate Huntington

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

thanks for being his romantic lead

not sure what this is. i started out with a plan and then it became crack and now here we are. you asked for it. kinda. HAPPY THANKSGIVING

ao3

"Don't be mad."

Michael eyed Liz as she blocked the entrance to Isobel's house. They were getting together for Thanksgiving and he had two grocery bags full of last-minute items that Isobel had frantically called him to pick up on the way. And yet Liz was blocking the way.

"I'm already mad," he said, though the suspicion never left his face. Her shoulders dropped.

"What, why? I didn't even tell you yet!"

"Because you didn't even tell me not to be mad whenever you ran your car into my truck, so whatever you did this time must be horrible," he pointed out. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Okay, but that was an accident."

"So whatever you did this time wasn't–hence the pre-requisite of anger."

Liz rolled her eyes but sighed. She dropped her arms. "Jayden is here."

Michael’s mood immediately soured at the name of the kid he hated. Or, tried to hate. The guy followed Michael like a puppy and did way too much to try to hang out with him so they could be friends. While that wouldn’t inherently be the worst thing ever if that’s all he was, it was still annoying. The icing on the cake, however, was that Jayden was Alex’s boyfriend. Emphasis on boy. The kid was barely 23 and acted like he was even younger. Isobel’s theory was it made Alex feel like he was young again. Michael just hated seeing Alex with anyone else.

“Why did you invite him?”

“I didn’t!” Liz exclaimed, “Alex asked if Jayden could come because, you know, his dad moved away and his mom is in jail and his grandparents are dead. None of us could say no.”

Michael frowned because of course the human golden retriever had a shitty family situation. Hell, that’s basically how they even met him. They’d found some guy on Reddit who knew too much about aliens, so they tracked him down. They were expecting someone ex-military and went prepared for that, not some kid who lived in a slightly sketchy one-bedroom apartment on the edge of Roswell. He had apparently made all of it up when he was bored and was super stoked to find out he was right, immediately asking Michael how his telekinesis worked despite the fact Alex and Max literally had guns on him. Michael remembered Alex had softened to his childlike wonder almost immediately.

“Fine,” Michael grumbled, pushing inside and trying to evade making eye contact with Jayden as he made his way to the kitchen. It didn’t really help seeing as Jayden all but jumped over the couch to get to him.

“Michael, hey! Look, I brought my Switch, we can play Mario Kart!” Jayden suggested, eyes wide and hopeful as he smiled at him. Michael just sighed.

Then issue with Jayden, aside from literally everything, was that Michael couldn’t figure out what Alex saw in him. The guy was as tall as Max, but was all bones and body hair. He had a scruffy blond beard and long, wavy blond hair to match. It was usually hidden beneath a beanie of some sort that was always pulled low, forcing you to look at his creepy crystal blue eyes. He was pale and wore baggy clothes that did nothing for him, always wearing one too many layers even when it was hot. He and Alex didn’t look like they fit and that was a fact that had nothing to do with Michael’s feelings. They were just opposites in the worst way.

“Yeah, maybe,” Michael said and Jayden just nodded excitedly. He stood in Michael’s way for a moment and it became clear he had no intention to actually leave his side.

“Jay, c’mere for a second,” Alex called which Michael both hated and was thankful for at the same time. Jayden, always the puppy, went to his master with ease.

Michael didn’t look their way as he beelined to the kitchen. Isobel was by the stove and gave him a grateful look when he dumped the bags onto the counter. Her grateful look pretty quickly switched to the irritating sister look when she caught his irritation.

“Oh, come on, you had to know he was coming,” she said, digging through the bags, “I really don’t get how you manage to dislike him. He’s cute and he adores you.”

“Yeah, he does, it’s really fucking annoying,” Michael grumbled. She snorted before her eyes went wide and she jutted out her bottom lip.

“But you’re, like, cooler than Minecraft,” she teased and Michael physically cringed.

“Pokémon,” Max corrected as he appeared from basically nowhere, “He said Michael was cooler than Pokémon.”

“Even better,” Isobel giggled. Michael just dropped his head in his hands.

“I don’t understand why he even likes me, I’m constantly a dick to him.”

“We like you and you’re dicks to us,” Max pointed out. Michael rolled his eyes so dramatically it almost hurt. It was worth it.

“He knows Alex and I have history, yet it doesn’t seem to bother him. Aren’t most people supposed to hate their significant other’s ex? Max, don’t you hate Kyle?” Michael pointed out. Max shrugged.

“I mean, yeah, but I hate him a lot less than I did before he played a massive part in, you know, reviving me,” Max said. Michael groaned.

“Fine, Valenti doesn’t count.”

“Look, Michael, he’s gonna be around, just try to not ruin my entire dinner,” Isobel scolded. Michael sighed and then nodded.

He could at least try.

Jayden did this thing that only Alex seemed to find charming. He would sit and ask about aliens until they were blue in the face. He was so curious and he would ask the same questions and he would bring up shit they hadn’t even thought about, much less had an answer for. He seemed more interested in aliens than the actual aliens did.

But, today, Michael was entertaining him because he wanted to support Alex. Even if it killed him. Which it just fucking might.

“I was thinking about that, actually, and your TK can lift more than you can physically, so what are your boundaries? My working theory is that if you can completely visualize the weight of something, you can move it, is that how it works?” Jayden asked, leaning into the dining table. It was the eighth question that night about Michael’s limitations. He took a slow breath.

“I don’t actually know. I just sort of what to move something and I do it, I’ve never really gone that far into the logistics,” Michael explained. Jayden nodded, taking a bite of the ham Isobel had spent like a whole two days preparing.

“Wow, this is really good, Isobel, thank you so much,” he said. She smiled. Alex looked at him with the world’s softest eyes, casually untucking his hair from the collar of his shirt. Michael was really pissed. “Ooh, Michael, there was this episode of Star Trek that I gotta show you, it was abo-”

“I don’t like Star Trek,” Michael cut him off, but forced a smile so he didn’t seem rude. He was working at it. Jayden’s face fell for a moment but quickly went back to the smile. However, it was hard not to notice how he leaned back in his chair and towards Alex.

“Oh, that’s fine,” Jayden said, “Hey, so, have you thought about how you can breathe oxygen? Do you think there’s something different on your planet’s atmosphere and the pod you were in just adapted you to be able to breathe oxygen, or do you think there’s another oxygen-filled planet out there?”

“Dude, I don’t fucking know,” Michael said, slightly exasperated. Jayden leaned into Alex and looked slightly wounded which only provoked Michael more. And he’d already started, so might as well. “You keep asking us these dumbass questions that you know we don’t know and you never leave us alone. Do you seriously not know how annoying you are? Literally, give the alien shit a break. And, no, I don’t want to play your stupid game with you. It’s like you don’t get that you’re fucking my ex. I don’t like you, I don’t want to like you, and I will never like you, yet you still come around. We don’t want you here, you aren’t apart of this. Can’t you just get that through your head?”

Michael knew he’d gone too far whenever he realized everyone at the table was staring at him. It was so silent he could hear a pin drop. Most of them just looked shocked he did that, Alex looked pissed, and Jayden just looked like the sad puppy he was.

“I’m sorry,” Jayden said softly, “I didn’t realize I wasn’t welcome.”

Michael’s shoulders dropped as he steadily looked between Alex and Jayden.

“Hey, no, you are welcome,” Liz and Alex both tried, but Jayden just pushed back his chair.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry for intruding. I guess I knew I wasn’t really like you guys. Didn’t really fit. That’s my bad,” he said, forcing one of those smiles that he had but this one didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you for dinner, Isobel. Best one I’ve ever had.”

Jayden quickly exited the room with his plate in hand and no one moved until they heard the sink turn on. He was washing his plate.

Alex was the first one to speak up, glaring at him in a way that had never been meant for Michael Guerin. It made him feel younger than Jayden.

“You don’t have to like him or talk to him, Guerin,” Alex said with his voice hushed, “But you have to respect my relationship. You have to respect that he is a fucking person with feelings and you can’t just embarrass him and outcast him like that. I thought you of all people would know that.”

Alex’s chair scraped back and he quickly went to go check on his boyfriend. Michael started sinking in his chair. He’d really gone too far.

“God, Michael,” Isobel commented, “You couldn’t have even waited until after dinner?”

“Hey, are you okay?”

Alex moved up behind Jayden, placing his hand gently on the small of his back. They were always careful when it came to touching each other. They both had rules of not doing it when the other one was unaware. That had led to people getting hit on accident.

“Am I that bad?” Jayden asked, head still bowed as he washed his plate well after it was clean. “Like, am I annoying?”

Alex didn’t know what to say. To him, Jayden wasn’t annoying. He could watch him get overly enthusiastic all day long, it didn’t matter the subject. But Alex was also aware not everyone was blinded by adoration.

“I think for Michael you’re a lot,” Alex said, resting his chin on Jayden’s shoulder, “You two are similar in ways you can’t see. You’re both the same level of chaos. Michael’s stays mainly on the inside, you let yours out. I think it’s too much for him.”

“He’s so cool, Alex,” Jayden groaned and Alex smiled, “I know you guys broke up for a reason, but I don’t know how you did it. I mean, he’s not my type, you are, but I, like, I want to be his best friend. He’s so much fun.”

“I know, love,” Alex said, pressing a careful kiss behind his ear. Jayden finally smiled and lifted his shoulder, finally looking to Alex. “But you gotta go slow. He’s prickly.”

Jayden grinned in that special way that was for Alex and no one else. It made him feel warm inside.

“You’re prickly,” Jayden said, “I love how prickly you are. I just wanna make a me-shaped whole in all the cactus spikes you got on you and stay there forever.”

Alex laughed helplessly and placed a hand on his scruffy cheek, pulling him down for a kiss that possibly didn’t last long enough.

“There’s already one there.”

“No offense, but I think you’re focused on you,” Isobel said.

Michael let out a little laugh and looked up to her, waiting for her to explain what was so bad about him actually giving a shit about himself for once.

“I know you love Alex, that’s obvious. But, as someone who loves him, shouldn’t your first desire be for him to be happy?”

“I do want him to be happy,” Michael retorted.

“Well, news flash, he is. Jayden may be a baby, but Alex lights up around him. Let him have some joy for once,” Isobel said. She was annoyingly wise lately. Michael blamed all that time she was spending with Maria.

“I’m trying! It’s not my fault the guy is so annoying!” Michael complained. Isobel gave him an annoyingly mothering look.

“You need to go apologize, though. Alex was right, you of all people should know what it’s like to be outcasted. Like it or not, Jayden is with Alex and he’s going to be around. Don’t make him feel unwelcomed when the rest of us like him,” she lectured. Michael frowned.

“I don’t want to apologize.”

Her eyes drifted upwards and she sighed.

“You need to or we’re all going to lose Alex,” she pointed out. It was a lot more of a threat than anything else and he heard it loud and clear.

“Ugh, fine.”

Michael very unhappily dragged his way outside to follow where Alex and Jayden had gone. Part of him hoped they’d already left so he didn’t have to deal with it. Sadly, they hadn’t.

“Wait,” Micahel called. Alex turned on that hardened face as he looked at him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Alex pressed. Jayden cowered behind him even though he was a good six inches taller.

Michael licked his lips. He could do this.

“For being a massive dickhead,” Michael sighed, “I shouldn’t have made you feel like you weren’t welcome ‘cause you are. Yeah, you annoy me sometimes, but I also kinda love your boyfriend, so there’s a conflict of interest.”

Alex scoffed, shaking his head. Michael saw him open his mouth to argue, but Jayden spoke first.

“How is that a conflict of interest?” he asked. Both Alex and Michael didn’t really know what to say to that. “I mean, we both love Alex. That’s something in common.”

“I mean,” Michael started, a dry laugh coming from him in his shock, “I guess, but you get to actually love him and I get to be jealous.”

Jayden blinked dumbly. “Why can’t we both love him?”

“Whoa, hey, I did not agree to this,” Alex said quickly. Jayden laughed and shook his head.

“No, not like that. Just, like... What’s so wrong about loving people? Why should I not like you for loving someone I love? Like, good, give him more love. He deserves all the love. Why can’t we just shower Alex in love?”

Michael blinked at him. Alex blinked at him too, though it was for probably different reasons.

“So you just want me to... love you for loving Alex and continue to love Alex myself?” Micahel clarified. Jayden shrugged.

“Why not? I love Alex and I love you for loving Alex.”

Alex let out a shuddered breath and put his hand over his face.

“I’m too sober for this.”

“Okay,” Michael said, nodding slowly, “So you have no issues with me outwardly showering Alex in love and affection?”

“As long as Alex is okay with it, then I don’t even have a say,” Jayden said. Michael licked his lips and then looked to Alex with raised eyebrows.

Alex’s face was flushed and he couldn’t even hide the smile, though it was unclear if it was from discomfort or just being really overwhelmed. Then he just shrugged. Michael smirked. He figured he could have fun with this.

“Alright, well, you two have fun. I love you, Alex Manes,” Michael declared, reaching forward to grab his hand and then he pressed a kiss to it, “And happy Thanksgiving.”

Alex looked between Jayden and Michael who both seemed to be totally okay with everything that was happening. Alex squeezed Michael’s hand and leaned towards Jayden. This was going to be interesting.

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

#malex #ish #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #my fic

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stusbunker · 5 years

Text

Weddings and Other Holy Deals

For Better or Worst: Chapter One

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Emery Simmons-Winchester (OFC)

Setting: Mid Season 14 AU

Word Count: 1675

Summary: Sam finds an unlikely solution to the Michael problem in Dean’s head. His soon-to-be wife has her own side of the deal with the powers that be.

^*^*^

Jan. 20, 2019

Somewhere beyond the neatly trimmed lawns and the perfectly timed sprinkler systems, over a wide porch with a loveseat swing and past a storm door with etched glass, slept a Winchester. It was not a normal place for this Winchester, Sam for clarity’s sake, to be upon waking. But this wasn’t a usual day, for the hunter or anyone honestly. Though he had lived another day like this one, the excitement and anticipation he felt as he rolled over and saw his clock face shining back at him was unmatched. Today, Sam Winchester was getting married, and if he knew anything it was the best decision he had ever made. That things would only get better after today. Rare is certainty in life, which was why Sam held fast to his and began the life-changing day.

Across town, Bandit woke his bride. Bandit is her dog, soon to be their dog, a Setter mix that loved to herd. Emery Simmons had always been an animal person, but Bandit was a surprise blessing from her former life. She hadn’t asked to bring him along, though as there wasn’t much she had left, she supposed it was a perk to balance her expectations. She roamed through the short-term rental, contemplating the dress that had been left for her as she made herself a cup of tea. Bandit demanded a walk and a bout of catch in the park, which Emery accommodated, unhurried by the little preparations for the small ceremony. They weren’t going to start without her, after all.

Sam had exercised, showered and shaved by ten o’clock. He had another three hours before the service was scheduled, idle hands met a replaced contact list in his phone. He didn’t know any of these people yet, well he knew one. With little else to bide his time, Sam hit the old rotary phone icon below the smirking face.

“Whoa, when did they futz with our phones?” Emery asked, spinning around with Bandit’s leash before tucking her phone beneath her ear.

“Dunno, it’s weird right?” Sam stared at the tux bag hanging in the bedroom. Their bedroom.

“Creeptastic, actually. What’s up?” She sounded worried, maybe she was distracted. Sam was overthinking her tone and almost forgot to answer her.

“I didn’t have anyone else to call?” Sam offered, sitting at the end of the bed, huffing at himself with a sad smile. “Forget it, I’ll let you get back to your, stuff.”

“Hey, I’m just out for a walk, you’re not bothering me. Sam?” His name came out heavy, like she was reminding herself who she was marrying. He didn’t blame her. There was a scuffle on her end of the line before she groaned. “No, Bandit, no!”

Sam’s forehead shot to its full height. “Is that— are you walking a dog?”

“Uh, yesssssss? Is that going to be a problem?” Her sudden defensiveness made him grin, the image of her struggling with a leash warmed Sam from head to toe.

“Not at all, the opposite really. I love dogs.” He understood why she was anxious; they barely knew each other, it was a bit soon for a potential first fight.

“Well, good, shit, had me panicking there for a minute.” The conversation lulled as she reached the porch, each stumbling over small talk before she looked at the clock on the microwave. Sam was starting to pace, but the relief that there would be someone else in the house with them made it seem less scary somehow. They said their goodbyes and Sam decided he better eat before the nerves resurfaced. He quickly fried some bacon, out of habit, and tossed together a smoothie. Everything he could possibly want stocked in the fridge and cupboards; they had done their due diligence, apparently.

Two and a half hours later, Emery was hiking up the church steps, dress bent over her elbow and simple veil trailing behind her loose curls on a winter breeze. She had never had a lot of friends, but today was a day when a female entourage would have come in handy. She thought about her mother and how she would have worried over her hair until it needed to be reset. She sent up a silent prayer to her, telling her that she was finally making an honest woman of herself. Adding a few choice words that would have had them both pursing and posturing before breaking down into fits of giggles. God, did she miss her. She smiled quietly, opening her eyes and the heavy glass door.

The church was cavernous and quiet and after countless trips inside hallowed walls, Sam was able to appreciate the architecture and the scale of the ancient organ pipes. The minister seemed confused, but accommodating, given the last-minute organization. Sam stood at the end of the aisle, hands in his pockets, the ring box lightly brushing against his thigh. A blast of sound curled throughout the space, nimble fingers flying over aged keys as the timeless march stopped Sam’s heart. This was it, a pact fulfilled. He inhaled, swallowed, and turned to face his future.

Emery hated heels, but given the size of her husband, she may have to learn to live with them. The dress was forgiving at least, the gentle satin flowing as she glided down. Tried to glide. There was no one to give her away, no one at her elbow to keep time with, no onlookers to slow down for, no photographer to capture their faces as they saw each other for the first time. This moment was theirs alone, shy and appreciatively sacred. He smiled at her without teeth, dimples mesmerizing as she lost her rhythm, strolling to him out of the step-halt-step that was expected of her. None of that mattered anyway.

She shook her head and smiled back, licking her lips as she remembered the minister was waiting for her. Carefully she stood in front of Sam, toes of her white slippers lining up with his reflective black shoes. A small bouquet of orchids clutched in her right hand, her left petting her skirts as she tried to rub off the sweat.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here-,” the ceremony began. They echoed the scripted vows, eyes locked on each other in hopeful promise. Cautiously optimistic was too naïve for these two, humble veneration too romantic. They stood as strangers, forging a partnership to save those dearest to them. It was a contract that required both of their souls, willfully shared and bonded before Heaven and Earth. Samuel Winchester took this woman, Emery Simmons as his lawfully wedded wife. And she him. For better or worse.

Two days prior

Two days and a series of choices prior, stood the other Winchester in an underground fortress, three hundred fifty miles due East. Dean was in his bedroom, staring at Death, or Billie, if we’re being technical. Which we should, being the time jumps and all. Billie handed him the last remaining outcome of his life on Earth. The book, once one of countless possibilities, remained his sole option from world ending calamity. That was until Sam burst in, with a very stern angel on his heels.

“Dean! Listen, so—Naomi thinks she can help us. Help you, with Michael.” Dean looked from Death to his brother to the psychotic bureaucrat, the exhaustion heavy in his eyes and on his heart. Puppy dog’s hopeful eyes barraging him with an innocence he hadn’t had to let down gently in ages. Dean felt, unabashedly, like the oldest soul in the room. The women regarded each other, silent conversation earning only an audible hum from the former Reaper.

“Interesting. Dean? I think you need to hear them out. I’ll be in touch.” Billie nodded to Naomi and vanished before Sam could get a word in. No one mentioned how these beings, especially the angel, entered the Bunker. A place lauded as being the securest on the planet, had conveniently become a haven for all sorts of unmentionables.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” Dean sighed, perching on his bed as he listened to the latest hair-brained scheme. That night, after hours of arguing, endless curt responses from Naomi and rebuttals from Castiel, Dean agreed to leave with her. Before Naomi whisked him away, she shared a pregnant glance with Sam.

“We’ll be in touch,” the platinum blonde angel replied curtly. The air was suffocating with tension, Dean tried to get Sam’s attention and Cas glared at his former puppet master.

“Wait, what am I supposed to leave like there isn’t something else going on here?!” Dean bellowed at Naomi, who looked like the cat that got the cream, rolled her eyes.

“Boys, one thing at a time, please?” She gestured to a corner of the library, where a glowing pattern had appeared on the old tiles.

“How’d you—” Cas stared in awe as a portal to Heaven opened before their eyes.

“This is a one-way, temporary portal, Castiel. Don’t try to stowaway or the deal, all of the deals are off. Do I make myself clear?” Naomi glared at each man like a field trip chaperone. The men nodded, but Dean’s jaw worked over all of his unanswered questions. The pounding in his head intensified the moment Naomi arrived, which almost, was a relief. It meant Mikey knew something was happening and his suspicion was enough to swing Dean’s vote.

“Alright boys,” Dean sniffed. “See you on the other side?” He shook Cas’s hand before pulling him into a brief hug. Sam stood waiting, an arm up and one underneath, they embraced as equals. Another risk, another potential goodbye.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, bitch.” Dean chided, giving Sam a knowing smirk.

“Too short a list, jerk,” Sam tossed back, as Dean took Naomi’s hand like the kid forced to partner with the teacher in dance class. The portal swayed and flickered, the angel and the hunter pulled skyward, though Heaven was much farther away than the instant transport suggested.

“Sam?”

“Not now, Cas.” Sam stormed off, thumbing through his phone, needing to make some calls.

^*^*^

Read On: A New Normal

#for better or worst series #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x ofc #s14 au #sam x emery #simwin

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wannabemerida · 5 years

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I had so much fun writing my first kid fic with the help of my beta, @heartthrobphilly and basing it off of @bluevlvvt ’s artwork (the link above!) —— Word count: 2.6k Prompt: Phil offers to drive his friends daughter (lola) to her ballet lesson. he runs into a cute dad with his daughter rosie. he offers to drive lola to her ballet lessons every week after that. (slow plot development lol) Warnings: light cursing, angst —— It’s 3:02pm as Phil waits outside of Brookside Elementary School. According to Ian, Lola usually exits through this door and waits to be retrieved from the playground. So far, there’s no sign of the little blonde girl playing outside.

A shout of “Uncle Phil!” catches his attention and he turns around to the soccer pitch just in time to see the kindergartener running at him, embracing him in a hug when they collide. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking care of you tonight, remember? Your dad has a big business dinner, and your mom is in Wolverhampton for her job, yeah?”

“Ohhhhh, I just thought Grandma would be taking care of me again,” the six year old explains, not seeming particularly fussed.

“C’mon, let’s head home.”

Two hours later when Phil suggests they order Chinese to the brick house, Lola quickly shuts his craving down. “Uncle Phil, we can’t have Chinese tonight, Thursdays are always Kraft Dinner nights, dummy!”

“Hey Lola, are you done with your dinner? You have ballet soon and still need to get ready!” Seeing Lola’s face that has a bit of the cheesy noodles left on it from quickly scarfing down her meal, Phil grabs a paper towel from the roll on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah! Do you have my leotard?” Phil grabs the light green leotard out of the overnight bag that Lola had brought along, handing it to her with the napkin, (“Lols, you’re a mess!”) her slippers, and a pair of tights.

The drive to the Portner Ballet Studio takes about 15 minutes, with Phil accidentally hitting every red light possible. This causes Lola some distress, claiming that the five minutes she has before class “isn’t enough to talk to Rosie, and she’s the only nice one there that I like.”

Nevertheless, when the raven-haired man and his favorite “niece” enter the building, a small girl with fluffy brown hair immediately runs up to Lola and hugs her. “Rosie, this is my Uncle Phil!

“Lola! You’re finally here! Daddy said you might not be coming today because you’re normally here before me,” the brunette pauses, “but you’re here now, see, Daddy? I told you she would come!”

Phil is frozen. The man who walks up behind Rosie is the most beautiful person Phil has seen, and that’s saying something, considering that Chris Hemsworth exists. But no, the curly brown fringe, hazel eyes, tall, lanky stature, and his soft face (not to mention his monochrome aesthetic and “best dad in the world” travel mug) easily outrank even the likes of Thor.

“Um, hey?” Phil is snapped out of his trance, needing to be able to respond to the greeting. “You’re Lola’s uncle?”

“Well, um, sort of? I’m really good family friends with Lola’s dad, and so I’m kind of an unofficial uncle to her.” Had he been responding to anything else, Phil probably would’ve stuttered, but the number of times he’s had to explain the title makes it so he can explain perfectly, even in front of someone this stunning.

“I’m- I’m Dan.” The two men glance over at the young girls who are chattering animatedly.

“Oh, yeah, Phil Lester.” Dan holds his hand out for a handshake.

“Rosie’s my daughter,” he says quietly, but there’s no mistaking the fondness he has when he says it.

“I can tell, she looks just like you, without the black and white.”

“Oh, I guess we do? My parents keep saying she looks like, um, Angie-” Dan’s voice decrescendos as he gets further along his sentence.

“Angie … is Rosie’s mom?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” Phil’s heart drops.

“Cool.” Not cool. Dan has a wife. Dan had a kid. With his wife.

“Have you got any kids?” Dan asks, a light blush still visible across his cheeks.

“Ah, no, I didn’t have time to find someone in Uni and now I’m single with 2 masters degrees.” Phil unconsciously plots a way to make himself seem more interesting.

“What are they in?” Dan asks, looking genuinely curious.

“I got my first one in English language and linguistics, and my second in post-production editing.”

“What do you do with those? How do they fit together?”

“I’m a special effects engineer for Disney, and they don’t really fit together to be honest,” Phil pauses, “although I do make YouTube videos and that kind of meshes them together,”

“Wow, um, cool,” Dan stutters.

“So what about you?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your job, besides ‘best dad in the world’?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m stupid.” Phil giggles, thinking of how his father would reply with ‘Hi stupid, I’m dad!’. “But I’m a writer for Vogue and I dabble in fashion photography. It’s mainly just taking photos of Rosie if I’m being honest, but the photographers sometimes get sick and I end up doing the shoot.”

“Vogue? Like, the fashion magazine?” Phil doesn’t know much about fashion, but he’s seen the magazine numerous times in the Tesco checkout lane.

“Yeah, well, technically it’s British Vogue, but…”

“Yeah.”

There’s a calm but slightly awkward silence as the conversation loses direction. The two men avoid eye contact, not wanting to make it worse.

The silence is broken by Dan’s tenor voice. “So what films have you worked on?”

“I got to work a bit on Spiderman: Homecoming, but the Live-action Beauty and the Beast was pretty fun. You know the scene where the gold leaf comes off of the ceiling to go on Belle’s dress?” When Dan nods, Phil breaks out into a grin. “That was me.”

“Wow.” Dan breathes out. “After she saw that, she kept trying to put stickers on her ceiling in the hopes that they would transfer to her shirt. It was a nightmare.”

“Ah, sorry.”

“Nah mate, it was kind of funny as well. I’ve got a few photos that I’ll save for when she graduates.”

“She’ll love that,” Phil chuckles, and the deep, throaty sound makes Dan’s heart stutter. “So you’re into fashion?”

Dan blushes. “Yeah? I mean I can’t really afford any designers, but I’ll turn into a fanboy at times.”

“Why do they charge so much? Like, half of the suits these designers make look identical to something I could buy from a department store for thousands of dollars less.”

“Well, a lot of designers carefully hand-make every piece, whereas the stuff you get in a store has probably been made by a pre-programmed machine and poorly paid workers in a factory. There’s also differences in fabric types, quality, and origins. And, a lot of designers will tailor the suit to perfectly fit you for a slightly higher price. If you go to a department store-”

“I see what you mean when you say you turn into a fanboy, but thank you for the mini lesson on why celebrities are willing to spend so much money on a navy tux. Your insights are amusing.” Phil grins.

“Did you also know that navy suits are better investments than black ones? It’s because the blue fits into so many more settings than a black one.”

While Phil could watch Dan talk about his passions for hours, just watching and memorizing how the lines change across his face, and God, that dimple, Phil supposes his relentless staring would get a bit creepy. “So what are the ballet lessons like? I’ve only been to a few of Lola’s performances.”

“Oh, um, well, they spend the first 20 minutes warming up, and then they move to the barre where they practice a bunch of stuff that’s in French that I can’t remember, and then they start to go over the routine for their next performance.”

“What is it?”

“What?”

“Their next performance?”

“Yeah! Sorry, I’m stupid,” Dan blushes for what must be the fiftieth time since he first met Phil. “The studio is putting on The Firebird.”

“No! Um, I mean, you’re not stupid. I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with The Firebird. What is it about?” Phil has heard the name before, but only in the context of movie scores resembling Stravinsky’s composition. “It sounds kind of intense, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know much, but from what Rosie’s told me, the firebird gets caught by a prince and when he lets her go she helps him defeat the magician to save some princess, but I’m pretty sure I’m missing like half of the plot. I would say to just Google it and not to go by my word,” The nervous laughter emitted by Dan makes Phil instantly worry that he might have made the brunet uncomfortable or misread Dan’s friendliness as a blossoming friendship when it might have been a ploy to gather gossip for the nosy ballet moms.

“Thanks, I think I’ll trust you on that.” Dan offers a small smile at Phil’s response, letting the two men fall into silence as they watch the group of young girls and 3 boys practice their pliés and dégagés. An hour and a half later, the children exit the studio and find their guardians to go home.

“It was nice meeting you, Phil,’’ Dan admits as Rosie and Lola exchange a goodbye hug. The six words send Phil’s heart into overdrive and he feels his cheeks heating up.

“Yeah, you too, Dan,” Phil replies, proud of himself for not tripping over his words. Looking back, Phil’s whole interaction was impressive, considering his track record of ending up injured in some way.

Last time, Phil wound up with a broken ankle, having paid more attention to the cute digital renderer than the set of stairs they were walking down. It wasn’t all for nothing, though, Phil having gained the cute man’s phone number. Not that that did much for his love life, finding out two days that the boy he had his eyes on was dating the very female gaffer of their most recent movie, but that’s not the point.

This time, nothing will happen, because a) Phil dropping Lola off at ballet was a one time thing, so most likely, he’ll never see Dan again, and b) Dan has a daughter, who is his genetically, which means he has (or had) a wife, all summarizing that no matter how cute the brunet is, Dan is straight.

Not that Phil’s brain will accept that Dan is off-limits as a possible partner. Over the next few days, the image of soft brown eyes, curly fringes, and lanky limbs continuously make appearances in the back of Phil’s head. The very effective distractions cause Phil’s co-workers to worry, and PJ’s repetitive “have you been sleeping okay?”s have driven Phil to the point of insanity.

The answer to PJ’s question is quite easily “no”, Phil having only slept well once that week (he refused to admit it but that was the night that he got off to the image of a faceless figure who looked suspiciously like the boy who wouldn’t leave his head.)

By Wednesday, Phil was fed up with his brain’s reaction to not having seen Dan since the previous Thursday. Pulling out his phone, he does the only thing he can think of to satisfy his hungry mind. He calls Ian.

“Phil? Do you need something?” is the answer he gets when Ian finally picks up.

“No, um, I was just wondering, would you like me to take Lola to ballet again tomorrow?” Phil looks at the lines he had written down on a notepad, an effort to keep himself from going into a 20-minute rant about how in love with Dan he is.

“Sure, I guess? Why are you offering?”

“Just thought that you and Pam could use a break,”

“Oh, okay then, thanks! Same as last week?”

“Sure! Talk to you later!”

Phil’s convinced that his squeal of excitement was the reason that the people who lived across the street turned their lights on and not the fact that their smoke detector went off. He probably set that off too, in hindsight. And caused the stove fire.

23 hours later, Phil finds himself standing inside the dance studio again, surrounded by shrieking kids, chattering parents, and the faint sound of the top 20 radio playing in the background.

“Mister Phil! Where’s Lola?” Rosie pulls on Phil’s sleeve, stopping when she sees her best friend walk out of the bathroom.

“Why, Miss Rosie, she’s right there!” Rosie giggles, pulling out of a hug with Lola.

“I know that now, silly.” She and Lola run into the studio, eager to get to do the optional partner stretches before class starts.

“Are you Lola’s father?” A woman dressed in a skirt suit and heels walks up behind Phil.

“Oh, no, I’m just a family friend. I occasionally take Lola to ballet to give her parents some alone time.”

“Ah.” The woman sticks her hand out for a handshake. “I’m Angela Wright, Rosie’s mom.”

Had there been a small creature under it, Phil’s heart would have killed it from the speed at which it fell. He knew that Rosie had a mom, that Dan had a wife, that Dan wasn’t available. So why did it still hurt so much?

“Oh, cool,” Phil responds a moment later, his voice considerably deflated.

Phil’s unspoken question is answered right as it pops into is head. “Dan contracted the flu, and is stuck at home in bed, which is why I’m here this week. I’m normally responsible for taking Rosie to taekwondo while he takes care of ballet lessons, but that evidently won’t work this week. Honestly, it’s just like Dan to get a winter disease in the middle of summer.”

“I was going to ask about setting up a playdate between Rosie and Lola, but…” Angie trails off.

“Yeah,” Phil nods in understanding, not liking this woman any more than he did a minute ago. “I’m gonna go sit down.” No response comes from the woman, but Phil’s not particularly bothered.

Maybe he should be nicer to the wife of the man he’s stupidly trying to woo, but he just can’t. How is he supposed to be nice to his competition, who’s already clearly won?

When he vaguely notices the ballet instructor make a big motion with her arms, Phil decides that watching a group of five and six year olds is an adequate distraction from the turmoil in his brain. After 10 minutes of watching the kids do various tasks, jumping and prancing around the room, he zones off.

“Uncle Phillll, come onnnnnnn!” wakes Phil from his trance, no longer seeing the ballet students in the studio but now milling around the lobby and leaving. “Class ended like, forever ago! Can we leave? I wanna go get ice cream!”

A quick look at the clock told Phil that class had only ended 5 minutes ago, but to an antsy six-year-old, he supposed that could feel like an eternity.

“Lola, we aren’t getting ice cream. I’d rather not have your parents be mad at me for loading you up on sugar, right?” The small girl pouts but grabs Phil’s hand, dragging him to the car.

While it was easy getting Lola into her car seat, getting her out was a whole other task. It took Phil, Ian, Pamela, a blanket, 2 stuffed animals, and a lullaby to successfully remove the sleeping child out of the carseat, into the house, and onto her bed where she could sleep without interruption.

Once he was back in his car, Phil sat in the driveway, resting his head on the steering wheel, regretting ever offering to take Lola to dance lessons at all. Remember back in college when all those crushes were single? You fucked up, bud.

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #phan au #kid au #parent Phan au #parent Phan #Rosie Howell #ballet Phan au #Dan and Phil #dnp #soft Dan #shy Dan Howell #heart eyes Howell #love eyes Lester

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darisu-chan · 6 years

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The Force of My Love

Hey! It’s Day 2 for IR Month, and today I bring you a Bleach-Star Wars crossover, inspired in part in Anakin and Padme’s relationship. Hoe you guys like it!

You can also read it here.

Prompt: a crossover

Summary: Jedi Ichigo and Rukia end up breaking many rules just to be together.

Ichigo couldn’t concentrate. He knew it was important ─ this was their mission briefing after all ─ but his mind was elsewhere. All his attention was focused on the feeling of a hand making its way all throughout his leg until it reached his crotch. He shivered at the touch. It was awakening in him an instinctual feeling of possession. He needed more. He needed her. However, Ichigo tried to block such thoughts. He reminded himself he couldn’t possibly be thinking about that in front of Urahara, his master back when he was young, and his superior officer as well.

“Is something wrong, young Kurosaki?” The blond man asked him, a playful smile on his face.

The young Jedi Knight coughed. “No… No… everything’s fine.” Next to him, a woman snickered.

“Well, as I was saying…”

Ichigo blocked Urahara’s voice and turned to glare at her. The woman in question was Rukia Kuchiki. His partner in missions for the last five years. His mentor when the two were just padawans. His best friend. And, most importantly, his secret lover, the one whose hand was doing things to his body that should be illegal. Did he mention he was crazy about her? Such was his life, but he couldn’t complain. The two had known each other for the past ten years. Ten years of craziness, adventure and love. No one knew him like Rukia did. He wouldn’t change her for the world.

“Were you listening to me Kurosaki?” Urahara said with an unusual strict tone of voice he reserved when he wanted to appear intimidating.

“Yes, of course. We need to go to Hueco Mundo and investigate a few attacks to the Queen’s guards.” He said matter-of-factly. Even if he had been distracted, he had actually listened to what Urahara said. Well, most of it.

The Jedi Master harrumphed. “As your superior, I have to say you need to take this seriously. Supreme Chancellor Yamamoto personally appointed you two for this mission.” He said and the two Jedi nodded. “But as your friend, I’m just gonna say, have fun!” He exclaimed, taking out his fan.

Ichigo and Rukia stared at him amused. It was funny how sometimes Urahara’s mood would change drastically. Although Ichigo had to agree most often than not, his previous master was a pain in the ass.

“Well, that’s all for now. You better get going.” He told them. “You are dismissed.” He said, waving them off.

“Yes, Master Urahara.” Both Jedi said and then left.

The two walked out of his chambers and headed towards their own. On their way, they met other Jedi, who greeted them accordingly. Once or twice they saw a couple of Padawans and their masters. Ichigo was still not used to being referred to as “Master” by the kids. He wasn’t a master. Yet. So he acted awkward in every interaction. Rukia didn’t though. She actually kneeled to greet the children properly, and would smile at them, even telling them to study hard to become Knights one day. She was good with kids. The sight warmed his heart. Once that was done, they finally reached his quarters. Rukia waltzed in as if she owned the place, and she practically did for she spent most of her time with him anyway. He took his cloak off and tossed it to the ground. When he was about to take his tunic off, Rukia slammed her elbow against his ribs.

Shouting in pain, he rubbed his side. Then, he turned to glare at her. “What was that for?!”

His partner rolled her eyes. “For being distracted during our meeting with Urahara. What would have happened if we were discovered, eh, young Kurosaki?” She said in that sing-songy voice of hers he detested.

“Funny you scolded me when you started it.” He grumbled, still rubbing his abused ribs.

“Speaking of which…” She muttered, before sauntering to where he was standing. His eyes glued to the way her hips moved from side to side as she walked. Once she was in front of him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Standing on her toes, she reached his ear and whispered. “Why don’t we finish what we started?”

Minx. Ichigo thought with a smirk before capturing her lips with his. She kissed him back happily, arms already trying to get rid of his tunics. He helped her, before carrying her in his arms and throwing her on the bed. He climbed on top of her and kept kissing her, hands already wandering to his favorite places. Her moans were reward enough. He kept going, and eventually both were naked, sweaty, and oh so deeply satisfied.

“We really gotta stop doing that before missions.” He grunted, voice coming out hoarse and husky.

“It’s for good luck.” Rukia said beside him, hand making circles on his chest. “And, besides, it wouldn’t do to be horny while we fight. We need to focus on our mission.”

Ichigo didn’t say anything else. He just grunted in affirmation, and then brought her closer to his body. He kissed the top of her head. “It just makes me hornier.”

She laughed and playfully slapped his chest. “You’ll get more of that when we come back.”

“You know…” He started saying instead, hands rubbing her back. “We could have some in the ship. No one would bother us then.”

Rukia frowned. “You forget we have to bring Kon with us. And he’s not exactly the most discreet android out there.”

Ichigo groaned. “Do we really have to bring him with us?”

She giggled. “You know we do.” Then she stood up and cracked her back. “Come on, big boy, we have to pack.”

The young man let himself admire her naked body for a moment. Rukia had the body of a goddess. Soft skin that seemed to go on forever. Small and enchanting curves. A fit and smooth stomach. Strong thighs. A round ass he loved to grab. And those perky breasts. She was just stunning.

Rukia noticed his wandering eyes because she immediately leaned down and kissed him. “Come on, the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll get back and you’ll get more of that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said grinning.

He stood up and both got changed back in their clothes. Rukia waved him goodbye and went to her own room. Ichigo shook his head. He really didn’t want to leave for the mission, but he knew they had to. Well, there wasn’t much he could do but get ready. He grabbed a bag from his closet and started packing his essentials. Spare clothes. Hygiene products. Whatever he deemed was necessary. Once that was done, he left his bag near the front and took a trip to the shower. After their activities he sure needed to wash himself. He was just shampooing his hair, when he felt a pair of slim arms wrapped around him.

“Back so soon?” He asked, knowing full well who was behind him.

“Hmmm.” Rukia muttered. “I always have a bag ready for missions. I just needed to pack a few things. Thought I could use a shower before leaving.” She said. Ichigo couldn’t see her face but he was sure she had winked at him.

“You had the same idea as I did.” He said, his hands rubbing her arms.

“You know what they say, great minds think alike.”

He chuckled and then he untangled himself from her embrace to face her. He brought her under the shower head. Her short black hair got wet immediately and it began sticking against her head. Water trickled down her bare neck and made a path down her exposed breasts and the rest of her body. God, she was beautiful. He pulled her in for a deep kiss, which she returned happily. Excited, Ichigo pushed her against the wall and kissed her neck.

“Ichigo.” She giggled, playing with his hair. When he sucked harder, Rukia gasped and moaned. “Ichigo.” She said, with more urgency this time. He kept going. “Ichigo!” She said more sternly and he finally pulled away.

“What?” He asked. He took a moment to admire his handiwork. Rukia’s cheeks were flushed, and her chest moved up and down fast in agitation. There, staining her pale skin, was his mark. He smirked smugly.

“If you keep that up we’ll never leave.” She admonished him.

“Fine.” Ichigo said and he let her drop down.

They showered as quickly as they could, stealing kisses every once in a while. They slipped out of the shower and got dressed in clean clothes. Ichigo noticed Rukia had brought her bag with her, and when they were ready, she grabbed it and headed to the door. He followed her, grabbing his discarded bag on the way. On the way out of the temple, they kept greeting people. Ichigo was never the most cheerful person, and such things annoyed him. It was no use though. In here everyone was kind.

“Ichigo! Rukia!” A female voice said.

“Kurosaki. Kuchiki.” Another added.

“Inoue. Ishida.” Ichigo greeted them, and Rukia nodded as well.

The man and woman in front of them were their friends. Orihime Inoue was a member of the senate they had befriended during one of their missions. She was a sweet young woman, who was always smiling. Her companion was Uryu Ishida, son of a senator, and a Jedi like them. He had been appointed Orihime’s personal guard, however both Ichigo and Rukia suspected there was more going on between them than just a simple friendship.

“I heard you’re going on a mission.” Ishida said after their greetings.

“Yes. We’re leaving for Hueco Mundo soon.” Rukia answered, adjusting the strap of her bag. Wordlessly, Ichigo took it from her.

“Hueco Mundo?” Orihime asked, with wide eyes.

“Yeah. That’s right.” Ichigo said.

Hueco Mundo was a planet far away from Coruscant. It was almost all a desert. A rough place to live. Somehow, the inhabitants of the planet had managed to survive despite the terrible weather and environment. The days were long but the nights were longer. The Arrancar, the alien race who lived there, were a rowdy bunch. It had taken some time until Hueco Mundo was part of the Republic. As such, security in it wasn’t the best around. They were known for illegal fighting rings, slavery, kidnapping and drug dealing. What was truly worrisome for the Senate was the belief that several Sith Lords hid in there. Orihime, once, had been a victim of a particularly nasty Sith. She had been taken from her home and taken to Hueco Mundo, where she waited until Ichigo, Rukia and Ishida had been appointed to rescue her. The girl still had nightmares from the whole ordeal.

“What’s happening there now?” Ishida asked, clearly annoyed.

“The queen’s been having problems.” Ichigo said. Ishida nodded in understanding.

“Sorry to cut this conversation short, but we have to leave now. It’s going to take us a while to reach Hueco Mundo.” Rukia interrupted, seeing the hour in her watch.

“Right. Don’t let us make you late.” Ishida said.

“Good luck in your mission!” Orihime told them.

The two Jedi waved goodbye and left.

“We still have some time.” Ichigo complained. “We could’ve stayed and talked to them some more.”

“Orihime seemed uneasy.” Rukia replied. “She got pale the moment we mentioned Hueco Mundo. I thought it’d be better for her if we stopped talking about it.”

He chuckled. “You really do care about your friends.”

Rukia blushed, embarrassed. “Shut up.”

“By the way,” Ichigo started saying. “Did you tell your brother about the mission?”

The young woman shrugged. “I figured Urahara or someone else would fill him in.”

That was a lie, though. Ichigo knew Byakuya Kuchiki, her brother and member of the Senate, would have thrown a fit had he heard his sister was going on a solo mission with Ichigo again. Byakuya wasn’t Ichigo’s best fan, although their relationship had improved greatly. The older man probably felt that Rukia’s partner would try to do unspeakable things to her. And he was right. Byakuya always warned her not to get too close to Ichigo, just in case. The irony was that Rukia was the one to always go in his room at night, and the one to initiate half of their encounters. Today was just an example of that. The other reason to hide for Rukia to not tell her brother anything was that she would have to, undoubtedly, see her brother’s guard, Renji. He and Rukia used to be childhood friends, who became estranged as time went by and life separated them. Back when they were training, Ichigo and Renji used to be rivals due to their natural competitive personalities. Although Ichigo back then didn’t realize right away that their rivalry was founded on the fact Ichigo was now closer to Rukia. And when the two were named partners, that didn’t sit well with Renji either. He had stopped talking to them, feeling betrayed. It wasn’t difficult to see he was in love with Rukia, and not being the number one person in her life hurt him. He had distanced himself from them and now all interactions were awkward. It was no wonder Rukia didn’t go see her brother often.

“I guess that’s true.” Ichigo added. “But maybe next time give him a heads-up. Byakuya might believe I kidnapped you or something.”

“Are you scared of my brother, Ichigo?” She asked him, grinning at him in a way he knew spelled bad news.

“Of course not!” He replied, embarrassed.

“Sure.”

As they approached the hangar, conversation dwelled between them. Whenever there was silence between them, it was never awkward. The best part about his relationship with Rukia was that they could read each other without having to speak. They knew each other like the back of their hand. As such, every moment between them was comfortable. After ten years of knowing each other, Ichigo couldn’t expect any differently. Rukia could very well be the only person in the entire universe who knew him inside out. He prided himself he could do the same. He smiled as he looked at her. He hoped he would feel this peace whenever they were together, so he decided to cherish this moment. Which lasted about two seconds when a voice resounded from the hangar.

“RUUUUKIAAAAA!” Someone shouted. In the blink of an eye a small android made his way towards Rukia, leaping to hug her. “How I missed you!” He yelled as he tried to bury his robotic head in her chest.

“Don’t even think about it!” Both Ichigo and Rukia said, as the latter got out of the way, and Ichigo kicked him to the other side.

“Ichigo! You’re so mean! I only wanted to greet Rukia properly!” The android said, even sniffing a bit.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s no way to greet her and you know it.”

The android in question was the unit K-0N, otherwise known as Kon by the two Jedi. When they started going on missions, they had requested an android to aid them in their quests. Urahara had told them he had the perfect robot for them. Then he had given them Kon as a gift. Ichigo should have known there was something suspicious about him, but when they found out, it had been too late. Kon wasn’t the most intelligent or capable android out there, and he was perverted to boot. He was an annoyance more than anything. His only attribute was that he was good at shooting and creating diversions. Ichigo honestly would have thrown him in the garbage if he and Rukia hadn’t become fond of the little guy. After so many adventures together, it would have been unthinkable to go anywhere without him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t a pain in the ass.

It was Rukia’s turn to roll her eyes at their bickering. “If you have finished staring into each other’s eyes, we should get going.”

“Who’s staring into his eyes?!” Both robot and man exclaimed at the same time, making equally disgusted faces.

The woman merely laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”

She started walking away when she stumbled on her feet. Ichigo quickly grabbed her. “Rukia! Are you okay?” He asked her, clearly worried. Next to them, Kon had approached them, looking equally worried.

She simply shook her head. “I’m fine. Let go.” She said. When Ichigo didn’t move, she sighed. “I’m fine, really. I just didn’t look where I was going and tripped. You can let go now.”

Ichigo did as he was told and followed Rukia until they boarded the ship. He had noticed she had been acting weird for a whole week. But since they had had other jobs to do around, he hadn’t gotten the chance to ask her. He had planned to do it that day, but surprise, surprise, they had been tasked with a new mission in another planet. He figured he would be able to talk to her after their returned. Unless something went out wrong, or there was an emergency, they were usually given two days to rest from their work. Ichigo observed her once more. She looked slightly pale, but it was difficult to tell since her skin was so white to begin with. Maybe she was getting sick. Whatever it was, it would have to wait.

After boarding the ship, they left their bags on their rooms and then went to the cockpit. Ichigo sat in his seat, Rukia next to him, and Kon on the other side. He turned on the ship, and then flew up and away from Coruscant. Once in space, he said, “Set the curse to Hueco Mundo.” Immediately the ship went in that direction. It didn’t look as if there was much traffic or other problems in there. “Alright. We should arrive tomorrow at this pace.” He said, making quick calculations.

Rukia nodded. “Let’s tell Urahara.”

She called him from the ship and the Jedi Master answered. “Young Kurosaki, Young Kuchiki, I see you’re on your way!” He exclaimed upon seeing them.

“Yes. We will arrive tomorrow to Hueco Mundo.” Rukia told him.

Urahara nodded. “Excellent! According to the information I just received, you should have no problems getting there. Once you arrive, report immediately.”

“Yes.” Both said.

“Oh, and before you, remember don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Urahara said before he hung up.

“That guy’s so weird.” Kon muttered.

“You can say that again.” Ichigo said. He then reclined back on his seat. “Well, from here on it’s just gonna be a smooth ride.” He said. The hard part had been breaking out of the atmosphere. Now they could relax.

“Good. I’m starving!” Rukia said and she stood up, presumably to the kitchen to eat.

Ichigo simply put the ship on autopilot and turned to Kon. “Keep an eye in here while we eat.” And he stood up to leave before the android could complain.

He walked to where he knew Rukia would be, and sure enough, he found her rummaging in the cabinets. “What are you doing?” He asked her.

“Looking for something edible.” She answered, not even bothering to look in his direction.

“You know mission food is always the same.” Anything that could be frozen, dehydrated ad packed served as their food during their travels. They would have to eat at a restaurant once they landed to get actual food.

“A girl can only dream.” She said, this time looking at him. He chuckled a bit.

Ichigo took out the first bag he saw in there, and started eating it. It was not bad, but it wasn’t great either. It tasted like nothing. To be honest, that was one of the most annoying parts of traveling, right behind hanging out with Kon. As he ate, sitting on the table, he observed Rukia. She kept looking around the cabinets, until she settled for some fried fruit native of Coruscant. She joined him and started eating too.

“You’d think with all this technology we’d invent better space food.” She mumbled between bites.

“Guess we’re focusing the most in weapons.” He added.

“By the way, did you bring guns beside your lightsaber?”

“Course I did. I brought three different kinds. Just in case.”

Rukia nodded. “Me too. Would prefer it if we didn’t engage in direct combat.”

“What? Scared of a little action?” He asked her a bit sarcastically.

“I just don’t want to stay there more than necessary. I just want us to get there, see what the problem is, investigate as much as we can, and come back without any other delay.” She said, still munching on her food. “But with you around, it’ll be almost impossible.” She added as an after-thought.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Ichigo asked, offended.

“Let’s face it, trouble always follows you.”

“What?! That’s not true!”

“Name one time we didn’t end up getting into fights with one group or another.” Rukia said.

Ichigo stopped. He started thinking, remembering each and every single one of his missions. On his first mission ever with Urahara, he accidentally fell down a hole in a shady part of Galactic City. That led him to a drug dealing gang. Of course, the situation ended up in his fifteen year old self fighting with his new lightsaber a bunch of gang members. Urahara had to come back to rescue him. On his first mission with Rukia, they had ended up discovering a Sith Lord by accident, which basically ended up with them having to fight several androids, the Sith’s student, and the Sith himself, before they could get back on their ship. Just last month, somehow they ended up in a bar fight after finishing their mission.

When he didn’t answer, his partner smirked. “Told ya.”

He grumbled. “Whatever. You know you like the action.”

“That I can’t deny.” Then, she looked at her watch. “Better head to bed now. We have a long day tomorrow.” She said, stretching and standing up.

Ichigo smirked, having an idea. He got to his feet, and encircled his arms around Rukia, pushing her against the counter. “Since I’m free for a while, why do you say we enjoy our time in bed?”

“Oh?” She said, clearly amused. “What were you thinking of?”

“You know, the usual. You. Me. No space between us. There’s a specific move I’ve been meaning to try.” He said, trying to play it cool, although he was getting pretty excited.

Rukia laughed. “Though that sounds delightful, I’m afraid I’ve already had my fair share of action today.” She said, her smile widening when Ichigo pouted.

“You weren’t saying that earlier today.” He mumbled.

Pulling away from his embrace, she sauntered away. “We can go back to it when we come back.” Then she left him alone to his thoughts.

“Goddamnit.”

Ichigo really did love her, but the woman drove him insane. He knew she was right. If they did anything in the ship, they risked Kon finding out, and he wasn’t necessarily the most discreet android in the world. He would totally let it slip and if he did… Ichigo shivered. He didn’t want to know what the council would do to them. Technically speaking, Jedi couldn’t have romantic relationships of any kind, much less get married and start a family. Jedi couldn’t have any attachments. There had been cases where they had renounced and moved to other places to be with their loved ones. Others had been punished severely, their reputations and their lives completely ruined. He didn’t want that to happen to either of them. Both had their own ambitions. They wanted to become masters. He knew for a fact Rukia wanted to have a seat on the council. They wanted to save the world. But, he thought that night in bed, he loved her even more than being a Jedi and playing hero. Given the choice, he knew he would choose her. But would Rukia choose him if that ever came to be?

He was afraid to realize he didn’t know the answer.

Next morning, Ichigo went early back to his seat. He was glad to see nothing seemed out of the ordinary and that Kon had actually behaved. He had breakfast with Rukia and both took their seats again. Time passed peacefully as they planned their mission. They would immediately present themselves to Queen Harribel, and then they would be briefed with more detail about the situation. Next they would scope the perimeter, looking for anything out of the ordinary. According to the information they would receive, they would act accordingly. If everything went fine, they would return tomorrow home and report to the council. It things were more complicated in reality… Well, they would just have to make due.

“So what do we know about Harribel?” Ichigo asked.

“She became queen after the previous king, Barragan, passed away. She was elected queen by the members of Hueco Mundo’s council. She’s young, a bit older than us, and will remain in office until her death.” Rukia explained.

“So basically Hueco Mundo still has a monarchy.”

“It’s one of the few planets left with a full monarchy, yes.”

Ichigo nodded. “Surprising the Supreme Chancellor hasn’t made them become a democracy.”

“Guess he doesn’t want any more problems. Hueco Mundo’s allegiance to the Republic is shaky as it is.”

Hueco Mundo was one of the worst places to live in the whole universe. There was crime in every corner. It was probably infested with Sith too. Urahara had once tried to ask the Council to organize an operation to actually investigate the place, and take down any suspicious activity. However, it was rejected. No one wanted to spend resources in a planet that was deeply infested with criminals. What Ichigo and Rukia both feared was that certain planets got better treatment than others. The rest were left to do whatever they pleased, which meant more crime in the long run.

“And her reign is also shaky.” Ichigo wondered.

“It seems Harribel’s not like the previous king. She’s imposing stricter laws.”

“Which means giving criminals a hard time. Gotcha.”

“She believes the people targeting her might be working for a Sith Lord.”

“Then we’ll totally have fun today.” Ichigo said and she laughed.

“No calm mission for us.”

“When has that ever been the case?”

Upon arriving, they were well-received by Harribel’s people. They walked out and into her palace, Kon coming along.

“Listen, Kon.” Rukia said dangerously before disembarking. “Queen Harribel has certain attributes you’ll like. But you have to act accordingly.”

“If you ruin this for us, I swear I’ll tie you up in front of the ship, got it?” Ichigo said equally as menacingly.

“G-got it…” Kon had promised and, as he had told them, didn’t really react when they finally were in front of the queen of Hueco Mundo.

“Greetings, Jedi Knights. I welcome you to my planet.” Queen Harribel said, sitting on her throne.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Both said as they bowed down. Kon, albeit a bit later, bowed down too.

“Let’s go to a more private place, shall we?” The queen said, raising from her seat and already walking down the hall.

Ichigo and Rukia eyed each other and then nodded. They followed Harribel until they reached a room, where tea and snaks waited for them.

“Please, have a sit.” She said, gesturing to the table.

Both Jedi sat down and accepted the beverages they were given by the servants. Harribel waved them away, and only her personal guards, all female, remained.

“I assume Master Urahara has already informed you of the situation.” She spoke.

“Briefly. We don’t know all the details. He thought it’d be better if you told us yourself, Your Majesty.” Rukia answered.

Harribel shook her head. “Don’t be so formal with me. Even if I’m queen now, I come from humble origins. I know what it’s like to live on the streets, trying to survive. I know what’s like running away from thieves and bandits.” She said with a faraway look on her face as she gazed at the window. “Which is why I made my way to the council, and here we are.”

The two didn’t say anything, they just listened to her. They had a feeling there was more to her story than they had previously thought.

“On my way to the top, I, of course, made some enemies. Some more insignificant than the others. But with my recent policies, I’m afraid I have offended someone of outmost importance.” She said.

“Don’t tell me it’s a Sith Lord.” Ichigo said, before he could stop himself.

Harribel chuckled. “Of course it is. This place is one of their many hideouts. They go around doing whatever they please, but now that I’ve made plans for more and better security, one of them wasn’t pleased.” She said.

“What is his name?” Rukia asked. “Perhaps we’ve heard from him.”

“He calls himself Darth Insaniam. And he is as crazy as his name implies.” The queen said as she took a sip from her cup. “My guards have already informed he’s making his move, which is why I asked for your help.”

“Tell us your orders.” Rukia said.

“I’ll be receiving the council today at their quarters. Insaniam will make an appearance and will attempt to assassinate me. I want you to apprehend him.”

“It will be done.”

“Marvelous. Then I’ll let my guard help you secure the perimeter of the room.”

With that, the queen dismissed them and, three hours later, both Jedi sat down, exhausted. They had already scoped the Council Headquarters as well as its surroundings. The security was adequate for what it was, but they made some improvements. More guards were appointed everywhere, and Harribel accepted to be personally escorted by the two of them until they reached the room. She did not want them inside the room when the meeting took place, so they were to wait outside until it was over. True to their words, Ichigo and Rukia escorted her from the palace to the council quarters, and remained with her until it was time for the meeting. Then, they exited the room and stood outside, guarding the door.

“Do you think he’ll come?” Ichigo asked next to Rukia, keeping an eye on the corridor to his left.

“I’m sure he will. If we’re lucky enough, we’ll apprehend him without much trouble.” She said.

“He’s a Sith. He’ll give us trouble.”

“That’s why I said if we’re lucky.”

They didn’t say anything else, returning to guarding over the door. So far so good. There was no one around except for the guards. Feeling satisfied, Ichigo took his time to observe Rukia. She had been looking queasy all morning. She had barely had breakfast, even if their food was tasteless. And, after having tea with the queen, her stomach had been upset. He had tried asking her about it, but his partner had waved him off. Stubborn brat. She still look pale like in the day before, and although it was their job and he would need back up, if they had to fight, Ichigo didn’t want her anywhere near the action. If she was feeling sick, she had no business fighting.

“Ten more minutes and the meeting will be over.” Rukia said, making him focus on the mission and not on his thoughts.

Ichigo almost sighed in relief. “More than an hour has gone by, and there has been no sign of him.”

“It’s possible it was a false alarm.” She added.

“Probably.”

And just as they had uttered those last few words, there was an explosion on the corridor next to where they were. A few people swore as they dove for cover. Ichigo wrapped his arms around Rukia and pushed them to the floor. Kon moved in front of them and covered them up. Looking at his partner, he could tell that they both had the same thing in mind: Darth Insaniam had arrived.

“You stay here and guard the queen!” Ichigo said, sprinting into action.

“But Ichigo─”

“Kon!” He cut her off.

“Yeah?”

“Protect Rukia!” He said, before running towards where he could hear someone stomping.

“Ichigo!”

He ignored her call. It was imperative someone would stay to keep the queen safe, but it was also important the Sith was stopped before he could reach the queen. He run to the corridor, taking out one of his guns. Some guards were already shooting. Apparently they were being invaded by androids. Just great. He shoot several of them, as he ducked and ran at the same time. Finally, he was face to face with a dark figure surrounded by androids.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Kurosaki.” The voice spat. Ichigo recognized that voice.

“Grimmjow?” He said out loud, shocked.

The figure took off his hood, revealing the face of a man. He had blue, spiky hair and was grinning manically at him. It was none other than Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, a rogue Jedi who had been involved with Orihime’s kidnaping. Last time Ichigo had seen him was on the way to prison. Of course someone had freed him. Ichigo had no idea that had happened, much less that he was now a Sith, but it made sense. Grimmjow was from Hueco Mundo, and he had been involved in countless crimes all over the universe.

“Surprised to see me?” The man asked.

“Not as much as I should be.” Ichigo answered, putting his gun away and taking out his saber.

“What are you doing here?” Grimmjow said, clearly relaxed.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He grinned. “I came here for the queen.”

“What a coincidence. I’m here to stop the one who wants her.” Ichigo said.

His grin grew even larger. “Then, there’s only one thing left to do.”

Grimmjow didn’t even wait to finish the sentence before grabbing his saber and leaping towards Ichigo. The Jedi quickly blocked the attack and pushed him away. Both smiled cockily and pulled back.

“As fast as ever I see.” The Sith commented.

“You too.”

“You know, I’ve been dying to fight you again.” Grimmjow said.

“Che. That’s my line.” Ichigo answered and attacked first.

They went around the whole place, lightsabers crashing with each thrust. They were evenly matched. Before, Grimmjow had almost managed to get the upper hand, but now, years later and after much training, Ichigo was in better form. But so was his foe. Grimmjow had grown even stronger and faster. It was taking all of his focus to block and duck each attack. Ideally, he would have needed his partner around to defeat him quickly. But there was no way he was letting Rukia anywhere near him now that he knew the Sith was Grimmjow. Not after last time.

“Where’s your little partner?” Grimmjow asked as if reading his thoughts. “Don’t tell me she didn’t make it.”

“Of course she did. She’s keeping the queen safe while I kick your ass.”

“Pity, I wanted to finish what I started last time.”

“Don’t even think about it!”

That had been one of the scariest moments in Ichigo’s life. During that mission, Grimmjow had hurt Rukia real bad. He had made a whole in her stomach, and she had lost a lot of blood. Thankfully, Ishida had acted quickly and he had taken her to the ship, where he could attend her. Ichigo had been left by himself, enraged. He had fought Grimmjow until neither of them could move anymore, but the man had been saved by one of his accomplices. Ichigo had had to go on his mission, locating Orihime. He had left him go. But not this time. He would make him pay for almost killing Rukia that time.

Around them, there were no more androids. Behind him, he could hear the queen’s guard dealing with them. He was sure Rukia and Kon were fighting too. That was good. It meant his sole focus would be on his opponent. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but they had suddenly moved to a room, away from the queen. They had destroyed everything on their wake and now they stood side by side.

“You’ve given me a great fight today, Kurosaki.” Grimmjow said, the red light from his saber making his grin looked even more sadistic. “But this is the end. I’m falling behind schedule, you see.”

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.” He said.

The Sith smirked and then pulled out a second lightsaber. “Now it’s on.”

Ichigo leapt away, flipped in the air and came back to slash. Grimmjow blocked his attack and they moved around the room, repeating the same actions as before. They were getting tired already. Ichigo knew he needed to finish the fight soon. He applied more force to his next attack and managed to slam Grimmjow against a wall. The action made him lose one of his lightsabers. That deeply enraged him. Using the force, he made Ichigo lose balance and slam against the other wall, breaking it and landing into the next room. Groaning, he tried to sit only to watch as Grimmjow approached him, lightsaber in hand. Ichigo looked for his own finding it on the other side of the room. That wasn’t good.

“This is where our little fight ends. Thanks for everything, Kurosaki, but this is the end.” He said, raising his weapon to finish him off.

“Your end, you mean.” Someone said, moving in front of Ichigo and blocking Grimmjow’s attack.

“Rukia!” Ichigo exclaimed once he recognized his partner in front of him.

“Look who has come out to play.” Grimmjow muttered.

“The queen’s been secured. Now all we need is to catch this criminal.” Rukia said, not even once taking her eyes from the Sith. “I’ll take him now.”

“Let’s see if that can happen!” Grimmjow said and attacked.

Ichigo was worried. Rukia wasn’t in the best of shapes. He could see she was tired by the way she was panting, and she also looked paler than before. This wasn’t good at all. He stood up and winced. He definitely had a broken rib, but that could be taken care of later. He ran to his lightsaber, getting out of the way of the fight. When he reached it, it had been too late. Grimmjow had managed to take the lightsaber away from Rukia’s hands, and had her in a vice grip.

“I’ve been waiting years for this moment.” He said maniacally. “The day I’d finally kill you, Jedi scum.”

Rukia didn’t say anything. She just raised her hand and using all her energy, she managed to push Grimmjow away from her using the force, just in time for Ichigo to use his lightsaber and stabbed him in the chest. The Sith looked first at the Jedi Knight and then at his chest. Then, he laughed. It was a pitiful laugh.

“But of course. Only you, Kurosaki, only you.” He muttered before collapsing. Whatever he had meant by that was lost to both Jedi.

“Rukia!” Ichigo said, running towards her.

“I’m fine.” She said, though she was out of breath.

“No, you’re not fine! I need you to take you to the infirmary!” He yelled, inspecting her for any visible wound.

“I’m fine. Really. Just tired. You’re the injured man.” She said, pointing at his forehead, where blood trailed down.

“Oh.”

“Let’s go.”

There wasn’t a lot to be done after that. The guards seized Grimmjow and then, upon inspecting him, declared him dead. The queen was already safe and sound in her palace. The Jedi went and had an audience with her, reporting what had happened during the attack. The queen had only thanked them, and had sent them to see her doctors, after she noticed they were in bad shape. Ichigo had been quickly cured, only after making sure Rukia wasn’t actually hurt. Now that everything had passed, he didn’t feel scared for her any longer. Instead, he was pissed. He had told her to stay behind, but had come to his rescue. She should have sent Kon, but no, she had to go and save him, almost getting killed in the process. The idiot. In his anger, he ignored her, only speaking when necessary. They boarded the ship after they weren’t needed anymore. Ichigo set the course towards their home, while Rukia reported to Urahara. He put the ship on autopilot and left to his room, not even bothering to eat something. Even Kon didn’t speak to him, and kept his mouth shut. Upon arriving, they reported everything to the council and returned to the temple, bags in hand. Rukia followed him wordlessly, knowing better than to try and talk to him. When Ichigo was mad, there was nothing you could say to make him feel better. He needed to calm down first. He went into his room, and Rukia went in behind him. She softly closed the door and sat down on his bed, waiting for him to talk.

“What was that?” He practically hissed.

“What was what?” Rukia countered instead of answering.

“Don’t play dumb!” Ichigo yelled. “I’m asking what the fuck was that?!”

Although she flinched, she didn’t back down. “I was doing my duty. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“That was not your duty! I had him!” He retorted.

“Really? Then why were you laying on the floor?” She asked sarcastically.

“That’s beside the point! You were supposed to keep the queen safe!”

“Which I did!” She yelled, offended at what Ichigo was implying. “She was already out of the building by the time I reached you!”

“You should’ve gone with her!”

“And leave you alone to die?! I don’t think so!”

“Damnit all, Rukia!” Ichigo exclaimed. “You almost died today for trying to help me!”

“But I didn’t! I’m fine, and you’re fine, and we accomplished our mission! You should be happy!”

“But I’m not! You’re sick! And you’ve been hiding something from me!” He finally addressed the elephant in the room. “How can I trust you’ll be alright if you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on? I thought we were partners.” And he meant that in more ways than one.

Rukia didn’t say anything. She looked to the ground, her hands grasping hard the sheets of the bed. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Ichigo.”

“The truth.” He answered simply, much calmer after yelling.

She sighed and buried her head in her hands. “If I tell you, it’d be the end.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He exclaimed, clearly baffled by her words.

She looked up, eyes scared. “I’m pregnant.” She whispered softly.

Ichigo’s eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. “You’re… you’re what now?” He said.

“Pregnant.” Rukia answered once more, fear lacing her voice.

“Holy shit.” He said, pacing around the room.

“Ichigo, I’m pregnant.” She said again, alarmed.

“You mean to tell me you went on a mission while pregnant? Fuck! You fought while pregnant!” He said, waking from side to side.

“Ichigo.” She called him.

That did it for him. He instantly went by her side and sat on the bed. “Oh, Rukia.” He said. He pulled her towards him, letting her bury her head on his chest.

“What do we do now?” She whispered, clutching him for dear life.

A million thoughts raced in his mind.

Jedi couldn’t have any attachments. They couldn’t own properties. They couldn’t have romantic relationships. They couldn’t get married. They couldn’t have children. They were sworn to a life of celibacy and attachment. To do the opposite was breaking the rules. But the two of them had willingly broken them to be together. They had thought that, if no one ever found out, they would be fine. But this changed everything. Even if Rukia got rid of it, someone would know. It wasn’t a procedure that could be easily covered up. If someone found out, they would surely lose it all. They would be pariahs. Who knew what they would do to her. And Ichigo was sure she’d do anything to say he wasn’t involved. She’d do anything to protect her.

He would do the same for her.

“You know, my dad went through something like this.” He muttered.

Rukia sat straight and faced him. “What do you mean? Isn’t your father just a doctor?”

He shook his head. “I thought so too. But two years ago he revealed everything to me.” He paused, looking for the right words. “He was a Jedi like us.” She gasped.

A couple of years ago, Ichigo had gotten a few days off. Naturally, he had gone back to his home planet to visit his family. Rukia, who almost always tagged along, had remained as she wanted to spend some time with her brother. Isshin, his father, had asked him about his relationship with his partner. Even if Ichigo had denied any relationship between them, his father knew better. He had warned him about the Jedi lifestyle before he began training. He hadn’t listened to him. But, this time, Isshin wanted to be heard. So, he told Ichigo everything he had to know.

“He changed his name. Apparently, his real last name is Shiba.” He said, and Rukia recognized the name instantly, for her own mentor had been the late Kaien Shiba. “He was about to become master, when he met my mother.”

Masaki Kurosaki, a common girl from a common planet, had stolen Isshin’s heart from the moment he had met her. They had spent time together during his brief stay in her planet, and even talked regularly after he had left. He had made a point to visit her regularly and, eventually, he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He had fallen in love with her. He thought he could wiggle his two lives together, and keep hidden the fact he was in a relationship. That didn’t last long.

“After four years, Urahara discovered him. He gave him two choices, either he stopped seeing my mother and, if he refused, he would tell on him with the council. Or…”

“Or?” Rukia asked.

“Or he could leave and never come back.”

Isshin had eloped without a second thought. He had left his weapons, his clothes, his everything. He rode a ship to Masaki’s planet and they got married soon after. He took her last name and together they lived peacefully with their three children. He worked as a medic and they made enough money. No one recognized him as a former Jedi. Urahara had made sure to say he had died in action. Even after Masaki passed away, Isshin never spoke of his previous life and did not want to return to it. He didn’t say anything either when Ichigo had been recruited as a child to become a Jedi or taken to Galactic City. He had kept quiet for decades. He had only decided to tell his son the truth when he saw history repeating itself in front of his own eyes.

“He left.” Rukia said.

“Yeah, he did. And he told me he doesn’t regret him. He said that if he could go back in time, he’d still make this choice.” Ichigo explained.

“You’re saying we elope?” She asked.

“I don’t see what other choice we have.” Ichigo said. If they were found out, Rukia’s life could be in danger. He didn’t want her to pay the price for their mistakes.

“But you can’t leave!” She exclaimed. “You want to become a Jedi Master!”

“So do you.” He said. “But I don’t see what else we can do without endangering you.”

“I could leave by myself.” Rukia said. “Leave and take a new identity. And I can raise the baby by myself.” She said, gently touching her belly.

“You want to keep it?” Ichigo asked, filled with emotion.

She smiled sweetly at him. “I can’t get rid of our baby.”

He choked back tears. “Shit.” He cursed. “I don’t want you to go through this by yourself.” He said.

“I don’t want you to leave your life behind.” She said. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

Ichigo hugged her tenderly. “Oh, Rukia, I could never regret being with you.” He said, kissing her head lovingly. “I choose you. Now and forever.”

“Then what do we do?” She asked.

“We leave, together. I have a few planets in mind where we could take on new identities. I’m sure my dad will help us out. And then, we’ll be saved, and so will our baby.”

Rukia smiled. “Alright. I trust you.”

“We leave tonight.”

They packed the bare essentials and sneaked out of the temple. They left their lightsabers behind as well as all of their guns. They took the first ship they could to Ichigo’s home planet without being spotted. There, a not at all surprised Isshin received them with open arms. They got married a week later. Next opportunity they got, they left for the most peaceful planet they could find and settled there. Rukia became a teacher and Ichigo decided to take after his father as a local medic. Their son was born a few months later, healthy and strong. Later on, he would ask them why they choice this life instead of continuing being Jedi. Both spouses would chuckle and smile.

“It wasn’t a tough decision at all.” They said. “We’ll always choose each other and we’ll always choose you.”

For that was the force of their love.

#ichiruki #ichirukimonth #ichiruki fanfiction #my fanfiction

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mimiplaysgames · 6 years

Text

Strength to Protect the Things That Matter (Ch. 17)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua (eventually) Rating: T Other characters: Master Eraqus, Riku, Sora, Kairi, Xehanort Word Count: 11,596 In-progress

Summary: Terra has prayed for years for relief from having no one to talk to in the dark, except with the monster of a man who stole his life. He gets his chance - less than a week - to set things right before he loses everything again.

AO3 FF.net

A/N: This is an 11k behemoth, omg! I had more planned for this chapter, but I can’t fit more. Despite that I have already announced how the rest will be laid out and when this fic will finish, I had to split this one. Instead of one transitionary chapter, you guys will get two. This part is the Destiny Trio fluff (kind of). I’ve pretty much accepted that the way I write fluff is just my style. The next chapter will be the Final Fantasy part, and it’s really weird to end this chapter differently than the rest. But I really do hope that it’s enjoyable at the very least!

Vacation

The park was small. Terra sat on a bench where the grass met the sidewalk, where an endless sea of grey and otherwise colorless skyscrapers surrounded the little patch of green. From there, he watched the other children play kickball. His cheeks, arms, and abdomen still hurt from earlier, and his bruises were still a vibrant purple. He reached for the bandage on his face, which covered a scratch he received when he was pushed into the dirt and had grazed a rock.

One of the kids kicked the ball and it flew his direction. He scurried over to pick it up, and was quick to throw it back. There he stood, waiting to see if this small interaction would lead to an invitation to join the game.

But children were either mean or didn’t know what to do with someone like him, and that invitation never came. This meant that he wasn’t wanted, so he sat back on the bench and continued to observe.

Of course, the exact adult who had scolded him earlier for his behavior was the one who noticed that he was all by himself. The organizer of the orphanage, who also taught the children, approached to sit down next to him.

“You don’t want to play?” she asked, her eyes hidden behind glasses and incredibly long blonde hair, where only half of it was tied upward in a bun. She wore a bright orange dress, so that anyone could find her if they needed.

Of course he wanted to play. It was just hard to deal with the humiliation. Besides, no one wanted to play with him. “No, Miss Quistis.”

She stroked his hair and pursed her lips. “I’m so sorry, Terra, that you feel this way. But you know it isn’t right to punish the other boys.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was small and high-pitched, and he stared at the grass. The other kids would probably spread rumors over what they were talking about right now.

“I have allowed you to come out and play because I know you thought you were doing the right thing,” she said, trying to catch his gaze by leaning forward. She patted his head. “I think it would be good for you to open up a little to the others. I’m sorry if today was embarrassing for you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She continued to sit there until she finally let go, sighing as she headed off. She would probably say to the other staff members that she didn’t know what to do with him... It was something he heard her say before.

Terra kicked some rocks that were peacefully laying there in front of him. When he got bored of waiting for anyone else to talk to him, he scanned the perimeter for the man who would pass by.

Every day this week it seemed, there was a peculiar man wearing a white robe who walked by the park during recess. He definitely dressed funny. All the kids spoke to themselves about why this stupid-looking man was dressed that way and wondered what he was doing. Some of the kids said he was a homeless loony. Others said he might be a wizard.

If anything, the man was nice. He always smiled and waved at the children who would catch him walking by.

But he didn’t come today. Terra skipped over to the tree right next to the bench. If he climbed it, he would be able to see a bit further down the streets that weren’t blocked by any of the dull skyscrapers. Maybe he could see which of the kids were cheaters.

Except he couldn’t reach the lowest branch.

A man’s voice behind him spoke. “That’s a mighty tall tree for you, isn’t it?”

He turned and found himself facing the funnily-dressed man. Up this close, he was certainly tall, and Terra noticed a deep, dark scar across his face. Maybe he was a bad guy. He was a stranger after all, and all of the adults thought that strangers kidnapped children.

But how could he know which ones he should talk to and which ones he shouldn’t? Miss Quistis also wanted him to open up to others. Maybe this man was a mighty warrior and was really cool. Who else had scars like that?

“Mister, why do you have a scar on your face?” Terra asked.

The man chuckled and touched his cheek, then pointed to the bandage on the little boy’s face. “You seem to have one, too.”

“Well Kain and Cecil were fighting over who was going to be captain and they are supposed to be friends,” Terra said with multiple breaths as he seamlessly went through each word, smoothing his r’s so they sounded like w’s. “The rules say that no one is allowed to fight, so I told them that they were stupid and breaking the rules, but because they are older, they pushed me and kicked me. Nobody helped me neither. They don’t listen when the grown-ups say that you should take care of your friends.”

The man laughed through his nose, and kneeled behind the tree to meet Terra face-to-face. “I also fought with a dear friend of mine. That is how I got this scar. He was supposed to be like my older brother, and what hurt worse than the scar was losing someone like him from my life.”

“You should tell him he’s being dumb.”

The man laughed out loud. “You obviously care very much about the deeper bonds that friends have the ability to create.”

“I guess so.” He rubbed his arm and rocked his hips side-to-side. “I wish friends could stay friends forever. If I had friends, I would make them feel safe.”

“What’s your name, son?”

“Terra.”

“Hello, Terra. My name is Eraqus.”

“Era- um...”

“It’s alright, I couldn’t tell you how my mother came up with that name.” The man smiled. “I think you have a strong heart, Terra, and that makes you special. Can you keep a secret?”

No one had ever included him in any of those coveted secrets before, where groups of kids would share a connection that no one else was allowed to enter. You had to be good enough to be part of one.

“I can!”

“Well, don’t tell anyone, but I can cast magic.”

Terra’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped. “You’re a wizard.”

The man laughed, his teeth showing behind his bushy mustache. “Not quite. But I help people with my magic.”

“So you’re a hero?”

“Something like that. Are you happy here, Terra?”

He remembered where he was, standing by a tree in a tiny park surrounded by tall buildings, where the grass was the only proof of color in the miles around him. The other children were still playing kickball, and Miss Quistis was tending to a little girl who had fallen over.

“Miss Quistis is nice,” he said. “She takes care of us, and she makes us good food when she cooks. She plays with us, too.”

“Well, I am starting a school to teach my craft of magic to very special children, like yourself. You will be able to help people. Would you like to be my student?”

Terra had always wondered if he would ever see the day when he would leave. He was told only good children who behaved well would get adopted. He saw many children leave, and the friends they left behind were sad to see them gone. Still, the adults told him that children with parents were loved. That they had what was called a home to go to every night, and they got lots of presents for their birthdays. It was always better to have parents.

“Does that mean I’ll get adopted?” Terra asked, his voice quiet.

Eraqus smiled and ruffled through the boy’s hair. “Yes, it does.”

Terra stared for a moment, his deep blue eyes wide. Most children would be jumping with joy, but this was a surprise and most likely a dream. He nodded a little, half-believing that today was finally the day.

“You’ll be my eyes. Is anyone looking this way?” Eraqus said.

Terra quickly glanced around the tree. The kids were busy with their game. Miss Quistis was holding the hand of the little girl, who was now crying. She was trying to catch the attention of one of the other children who might have accidentally pushed the girl over.

“Nope!”

“Then let me show you what I can do.” Eraqus raised his hand, and in swirls of light which felt warm in the air, what looked like a giant key appeared, surrounded by sparkles. He then positioned the hilt toward Terra, and spoke words of initiation as though it was a spell, none of which Terra understood.

But that key was definitely magical, and it was definitely special. When prompted, he touched it. Then it disappeared.

“You’ll be able to able cast magic as long as you are able to keep this a secret. You don’t want that to wear off, do you?“

Terra giggled. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

“Good, I’m counting on you.”

Eraqus ruffled through Terra’s hair one more time before getting up and crossing the park to where Miss Quistis was standing. The other children took notice and all gathered together to stare at him. Terra followed close by, and Eraqus soon introduced himself and expressed his interest in the adoption, and Miss Quistis gestured for Terra to come at her side. She placed her hand gently over his head and told the other kids to allow him to play with them.

The two adults were left talking among themselves. Terra had heard it before countless times with other possible candidates who were initially interested in him, and knew exactly what she would be saying to Eraqus.

That there would be extensive background checks. That Terra lacked a little bit of discipline. That Eraqus would need to visit him multiple times so that they can be observed to see if they got along, and if the boy felt safe.

But he was determined to keep the magic key the most secretive secret ever. He was determined to make sure that he could earn this new home. Some of the other kids sneered that such a weird man would be interested in such a weird kid. But that didn’t matter anymore. He had what it took to be a good student and he was going to get a father. Soon, he would leave this place as the happiest child in existence, even if none of the other kids cared if he left.

“How old were you when you met him?” Riku walks alongside him while fiddling with a twig, their feet digging deep into the sand as the ocean waves gently swayed into the beach. Sora and Kairi are far ahead of them, engaged in their own conversation.

“Six.” There is the tiniest of smiles on Terra’s face, and he adjust Aqua’s Keyblade which is now strapped across his back. The morning is bright, and while it is early the atmosphere is incredibly humid, making the temperature seem hotter than it should be.

Riku chuckles and tosses the twig into the sand. “I was about the same age when you came here and changed my whole life.” There is a teasing kind of sneer to his tone, as if he is half-way embarrassed to admit it.

“I remember a little boy who wanted the power and strength necessary to protect what mattered to him. Like his friends.” Terra sees the dock ahead, where he fatefully landed in this world many years ago. “I noticed there was something about you, some strong light.”

“Really?” Riku doesn’t sound prideful, just surprised. Despite being a Master, it’s clear that he keeps a sense of humility when it comes to deeply personal assessments. “You saw, what, light shining out of me or something?”

“No, it was a sensation. I did see... maybe a vision of you as older? I knew on some level that you were meant to have the Keyblade, so I performed the ceremony.”

“Is that normal for you? Visions?”

Terra chuckles. It isn’t like he often speaks about them, even to Aqua. “It happens rarely, but it happens.” He pauses for a moment as he sways his arms back and forth. “It was my intention to visit you several times so that I could train you, actually.”

“I would have liked that, it’s a shame.”

Yes it is. Terra has always wished that he can give the same kind of care and attention to another child out there in need of some magic and hope. To be a teacher and raise a family, just like how his Master has saved all three of them. It shouldn’t have been that Riku was left alone all those years.

His shoulders are tense and he shakes off his nerves with a sharp breath. “You know, traditionally only a Master can do the bequeathing ceremony.”

The two of them stop just under the dock and Riku places his hands on his hips. “Huh, that certainly says a lot about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe you have what it takes to be a Master.” He shrugs his shoulders. “After everything you’ve been through and seeing the way you fight, I don’t really think I can see you as anything else.”

Terra smiles for a little bit, twisting his lips and bowing his head as he tries to control his reaction to such an undeserved compliment, wondering what Master Eraqus would think.

Riku nods, as if to stand behind his statement.

“Hey,” Sora calls out to them from afar, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Terra, what’s taking you so long? C’mon, the cave is right here.”

Riku leans over and lets out a mock-contemptuous snort. “Look at him, calling just your name. You might as well stand here all by yourself.” He walks ahead anyway, leading Terra’s way to the cave where a mysterious door has allegedly opened the first time these kids were sent off to an adventure.

“Riku,” Terra says as they get closer, “do you really think that Sora’s theory will work?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been there twice, and it’s like...” Riku stops and turns to face his predecessor. “Listen, if I saw her there, I would have stayed. Apparently the reason why she’s still there was to make sure I got out. But I would have helped her if I knew. I just need you to know that.”

Terra tries to control his breathing and makes a conscious attempt to relax his jaw and let go of the clenching in his fists. “It’s okay,” he says softly, although it’s forced. “That’s something Aqua would do.”

Riku nods sharply and continues on his way. “Anyway, the Door to Darkness doesn’t let any light out. Both of the times I got out, I felt this sense of certainty that I was going to be okay. But I had help and I wasn’t alone, so I do agree that she needs another person to open that Door to Light for her.” He waves his arms in exasperation and let them slap his sides as they fall. “Other than Sora’s theory, I just don’t have any other plausible explanation.”

“What about getting there?”

Riku stops again and inhales slowly. “You let a world fall to darkness and ride it all the way down.”

Terra’s lips tighten at the thought. The job of a Keyblade wielder should be to completely prevent such a scenario. “But we can’t just let that happen.”

Riku nods but continues onward. “Hence the predicament.”

They arrive to where Sora and Kairi wait for them. The cave is hidden by large plants, but when Terra looks hard enough, he can see the opening. He ducks at the entrance, and it opens up as he continues inside. It is quite small, and the air is much cooler than it is outside. There are carvings all along the rocky walls that look like they have been done by small children; close to the ground is a carving of one child giving another a star. Furthest from the entrance is a wooden wall, and he traces his fingers against the smooth surface.

“We have no idea why this wall is even here,” Sora says behind him. “But it actually opened, and Ansem walked through it.”

“You know,” Riku says, “I have seen it open before that night.”

Terra holds his chin as he thinks. “Can you tell me more about what happened when this world fell?”

The three self-taught Keyblade wielders behind him stay quiet and he turns to face them. Riku’s face is completely tense and he doesn’t have the discipline to relax it. Sora scratches his head and looks down on the ground. Kairi fumbles with her hands.

“You know, I don’t remember a single thing from that night,” she says.

“Really?” Sora stops rubbing his hair but keeps his hand in place. “It happened really fast. The sky was dark and cloudy, and there were Heartless everywhere. And... it was just so fast. It was like-”

“It was like the entire world just collapsed on itself and the loose pieces were being blown apart,” Riku says. His tone is stable but stern, as though he is reciting lines that he doesn’t want to perform.

Terra nods slowly, his knuckles tense. “What happened to the rest of the people here?”

Riku sways side to side, his arms crossed. “I think those who aren’t Keyblade wielders... or maybe those that do not possess or have not come across a strong source of light, just fade away into the darkness. They don’t die, exactly, but they cease to exist as long as their world stays trapped.”

So if you don’t disappear, you just consciously suffer the entire way. Oh, Aqua...

Sora holds a fist to his cheek, deep in thought. “But doesn’t that mean they are fine once the world is restored?”

“Well,” Kairi presses her fingers together as she stares at them. “It isn’t consequence-free, exactly. Many of the people here had recurring nightmares for a couple of months, and none of the doctors understood why. Nobody remembers anything about that night, and it just became another one of those mysterious, creepy legends the kids still toss a bunch of conspiracy theories over.”

"And that’s only if a world is restored,” Riku says. Sora stays silent.

Terra presses his palm against the wood. “So, should we assume that there are signs a world will fall before it does? Like a door opening when it shouldn’t exist?”

Riku clears his throat as he finds some of the quiet bravado he normally carries. “You can actually see that a world’s light will start to flicker and fade, but that doesn’t mean that it will fall. It can just mean there are a multitude of Heartless overwhelming it.” He pauses for a brief moment. “I know a couple of sky pirates who do a lot of traveling. One of them isn’t human and she has a sixth sense for this sort of thing, but she isn’t right all the time. Either way, we’ve never just let Heartless take over.”

“And you shouldn’t.” Terra says this so quietly that he isn’t sure if the others heard him.

He caresses the wood. Perhaps he can create a door to the other side here. There is no sickly, hot energy through the wall - no sign of darkness. It’s just wood. False hope for sure, but he has nothing else.

He breathes deeply and summons his Keyblade. He can feel the others tense up as he does this, anxious to see what tricks he has up his sleeve. He holds the tip of the Keyblade up against the wall... but he is fooling himself.

He drops his Keyblade and sighs. Two years too late to try. “If there was a world beyond this wall, it doesn’t exist anymore.”

Sora groans behind him. “I was really hoping this would work. I’m sorry it didn’t.”

“It’s fine. It’s good we are discussing these kinds of ideas.” Still, just another damn dead end.

“Well, if one plan doesn’t work, we’ll come up with another.” Sora slams his fist into his palm, a reassuring and confident smile on his face.

False hope has no meaning with Sora. Terra cannot keep a frown, and it’s the same feeling as being a child, where he can imagine a happy future with his closest friends. The amount of faith he has is outstanding.

“Sora,” Terra begins, “how can you be so sure?” He can feel a smile on his own face, which doesn’t make sense. He really should dismiss such determination for his own sake.

“I’m not sure. But I won’t believe that it’s necessary to sacrifice anybody to save her.” Sora is approaching this seriously, but there is no way to remove the sound of hope from the tone of his voice. “You’ll never give up looking for her, Terra, so something’s gotta give eventually. I think it’s just a matter of time before we can figure out what will actually work for us.”

“Well,” Riku says, “if you do get any more ideas, Sora, just tell me first before you do anything. Okay?”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

Kairi snorts and Riku rolls his eyes as he walks out of the cave.

Somehow, it is warmer outside. The others swap memories they have shared growing up here. Curiously, Riku is the one to remember the least, despite being older. This fact doesn’t seem to deter Sora’s attitude towards his oldest friend, however, since there are other memories to talk about. With the three of them engaged in their shared experiences, Terra wishes that he will get the same time to delve this deep into nostalgia with Aqua and Ventus one day. Sooner is preferable than later.

They are so involved, in fact, that they don’t notice when Terra gradually moves away towards the ocean. The breeze blowing from that direction is welcome, although it’s nothing like the crisp, dry wind from the mountains, which will slice if it gets cold enough.

Terra takes off his shoes and socks, and walks through the shallow water, allowing his flowing pants to get wet. His feet sink into the wet sand with every wave, and it’s like a million sensations in one: the coolness of the water gushing in with such a force, the prickly, soft feeling of the sand in between his toes.

It hasn’t been long since he has woken up. Yet, this is the first time he is really realizing that he can feel again. He has been so preoccupied with finding them that he forgets he is alive. But if anyone is deserving of this same feeling, it’s Aqua.

I wish she could hear the ocean. I’ll have to take her here immediately after she’s free.

Terra loses himself in the sound of the water. If he fell to darkness to find her without a better plan, that will leave him trapped as well, but at least he will be with her. It will make it easier on the both of them to stay together. Maybe they can wait for the others to come get them, and he’ll be there to keep her chin up.

But I can’t just let a world fall and let others suffer like that. I wonder if somehow, if I find a door that shouldn’t exist, I can create an opening that way. How did she even get down there in the first place?

Sacrifice. Darkness. The willingness to give up to be with her. Terrible thoughts to have on such a nice morning when he is supposed to take it easy today.

The bright morning sun shines on the water, and it’s blinding if he stares at its reflection. But it doesn’t last long. The waves shift and contort, and it is now sunset. Kairi’s laughter from afar fades away. What is left is the sound of crying.

The sunset left the ocean looking dark as he walked down the beach. Ahead of him was a girl slumped over, with short pink hair and wearing an orange tunic, someone he recognized. She was crying into her hands. The waves hit her shoes, but she paid them no mind.

Her sitting there, crying all by herself, was unsightly. It was best to avoid her. But unless he turned around and took a lap around the entire island, there was no way to. Perhaps she wouldn’t notice him passing by...

She sprung up and wiped her eyes and nose. “Norty, I didn’t hear you coming. How are you?” All of her words were smothered with sniffles.

“Hello, Lenna.” His voice was polite as though he didn’t witness anything. “It’s been a pleasant walk. On such a pleasant day.” It sounded contemptuous, almost to the brink of obvious sarcasm, but she never noticed.

“I’m glad someone is having a good day.” She struggled to contain her tears. “If the fates can just use my pain and make it pleasant for someone else, that would make it more meaningful.” She was breathing heavily.

She was inviting him to listen to said pain. “Well, it sounds like your prayers have been answered. I hope the rest of your evening bodes well.” He started to walk away.

Lenna reached out to him, her hand hovering in the air. “It’s just been so hard, without Bubbles.”

A slow inhale, but he made sure that it was inaudible. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and relaxed all of his muscles. Maybe he could get away with being a little truthful. “Yes, you being without your cat is truly a misery.”

“Yes. She was family, Bubbles.” Another sob. She was going to start wailing again.

“Yes.” He relaxed his muscles again. If he didn’t acknowledge the cat, then Lenna would surely start getting obnoxious. “Poor Bubbles.” The name sounded awkward and spiteful coming out of his lips. She didn’t notice.

“I just don’t know what to do. Bubbles was always there to sit on my lap when I was doing my homework. She slept with me. She always meowed when I came home from school.” The sobs were getting heavier. “Now, it’s just so quiet.”

This world was so small that the worst of this girl’s problems was the loss of something replaceable. “Perhaps another cat might be noisier?”

She was shocked into silence, her sobs stammering. “Excuse me?”

“I’m giving you a proposal. A solution to your problem. Then you can stop mewling.”

“But... she was family.”

“It was a cat.”

Lenna erupted into tears, the sound giving him a headache. She was so loud, it caught the attention of the nearby teenager, and leading them was a girl with long purple hair that reached down to her waist. She wore a bright blue shirt and a black beanie on her head.

“Lenna,” she said as she comforted her. “What happened?”

Lenna started to talk but she was completely incomprehensible through her sobbing. Her older sister, though, understood her perfectly.

“You made my sister cry, rich boy?” She shoved his shoulder. “Who do you think you are?”

“Faris, it’s good to see you, too.” Xehanort attempted to keep himself calm. This was just too annoying. “I was merely trying to get your sister to come to a more logical conclusion. To ease her personal grievances.”

“I don’t care for your fancy talk, so you better talk to me straight. What did you say to her?”

Lenna started to talk in her gibberish again, and Faris’ eyes flashed with anger.

“Our cat was family, and she was the most important thing to Lenna,” she said as she clenched her fists. “Something’s seriously wrong with you, Nort.”

Patience was low. “She was given advice, and she refused it. There could be so much more meaning to her life, and she doesn’t have the interest nor the ability to see it.”

Faris had nothing to say. She swung her arm and punched him squarely in the jaw.

Evening becomes morning again. The pain on his jawline quickly fades away.

The others are sparring, with Sora and Riku taking pot shots so that Kairi can practice dodging and blocking them. Clearly she does best with handling attacks from afar and with magical offenses, perhaps because of the amount of time she has spent studying with Lea. But she staggers when either of the boys come close and hit her directly. Terra makes a mental note that he has to give her tips on how to maintain her core energy and stance when she gets nervous. Something to bring up when he has the chance to later.

Right now, however, something is off. Terra has been able to learn how to sense when Xehanort’s presence is getting stronger. It’s like having another person rest their head on his shoulder, watching him that closely. The headaches start at his forehead, and then it trickles so it feels as though his hair is being pulled out. But this time, there is nothing.

This memory isn’t like the others. He likes to show off, or he tries to provoke me. But this was almost embarrassing to watch. I must have seen this vision without his involvement and... did he not notice this?

Terra looks down on his hands and breathes deeply. I know he can see what I can physically see. He can hear what I hear, and he can feel my strong emotions. But if this is a vision I had on my own... can he not see what’s in my mind?

He closes his hands and eyes and relaxes. Lenna. Faris. No pain. He thinks of Lenna again. How hard she was crying when she lost her cat. How insensitive he was to her.

Even as a teenager, all he did was hurt people. And because I was too weak to stop him, he’s done worse to them.

He shudders. This truth is hard to swallow and it nearly sickens him. I can’t call myself a Keyblade wielder if I can’t help others and heal their pain. That is the biggest reason why I delved into this calling. I had no meaning until Master gave it to me.

It’s time to get to the bottom of this.

He jogs through the sand and approaches the others. “Have any of you heard of two people living in this world named Lenna and Faris?” A headache starts to form like a gut reaction to his words, confirming his suspicions.

Sora is the first to recall his Keyblade. “Lenna and Faris? That makes me think of those old ladies who played checkers on the side of that road we used to take to go to school.”

“Hmm.” Riku smirks. “Old-fashioned names, then.”

“Would they help us find Aqua or something?” Kairi asks, her tone a bit skeptical, as if she isn’t sure why two random people from a tiny island would be of any use.

“No.” Terra realizes his answer is too short, but this is strange to open up about. “I... I’ve never met them actually, but I have to make amends to them.”

The three of them give him undeniable expressions of confusion, with Sora in particular narrowing his eyes and wrinkling his nose. “That’s weird. It’s like this came out of nowhere-”

A pregnant pause. It doesn’t come out of nowhere, and all of them know it. Terra cringes as he sees them realize this, hoping that none of them are wondering if these pseudo-psychic episodes will become more frequent or more erratic. He doesn’t know what to say. I hope they don’t consider me more dangerous now.

Sora seems the most uncomfortable about it, darting his eyes around the sand and displaying a rare seriousness that simply doesn’t fit him. He quickly glances to both of his friends to see if he can read them. Then, his eyes light up and a smile stretches from ear to ear.

“It’s a strange request, for sure. We just don’t understand what’s possessing you.”

Riku bursts into laughter, the kind of tear-jerking hysteria that would leave anyone else unable to think - Terra has never seen this in him before. Kairi elbows Sora in the ribs, her eyes wide with disbelief. The latter is too busy in his own bout of laughter to care.

Terra scoffs slowly and clenches his teeth a little, although he doesn’t deny to himself that he’s starting to chuckle as well. Ven would say something this dumb.

“And here I thought you were mature,” Terra says as he firmly ruffles through Sora’s incredibly thick hair.

“I am mature.” Sora rubs his nose and attempts to fix his hairdo.

“Why these specific women, though?” Riku regains his composure and returns to his confident posture with one hand on his hip, as if he hasn’t been laughing this entire time. “What do they have to do with anything?”

There is no way to answer this without being direct. Terra crosses his arms and forces himself to relax. “Xehanort is from here.”

The shock is so great that Riku slowly drops the hand that before was so proud to be resting on his hip. It makes sense, though. Xehanort once called the Land of Departure his home and didn’t care that it got destroyed, either.

Kairi leans forward. “So you’re telling us that we can meet people who grew up with him?“ She gasps and holds a hand to her mouth. “I wonder what he was like as a kid.”

Not much different.

“Would he have gone to the same school as us?” Sora asks out loud. “What am I saying, of course he would have. There is only one.” He fidgets with excitement. “We’ve got to find these ladies.”

Sora and Kairi look over to Riku as if they need his permission to go. Riku takes his time to answer, enough for Terra to wonder if he is stalling on purpose to make them feel anticipation. “I like the idea. We should search for them.”

“I knew it was a good idea to come here. Let’s go.” Sora does an about-face and leaves, with Riku following closely behind. Terra starts to follow them, but notices that Kairi is still standing there, her hands behind her with a contemptuous smile on her face.

He lifts his shoulder as if to ask her what’s wrong, when Sora calls out from behind him. “Hey, what gives?”

“What gives is that you are going the wrong direction.” She creates finger-guns and points in the opposite way, her tone dramatically sarcastic. “I hid a boat by the beach on the other side for when we come back.” She waves her arms around. “I was just seeing how long it would take you guys to notice that I wasn’t around. Thanks, Terra, for waiting for me.”

Riku slowly closes his eyes as if he is guilty of something, while Sora’s mouth hangs open. “Wait, Kairi-”

“Too late.” She grabs Terra by the wrist and pulls him in the correct direction. “I don’t want either of you two losers to sit next to me.”

The main island is larger, filled with homes and small facilities and markets. One side of it features a beach while the other is raised, the ocean water hitting the rocky terrain that make up the cliff side there.

But it’s still very small, with an endless ocean surrounding the town that stretches beyond the horizon. Such a tiny world means that the setting is intimate and safe. All of the inhabitants know each other - a feature that Sora doesn’t think matters. Everyone apparently knows that the three of them have left to visit other worlds, so who cares if they brought in a stranger?

Terra brushes off his own concerns, not the least of which is the part where he simply has to accept that times have changed. Some worlds have been exposed to the outside, much like how Radiant Garden has, and there is nothing that can be done to undo that. Master Eraqus would grow a headache over this.

The news that a stranger has visited the island spread like wildfire. Friends from their school flock around him. Kairi’s friends in particular demand why she is keeping a hottie like him all to herself. It takes a considerable amount of effort to keep anyone from touching Aqua’s Keyblade.

So they decide that it’s best Terra leaves the town altogether. He takes this opportunity to give more lessons to Kairi as they spar among some isolated trees, while Sora and Riku track down Lenna and Faris’ whereabouts.

They take a break. Kairi stays quiet, probably mulling over his advice. They sit together atop a hill, where they can view the town - seeing it from here really emphasizes the tiny size of it. The ocean surrounding him might as well be an empty desert.

Or perhaps there is world down in its depths that hasn’t been discovered yet. There has to be something more than just this town.

“Do you think I have what it takes to be any good?” he hears Kairi say next to him.

“Of course you do.” Being a Princess of Heart and all, if you have to protect yourself, so be it. “Why do you ask?“

She sighs forcefully. “Sometimes I don’t think Riku and Sora believe I can do anything for myself. They always leave me behind. And I mean, I get it. I’m not experienced like they are, but they continue to treat me the same. I’m not sure they trust me at all.”

“I think they trust you well enough. They left you alone with me after all.” A part of him tenses up.

“They left me with you because they trust you.”

“I still don’t think it’s about you.”

It’s very much like dealing with Ventus. He always asked the two of them if he could join along. Begging to be included. Begging to explore other worlds. Aqua being the one to be over-protective and to send him off. Terra being the one to encourage Ventus to spread out.

Except that one time in Radiant Garden.

“Maybe they’re afraid they’ll fail to protect you,” he says. “It’s not a failure that’s easy to accept, you know.”

Kairi takes a moment of silence. “Yeah but, why does that mean that I can’t protect them when I want to?”

Terra chuckles. How many times have Aqua and I competed over this very same issue?

“I’m sure they bump heads over which one of them should be protected as well. It’s a never-ending argument, and truthfully it’s a give and take.” He smiles at her. “When the time is right, you’ll just have to step it up when they inevitably stumble.”

She grins to herself. She still has a long way to go, but she’s doing alright with fighting.

He feels the wind blowing through his hair. Despite that the town is not too far, it’s quiet enough. The smell of the ocean is everywhere.

“It must get real dark here at night,” he says. “I’m sure you can see the stars very clearly.”

“The sky gets absolutely covered with them. You like the stars?”

“Yeah. It was our favorite past time, to go stargazing together.”

She excitedly claps her hands. “Then you have to bring them here when you find them.”

He smirks. “I will.”

It is a warming thought, just being able to bring the stars back to them. Not like being on their mountains exactly, but great enough.

In the distance, nearer the cliffside, stands a solitary house that juts out far from the town. It’s a bit larger than the other homes, and something about it makes his stomach lurch. He attempts to ask her about it when Sora and Riku approach them from behind some trees.

“Did you find them?” Kairi stands up quickly.

“Yeah.” Riku scratches his head and doesn’t meet her gaze. “They are in the cemetery, out on the eastern cliff side.”

The three of them eye Terra. This doesn’t change a thing.

“Okay,” Terra says, “I’ll need a cat statue. You know, one of those outdoor types that you put in the dirt?” He reaches in his pockets. “I can give you the munny for it. I’ll also need pink and purple flowers.”

Kairi raises her hand. “I know where you can pluck those, actually.”

“Why don’t I go with you to get the flowers, Terra?” Sora asks.

“It was my idea,” she says.

“But I didn’t get to spend any time with him,” Sora whines.

She places her hands on her hips and leans forward. “Excuse me, but I’d like to have a private conversation with him.”

That shuts him up. The two boys leave with some of Terra’s munny, while he and Kairi walk south through some palm trees.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asks her.

“Oh nothing, actually. I’m still mad at the two of them.”

It isn’t a far walk, and they reach a small grassy field full of beautiful flowers, all of different colors. The sub-tropical weather really encourages such foliage. It’s easy to pick out the ones he wants, considering that each color seems to enjoy the company of its own.

“So you grew up with Aqua and Ventus?” she asks as they crouch over the flowers they are collecting.

“Ven’s the little brother I’ve always wanted.” A smile forms on his face. Thinking about Ventus always comforts him in a way, perhaps because there is less guilt involved. He remembers how delighted he was when Ventus woke up, and when Ventus started to follow him around like a puppy after it’s been rescued from starving.

He continues. “Aqua and I go way back. She and I were the ones who really grew up together. I don’t think I ever saw her as my sister. She’s my partner really. My sparring partner, my mission partner... she’s my best friend.”

“She must be really special to you, then.”

“Of course she is.” He notices a peculiar smile on Kairi’s face. She immediately tries to roll her lips to erase that look.

What is making him to be so open about feelings?

Maybe it just isn’t worth keeping them hidden anymore, not after what I went through. Or maybe it’s something else. There’s something about Kairi that makes me feel like I’ve met her before.

They continue to gather flowers in silence, although Kairi is still smiling to herself. She has the bouquet of purple, while he finishes a thick bundle of pink.

Just in time, Sora and Riku join them. The former is holding two white ribbons to tie the bundles together, while the latter carries a sizable statue depicting a cat sitting down with its tail wrapped around its body. The plan so far is going perfectly - although Riku has this comically sour look on his face.

“We were being followed and nagged by Tidus and Wakka,” Riku says when asked what’s wrong. He sets the statue down. “And Sora got the great idea to tell them that the cat statue was a gift for his mom.”

Sora deviously smiles, stretching from ear to ear. “It worked didn’t it?” He tries to suppress a laugh.

“Only because you told them that I’ve always had a crush on her.”

Kairi bursts into hysteria and Riku reminds her that it isn’t funny. She gives him tiny nods while doing her best not to continue laughing and then hugs him. This prompts Sora to hug the both of them from behind, so that Riku is pinned between their affections. His arms slack and he gives Terra a timid glare, pleading to be freed.

Terra picks up the statue. “I appreciate everything you do for me, Riku.”

The cemetery is quite possibly the noisiest area on the island.

The wind is blowing harder here since it’s on higher ground, and the water is slamming against the rocks below. It’s not the largest graveyard that he’s seen, a testament to the size of the population on this island. Most of the gravestones here are humble. Plaques are placed specifically for Lenna and Faris, who both passed away a few years ago and were buried next to each other. Weeds are overgrowing on them, and Terra rips them out and dusts off the falling dirt with his hands. Sora gives him a spade, and with it he digs a small hole by Lenna’s plaque to fit the cat statue.

When he’s done, he sets pink flowers down for Lenna, and purple ones for Faris.

Sora, Riku and Kairi stand behind him, staying quiet. He kneels in front of their graves, taking a short moment to meditate. Death isn’t the sort of thing that Keyblade wielders deal with often, although they are taught that it is a natural part of life that shouldn’t be hated. It isn’t darkness, despite the pain it causes. Despite that it can compel someone to abhor it.

One day, the light of Master Eraqus would have faded anyway. Terra has always assumed that the three of them would create a small, private ceremony in the mountains to celebrate his life when it should happen. To leave his Keyblade resting on the top of a summit. But his death didn’t have to happen the way it did.

I hope the both of you lived happy lives, fulfilled in the way you wanted them to. I’m sorry for the pain he caused you. I swear, on this day and every day moving forward, I will undo what he has done. I will make amends for his existence.

Terra breathes and touches their plaques before getting up. On this location, the solitary house is seems closer. It sits by itself, and Terra notices now that some of the windows are boarded up and there are vines growing up along the outer walls. There is that nauseating feeling in his stomach again.

“What can you guys tell me about that house?” He points to it.

“It’s one of the few urban legends around here,” Sora says, putting his arms behind his head. “Some of the people think it’s haunted.”

“Why is that?”

“No one has been able to get inside. They can’t break in, and they can’t unlock it.”

Riku crosses his arms and thinks for a second. “If I remember correctly, that house belonged to an old couple. They died a long, long time ago. The husband was involved in most of the investments that built the homes and buildings here. The wife I think was a nurse, maybe?”

A headache swells, and the roots of his hair sting. “It’s his. He grew up there.”

“No way!” Sora nearly throws himself forward. “We’ve got to check it out.”

Riku scoffs. “Of course his house would be creepy.”

The house has two stories, which is quite rare to see on the island. It is surrounded by a small, overgrown garden, contained by a barrier of coral rocks that are supposed to act like a fence. All of the windows on the first floor have wooden boards covering them.

Riku approaches the front door, and attempts to turn the knob. It doesn’t open. He kicks it, and an invisible force blocks the attempt. He summons his Keyblade, but it doesn’t unlock it.

“I’m going to assume that the windows are going to be the same and save myself the trouble,” he says.

Kairi has her hands in a prayer stance in front of her. “But who would put a spell on this house?”

Riku’s fists are clenched together. “This implies that Xehanort has visited after he left. Maybe to seal off his old home... or for other things.”

They all hear an incredibly loud sigh. Sora is pouting, like a child in dire need of candy. “How are we going to open it then?”

The headache is more painful now, and Terra shivers for a bit. There is a slight disgust to knowing the kinds of information that are seamlessly appearing in his consciousness. Things he shouldn’t know, but are there.

“You just need the right key,” he says. He counts the rocks on the left side of the door. Seven of them. He lifts it, and under it is a simple house key. The perfect key to unlock this door.

Sunlight seeps through the cracks of the wooden boards covering the window, and Terra leaves the door open to allow more. The house is quaint, with plenty of decorative art and plates lining the pastel pink walls. In the center is a family-sized dining room table, covered in an off-white cloth. A pot of withered flowers sits in the middle. An upright piano is left alone next to a window that overlooks the ocean, and beyond that is a small kitchen, with some incredibly outdated appliances such as a fire stove.

In all senses, it’s as though time has stopped in this house.

“That is definitely him,” Riku says.

On the far wall opposite the piano, alongside some shelves, are family photos. They are all sepia-toned, and every single one of them is a photo of Xehanort throughout his young life. As a baby. As a toddler. One of the bigger portraits is himself as a teen, his round eyes looking straight at the camera. It’s impossible to tell what he was thinking when it was taken.

Riku takes his time to study each photo. “So the stories I have heard about a kid who left this world has always been about him.”

Kairi grabs two thick photo albums from a shelf nearby and brings them to the table. “Looks like there’s more here.”

She gives the smaller one to Sora. He sifts through it while holding it close to him, looking bewildered.

“Here is one of him as a baby... can you just imagine Xehanort as a cute, chubby baby?” He shudders. “Look at this! Here is one of him laughing.”

Riku and Terra look over his shoulder. A picture of a teenage Xehanort laughing as he is facing someone that isn’t in the shot. The laugh seems genuine, his eyes squinting. Other pictures show him on a bicycle with classmates. At a birthday party. One shows him dressed nicely, his arm locked with a girl in a pretty dress, like he is taking a date to a school dance. Not a single one depicts him as any older.

“I wonder what he was laughing about,” Sora says.

I wonder if it was sincere.

“Oh guys, here are letters his mother wrote to him. This must have been after he left,” Kairi says, reaching the end of the photo album she’s looking through, where a short stack of handwritten letters have been tucked away.

Terra walks over to the piano as she reads through them, listening closely to a relic left behind by someone who no longer walks:

“My dearest son, I sincerely hope you retrieve this letter. I have sent several to you and I suppose that they haven’t reached you. I know your teacher has said that it was completely possible for us to keep in touch, and has given me the instructions to do so. I pray that you are safe and happy in your newfound school and residence. I miss the sound of you playing the piano very dearly. The emptiness and silence left behind by your absence is unbearable, but it helps to ease the pain when I remember that you are following your dreams. My beloved son, I would love to hear about what you are studying, if you have been making friends, and if you are having the adventures you deserve to have. I just want to hear your voice. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to see how handsome you have grown to be. Be safe, and I love you, Your worried mother.”

He hears her shuffling through more letters behind him as he eyes the keys on the piano, dusty from neglect.

“They’re all alike,” she says. “She’s been dying to hear from him.”

Riku clears his throat. “I think we should definitely visit our moms today.”

Terra strums some keys in succession, gently but confidently enough that there is no way anyone can tell he is a beginner at it. He continues to strum in higher octaves, practicing arpeggios -

Arpeggios? I shouldn’t know that word.

“You play the piano?” Sora asks from behind him.

Terra turns quickly and rubs his fingers against his palm, his hand clammy. His head is pounding, and for a moment he nearly says yes.

“No, I don’t.” He rubs his palms against his pants, and a knowledge of musical theory starts to flood his mind. He has never studied music.

I’m not sure where I end and where he starts. If we’re exchanging information like this, does that mean that I’m being swallowed up by him?

“Then you must be a natural,” Sora says with a smile, not noticing his mood. “You know, I wonder if he still has stuff here, like in his room.” His eyes widen as he stares off into space. “Do you think he has a diary?”

Sora and Riku both stare intensely at each other, as though a golden idea has been blessed upon them. Sora drops the photo album, and races up the stairs, Riku and Kairi following behind.

Terra lingers for a moment by the piano, caressing his sweaty forehead.

I am in control. I’m in control.

He opens Tifa’s potion and takes a sip before walking up the stairs.

The others are going room by room, but he knows where it is. It is to the right, slightly behind the opening to the stairs. It looks like a normal room for any kid, although the walls are completely blank. There is a bed, a closed closet, a bedside table, a desk for studying, and a dresser. The windows overlook the town ahead. On the dresser is a framed picture of Xehanort, with a couple of bundles of withered flowers.

“I wonder if his mom has been waiting for him to come home all this time,” Kairi says when she enters the room and sees the shrine set up for him.

Sora and Riku check through his desk and dresser, hoping to find some notes or a journal he may have written in. Kairi opens his closet.

“He really liked to dress fancy.” She sifts through vests, button-down shirts, jackets, and leather. She bends down to open up a bookbag, and takes out a texbook. She laughs and lifts it up to show the others. “Our school hasn’t updated any of the books for the last few decades, it seems.”

“Figures,” Sora says as he makes his way to the bedside table. He opens a drawer there and shuffles through it. Not finding anything, he closes it and moves over to where Riku is.

But he was so close. Terra opens that same drawer and moves his hand to feel directly under the surface. The journal is there, taped to the underside.

“You missed it.” He pulls a small, black leather journal and hands it over to Riku, who is closest to him.

Riku flips through some of the pages while Sora hops on top of the bed, and Kairi sits beside him. He reads a passage to himself, his eyebrows wrinkling up towards his crown.

“Sheesh. Listen to this: I grow tired of the mindless queries shared by my peers. I long to meet a worthy companion, anyone out there, that has the power to quench this horrid starvation for knowledge that I am burdened with. I need to leave this forsaken island...”

“I should give him a kick in the face for saying that about our island,” Sora says with a grin. “He’s the same, actually. No wonder he didn’t have any friends.”

“It’s not a wonder why,” Kairi says. She looks as though she has swallowed something disgusting. “Ugh, he had such an awful superiority complex.”

Sora laughs and then consciously changes the expression on his face, as though he is putting on a mask. He contorts his fingers and begins an act, like he is in a theatrical drama. “Denizens of light, answer this. Why do you hate the darkness?”

Riku snorts and lowers the diary. “Surrender. Bow to darkness. Only the darkness can offer to you all of the strength that you will need.”

It isn’t exactly comfortable hearing such words - they are too similar. But it’s true, he hasn’t changed at all. Terra deepens his voice so that it sounds a bit goofy. “Light and darkness, they are a balance - one that must always be maintained.”

“Is that how he justifies all of this?” Riku shakes his head. He flips through more pages of the journal. “They are already balanced. I thought he was smart.”

“Honestly, I don’t really understand what his primary goals were. Not even now.” Terra squeezes a fist and lets it go. No use getting angry, especially since the headache hasn’t faded.

Riku stops at a page and points to it. “The journal isn’t complete, but here’s the last entry: I’ve wondered for some time now whether there were other dimensions tucked away among the stars, hiding vast amounts of information that I want to grasp. These suspicions have been confirmed. A man from somewhere else visited the island today, accompanied by a boy. I came to him with all of my questions, and he said that I have the heart to serve a higher calling: to give others answers. I accepted his challenge. The boy is inquisitive. Friendly, but quick to scrutinize, and comes from a long lineage of protectors. If he is to be my competitor, I believe I can manage and surpass him. My mother will surely resist, but never again will I return here...”

It feels as though Terra’s throat constricts. The air around him becomes thick and he finds it hard to breathe. A boy? The Master. This is a record of the first time they have ever met.

“And then he goes off to ruin everyone’s lives.” Terra fails to keep his tone calm, and the others are shocked by such anger. He lowers his voice. “He had parents and a good home. He had a friend who adored him. And he took it all for granted.”

I’m being stupid. It’s not like he cares about what I think.

It’s too stuffy in that room. He waves his arm to dismiss the others’ concerns and briskly exits.

Down the stairs, he stops by the open photo album Sora left behind. There is a family portrait depicting Xehanort as a child. His father stands behind him, also bearing darker skin and white hair. His mother sits by him and has her arm rested on his shoulder. Terra picks the album up, and studies it. Xehanort’s mother was very pretty, hair long and swept to the side, and it looks like she had her son young.

“He came home,” he says quietly before setting it down.

The high afternoon sun beats down on him outside, and he makes his way to some shade under a cluster of palm trees a few paces away from the house. They bear the star-shaped fruit that Aqua once talked about so long ago. He leans on one of them, and closes his eyes to focus on the fresh air that he’s breathing.

He pulls out his Wayfinder, and meditates on his friends. His mind focuses on Ventus in particular - on all the ordinary days they spent together studying, playing pranks on Aqua, and sparring. As much as he cherishes his time with Aqua and as much as he wants to spend the rest of his waking life with her, the days where Ventus has entered their lives are still the best days. It’s not worth it without the three of them together. He’s sure that she would agree.

Thinking about their separation is saddening, but it’s better than being in that house.

The others approach him as he’s daydreaming. Riku offers the suggestion to get some coconuts, since they’re all thirsty.

“That sounds delicious,” he replies.

“Okay, but I get to stay with Terra this time,” Sora says with a finger lifted up, as if to lecture them.

Riku mumbles just enough for only Terra to hear. “It’s like he’s a puppy around you.”

He and Kairi disappear through the trees, and Sora seems like he just can’t contain his excitement, like his smile is permanently plastered on his face.

Riku’s right. He is like a puppy.

“Let me ask you something, Sora. You can wield two Keyblades at the same time, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know where it comes from. It’s very temporary, and it comes when I need a burst of power. But it doesn’t always work.” Sora places a hand on his heart.

“What does that mean?”

“Sometimes...” His expressions just seem so solemn in comparison when he isn’t happy. “Sometimes it’s like things go dark when I call upon the second Keyblade. Maybe it’s because I need power to do it or it thinks I’m being selfish when I summon it. I don’t know. But it’s very tiring, anyway.”

Terra clenches his jaw. Perhaps it really is dangerous to use Xehanort’s Keyblade. Not that it’s a loss. He tells himself that he is fine with just his own.

Sora leans on one of the trees next to him, eyeing the Wayfinder in his hand. “It’s interesting that it’s the shape of a star,” he says.

Terra holds the Wayfinder higher so that the both of them can look at it. “Aqua made one for each of us after reading about this very island. She said that it symbolized an unbreakable connection, and cast magic on it so that we can always stay close. She said that they’re usually made of shells, and that they resemble the star-shaped fruit on this island.”

“She’s very right about all of that.” Sora points upward to the star-shaped fruit above them. “The paopu fruit does represent an unbreakable connection, but it’s a bit more than that.”

“How so?”

“When you share a paopu fruit with someone, it’s supposed to be like a promise that you make with that person - that your destinies will always intertwine. So it’s like a promise that you’ll be connected in the future.”

Terra eyes the fruit above, wishing to share one with Aqua. It’s as though Sora has read his mind.

“Would you like me to grab you one?” Sora already starts to climb the palm tree, as though he knows the answer is yes.

“Do you have to share one with only one person?”

Sora reaches the top and uses his ankles as grips to keep himself stable. “You mean that you’d share this with someone else who isn’t Aqua?”

Something about that tone seems to suggest that Sora knows, and it’s just the tiniest bit annoying. It’s like listening to Ventus tease him about her. “What are you getting at?”

“How about you stop answering my questions with questions?” Sora inspects one of the fruit and grabs it, a devious grin on his face.

Terra laughs silently. It feels like déja vu, where he and Ventus have this song and dance together every time she is brought up. “How about you mind your own business?”

“Well I think sharing this fruit with her is the perfect idea.”

“You continue about Aqua and I’ll knock you off that tree.”

“You can try.” As though he’ll never fall from it. He leans down to hand Terra the fruit. Then he stretches his reach to grab another.

Terra holds his Wayfinder in his left hand and strokes it. He forgets in that moment that he’s separated from them. It must be a magical quality that Sora has.

However, Sora doesn’t have the grip on that tree that he thinks he has. He grabs the second fruit when he leans too far, and falls off the tree with a yell. He lands on his back, a paopu fruit in one hand and a palm leaf in the other - a failed attempt to break his fall.

“Sora!” Terra runs over and offers his right hand. “You okay?”

Sora groans loudly and grabs his hand. But it isn’t Sora anymore.

Terra is holding Ventus’ hand, and it is Ventus’ voice that replies - that enters his consciousness and makes him realize the truth - as he smiles up at him.

“Thanks, Terra, for looking out for me.”

Terra freezes, shaking a little as he holds Ventus’ hand. It’s Ven. His little brother.

Ventus looks confused. Out of his mouth comes Sora’s voice: “Are you okay?”

He is holding Sora’s hand, who is still on the ground. They have been staring at each other for an undefined amount of time. Ventus has been this close to him this entire time.

Terra starts laughing hysterically, and pulls Sora up to him so they can hug. Sora is taller than Ventus, but he still has to bend down to embrace him. He continues to laugh, and Sora laughs in return.

“This is cool and all, but I’m not sure what this is about,” Sora says.

He cannot say anything - Xehanort will hear. But it’s fine, Ventus is safe. He’s in the safest place he can ever be without Terra or Aqua there to protect him.

“What’s going on here?” Riku’s voice comes from the trees. He and Kairi are each holding two open coconuts with straws inside.

“I don’t know,” Sora says, “but I like hugs.”

Terra lets go and wipes the tears from his eyes. “It’s just that Sora makes me happy.” He pauses for a moment. Ventus is okay. But being caught in such an emotional outburst is now awkward. “You all make me happy.”

He bends to hug Riku as well, who holds out the open coconuts further, so as not to spill them. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m hugging you.” Several more chuckles escape Terra’s mouth.

“You’re such a sap.”

Kairi snaps a little. “Riku, he’s been through a lot. Everyone needs a hug every now and then.”

As if on cue, Terra hugs her as well. She smiles widely and returns it, careful not to spill the coconut water all over. Then she hands one to him. Terra sits in the shade, slightly unaware of his immediate surroundings. Laughing until his stomach hurts.

Ventus is sleeping and his heart has been inside Sora this entire time. He has been worrying over what, exactly? All he needs now is to find Aqua, so they can find his body. Then they’ll be together again.

He hears Riku ask Sora, “What exactly happened?”

“I fell from that tree and he thought it was hilarious.”

Terra takes small sips of the coconut water. He can’t drink too much because he’s giggling too hard. The others sit by him and listen to him go on without interrupting. The breeze blows, and this day can be more amazing if only Aqua and Ventus are there, laughing alongside him.

Terra has most of his armor on, his helmet waiting patiently in his hands. They give him a sack to hold the two paopu fruit. The mid-afternoon sun is still shining hard, but soon Terra will bid farewell to it and fly off to Radiant Garden.

“I promised I would deliver a package to Traverse Town for them,” he tells Sora and Riku. Kairi has already said her good-byes and left to spend time with her adoptive family here.

The smile on Sora’s face slowly flips upside down. “That’s right. We have to be there tonight.”

Terra remembers being told that there is a terrible Heartless attack every two nights there. “You don’t want to go?”

Sora sighs. “There are lots of other worlds I should be visiting. Like Twilight Town for example. My friends there are scared because Heartless invasions haven’t stopped and they don’t have a military to protect them. And I have friends in lots of other worlds that need help, too.”

“You don’t have to go there tonight,” Riku says. “If Terra will be there, then we can handle it on our own.” His best friend insists, but Riku holds his hand up and cuts him off. “I’m positive we’ll be fine.”

Sora nods and fist-bumps with Terra. “Til next time.”

“It seems like this was time well-spent,” Riku tells Terra when they are alone. “I’m glad Sora made you laugh, you really needed it.”

It truly is like a heavy weight being released from his chest. The headache is gone. “He has a very special gift, I’ll say that. That’s why I want to ask you to keep him safe, in case I don’t make it. Keep him away from me if I get dangerous.”

“You’ll make it.” Riku sounds quieter than normal. It’s probably be that he, too, is worried about that. It’s probably that he wants to be admired by Terra as well.

Terra holds his successor’s shoulder and gently squeezes it. “I’m very proud I chose you.”

Riku doesn’t meet his gaze, but he smiles. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Terra’s Keyblade transforms into his glider. Relaxed and ready to tackle his current responsibilities, he almost feels normal. Like he is going on a mission on any other typical day.

This is the first time since waking up that getting his family back seems possible for him. He flies outward, leaving behind that tiny island - that small safe haven, that small blessing - alone and amid such a large, empty ocean.

#terraqua #destiny trio fluff #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfic #terra #sora #riku #kairi #xehanort #eraqus #i had a lot of fun writing this one #it took me an insane amount of time #there is just so much hard work going into writing #especially for me #so i hope it's enjoyable #my fic

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sunevial · 6 years

Text

The Followers: The Old Priestess

Installment number five of my DMP fanfiction, set in @internetremix‘s universe. the Murder God belongs to @miss-goggles. Enjoy!

“Aww man, I really liked this dress,” the woman said, inspecting the bloody bullet wound in her stomach with mild fascination and a heaping pile of annoyance, mindlessly brushing a bit of her chestnut colored hair behind one of her ears. “I mean, come on, it fits well, it’s super soft, it has pockets, and now there’s a big ol hole in it. Don’t get me wrong, I can fix it, but man is this gonna be a pain in the butt.”

She got nothing from the man at the other end of the alleyway; he was too busy shaking like a newborn baby bird to even aim the handgun properly, much less give any sort of verbal response beyond a squeak or two. Taking off her glasses, the woman polished the dirty lenses with a small corner of the dress that wasn’t currently bloodspattered. It had been a pretty good day up to this point between visiting the art museum and stopping at a food truck parked somewhere within the sprawling expanses of the local park. But this? Well, this would just be the icing on the cake. “What, you’re not gonna say anything? You sure talked a lot when you were pointing that thing at me and demanding everything I have in my purse, which by the way, really isn’t very much,” she continued, slipping the frames over her eyes and watching the world come into focus. Ah, much better. “There’s nothing to be worried about, sweetie, I just want to-”

The man bolted, dropping the gun and sprinting for the open city streets. He got maybe three steps before tripping over a rock that had definitely not been there a second ago, hitting the rough concrete and skidding into the building towering over the alley.

Wispy tendrils shot out from the bricks and wrapped around his arms and legs, pinning him against the wall. With a small giggle, the woman reached out into the shadows and pulled them in around her body, enveloping herself in a large swirling spiral of darkness. Barely a second had passed before she clenched her open palm into a fist and broke the spell, shattering the magic and letting the shadows fade into the last shreds of daylight. The tattered dress and sensible sneakers were gone; a knit sweater cape now fell over her shoulders, gracefully caressing a floral skirt around her hips. Her legs were covered in dark tights and ankle wedges were strapped to her feet, giving her a couple extra inches that had not been there before. A small knife rested in one of her gloved hands.

“You know, I don’t think I ever introduced myself,” she said with a wicked smile, slowly walking towards the man. “’I’m the Old Priestess. A pleasure to meet you.” His eyes were wider than dish plates, the gleaming metal on the knife reflecting in his irises. He frantically pulled at the wispy restraints and opened his mouth to scream only to find he could not speak at all. She could feel his fear, smelled it on his skin heard it in his struggle to break free. To live. It was admirable. And futile.

In one motion, she swung the knife and plunged it into his heart.

“Wow, that was a lot of really unnecessary drama and flair for what ended up being your average everyday stabbing,” a voice said in deadpan, accompanied by a very deliberate slow clap. A woman with short blonde hair stood just a few feet away, leaning her back up against the adjoining building. “I really should go back to giving out my ‘Most Unneeded Theatrics Award’ because congratulations, Old Priestess, you just won it for the next three centuries.”

The woman chuckled, dropping the bloodspattered knife into her shadow and watching it fall into nothingness. “Oh come on, you know you liked it too. You love the really over-dramatic stuff when I’m playing,” she said, clicking her wedge heels against the ground and jumping to Her side. “And you know, as much as I love the really cool weapons and the claws and, well, running everything, you know, sometimes I really miss the simple stuff.”

“Fine, fine, you’re right, the over the top acting does add a lot to the stories, as weird as you are for actually volunteering to be a player, but hey, whatever floats your boat. And as much as I hate saying it, I do owe you for being the game master while I was away,” the other woman grumbled, her voice trailing into near whispers and her pointed ears slightly twitching. “And I guess you did a pretty good job too.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it, Captain,” the woman said, laying an arm over Her shoulders. “I mean, we’ve known each other for pretty close to forever. What’s a favor between buddies?”

“That’s cute you still think we’re friends,” the other woman said with an eye roll and a smirk, shoving off the arm and walking into the city streets. She followed close behind, watching as the people unconsciously passed around them as if they didn’t exist at all. There were fewer people out and about than she originally thought. “I don’t need to assume you got the message.”

“Heard it loud and clear,” she replied. “But I was assuming the other Followers would be the one to, you know, round us all up. I thought you were still getting everything together, preparing stuff, you know, doing special god things.”

“I meant the other one. You know, about finding his replacement.”

“Oh yeah!” the woman exclaimed, tapping a finger against her chin. “Right, yes, that thing, that is a very important thing that exists.”

“You forgot to do it, didn’t you?”

“Actually, no, I did do it, and I did find someone,” the woman said with a smile, grabbing a bit of shadows and absentmindedly molding it between her fingers. “I didn’t think anyone could possibly replace him, but I’m feeling pretty good about this one. Now, keep in mind, he’s a little on the young side and I don’t know if he’s completely on board yet, but I think we can win him over.”

“Well, this is probably a terrible idea, but I’ll trust you on this,” the blonde said, lazily inspecting the streetlights. “So, where is this new victi- I mean…potential candidate?”

“Oh, at the old church on Mayweather,” the woman said, opening her hands to show a small cathedral. It seemed to tug at the remaining daylight, sucking it deep within the false image while also faintly glowing in the dimming light. “I think I left him in the cemetery? That or the gardens. Or maybe the music room?”

“So somewhere within fifty miles of the church, got it, no problem at all,” the blonde grumbled, pinching her eyebrows together. “Well, I guess I should probably go talk to him or something, give him the whole spiel, try and convince him to join or die, excetera excetera…”

The woman gave a small sheepish grin and looked up into the heavens, watching the stars slowly dot the still barely lit sky. They had stopped under a streetlight, as if they were waiting for a bus that would never come. “How...is...he doing?”

“Oh honey, you don’t need to worry about him. He doesn’t matter anymore, you know this. You know what he did.” the other said sympathetically, lightly patting her on the cheek. Except Her touch was harsh and there was light shining within Her eyes, a haunting light yellow. She bared her fangs in a scowl. “Or do I need to remind you that he turned on us all, wounded my poor blood dragon, and tried one by one to send the five of you to your deaths?” She was shaking now, all six eyes wide and red and Her voice echoing through the streets. “Do I need to remind you what he DID TO ME?”

“Captain, it’s okay. I remember that day better than anyone” the woman said, placing a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. A small chill ran down her back as the memories of that awful day cropped up at the edges of her mind, the utter stillness of being trapped and helpless in a prison of her own making, only being able to watch in horror and fear as the battle raged overhead. “It’s okay. It’s over. It’s done. He’s gone now. We’re here. We’re safe.”

“Right,” the Murder God said with shaky breaths, light fading from her eyes. She took in a deep breath and let it out, the four eyes on her cheeks slowly fading away until all that remained were two symmetrical lines. “Right. Exactly. He’s a traitor. He doesn’t matter and he never did. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

“Maybe you should go and see our new friend,” the woman suggested, offering Her the small cathedral sculpture. “I’ll just wait here for the others.”

“You know, that right there sounds like a good idea,” She muttered, moving all but a single hand out of the light. She paused and cupped a hand over the statue. “Thanks…old friend.”

“Anytime, Captain,” the woman said with a smile as the other woman vanished, disappearing into the night as if she hadn’t been there just now and had never been there anytime before. The little sculpture was nowhere to be found. The woman sighed, leaning her back against the lamppost and crossing her arms. The wind danced past her, picking up the cape and threatening to fly off into the night. She simply hugged the fabric closer to her body and waited. Waited for them to come to her.

“My lady, I wasn’t expecting to see you out here,” a welcome voice said, stepping into the light and giving her a friendly smile. In the shadows beyond, three more silhouettes stood and waited. She returned the gesture, holding out one of her hands. He delicately took one and kissed the top of her still gloved hand.

“And I wasn’t expecting you to be here so soon,” she replied, throwing her arms around him and pulling the others into the light. Laughter and greetings rang through the streets as hugs and long overdue pleasantries were exchanged, oblivious to the rest of the world and the rest of the world equally ignorant of them. With open ears and ernest stories on their lips, they talked as a moonless night hovered above and five stars no one could remember appeared over the sprawling metropolitan area. The woman grinned.

Oh how good it was to be back.

#fanfiction #discord murder party #internet remix #the followers

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shadowdianne · 6 years

Note

Okay, so I have a fluffy prompt (pun intended): Somehow Regina gets turned into a fluffy, fiesty little black kitten, and Emma is the one to care for her.

It feels like magic, is that you? Xd Because ifit is I can feel called out :P If it’s not… well, some time ago I wrote thislittle thing -that I didn’t complete because… well, I tend to leave stuffhalted due to prompts. I would want to finish it tho’ and it portrays Regina asa cat. Sort of-

However, this doesn’t take place on that worldso thank you for the prompt and I hope you like it 😉

Emma bit down on her bottom lip as she watchedat the kitten in front of her, its eyes seeming almost to keep on winking ather. The furry black ball, however, seemed anything but festive and the blondesighed deeply while trying to hide her amusement before crouching in front ofit, hands dangling from her knees where she rested her wrists.

“So… how long did Rumple say it was going totake?” Her question, despite the way her eyes kept trained into the black kitten,was directed towards Snow and David. The couple had been standing at the otherside of the sheriff’s office, close enough to touch each other as Snow kept onfiddling with her wedding ring in a way that made her strikingly similar to herdaughter and her own fiddling.

One that she had been doing at least untilrecently, ring now missing from her hands.

“A few days perhaps. Or maybe not… he wasn’tsure.” David answered before glancing quickly at his wife, a nod confirming herreply as a small sigh that echoed louder than usual as Emma narrowed her eyes,watching at the fur-ball in front of her.

The kitten was adorable; that was out of thequestion. It was the intelligence on its pupils and the way they almost glowedpurple in rage every time Emma tried her best not to laugh that it becameobvious who was at the other side of the transforming spell.

“He told us that she is still there.” Davidlicked his lips out of nervousness as Emma extended her right hand, palmupwards, towards the kitten, her fingers almost gracing the small nose of theanimal before it hissed, nibbling her skin in a way that could only be awarning. “But the spell…”

“She is going to be so angry at us.” Snow’sinterruption made Emma look up, one hand still extended, the other flat at herknee now in an attempt to keep her balanced in front of the kitten. “She saidthat she didn’t want any interruptions on her vault but…”

“I’m sure she will understand it was a mistake.”David placed his left hand on Snow’s forearm, a gentle gesture Emma glanced atit before returning her eyes to the cat who was now looking at her parents in away that if it had been Regina’s it could only have been described as a scoff. “Youonly dropped a bottle…

Well, now Emma understood better why the kittenhad refused to be close to Snow as soon as the trio had entered into thestation, convoluted explanation already falling out of her father’s lips. Thiswas going to be interesting.

“Couldn’t Gold…” She began, pushing herself outof her crouched position, the kitten’s eyes following her every movement. “un-magicher or something?”

Snow shook her head and dragged an even loudersigh than before.

“He told us he can’t, magic being unstableagain.”

Emma tilted her head and fought the need toroll her eyes; of course. That was the reason why Regina had go to the vaultafter all; to try to find a solution for the bursts of magic that had beenhappening. Focusing instead on the little animal and feigning a cough in orderto mask her need to grin, she tilted her head towards it before turning back toher parents.

“So… you are saying me that we need to waituntil Regina is Regina again?”

The cat mewled.

“Only for a few days.” David quipped. “And so,we thought that you could be the one in charge to take care of her while she is…”

“Transformed.” Snow finished with a quick smilethat didn’t quite reach the easy mood she was trying to infuse her words with. “Thehouse might be empty without… and so we thought…”

Emma didn’t even waist her time pointing at hermother how she not so subtly had tried not to mention Hook’s name in front ofher. Not that she cared about the pirate anymore, not like she had once upon a timeconvinced herself she did.

The cat seemed as displeased as she feltbecause its whole posture seemed to change, bristling for a second beforepositioning herself between Emma and Snow in a way that could have beeninterpreted as Regina glaring at the other brunette. Of course, in cat form,the glare didn’t hold quite the same punch.

It wasn’t, Emma reasoned, like she would havesaid otherwise if she had been with her parents at Gold’s; both Regina and herhad made abundantly clear that they trusted each other and, if she was beinghonest, if the one transformed in an animal would have been her she would havefelt far safer with Regina. Nodding and hoping that the arrangement was whatthe former queen truly wanted Emma decided to settle the discussion; the cat…or Regina, was going to stay with her.

“Only the best sardines for you, am I right?”She muttered after Snow and David had done their farewells; Snow stillmuttering how she hadn’t wanted to break the bottle that had been filled withthe potion that had caused the whole problem to begin with. Emma suspected thatit was going to pass a really long time before the woman was going to beallowed into Regina’s vault.

“You smell like Regina.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at Ruby’s pun, the lankybrunette letting out a wolfish grin before coming closer to the blonde andpicking a small black hair out of Emma’s jacket in a flair that made the blondesuddenly very conscious of the way the werewolf seemed to be laughing at someinner joke she didn’t feel like understanding.

“Snow told you?”

Ruby nodded dramatically before pushing herelbows forward on the dinner’s counter. She had returned from her adventures withDorothy a month ago but Granny had lasted only a second before placing her backat the other side of the Formica table; notepad in hand. The werewolf however,hadn’t seem to mind and so she was back to be a waitress. Until either Dorothyor herself decided to leave, that’s it. A threat that turned more and morevague as weeks passed.

“She came after dropping by at the station.” Shruggingand mechanically preparing Emma’s usual, Ruby hummed absentmindedly beforeplacing the blonde’s coffee to go in front of her. “I asked and she told me.”

Emma bit back a sigh; many things could be saidabout her mother. Keeping a secret wasn’t one of those. Raising her left hand andfiddling with her pendant, she rose the cup to her lips and winced at the heatbefore muttering something that could be either a hum or a swear.

A moment Ruby only allowed her to bask on for atotal of a second before she re-started her interrogation; eyes twinkling.

“So, how is her majesty?”

Emma narrowed her eyes for a moment, staring atRuby and the way she kept on looking at her, glancing cheekily from behind thecounter. It had been years since someone had actually called Regina that and,for almost a moment, she considered starting that old diatribe with Ruby. Amoment that was quickly lost as Ruby growled and muttered an “I’m sorry” thatmatched with her eyes as they glowed yellow. Gulping down a second sip of hercoffee before replying to the question, Emma thought on the kitten she hadfound hovering her pillow that very morning, eyes firmly closed and not anounce of will to move out of what Emma considered to be HER place.

“It’s…. interesting.” She finally replied, elicitinga snort from Ruby. “Being a cat suits her.”

“I wouldn’t have said that Regina was the kindof person that spit fur balls.”

Emma threw a warning glance to her friend; lookthat was quickly dismissed by a smirking Ruby.

“You know what I meant.”

Rolling her eyes Emma kept on answering,thinking on how excited Henry had looked for a moment only to stare agape atwhat was his mother, the question of how Emma had decided to buy a cat dying onhis lips.

“She was comfortable with Henry.” She said,blowing onto the coffee. “I was worried that she might have felt like hidingaway but she didn’t. Problem is that she hovers the sheets.”

This time a loud snort was heard through thedinner, one that wasn’t stopped by Emma’s warning glare nor the muttered “Ruby”the werewolf was quick to shut with a small giggle.

“So…” The brunette said after she threw a quicklook to Granny, pleading look that was met with a nod from the old woman. “Youshared your bed with her?”

“It’s not like I have another.” Emma mumbled,blushing. That had been a complicated moment but after Hook’s leave the househad slowly transformed into a place only to be in the barest minimum and ithadn’t been like the room they could have used for guests had ever been filledin so apart from Henry’s room -which the ca… Regina had almost entered in beforewrinkling its nose in something that seemed Regina’s sour face before askingHenry why he hadn’t aired out his room- only the master bedroom was properlyfurnished. It had been the easiest choice for the first night after all.

Now, as Ruby bit down another fit of gigglesEmma wondered if it had.

Chuckling, Ruby started to move away, Leroymoving towards the two of them.

“I don’t know Emma, perhaps you should justkiss her already and see if that works out.”

And, on that final note, the werewolf left Emmato her devices, a snort following her back as she did so.

Beinghonest with herself Emma had thought about what Ruby had said more than a fewtimes throughout the day. However, after talking with Rumplestiskin a few timesas well to the Fairies and only seeing that yes, bursts of magic would keep onhappening from time to time until the residual power subsided, she had triedhard not to stop every few seconds to consider why the werewolf had told hersuch thing.

Finding thekitten, which she truly couldn’t bring herself to think as it as Regina, in themiddle of creating something that was already a mess with the many books Emmahad picked over from Regina’s vault after their magic lessons in an open disarraythat spoke almost nothing of the former queen’s usual cleanliness, however,made Emma forget for a moment about any words regarding a kiss.

(All thebooks were open on transformation spells, as she would later realize.)

Until shestarted to grumble at the cat, that is, and her tired-addled mind decided thatcould confide on it for Ruby’s words.

Suddenlythe constant proud hiss that had come from the kitten ever since Emma had startedto put the books away stopped altogether.

“… Regina?”

(Sheobviously ended up kissing the brunette. Of course she did; she had been inlove with the former queen for a lot longer she felt herself ready to admitafter all. And then she later had a really long conversation that had a fewtears on it. She also had to go back to Granny the morning after and face Rubywho, this time, simply smirked at her and muttered a quick “You smell likeRegina.” again before giving her two coffees. Emma found herself too happy forto fully register it. That, however, is another story)

#swan queen #prompt #super-nerdy-chick

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headoverhiddles · 6 years

Text

Shot Of Glory [Richie x Eddie]

The Losers head out to Wyoming in Bill's dad's station wagon for a country festival graduation trip from high school. The crush that Richie's had on Eddie since they were kids is virtually impossible to keep inside anymore, but telling him terrifies Richie to no end- another shot of whiskey might help his courage.

Warnings: Underage drinking. Fluff! Based on the song Shot of Glory by The Washboard Union. Available on ao3 here.

None of the Losers expected they would be spending their meticulously planned summer grad trip on the road to a country music festival. Except for Ben and Bev and Mike, who all kind of enjoyed the genre. Eddie had been the tipping vote as to whether or not they'd be spending their grad trip in Wyoming or Universal Studios (or Vegas as Richie had pitched, except what the fuck were a bunch of 17 year olds going to do in Las Vegas?). The only reason Eddie voted for the country festival was that he remembered how many germs were on everything in a park like Universal Studios, and completely squicked out at the idea of touching all those safety bars, which he would inevitably be clinging onto for dear life. They only really had enough money put together for the hotel only in Orlando anyway.

Yeah the boys round here,

Drinkin' that ice cold beer, talkin' bout girls, talkin' bout trucks, running them red dirt roads out kickin' up dust-

"Will someone put some other shit on?" Richie called from the backseat of Bill's dad's old station wagon, "We'll have to suffer through this at the festival, no point in torturing our ears with it now!"

"Some people like this music," Mike said from the shotgun seat, turning it up, and Richie rolled his eyes, bending his knees and putting his feet up on the back of the driver's side seat.

"Where are we now Ben, Buttfuck Nowhere? You're the geography expert, aren't you?"

"History," Ben reminded for the millionth time over the past five years he had known Richie.

"Same shit, yada yada. Just tell me where you can get some decent cigarettes and a pie I can throw in Eddie's face for voting us out here instead of checking out the new Incredible Hulk ride at-"

"Beep beep Richie," Bill said, gripping the steering wheel, "And get your f-f-feet off the seat, my dad's gonna k-kill me."

"Yeah, that's so gross, so fucking unsanitary," Eddie muttered from beside him, and Richie made a face at him.

"I'm actually with Richie," Bev said slowly, "It would be nice to stop for a while, and I could use a cigarette myself."

"We'll f-find a place to pull off," Bill said, "Anyone got a m-map?"

"Yeah, it's up Eddie's mom's ass," Richie joked, and Eddie hit him, prompting Bev to sigh beside them.

"I'm hungry," Stan commented.

"Don't you have, like, a bajillion granola bars packed away in there?" Eddie asked.

"No, it was either those or the birdfeed, and how am I supposed to birdwatch without anything to attract birdfeed?"

"Well, you could just... not bird watch like a nerd?" Richie shrugged.

"Oh, well you could always take your suggestions, Richie, and jam them up your-"

"Would you l-l-losers shut up?!" Bill blurted, "Jesus Christ, we've b-been out on the road for not even a day and you two are about to k-kill each other!"

"I think we all need some air," Ben commented.

They pulled over at the next gas station they saw, and everyone pretty much ran to the bathroom.

"Hey Bev," Richie murmured as they headed into the station, "Wanna hijack the car and run off to Maui?"

"Maui?" she smirked, "I thought you wanted to go to Vegas."

"Anything's better than this flat, barren desert of nothing."

"We'll be at the festival soon." She nudged him. "Come on Tozier- do it for Eddie." She smiled at him, and Richie sucked in a breath. Do it for Eddie.

Bev, Bill and Mike were the only ones who knew about his crush on Eddie. Beverly totally had his back without being pushy about it- the other Losers were stupidly oblivious, but it was okay with Richie if his secret was kept under wraps for as long as possible.

But yeah. He could do it for Eds.

"Hi," Beverly smiled at the gas station attendant. The guy stopped chewing on his gum and looked her up and down.

"Well hey there, pretty little lady. What can I get ya?"

"Pack of Marlboro Reds and a pack of menthols."

"Hoooee!" the guy chuckled, "You're a chimney, through and through, eh?!"

"They're for her mother," Richie supplied helpfully, and Beverly blinked innocently, "She's too sick to get out of bed."

"Heaven knows why," the guy snorted, and rang them through. "Sorry for the formality, but I'm gonna need to get your ID."

"Oh, sure..." She reached for her back pocket, and threw her hands up. "Shoot, must've left it in the car. Gimme a second?"

"Alrighty."

Richie shook his head as Bev jogged out. "She's so forgetful. She's forget her head if it wasn't attached to her shoulders! Hey, while you're waiting, can you grab me another one of those I Heart Wyoming hats from the back? I'm just in love with them."

The guy shrugged, and went off to the back. As Beverly had taught him, Richie quickly stuffed the two packs in his pockets and took off... not before nabbing the display hat off the shelf. He made it to the car, tossed the Marlboros to Beverly and kept the menthols for himself.

"Go," Bev said, kissing Ben on the cheek, and Bill started the car as the guy came back.

"Hey! Hey, y'all wait!"

"You're so stupid, Richie," Stan muttered as they sped off, crossing his arms.

"I think I'm a master thief," Richie said in his British accent, and Eddie smiled a little to himself as Richie plopped the I Heart Wyoming hat on his head backward.

"For you, Spaghetti Man. Red just isn't my colour."

Eddie looked away, and when no one was looking, switched the hat around so that it was facing forward.

"Okay okay, uh... would you rather turn into Shrek every time someone said your name, or have Pee Wee Herman narrate your life?" Richie asked, and Ben burst out laughing.

"They're both so bad."

"Yeah, honestly who would pick either?" Stan asked, and Richie shrugged.

"You've gotta pick one."

"Shrek," Mike weighed in, "Definitely Shrek."

"Not P-pee Wee?" Bill smirked.

"I'd straight up murder that guy."

"If you turned into Shrek all the time, I'd break up with you," Stan pursed his lips.

"Stan, I didn't know you were so materially inclined," Bev acted shocked.

"Yeah, I'm hurt babe," Mike put a hand over his heart, and Stan shook his head.

"I am not dating an ogre."

"Wouldn't be so bad," Richie said, "You could scare people away... Eds, what would you do?"

"I'd like to have you narrating my life," Eddie huffed, "Your mouth already runs a mile a minute, might as well use it to document something useful."

"I would be honored, sir," Richie grinned, and Eddie blushed, looking away. Richie swallowed. Was he trying too hard? Fuck, he was probably giving himself away... He ran a hand through his hair, hoping his anxiety wouldn't get the better of him. Ben looked at him inquisitively, but Richie didn't quite feel like talking anymore.

The next day, after shelling out half of their crumpled up bills they had all saved for the past two years and dumping their stuff at a creepy motel that smelled like bad yogurt and moth balls, they were almost at the festival grounds. Country music was blaring through their speakers, and Bev sang along with Mike, Ben, and a shy Eddie. Even Bill found himself humming along to the tunes, and Richie and Stan discovered they were joined by their mutual hatred of this genre of music.

Soon, the first night of the festival arrived. Favourites of the group like Dierks Bentley, Luke Bryan, Chris Young, and the Zac Brown Band graced the stage, and Richie found that he was enjoying himself a little more now that he wasn't cramped up in the car and could channel his energy into something else.

Currently, the Zac Brown Band was performing a popular song of theirs, "Sweet Annie." Mike and Stan were sitting with each other on a couple of chairs to the side of the bar, giggling about something, and Ben and Beverly were out on the floor, slow dancing. Ben was singing to Bev softly, and though he didn't have the best voice ever, Beverly found everything her boyfriend did to be incredibly sweet and romantic. Her head rested on Ben's shoulder as they rocked together to the music, and she looked over to see Bill dancing with some girl he had found with blonde hair and cowboy boots. Her gaze shifted, and she saw Eddie drinking from a bottle of water, with Richie staring at him, enthralled Nd tapping his knee, a few paces away. Every time one would look at the other, the other would look away.

Beverly sighed.

That night at the motel, everyone paired up for beds. Mike and Stan, Ben and Bev, and that left... Bill, Eddie, and Richie.

"I can take the couch..." Richie said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No no," Bill smirked, the tall brunette teen giving Richie a meaningful look, "Y-you two go ahead."

"You won't even be able to fit on the couch Bill, your legs are like mile-long stringbeans!" Richie protested, feeling his face heat up.

"N-no, it's fine. The couch is closer to the w-w-window. I like to, uh... see the stars." Bill kept on smirking.

"You sappy weirdo," Richie muttered, and Eddie headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. In the meantime, Richie settled under the covers, taking deep breaths in and out.

He could do this. Of course he could do this! He had grown up with Eddie, ever since they had met in friggin' kindergarten! A billion sleepovers had been spent sharing a sleeping bag with Eddie, Eddie sleeping on his lap, Eddie falling asleep on his shoulder during long car rides to baseball practice, anything and everything for years... so why was it so awkward now? He took off his glasses, placing them on the night table, and rubbed his eyes.

Richie felt his heart skip a beat as the door to the bathroom opened, the crack of light illuminating the dark motel room temporarily before the light was flicked off. Eddie felt his way to the bed-- it wasn't even that small a bed, they both had plenty of space-- and got in.

"Hey Eds," Richie whispered.

"Hey Rich," Eddie whispered back, then paused. "Don't call me that."

"Sorry, spaghetti man. You enjoying the festival?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's pretty fun."

"Yeah..." Richie murmured. He didn't want to stop talking, because that would mean laying there beside each other in silence, wondering what the other person was thinking.

"Watchya thinkin' about, Eds?" Richie whispered. Eddie spent a long time thinking, so long that Richie thought he'd fallen asleep. Then he spoke up.

"How happy I am to be on this trip, Rich."

"Really?"

"Mhmm. It's nice to be away from home for a while... it's refreshing not to have someone watching me all day every day, seeing if I'm just gonna fall apart in front of their eyes." Another pause. "I'm not that fragile, you know?"

"Yeah," Richie offered, not able to think of anything else to say. His home life was the opposite of Eddie's and both boys knew it. Richie's parents didn't care about anything he did, sort of like Bill's, Ben's, and... well, pretty much any of them except for Eddie. But Richie's parents not only didn't care, but frequently made it clear how happy they'd be once he got his "freak little ass out of their house where he can go bother someone else." That's one thing Richie didn't keep from his friends... he didn't know where he'd be if he couldn't share that.

"Rich? You awake?"

"Yeah, Eds."

"S-s-shut up!" Bill called, "If you two don't m-mind, some of us want some sleep!"

"Yeah, keep it down Felix and Oscar," Mike joked. A few more seconds ticked by.

"I sure hope these sheets are cleaned really fucking well daily," Eddie whispered as quietly as he could to Richie, "I'm wearing my favourite red shorties."

Richie squeezed his eyes shut.

Fuck.

The next night of the festival was the perfect night. Starry sky, stage lit up by the moon, it was gorgeous. A couple of songs in, and Richie was getting the jitters all over again. Being this close to Eddie for such a long time was exhilarating, but for some reason, nerve wracking. He had known his friend their entire lives... what was his deal?

He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up.

The Washboard Union took the stage, and began to play a few of their songs, before they started up a song called "Shot

Of Glory." Beverly's eyes lit up, and she dragged everyone to the floor except for Richie, who headed over to the bar. Shots? Good plan.

Praise be, Richie wasn't carded, as his hair fell into his eyes and he had aged fast with his high cheekbones and growth spurt after hitting 15, so he ordered a "beer" at first.

"What kind of beer?"

"A boilermaker."

"That's... not a beer."

"It's a drink, though. Pip pip, and tally ho good fellow!" he clapped. The guy just gave him the evil eye, but went to get the drink ready.

Boy shit, a boilermaker was not what Richie was expecting, and halfway through the song, he was well on his way to getting tanked. Looking over at his small little Eddie attempting to dance as gracefully as Beverly, Richie's heart ached, and he admired his best friend. He looked so good tonight, in those high socks, shorts, and pink shirt riding up the barely noticeable V of his hips and light snail trail... Eddie looked up, going red at the fact that Richie was watching him fail at dancing, and Richie's heart stopped as Eddie's brown eyes met his. The alcohol wasn't the only thing making him weak.

It's a Friday night, like any other, you walk in I stare and I stutter, every single time you look at me.

Richie wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and finished off the last of the boilermaker. Eddie looked so good... he needed to lie down... but also, he needed to dance. What was that word, dance? Hmm... thinking is a strange thing. Fuzzy, fuzzy, music sounds good, huh... why hadn't Eddie or any of those other losers introduced him to country music sooner? Eddie, Eddie, Eddie Spaghetti. He was beautiful, and silence was not something Richie was good at.

"Good sir! Beer me a whiskey," Richie slurred, trying not to sound like the inexperienced, lightweight of a 17 year old that he was. The bartender eyed him warily, but grabbed a bottle as Richie's fingers drummed nervously on the bar, leg jostling restlessly.

I need a fix of True Companion, Jimmy Beam, or Old Jack Daniels, something strong to stop these shaking knees.

"Eddie!" Richie called, walking out onto the dance floor.

Drinking up my courage, whiskey for my nerves

Eddie lifted his chin, and Richie's head spun.

Got me drunk on your short summer dress, powder room ballerina, I'm gonna need another shot of glory, ain't no turning back...

"Hi Richie. Enjoying your, um... whiskey, I think?"

"No," Richie made a face, spitting it out, and Eddie stifled a giggle, trying to hold him up.

"You're an idiot when you're drunk, you know that?"

"I think Stan would agree with you," Richie replied.

"I think everyone would agree with me," Eddie retorted, smiling, and Richie physically gasped.

You got me high on your tipsy smile and your hips all swingin'

"Dance with me, Eds," Richie blurted, and Eddie's eyes widened as Richie began to dip him. He soon fell into the groove of the song, and the world spun around them.

We start spinnin', spinnin', spinnin'

Stumbling away in a moment of sobriety, the taller teenager blushed hard and pushed up his glasses, looking around.

"Where's... uh, Bill?"

"I think he's still with that blonde cowgirl chick he was with earlier," Eddie mused, and turned to peer behind him. He noticed a blue pickup truck, and Bill and the girl making out inside of it. "Oh yup. Definitely is."

They stood there for a second, looking slightly out of place on the dance floor.

"How many of these "whiskeys" did you have?" Eddie asked.

"Oh... enough."

"Maybe you should get to bed-"

"Eddie Kaspbrack?" Richie stood up straight as best he could, and felt everything good swirl around him- the laughter, the lively music, the dancing, the smiles of his closest friends as they had the time of their lives. He felt the confidence surge through him. "You... y'know something?"

"What?"

"Eddie Kaspbrack, I've loved you since the day we met."

Eddie stopped, lips parting. Richie felt some part of his brain flashing off, telling him to retreat, back to the motel maybe, the grand canyon possibly on the other side of America to fling himself into, anywhere, just to run, but the other part kept him rooted there.

"Richie..." Eddie said softly, looking down. Richie braced himself for the rejection by closing his eyes, but he almost flipped his shit when he felt two smaller hands on the sides of his face, cupping it as soft lips met his. Sudden gasps resounded from their friends, and Richie opened his eyes to see a (blurry) Eddie grinning up at him.

"You're a dumbass and I love you too," he said, and Richie let out a cry of victory, pumping his fist up. This resulted in a huge group hug, with Richie probably kissing Eddie in the middle of it again, and the band played the last note of the song. Richie broke free, grabbed his glass of whiskey again and took a sip, then got on stage, taking the mic from them.

"I'd like to thank the Washboard Union and the State of Wyoming!" Richie called, raising his glass, and toppled off the stage with a crash.

"Fucking hell," Eddie muttered.

"Hey... is anyone gonna pay this kid's tab?" the bartender called out in irritation. Beverly looked over, and bit her lip, kissing Ben and whispering something to him. Then she approached the bar with a charming smile, and leaned against it.

"Hey there. Has anyone ever told you you look just like Clark Kent?"

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