Discover Top Posts Tagged with #franklin date everything

╭┈ • ┈ ┈ ୨୧ ┈┈ • ┈╮

⟢ Sugar & Spice, Love & Hate

⋆˚࿔ Date Everything! Fanfiction

╰┈ • ┈ ┈ ୨୧ ┈┈ • ┈╯

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Chapter Index 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

────୨ৎ────

Hello, my lovely readers !! I just wanted to give a quick apology for my long hiatus between this chapter and the last one, as well as an apology that some of the chapters being shorter than I’d like them to be.

I've been in a slump of preparing to finish this school year of college and getting ready to move back home. I've also been focused on so many other things outside of Date Everything and, to be entirely honest, my interest in the game itself has dropped since I began this fanfiction. Fret not! My interest and passion for this story has not wavered at all. I have full intentions of finishing it and making it just as good as I always intended. Nothing will be rushed and nothing will be cut short. I only want to make it clear that the promise of weekly updates isn't so concrete as it once was and I have to ask for a bit more patience with my completion of this story.

Balancing college and fanfiction is rough, but I still want to do my best to provide you lovely people with something good to eat. Your patience and enjoyment of what I’ve been putting out means the absolute most to me. Thank you again and enjoy the chapter !!

Au revoir 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

────୨ৎ────

It’s supposed to start snowing in a week. As winter draws closer, you find yourself feeling more and more hopeless. Seasonal depression has always been a bitch, but feeling like your life and another’s are on the line certainly doesn’t make it feel any better. Avoidance is usually easy and ignorance is bliss, but that simply doesn’t work in this case. You can’t ignore the white, orange, and pink that plagues your body and will only continue to spread.

A pattern has placed itself on your skin. The pink ring didn’t continue further down, but rather cut off once a thick amount of it wrapped around your wrist before sharply changing to orange instead. Your arm looks like a pink-and-orange candy cane. The colors have reached your elbows by now and you’re really starting to see the resemblance to the Dateviators within your body. That being said, you can’t help but wonder what you’ll look like once your transformation finishes. You wonder if you’ll become a complete clone of Skylar. Or rather, perhaps, you’ll look just like you with her lovely outfit and popping colors added as an accessory to your skin tone rather than a replacement. You can’t help but focus so hard on the outcome, especially considering the fact that you’re quite intensely hating your current position. The colors from your hands to your elbow almost feel like a tattoo you’ve deeply regretted. It’s something you can’t wash off, nor can you ever dream of removing; that is, of course, unless you find a solution to this entire issue at hand.

The solution. You’ve been so focused on the outcome of allowing this to spread through your body that you’ve entirely abandoned your search for a solution. Though you’ve continued to round up with Timothy, Penelope, and Jerry time and time again to further turn Penelope’s goal board into your own personal detective work, your group has met a dead end of simply not knowing what to do. The looks of pity are becoming exhausting on their own, though they vary from person to person. You get the look of concern a lot, but in some rare instances, there are quite a lot of objects that look at you as if they’re confused by you. Not quite disgusted, but bordering on “weirded out.” The looks are bothersome, but you’ve gotten so used to looking past them. They mainly only come when you’ve met another dead end or discussed your situation with someone. The exchanges of looks between Timothy, Penelope, and Jerry are unbearable each time you leave the office after an unsuccessful session of playing detective and you’ve gone to the Breaker Box much less often because you find yourself constantly coddled in some way whenever you go there. You can tell Volt still holds a bit of resentment toward the idea of being hidden from this truth for quite some time, but it’s overshadowed by his concern for your health. Neither reaction from him is enjoyable.

You’ve been sitting out on the back porch for an hour by then, merely spacing out as you run through your head. You’ve been staring at the same tree the entire time, watching the leaves sway side to side with the gentle breeze. It’s not exactly cold outside, but wearing a hoodie definitely soothes the occasional chills that run up and down your spine. After all, you’re not exactly supposed to be sitting outside, but since you’re so close to the door and you’re not running around playing football this time, you consider the risk in your favor. Besides, sitting outside feels like the only spot where you can truly be alone. Every room feels like you have eyes on you in one way or another. You never minded the temporary solitude that was never truly solitude before, but you yearn for a moment alone now more than anything. That’s another reason as to why the risk is far more worth it.

Hearing the back door open and close startled you for only a moment. You weren’t expecting anyone else to follow you outside, but you appreciate them for using the door like a normal human being as a small warning of their presence. You’ve been alone with your thoughts for an hour now, so what do you have to lose by welcoming company? You’re further inclined to be welcoming the moment a mug of steaming coffee is reached in front of your view, allowing you to finally raise your head from its cozy spot in your hands to meet the fond gaze of your coffee machine.

“Don’t mean to intrude,” Kopi began, allowing you to take the mug from her hands, “but I thought you could use some company. You’ve been sitting out here alone for quite some time now.”

You give her a smile in return and nod to let her know she’s welcome to sit beside you, an offer she gladly takes.

“Should you be out here?” You ask curiously as Kopi settles at your side, sitting on the edge of the back porch with you.

“Probably not, but you shouldn’t really be out here either,” Kopi shrugs her shoulders and chuckles, “at least now if anything happens, we’ll have each other.”

You feel your smile grow and avert your gaze back to that same tree you’ve been staring at for the past hour. She has a point. Now the odds are even more in your favor and sitting outside in the backyard seems so far from a risk at all.

Kopi embraces the silence as she crosses her arms and rests them on her knees, her eyes scanning the backyard. The sky is gray and shadowed with clouds, but it just makes the scenery more peaceful. The chill of the air, reminding you of an approaching winter season, allows your head to clear. The accompaniment of warm coffee with that chill works even better for that clearing. Everything just seems quiet outside and you feel foolish for not taking this risk sooner. Besides, another collapse feels worth it if it means you get to sit out here and enjoy the tranquil moments of nature, even if only for a few hours.

“I don’t come out here a lot at all,” Kopi finally says, her tone gentle as not to break the peaceful barrier of the world around you two, “It’s nice…”

You nod in agreement, your focus remaining stagnant on that single tree directly in the center of your line of sight. It contrasts with Kopi’s gaze that flits around the scenery, even darting up to the sky, which has nothing to offer but gray clouds. She enjoys the sight anyway.

“I used to live with a big group in an apartment while I was still in college,” you say in response, “it was almost impossible to get much peace in that apartment. It wasn’t bad, just…suffocating at times.”

Kopi has entirely focused her gaze on you by then, listening as you continue on with your story.

“So, when I felt like I needed to be alone, I went outside of the complex with a blanket or quilt and just…sat in the grass. I’d listen to music or sometimes just enjoy nature. It was a break from how hectic my social life could be,” you pause as you recall your experience of living with others, “I think my favorite days were ones like this. Even the earth is quiet. It’s like Mother Nature is taking a breather, too.”

Kopi chuckles at your words, shifting her focus right back to enjoying the scenery.

“I think everyone needs a breather right now,” Kopi responds, “A lot has happened around the house.”

“Because of me,” you add to her sentence and her expression softens slightly.

“Because of your situation. It’s not like you did anything. If anything, the antagonist is the Dateviators,” Kopi muses. You can’t help but crack a smile at her words.

You know you can’t avoid guilt. It’s human. Even if you rationally know something isn’t entirely your fault, you sit and pick at yourself regardless for being involved. Realistically, no. It’s not your fault. Everyone has the right to tell you that. But you can’t help but get sick of hearing that over and over again. It’s like you want to torture yourself with the blame because, if not you, who else?

“I know…” You finally mumble in response, “It’s just so damn hard to believe that.”

“I get it,” Kopi responds, patting your shoulder, “You know, one time with one of our old homeowners, they broke a mug trying to make coffee. They had been in such a rush that they set it on the edge of my coffee maker and it tipped over the side and rolled right off the counter. Daisuke was mortified.”

You turn your head to finally meet her gaze, seeing the sheepish smile on her face as she recalls the story.

“Did they apologize or–?”

“Oh, no, they didn’t even have the Dateviators,” Kopi snorts, “but Daisuke certainly was mad with them. He didn’t blame me one bit, but I blamed myself. After all, the mug broke falling off of me, and I couldn’t do anything to snatch it because not only was it so sudden, but it would have alarmed our homeowner to see a floating mug.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you interject, chuckling softly, “That’s nowhere near your fault.”

“Daisuke said the same when I tried to apologize to him, but I still felt guilty,” Kopi pauses and then grins at you, “but see your response? As an outsider, you have an easier time recognizing where the blame falls, but when you’re in it, the lines become blurry. I think the same thing about your predicament.”

She got you there. You responded with the exact same thing everyone else has told you. You feel an urge to argue that the situations are different, but you can’t. You’ll only further prove her point. It’s easier to feel guilt when you’re involved, just like it’s easier to rationalize blame when you’re outside of the matter.

You open your mouth, then close it, then sigh and focus back on the tree you’ve been staring at for the past hour. Kopi just chuckles and rubs your back gently as you keep drinking the coffee she brought you.

“...You don’t like being pitied, huh?” Kopi finally asks. You pause mid-sip for a moment before lowering the mug and nodding wordlessly, “I understand. Everyone’s worried about you for good reason, but…I’m telling the truth when I say that they’re trying their hardest not to act any differently around you.”

“They’re doing a great job,” you say bitterly before immediately regretting your attitude, “I understand, it’s just…frustrating. I know I’m changing and, God, I’m fucking scared, too, but I’m tired of being stared at like some Make-A-Wish case. I’m not the one who might die here.”

Kopi’s expression softens to something more solemn and she changes her gentle rubs on your back into small pats.

“We don’t know if Skylar’s dying. Even then, everyone’s just as worried about her as they are you. She just doesn’t see it because she can’t leave her room and she doesn’t get any visitors aside from you and Dorian,” Kopi offers in response before smiling once again, “Have you been sleeping better in her room?”

You think of the past nights you’ve been spending with Skylar. You do indeed sleep better in her room and you recharge much faster, too. You’ve moved to sleeping beside her every single night and, while it was awkward at first, you’ve become accustomed to falling asleep in her arms by now. Skylar’s easy to approach, after all, and the first night you rolled over to nudge closer to her, she hadn’t hesitated to pull you into an embrace to help soothe you in your sleep. Her kindness is beyond you and almost makes you feel more guilty than you had before.

“I have much more vivid dreams in her room,” you answer and Kopi tilts her head to the side curiously.

“Vivid dreams?” Kopi asks and you nod, finishing off the rest of your coffee.

“Yeah,” you whisper as you lick your lips of any remnants of coffee and set the mug down at your hip, “about…all sorts of stuff. Some dreams from my past and others from…I have no idea.”

Kopi’s eyebrows furrow for a moment before she slowly raises one, clearly curious about your change in dreams ever since you’ve started sleeping in Skylar’s room.

“The weird ones are always the exact same, though. The same conversation between two men and always ends with some guy telling me I’m not made for… something,” you trail off before letting out a heavy sigh, “I’ve had that dream a million times and every time I can’t move, can’t speak, and can’t see anything. Everything’s so blurry.”

“Have you told Dorian?” Kopi asks. You shake your head.

“No…I probably should.”

“Have you told Skylar?” Kopi offers and you nod immediately in response.

“I have and she said my dream sounds familiar, but she doesn’t know from where.”

Kopi pauses and taps her chin for a moment before speaking again.

“Do you think it could have to do with your transformation? Maybe you’re having a dream or vision of something from Skylar’s past,” Kopi says. You’re quiet for a moment before your eyes widen a little. You never thought of that. Despite repetition, you never really put any thought into these dreams being important. Considering the point you’re at in your life, you feel like a fool for not taking everything that’s occurred to you more seriously. Of course the dreams could relate to Skylar. More importantly…

“Maybe they relate to the Dateviators,” you add and Kopi nods in agreement.

“It’s worth putting more focus on it. Not that it’s a guaranteed help to you, but resting inside the Dateviators to refuel your body probably has an effect on your mind,” Kopi pauses and gives a curious glance to the scenery around her, “It’s really interesting to hear about. I never thought the Dateviators could be so impactful on a human like this. Then again, I never imagined they could break.”

You nod in agreement, following her gaze back out to the scenery around you two as you speak.

“Considering what they have the capabilities of doing, I’m not surprised there’s more power they hold than anyone expected.”

Silence falls over the two of you before you feel another shiver run up your spine, this time more demanding. You allow your body to shift, a physical reaction to the shudder, and it catches Kopi’s attention. She looks over and softens her gaze from curiosity to warm care.

“How about we head inside, yeah?” Kopi offers, standing up and offering you her hand. You hesitate before slipping your hand into hers. Her skin is just as warm as it looks, feeling just the same as when you hold a mug full of warm coffee or tea. It’s a comforting contrast from the cold air outside.

“Yeah…that’s probably best,” you say as you stand up with her help, picking up your mug along the way and turning to head back inside.

────୨ৎ────

“...What–w-what–are you just firing me? You can’t fire me. We built this together! You and I! This is my technology, this is my machinery, and those are my–”

“This is my company.” The gruff man cut him off with a deep, ragged growl to his voice, “...and as the creator of this company…I cannot stand by when one of my workers tries to drag it down.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…you’re serious…”

“Goodbye, Franklin…I’m terribly sorry this partnership just couldn’t work out.”

You feel that familiar touch along your head that you’ve felt countless times before. The touch runs over you like a ghost trying to connect with humans just barely across their line of existence. The man leans a little closer and you can practically feel his gaze hardening on you. He speaks those same damn words that now bother you more than anything.

“I won’t let him do this…you’re not made for this…”

Made for what? Made for what? Where am I? What am I? What am I made for?

“What am I made for?”

The words leave your lips the moment everything goes black. You feel gravity shift around you, lifting you upright. You feel as if you’re standing now, a weight suddenly shifted onto your feet as you carry your own body weight. You falter a bit, but ground yourself by a touch on your arm that pulls it upwards and out to the side. Your eyes flutter open and this time you can see. Really see.

The scenery of a lab. Colors of gray and the signs of mechanical engineering surround you on small tables and counters. You can move, apparent by the feeling of your fingers twitching as your arm remains raised to the side. With this discovery, you turn your head and hone your focus onto the man standing beside you. He examines your arm, tracing his fingers along the pink and orange strips that swirl up to your shoulder. In this dream, the colors have spread far beyond their state in reality. It’s as if you’re much closer to the finished product now.

The man has short, curly, ginger hair and a scrawny figure. His cheekbones are sharp and he looks as if he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest in a couple of years. His tired eyes still shine with amazement and wonder, dare you say pride as well, as he shifts his gaze from your arm to your face and offers a soft smile. When he speaks, it’s a voice you immediately recognize from your previous dreams.

“You’re made to make a difference, Skylar.”

Skylar?

You open your mouth to protest, but recall your earlier conversations with Kopi. Skylar said the dreams you’ve told her about sounded familiar. Kopi offered the idea of your dreams tying to Skylar’s memories. The Dateviators' memories. After all, has there been a vessel of the Dateviators before Skylar?

“To make a difference,” you finally echo, settling on following the flow of your dream to hope for answers. You can only assume this man has to do with the invention of the Dateviators. It’s all you could pick up from auditory cues. Looking at him now with the scenery you find yourself in, it only seems more like a fact.

“To do good,” the man continues, “to tie relationships together between the living and the lifeless, and,” the man trails off as he places your arm back at your side, “hopefully to help create life.”

“Create life?” You echo once again and the man chuckles, gently tapping your head.

“Don’t worry. You’ll learn everything you need to know soon enough. I’m just…tweaking the sharp edges.”

The man steps away and looks you up and down with an almost paternal fondness in his eyes. If he truly did create the Dateviators and Skylar herself, you don’t blame him for the look in his eyes.

“You’re almost finished…but I think the colors are too much. If I can tie back the intensity of the Dateviators' energy, maybe…” The man trails off before shaking his head, “Ah, I’ll focus on that later. For now…how do you feel?”

For once since you’ve started getting these dreams, or rather memories, you looked down at your own body. It’s only now that you realize you’re entirely naked. Frozen for a second, your eyes scan over your body’s features. Your legs have the same striped pattern as your arms, and your feet are entirely white, just like your hands. Your waist, cutting off along the beginning curve of your stomach, is white. It almost looks like an imprint of underwear directly on your skin, instead shaping out the area of your pelvis and hips. On your stomach up to your chest is orange and it cuts off to pink where your breasts begin, curving around where your chest is and stretching all the way up to your collarbone and neck. Your entire body is painted with orange, white, and pink.

Not only do the colors startle you, but the fact that you’re naked startles you more. You take a step back, a gasp of shock leaving your lips as you move to cover yourself. The man notices and blinks in surprise, holding up his hands to soothe you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he begins, keeping his feet planted instead of moving closer in concern he’ll startle you further, “it’s alright. I haven’t…figured that part out yet, but I assure you that you’re well and safe here.”

The man lowers his hands and chuckles softly.

“I haven’t seen you freak out like that before. Maybe you are learning faster than I thought you would,” the man says. You can only assume Skylar must have never reacted as you just did. After all, she wasn’t human and didn’t have any recollection of humanity as you did. You’re only visiting her past, not existing as a constant in it. That means your embarrassment is garnered from your experience of life, something Skylar must not have had at this moment.

With that in mind, you slowly allow yourself to lower your hands. You adjust back to your former position. Thinking rationally, this isn’t your body. The man isn’t looking at you. You’re only viewing through another person’s eyes. Still, being seen in such a state is startling.

“I feel…” You finally begin, calming yourself enough to look him in the eyes again once adjusted to your exposure, “...fine.”

“Fine,” he echoes, “No discomfort? No concerns? Nothing you’d like to share with me.”

You hesitate and then shake your head. The man looks relieved and nods.

“That’s good,” he finally confirms with a sigh, “You’ve come a long way, Skylar. You’re so close to full stability. I–” he trails off before smiling, “I’m very proud of you.”

You hold his gaze for a long while, your expression unreadable. You don’t know how to feel about this. It feels wrong to be existing in someone else’s memories, though…you feel as if you’re being shared this experience for a reason. As if taking Skylar’s place means you are left with the responsibility of these memories and the responsibility of existing as not a human, but entirely as the Dateviators. With that knowledge, you have no response for him except one question.

“Even if I am stable,” you begin, hesitating for just a short breath before speaking firmly, “what happens if I break?”

The man looks taken aback, his eyes widening a bit. He chokes on his response for a moment, adjusts his glasses, then speaks.

“You are worried about…breaking?”

“Yes,” you respond immediately. You’re sure the idea of breaking didn’t even exist to Skylar at this moment, but you’re not Skylar…and you have the chance to ask what she never could.

“Well, I suppose that if you broke,” he trails off before speaking again with a reassuring nod, “I’d fix you.”

You take in his words for a long moment. He’d fix you? He’d fix Skylar? He’d fix the Dateviators? Did he have no intentions of leaving the Dateviators behind in some house? Then again, you never really thought about how the hell the Dateviators ended up in that house, left behind from owner to owner to look after them. Left in the hands of a stranger to inevitably change their entire life.

“You…” You trail off and he nods in response.

“Me. Your creator,” he affirms before his smile grows, “Franklin Lieste.”

Franklin Lieste. Franklin Lieste.

That name. You heard the name Franklin mentioned before, but it means so much more now. Franklin made the Dateviators. Franklin can fix the Dateviators. Franklin can fix you.

If there’s one thing you remember about this dream, please, for the love of God, let it be that damn name.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

word count: 4k

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝