#but I think I moved all my school related files from my computer to another storage in our home network after graduating

[lieutenantselnia]

@assortedvillainvault I felt like this is something you should see as well

[allison3k0]

DAILY MR S - Friday

Hey y'all, just as a for-word I'll be changing the formatting of my posts, just so it's easier to know what day of the week it's for and whatever.

Okay so, I stayed after school in his classroom as usual, but this time an old teacher (Both of my older brothers knew him if not had his classes when they went to my school) was visiting, and he was the teacher that Mr S replaced when the other teacher moved schools. So Mr S was like "That's (my name), she's a student in the animation class." to the old teacher. Then Mr S said "(My name), that's (old teacher's name), he used to teach the classes I teach now." so I said "Hi! Nice to meet you! I'm pretty sure both of my older brothers had you, (Oldest brother name), (Older brother name)." The old teacher was like "Oh, yeah I wouldn't remember." so I was like "Oh okay, understandable, it was at least 7 years ago."

But then Mr S said "(My name), do you have the file from your most recent project? (referring to animation)" so I was like "Yeah, I'll pull it up right now." so I did, and I showed off my models, explained what the project was, and the old teacher thought it was pretty cool. Then Mr S said "Pretty good, eh?" (I'm Canadian lol) and the old teacher said "Yeah" and nodded, I said "Thank you!". (I gotta mention, Mr S looked so proud of me like showing me off to the other teacher, like he's actually proud of me and shows me off to others 😭)

So, his and Mr S' conversation carried for a bit, and then the old teacher headed out. I then said "Wow, it was cool to finally meet him, I heard about him from my brothers." and Mr S said "Oh yeah? Well, that was him, in the flesh! So, the year he left to (other school name) was the year I started teaching here, and I took all the classes he used to teach, which is why I taught tech design, coding and animation, and math." I was really fascinated and was like "Oh wow, really? That makes sense." and was just looking at him for a while.

Then I went back to doing my work and talked a bit with Bestie M while doing it, and making jokes of course, and when she messed up something she was saying and couldn't talk properly Mr S was like "What was that?" and started genuinely LOL fr. (Oml he's so adorable) so we started laughing harder. The thing is, our other friend was with us and was saying "I love ___" (Can't remember what it was) and then Bestie M said "Yeah, and she (referring to me) loves h-" and she cut herself off. THANK. GOD. SHE CUT HERSELF OFF. SHE ALMOST EXPOSED ME, ALMOST CONFESSED FOR ME, I WAS SO TERRIFIED AND I SAID "WOAH WOAH WOAH THERE, STOP RN" and we started laughing and I said "OH. MY. GOD. OHMYGOD M STOP." and then I said "Not. Another. Word. From. Your. Mouth. M." BUT THEN MR S STARTED LAUGHING A LITTLE BIT, LIKE HE WAS GIDDY OR EMBARRASSED OR SOMETHING AND HE WAS BLUSHING WHEN I LOOKED OVER AT HIM. I THINK HE CAUGHT ON. HELP. I GENUINELY THINK HE CAUGHT ON TO WHAT BESTIE M WAS ABOUT TO SAY. I'M DONE FOR. (I'll lyk if something happens related to that)

And then after a bit Mr S went to leave the room, so he locked the door, and then he looked directly at ME and said "Well, have a great weekend!" and I said "You too! Byeeee!" and he said his signature "See you later!". I love how he ALWAYS looks DIRECTLY at ME when he says goodbye or have a great weekend, and he always makes eye contact. I also noticed he was extra smiley today, even while he was doing some work on his computer.

Also, Bestie M said "Looks like I'm your wing woman now. You can't say I'm not your wing woman now, after that." and she laughed. It was so hilarious genuinely but I also appreciate that she's being my wing woman now.

[storiesforallfandoms]

assistant ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 1471

request?: no

description: when you start a new job as the assistant of a huge company, the ceo takes an interest in you

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing, harassing remarks

masterlist (one, two)

“And here is the main floor,” said the lady giving me a tour of Godfrey Industries. “This is where you’ll be doing most of your work, but it’s good to know the building in case Mr. Godfrey ever asks you to get something for him.”

“What’s he like?” I asked her. It was the first time my future employer had been mentioned and I had yet to meet him.

She paused a moment before turning to face me. She was suddenly the most serious she had been all day. “He can be a little short tempered sometimes. He has gone off on some of his employees sometimes. If he ever does to you, do not hesitate to come to me for it, alright?”

That sounded reassuring.

I followed her towards Mr. Godfrey’s office, my heart hammering against my chest.

“Mr. Godfrey?” she said as she knocked at the door. “Your new assistant is here.”

“Bring her in.”

She opened the door and nodded for me to go in first. I hoped neither one of them would see how bad my hands were shaking.

I was shocked to see how young he was. Of course, I knew Mr. Godfrey was no more than 21 years old and took over the family business right out of high school, but I didn’t expect someone so young and handsome to be sat behind that desk.

His blue eyes lifted from whatever he was writing and landed on me. I shuffled under his gaze, wondering what was running through his mind as he looked at me.

“Mr. Godfrey, this is (Y/F/N),” she introduced. “She’ll be working as your new assistant.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Godfrey,” I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible.

“Please, we’re basically the same age,” he said. “Call me Roman. Is it alright if I address you by your first name, too?”

I was so stunned that I could barley get my words out. “Y-Yes, that’s-that’s okay.”

He smiled at me and I felt like my whole body would melt into the floor.

“It’s nice to meet you (Y/N). I can’t wait to work together.”

~~~~~~

The first few days were nothing exciting, mainly running a few errands for Roman. We were rarely ever alone together, which I was a little disappointed by. I knew it was wrong to have these sort of thoughts about my boss, but I couldn’t help it. He was so handsome and charming.

I was at my desk secretly scrolling through my phone when the intercom chimed, signaling Roman was about to speak.

“(Y/N), can you bring the papers regarding the mill in for me?”

“Right away Roman.”

I grabbed the file labelled Godfrey Industries Mill and brought it down to the conference room where I knew Roman was in a meeting.

The moment I walked in I froze again. There were so many official looking business men sat around the table, now they were all looking at me. I smiled awkwardly before crossing the room to pass the file to Roman.

“Thank you (Y/N),” he said as he took it.

“New assistant, Roman?” one of the men asked.

“Yeah, she just started,” Roman responded, barley regarding the man who spoke.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Roman glared briefly at him before saying, “(Y/N), these are some of my business partners.”

I smiled at them and shuffled uncomfortably when I noticed how they were looking at me. I had heard the jokes about business men and their assistants, but I never believed them. That would be a massive HR issue, right?

But the way these men were looking at me...I wanted to shrink behind Roman for protection.

“I bet you're having a fantastic time with her,” another man commented. “You’ve broken her in already, right Rom?”

“The innocent ones are always the best in the sack,” another added.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as they all laughed. I was willing myself to move, but I was stuck in place.

The sound of Roman’s hands slamming down on the desk caused me to jump as he stood from his seat. His face was blood red and he looked ready to explode.

“Get the fuck out,” he hissed.

“What?” one of the men questioned.

“I said get the fuck out! All of you!” For good measure, he threw the file at the first man who spoke, narrowly avoiding his face. “Forget the fucking mill deal, forget any fucking deal. I’m not doing business with you disgusting excuse for men anymore!”

They were all shocked, but knew better than to fight against Roman. They all left, grumbling to themselves and calling Roman a handful of names.

We were left alone. Roman sat back down, running his hands through his hair.

“Do..do you want me to...?” I started, gesturing towards the papers that had scattered from the thrown file.

“No,” he responded, his voice softer now. “I’ll take care of it. You take a break, a prolonged one if you need.”

I nodded and quickly left the room, hoping all the business men had left the building entirely as I raced for the nearest bathroom to hide for a while.

~~~~~~

I was on my own in the lobby area when a cup of coffee and a picture perfect sprinkled donut was placed in front of me. I looked up from my computer to see Roman sipping from his own cup, his breathtaking eyes gazing down at me.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he said. “I didn’t check before I got both of those for you.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, taking the cup and the donut. “I still had some stuff I needed to  do, I couldn’t go home early.”

“I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to.”

I took a sip of my coffee, not wanting to respond. Truthfully, I had thrown myself so heavily into my work to keep the disgusting words said by Roman’s business partners out of my head.

I had never been spoken to in such a way before. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I’d been spoken to in such a way, but it still made me feel dirty and wrong when I thought about it. Like I was nothing more than some eye candy for business men who were old enough to be my father (except for Roman).

Roman continued to lean against the desk, looking down at me as I diverted my attention back to my computer.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said. “Those fuckers are a little too...stereotypical.”

I shook my head, trying to downplay my feelings on the situation. “It’s alright. I appreciate you standing up for me, but I’m sorry if it ruins your business relations or whatever.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I could give less of a fuck. They're all assholes anyways. They only use me for money and power for their bullshit projects. And what they did to you was far from alright. It was wrong, and I hope you know I’m not going to tolerate you being treated like that. Not now, not ever.”

I nodded and took another sip of my coffee, unsure as to what else to say. I was shocked that the situation had made Roman so angry. I mean, I was glad people treating me so poorly made him upset and he wasn’t about to sweep this under the rug, but to cut business ties just for me? I was still trying to figure that part out.

Silence fell over us again and I wondered how long Roman would be stood there watching me. Not that I really minded. This was the first time we had been alone.

“Listen,” he said, “this may be incredibly inappropriate to ask, but I’d love to take you out for dinner some time.”

I looked up at him in shock. “Like...like a date?”

“Or a work dinner, whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

I didn’t have to think about my answer, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager, so I thought for a moment before responding, “I’d like that.”

Roman smiled back at me. “Okay. You know my schedule, you can pick a time and a date that’s best for you.”

He turned to leave before pausing and turning back to me. “Just to be clear, are you saying you’d like it as a date or as a work dinner.”

I smiled smugly at him and responded, “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, amused, before walking back to his office. When I was sure he was gone, I did a quick dance of excitement in my chair before turning my full attention back to my work.

[tenderlyrenjun]

[9:15 am]

(feat. Mark)

You barge into Renjun’s private study, pushing the classificatory Azure Dragon emblem on the push plate so violently that the doors clammor deafeningly against the walls they hit. The force, even quicker, drives the doors to shut before the head guard, Mark, can follow you in, even with his vampiric speed. Surprisingly, the doors remain intact, likely due to the fiberglass material. But Mark still enters, half a second after you, bowing apologetically to Renjun who reads a sales and revenue report.

“What the hell is this?” you demand, waving a letter with Jaemin’s government seal stamped prominently contrasted against the black-inked characters and tinted white parchment.

Renjun gives you a momentary look until returning to his deep red wine and business report. And neither of you spare a glance at Mark, who immediately assesses the entire room, looking underneath the desk, leaning against the wall to scan the garden outside through the curtains, taking out his ear piece to listen for the slightest of movements, etc. etc. 

“I don’t know,” Renjun answers, eyes glossing over the drop in profit, trying to figure out where it comes from.

Every couple of decades, the two of you obtain successive internships at your various companies, under the guise of nepotism, usually to oversee any errors or the general income. And with Renjun having suggested attending college a few months back, this internship with your tech company seemed to just fit the whole college students persona, particularly your A accompanying that computer class Renjun asked you to take. Plus, he wanted to review why the stocks have been going down, especially since your companies are privately owned and you two, the owners, are well-hidden from the public. The only people, prior to your new reemergence into the 21st century, who saw you were other ancient vampires and the members of your coven - Kun, Aurora, Mark, Jiu, Woosung, in addition to the security detail turned and operated by Mark.

“It’s Jaemin’s signature,” you state obviously, crinkling the parchment louder in the air before pulling it in front of you again to reread the message.

“Mhmm,” Renjun hums, already having gathered that, simultaneous with Mark’s reaction: a whispered Oh.

Both you and Renjun turn to Mark, who finished surveying the area. Your vampire hearings amplified the exclamation, so you two raise matching eyebrows. 

“Sorry,” Mark excuses himself formally, then resumes the composure of a head guard again: shoulders squared, head up, position alert. He stares blankly at the wall but receives challenging stares ordering a real answer. “I just,” he concedes to his founders, “thought it was something more zealous, or, even, outrageous, like an ex-lover or something.”

You eyebrow raises further, and Renjun closes his file, setting his feet firmly on the ground. It is ... entertaining when vampires make passing comments about your intense relationship - even Jaemin mentioned that he had not seen either of you separated in all 700 years that you three have been friends. Scarcely anyone knows about Renjun’s earlier indiscretion, and you would like to keep it this way, especially if the future unfolds as Doyoung’s right hand predicts it to. The thought paints an intense stare on your face that almost scares Mark.

“We’re both two and a half millennia old,” Renjun reveals, something he rarely admits to people and something that Mark largely underestimated, given by the way his eyes widen and body stiffens. Renjun turns to you, smirking. “Do people always assume that we are first loves?” You glare at him, not wanting to answer, especially after the incident Mark unintentionally brought up. Renjun drops the corners of his lips, right, then reclines in his chaise longue, resuming his casual position crossing his ankle over his knee. “Not that it matters, of course, because you are my only love.”

“And you are my last,” you respond equally. 

“What did Jaemin sign?” Mark interjects, not wanting to be caught in yet another lover’s ... to be honest, he cannot describe the intensity; he just knows that he does not want to be in the middle of it again.

“A declaration of war,” you announce, tossing the opened envelope into Renjun’s lap. 

Renjun slowly sits up again, then closes his file and chugs the last of his blood, in case of a surprise attack. Younger vampires ... they tend to be more dramatic, and he would not hold it against them if they waited for this exact moment to make a move and jump all three of you at once. So, he needs the last of the blood to have more than enough strength to fight them off.

“Against who though?” Mark asks, making sure to emphasize his presence. Sometimes, you and Renjun slip into that fabled telepathy supposedly shared by Mates (it is fake; you two just know each other well), and as head guard, he needs the information to make a protection plan for the entire coven.

But to his surprise, you answer, “I don’t know,” and rub your forehead. You walk toward Renjun, rereading the message over his shoulder. “Some faction in North America, I assume, based on all the tensions both politically and economically - what with one Lee clans slaughtering an entire town to occupy it.” You sigh, then realize how callous the sentence sounded and look up at Mark, who shared that surname in his mortal life. “Sorry, Mark.”

“Not a problem,” he amends, “Likely no relation.” He triangulates in front of Renjun to watch your back in case a vampire appears from the large mirror at your blind spot. “Was it one of the newer factions?”

Still standing, you exhale loudly through your entire chest (to give yourself a pause to think, to remember), then step a bit further from Renjun, mimicking Mark’s protocol: creating a triangle position amongst the three of you. You would honestly love to sit with Renjun, like all those nights lounging on a couch, studying or watching TV, but the both of you need to be as alert as Mark always is, if not more; the responsibility of protecting your newly rebuilt coven weighing heavily. It took centuries after the last war just to be able to trust other vampires into your hours, and even more decades to do extremely thorough background checks on those who live with you now. At the beginning of the war, assassins infiltrated your manor at your weakest point and Renjun had to rescue you from Yeon’s kidnapping and extortion attempt (possibly even murder, if Renjun had been too late). That was when you lost Xiaojun, Mark’s predecessor who was sire bonded to you. Then, more spies, from all sides, from all covens, absolutely decimated your numbers until only you and Renjun remained. Renjun, too, barely managed during the war, to keep you safe. Luckily, his special compulsion ability was able to order vampires away, undermining their sire bonds to defy their traitorous leaders. He currently keeps this gift secret, only using it when necessary (or as a party trick with his closest friends), though it does still come out subconsciously, hence why his first impressions are always so great.

You sigh again. “Newer vampires don’t know just how many of us there are, or how long we have been around. Aurora is barely 35, and prior to joining us, she was not aware of Jaemin or the Laws. So, of course they have to be a new faction. An arrogant new faction, likely affiliated with one of the Italian clans who want ultimate power again and for the capital to return to Volterra [Italy] again.”

“Rumor has it that Jaemin’s Mate even returned to Korea after drifting through North America,” Renjun gossips. You are always surprised to hear about Jaemin’s Mate, because while he has not been off the compound in 90 years, his Mate is scarcely ever with him. It reminds you how horrible that century without Renjun was; you cannot fathom wanting to be separated for more than a few days. “Perhaps there is some benefit to his Mate having been gone; Jaemin might have more to say than what he send.”

“What did Jaemin want?” Mark asks, as the only person in the room who has not read the letter.

“For us to pledge allegiance,” Renjun answers before you do, also recalling that darkest time when you perfected your poison techniques on treasonists. He deadpans and crumples the letter into a ball, feeling your anger rise with Jaemin’s words. You give Renjun a look, Jaemin cannnot be serious, right? But Renjun shakes his head, unsure; Jaemin is a fan of loyalty, even more than you, so neither of you know what this invitation means - you will have to schedule another meeting with him.

“Does he not remember our commitment to neutrality?” you seethe, balling your hands into fists like the ball, shaking your head with Renjun but in disbelief. 

“Does he want to absorb us as well?” Mark asks more realitistcally than you. “Our vampires are highly trained and over half possess special abilities, so -”

“Jaemin is not Doyoung,” you seethe again, interrupting Mark before he can accuse Jaemin of one of the highest crimes (passed into law by Jaemin himself): stalking vampires into a coven. It rose into law after one New Year in the early 19th century when too many newly turned 20-year olds emerged as vampires. Covens grew; entire high school classrooms slaughtered; police stations were at an all time high for corruption as leaders bribed them to turn the other way. The law had been coming for a long time, especially since this is how Doyoung acquired all of his member. Doyoung only recruited leaders with special abilities; hence his left hand atrium, a vampire with subjective precognition born under a chancellor following the Dark Ages, and his right hand (Jeno) atrium, a prince, a former East Palace in the years preceding the Dark Ages, with the ability to recognize any relationship and induce one, though only if he is present. But that holiday was the final deciding factor.

“No,” Renjun agrees, his voice rising to command the room. “But do not forget, love. We wanted Doyoung to rule as well.” You share a lot of qualities with Doyoung, hence why you are old friends, but Jaemin is the current leader and a good one at that too.

“Not at the cost of war.”

“So what do we do?” Mark asks, looking between the two of you for a direction before he creates a plan. “How do we avoid the war?”

Renjun glances at the letter. Jaemin was very firm and strict. So he sighs, resigning in doubt.

“We don’t.”

[unfunny-quips]

Shouta had been sized up before. 

Many times during his life, in fact. As a student, as a hero, as a teacher. He’d always met the assessments with the same steady, unflinching gaze of his own. He knew his capabilities, and no amount of side eye or stare down would make him think twice.

That did not mean he was in any way prepared for Midoriya Inko. 

Nezdu’s assistant - soft spoken, unassuming, and sweet - had a way of making her scrutinizing gaze seem gentle as it swept over him. Her sharp eyes taking in every detail, weighing and measuring every fact she gathered. She always had a bright smile and a kind word, a gentle hand to guide when needed. And yet, somehow, she was one of the very, very few people Shouta had ever met that made him nervous.

It shouldn’t have been surprising, he supposed. For all the things he had faced down in his career, he had never faced true, unwavering evil the way she had. The green haired woman had been married to the single most dangerous man in Japan - very possibly the world - and had come out of the experience with her heart of gold intact. 

An impressive enough feat on its own merit. That she had managed to pull one over on that villain - gathering up her sons and a damning amount of information and sweeping them away to safety before All For One had even a chance to understand what was happening - that was terrifying. She’d stormed the police, stared down the Symbol of Peace himself, and forced the Hero Commision themselves to give her a deal placing her family in the highest amount of security available. 

Most terrifying of all, she had impressed Nezdu.

The woman was a force of nature and Shouta was smart enough to know he wouldn’t survive the storm if it’s ire was turned on him.

Midoriya herself, dressed disarmingly in a smart grey suit with a teal blouse, finally brought her gaze to meet his and offered him one of her cheerful grins. It was warm and soft, the kind of thing mothers gave he supposed, not that he had a terrible lot of familiarity with that. The gentleness of the smile did not make him forget the steel of her spine or how she could make that smile turn predatory when the need arose.

“Aizawa-San, it’s lovely to see you today!”  She greeted him, standing from her desk - immaculate and clearly organized to the height of perfection - and rounding it to greet him. 

He should have anticipated the crushing hug she’d pulled him into, but as always her unwavering cheerfulness had sent him off balance and she’d pressed her advantage before he could regain his senses. She did it with all the staff, with the exception of All Might and Nezdu. Aizawa suspected All Might’s great height - even in his skeletal form - prevented her from pulling him in for one of her crushing hugs. Nezdu, for his part, was a fellow apex predator and therefore exempt from such treatment.

He wished, not for the first time, that Zashi had come with him. He sometimes was able to hide behind the other man when Midoriya Inko started hugging. Sometimes. 

Then again, she’d sometimes just sweep the both of them up at once, and Zashi took it as an invitation for a group hug, trapping Shouta entirely.

“Midoriya-San.” He awkwardly greeted when she’d released him. She ignored his discomfort, and moved back towards her desk where a stack of papers waited.

“You’re just in time, I just finished compiling the pre-approved applications for the transfers. Oh!” She paused, turning away from her desk and darting through the door just off her office to the small kitchenette hidden there. He blinked after her, feeling bewildered, and watched as she moved to pull two bentos from the fridge. “I noticed your schedule today didn’t allow for lunch.” She told him, shoving one of the bentos into his hands. “So I thought we could enjoy a meal while we reviewed everything.”

He barely managed not to fumble the container as she dropped it in his hands, whisking off to sit at her desk before he could even think of refusing. He blinked after her, then turned to the bento. The fabric it had been tied into was a soft blue and printed with adorable chibi versions of Hizashi in fully hero gear. It was adorable and mildly terrifying to think she had noticed something in Shouta he thought he’d locked down and hidden away years ago.

“You didn’t have to, I have -” Any protest he might have made died the moment he glanced up and saw the sharp look in her eyes. She was still smiling, but there was a certain gleam of warning in her gaze as she looked at him.

“Protein pouches are not an appropriate substitute for a proper meal.” Midoriya said with the kind of finality that left no room for argument. Not that there would be any. Shouta certainly wasn’t going to be fool enough to pick a fight he knew he couldn’t win - more than once, at least. Especially not when she had that soft, warning expression pointed at him.

Instead he clamped his mouth shut and took the seat across from her, dutifully untying the knot in the colorful bento wrapping at her warning glance. Inside he found onigiri made to look like cats tucked in with a variety of protein rich, healthy foods and some apple slices cut to look like bunnies. 

It was adorable. 

How she managed to find time to make him something so elaborate and cute while balancing care for Izuku and Tenko, the running of the school and keeping up with Nezu while also being constantly vigilant for her villainous estranged husband was beyond him.

“Now there were a number of transfer requests made to get into 1-A” Midoriya began, glancing over the documents on her computer after she had ensured that Shouta was indeed eating the food she’d given him. “About two hundred total. Most of them were sifted out due to grades and overall performance which brought it down to sixty-two. From there we accounted for teacher evaluation to whittle it down to a more reasonable seventeen.”

She pulled up a list, tilting her screen to better show him the names and pictures of seventeen promising first years. Hitoshi, as expected, had made it through the initial two stages of the transfer process. Just two more stages to go.

“Interviews have been scheduled to speak to their classmates, friends and family. Nezdu suspects will have only seven or eight remaining afterward those have been conducted.” Midoriya explained, casting another warning glance at Shouta to ensure he was still eating the lunch she’d prepared for him. He dutifully began digging into a Tsukune. Satisfied, Inko unwrapped her own bento and allowed Shouta to review the short bios of the students as she ate her own lunch.

Each student he reviewed gave the impression of a serious hero course candidate. A class full of good students who hadn’t made the cut initially due to a system biased against their quirks. Nezdu expected nearly ten of them wouldn’t make the interview process, and Shouta didn’t doubt the principal’s estimate, he was rarely wrong about such things. Usually there were only three or four remaining after the interviews, it was an unusually adept group that year it seemed.

After the interviews would be the practicals, followed by the faculty review of those remaining. Despite his personal interest, Nezdu had permitted him to remain on the faculty board to judge the students, confident in Shouta’s ability to remain objective. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Midorya said, breaking him from his thoughts. He watched as she set her lunch to the side and turned her attention to one of her desk drawers. “Izuku gave this to me to pass along to you. He was worried he wouldn’t have the chance otherwise with midterms coming up.” A plain file folder was held out to him, innocent looking.

Shouta squinted at it suspiciously. “He could have brought it in during my office hours.” He said, reaching for it anyway. He’d started calling Midoriya Izuku Problem Child in the first couple days of class, but in no way was the boy actually a troublemaker. Only over eager and overpowered with no sense of self protection. He was a good student, though, and a good kid from everything he’d seen and everything Hitoshi had told him. Not one he’d expect to use a go between for passing notes on to his teachers.

Midoirya Inko gave one of those knowing smiles that put Shouta’s hair on end. “I think he wanted to avoid taking any of your time that could go to other students for something that isn’t related to his own school work.”

Shouta blinked at that, then flipped the folder open and blinked again.

“Are these -?”

“Recommendation letters, yes.” Midoriya said, smile growing bright at Shouta’s bewildered expression. “Hitoshi-kun mentioned they’d help him during his application for the hero course so Izuku got some put together for him. I wrote one of my own, and All Might was similarly happy to make a recommendation based on what he’s seen of Hitoshi’s excellent character.”

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 17

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 17

------

The altercation with three footballers had several outcomes. First, Marinette was no longer treated as someone weak. Quite the opposite. The smarter part of the school now had a healthy dose of respect for the small french girl when they saw the camera recording Chloé ‘leaked’. The more sport-inclined part of the faculty was devastated by the loss of the three star players, for which they blamed Marinette. 

Erica washed her hands about the whole incident, declaring that the poor souls must’ve just rashly reacted to the gossip going around the school. It still hurt her position a bit. Chloé and Allegra masterfully countered any of her minor lies and started spreading gossip about the head cheerleader instead. It was turning into a cold war, where neither side could get any advantage over the other for long. 

The initial background search turned clean on both of them. Lila’s mother was an orphan, raised in one of the covenants in the mountains before studying law and politology. She now headed the French Embassy, after previously working in Germany, Belgium, and Spain. Lila’s father was a mystery and his name was not given at any point. The Italian girl often changed schools. Usually, she didn’t stay even one semester there. Lack of any family and trusted friends made her move around with her mother often. Boarding schools were too expensive for a then-starting diplomat. At some point, Lila started to thrive in each new school. Her files were nothing but praise since then. 

Erica Layton was born Erica Blake, then Boyle when her mother married a wealthy CEO. Before, she ran a smaller Blake Industry, which merged with Boyle enterprises after the wedding. When Mr. Boyle was shot during one of the Two-face’s robberies, Erica’s mother started to date again. Until last summer, when she married a star baseball player, Lance Layton. The business was clean-ish and there was nothing that could be used against them really. There were some cases of inner nepotism and a bit of discrimination, but it wasn’t even worth a real investigation. Erica herself was truly a mean character, but her good looks, influential family, and good grades made her the “Gotham Academy Golden Princess.”

Damian wanted to get his vengeance. He tried hacking, but Barbara stopped him. It wasn’t as if anything he got that way could’ve been used against her and forging evidence was wrong, and would only hurt them in the long run. Marinette stopped him from going after them as Black Cat, which only agitated him further. He hated the feeling of powerlessness. Well, he loved Marinette more so he wouldn’t go against her orders. 

Sabine also did her best, but she was similarly blocked by Barbara, who went as far as to lock the Bat-computer. A woman of many skills, Sabine was still unable to beat Oracle at hacking. She did make sure to always be available and near the school to intervene if any of the teachers tried to punish Mari unfairly. She was doing the same for Chloé, who she slowly came to treat as her child too, just like Cassandra. 

Allegra tried to get her mother involved, but Catherine Hamilton-Kane was a woman of high morals and would not use her influence to fight dirty games. “That’s how corruption took seed,” she declared. And Gotham Academy, as a private school, was beyond her reach anyway. It still gave Allegra enough power to at least counter Erica and her mother, who was at best negligent and at worst co-operating with her daughter. 

All in all, Marinette and Chloé settled into some form of routine. The school was much better than Françoise Dupont. It was bigger, which meant Lila had a harder time setting up her court. Erica’s power also suffered a major hit when the ‘outcasts’, as the blonde witch called them, took a bit more active role in the events going around. Claude, who was one of the lead actors in the theatre club made sure that no one aligned with Lila or Erica could join. Felix started to slowly push Erica from politics, engaging in subtle games at every front. Even Jon helped by taking over the school newspaper. The guy that was running it previously happily handed over the reins. 

There were few minor dramas at school, like the Witch Club, haunting at the theatre, or the weird carnival. Damian and Marinette didn’t pay it much attention. Claude dealt with the ghost quite easily and met Katherine Karlo, who became his favorite actress ever since. Professor Trent was against including her, but when the usually cheery boy threatened him to quit and take over half of the crew, the discussion was over rather swiftly.

Of course, akumas didn’t make it easier. In fact, they were the biggest holdback. Whenever Chloé and Damian did something too drastic, Lila, Erica, or someone associated with them would become an akuma and then their work was in ruin. Every akuma on their side would earn them ‘pity points’ and serve as ammunition against the Waynes’ front. 

The investigation proved fruitless. Sure, akumas could’ve been traced, but they actually made sure to never come from the same spot. Sometimes, it was a rundown building, other times a flat over a crowded restaurant; a hotel; a public toilet at the bus station. Adrien was moving and making sure not to fall for what got his father. They had no idea how he could be so stealthy. The cameras never saw anyone even similar to him at any of those places. Sabine was now running the rooftops as Shadowbat, not wanting the press to associate the Miraculous team with Batfamily too much for now. She had been using her old assassin suit (still fitting perfectly) with a bat logo on her chest as her outfit. She mostly just worked with Cass. Black Bat and Shadowbat. They were probably most feared of all dynamic duos in Gotham. Silent, ruthless, precise, undefeated.

Of course, peace couldn’t really last forever. About six weeks since Christmas, when Marinette’s birthday was closing in, the first real hiccup appeared. 

--------------

Just before lunch, Marinette’s phone vibrated, as well as several other people’s in the class. When the bell rang, she went to check it. From past experience, she knew that mass messages to students were usually bad. It had Erica and Lila plastered all over it. It was a link to the tabloid article. It opened with a photo of Damian and Allegra, sitting in a coffee shop and drinking coffee. She only read a bit of the content, far enough to reach the first quote of GA student, before storming out. People were giving her pitying looks as she walked toward the cafeteria. She didn’t want to do anything rash until she spoke to Chloé and Allegra. That was a new kind of low for the Mean Girls front. They even dared to attach a message of fake condolences to Marinette. 

Unknowingly, the Bluenette was channeling Damian the whole way, making people jump out of her path. Nobody ever saw the Angel (not that anyone would call her that within Damian’s hearing range, or where one of his multiple informants could inform him) so angry. Suddenly, everyone remembered how she took three football players in less than twenty seconds without getting more than a light bruise on her neck. 

The cafeteria was completely silent the moment she entered. Everyone expected her to rage at Damian, who was waiting next to the doors to intercept her immediately. To their utter and infinite surprise, she instead grabbed his hand into hers and squeezed tightly. A small smile made its way on her face and Damian smirked too. Nobody (but the ‘outcasts’) had any idea what that was about. Didn’t he cheat on her recently, or for a long time?

The two walked past the baffled crowd toward where Allegra and Chloé sat, already waiting for them. There were no words exchanged between the four, but the two blondes nodded like it was a signal. 

Marinette and Damian jumped onto the table in a synchronized show of grace and agility. Everyone stared at them. 

“Hi!” Marinette smiled. Next to her, her boyfriend was glaring at certain people in the crowd. “First, I wanted to thank all of you who actually meant it when they gave me their condolences. You had good intentions, even if they were completely misplaced.”

“Tt. I did not cheat on my Habibti. Not with anyone, and especially not with my cousin!” Damian growled at the silent cafeteria. They didn’t dare to respond vocally, but some lowered their heads in shame. While the relation between Bruce Wayne and Mayor Kane was not that well-known, they didn’t hide the connection. “The first cousin once removed to be precise.”

“Point is, the article is full of fake news and we’ll be dealing with it later. Still, I appreciate your effort.” She smiled at those who weren’t angry. Then, her face turned to the cold mask and she channeled Damian. “Now onto those who mocked us or tried to use it to break me and Damian apart. It won’t work. Stop. Don’t. I can’t see any situation where we would break up, and even then, there is no chance either of us would lower ourselves to dating any of you. I trust Damian with my life. I’m his and he’s mine!” She declared. 

“I’m hers and she’s mine.” Damian echoed. They raised their joint hands before turning to one another and sharing a quick kiss. Many people cooed at the romanticism of the scene. 

Erica and Lila were on the verge of a stroke. This was harder than either anticipated and they were, in fact, slowly losing more than they gained. 

A black butterfly entered through the window behind Marinette. As soon as she saw it, she acted without thinking and grabbed it. Everyone looked at her in panic. They saw the muscles in her forearm tighten and after a short moment a bit of some dark substance leaked through her fingers. When she opened her hand, the butterfly was turned into a gooey mess.

“Not today, Hawkass Junior.” She seethed. Then, she left to clean her hand with Allegra and Chloé following her. She rarely was left entirely alone, especially at school. As they walked, people gave her a loud applause. 

--------

“Why did it not work!?” Adrien raged in his hideout. Next to him, Nooroo was floating with his head bowed. 

“She… she touched it only with her skin. There was nothing to akumatize… master.” The little creature added, forced by the magic of the brooch. 

“But why didn’t the akuma pass through her fingers!?” The hero-turned-villain seethed.

“She… She damaged it before it could…”

“I paid a handsome sum of money to have that article published! It was supposed to either break them up or give me my own Scarlet Moth!” Adrien stomped around his hideout. “Now it’s all for naught! I want their Miraculouses! I want my family back!”

Another figure walked from behind him and pulled him into a hug. In the darkness, the only visible details were her silhouette and a predatory smile on her face. 

“Don’t worry. We will get what we want soon enough.”

“Did you decipher it?”

“Almost. There are several symbols on it that I have no idea what they mean.”

“Hm… I think I might have an akuma just for the occasion. It will require some setting-up though.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it. Meanwhile…” She said, her grin widening

“No. Get out of here, Witch.” He snapped.

“Spoilsport.” She muttered and walked away. Adrien felt anger bubbling inside him. Someone was so getting akumatized that day.

-------

Masterlist // Next

[lils-writes-stuff]

Spinning Wheels

Spencer Reid x reader

Best Years Season 2 part three | part two | part one | season one

summary: a local case hits a nerve with the reader

warning: normal criminal minds things, angst, description of shooting, yk fun stuff

A/N: based on season 8 episode 8; *chanting* angry reader, angry reader!

“Penelope,” Y/N sang as she entered the woman’s bat cave. She carried a coffee in each hand, one for her and one for Penelope. “I bring you a present.” 

 “Oh my gosh, you’re so sweet!” Penelope gushed as she grabbed the coffee from her hand. She pulled the lid off to look inside the cup. “This is my favorite, oh my gosh, you know I-”

 She looked up at Y/N to see her sheepish smile. She only brought Penelope her favorite, kind of expensive coffee, when she wanted something. 

 “No.” 

 “You don’t even know what I want!” 

 “I know that it’s big enough for you to bring me my favorite,” Penelope set the cup down and began typing on her computer. 

 “Garcia, I’m desperate,” Y/N admitted. She sat on the small open area on Penelope’s desk. “I can’t get anything out of JJ on what Spencer’s been doing up here at seven when we don’t have to be here ‘till nine. So I was hoping you can work some of your Garcia Magic and...” 

 Penelope stopped her typing, she knew exactly what Spencer had been doing. 

 Y/N noticed how Penelope stopped typing. “Oh my god, you know!” 

 “No, I don’t,” she lied. “Okay, well I know kind of what he’s doing, but I can’t tell you.” 

 Y/N knew she could get somewhere with Penelope, she was terrible at keeping secrets. 

 “Penelope,” Y/N drug out the name in a pleading tone. 

 “Uh-ah, my lips are sealed.” She ran her finger across her lips as if she was zipping them.

 Y/N gave her a pout and some puppy dog eyes, but Penelope turned away and stuck her nose up in the air. She was determined to not break and ruin Spencer’s plan. 

 Y/N sighed, if Penelope was going to be this persistent, then she wouldn’t get it all out of her. 

 “Fine, then can I admit something to you?” 

 Penelope turned to her, hearing her serious and almost shy tone. 

 “Of course.” 

 “I, um, I bought him a ring,” Y/N confessed, wringing her hands together like she normally did when she was nervous. 

 Penelope gasped and a gigantic smile formed on her face. “You did!?” 

 “Yeah, I did, here-” she reached for her purse she set on the desk behind them- “I bought it about a week ago.” 

 She pulled out the grey box and revealed the simple gold band on the inside. 

 Penelope, extremely excited, grabbed the box with shaking hands. “Oh my gosh, Y/N!” 

 “Is it weird? I know it’s not normal for a girl to propose-” 

 “It’s not weird at all, I think it’s a great idea,” Penelope interrupted to clear her doubt. “If he doesn’t do it-” 

 She stopped and cut herself off, almost revealing the secret she had been trying so hard to keep. 

 “If he doesn’t accept it, then he’s a total loser,” Penelope stammered as she tried to correct her words. 

 Y/N laughed at her phrasing, and Penelope laughed too, glad she didn’t think anything of her almost slip up. 

 “I also got, um, I got our initials engraved on the inside,” Y/N pointed to the small initials on the inside of the band. 

 “Y/N…” Penelope sighed and took the ring out of her fingers to look at it. “You are so amazing, Spencer will love it.” 

 Y/N sighed in relief, she needed to hear that. The two kept talking and Penelope was trying to give her some ideas of when to ask him. 

 “Does anyone else know?” Penelope asked, handing the ring back to Y/N. 

 “Just my mom and London,” Y/N answered. “London actually helped me pick out the ring, we-”

 She stopped herself when her eyes caught the TV.

 “Penelope,” Y/N hit the woman’s shoulder to get her to turn around. 

 “What?” 

 They both stared at the TV in horror. The headline read “High School Bus Is Taken Hostage”. One cue, Penelope began to get alerts and texts signaling that they have a case. 

---------------

 “What we have is a school bus abduction which accrued at approximately 1 P.M. this afternoon. What we know is there twenty-four students on board, along with the driver and a monitor,” Y/N said to the small group of detectives that sat in front of her, JJ, and Spencer.   

“The GPS appears to have been disabled, the last known ping was a little over two hours ago,” Spencer added. 

 “Highway patrol has traced the route it was last traveling but has found no signs of any accidents,” Y/N continued on their knowledge of the situation. “We also have helicopters and ground units in the D.C. area working local search and rescue. Which means we’re likely dealing with more than one unsub.” 

 “We’ve attempted to contact everyone on board, but so far all calls have gone unanswered,” Spencer said. 

 “But we can confirm that the students dropped off at the first two stops have been accounted for,” JJ added, shedding some hope on the gloomy situation. 

 “The average school bus holds approximately eighty gallons of diesel fuel, making it possible for them to travel up to 550 miles on a single tank,” Spencer explained, his hands moving as he spoke each word. 

 “Which is why we believe they’re still within a 200-mile radius,” Y/N closed as she nodded to the detectives. 

 “The SUVs are outside and we’ll set up our command post at central high,” Hotch said as he rushed past and to the elevators. 

 Spencer, Y/N, and JJ all glanced at each other, giving a look all the same. Silently saying, ‘This is gonna be a long day’.

 They quickly made it down to the front of the building and into the SUVs.

 On the drive to the high school, the sirens were on as they tried to make it there as fast as possible. 

 “Okay, thanks,” Penelope hung up her phone. “Local P.D. says they just found a backpack full of the kids’ cell phones half a mile from the second bus stop.” 

 “Disarming the GPS, disposing of cell phones, makes it feel less random and more premeditated,” Y/N said as she looked back at Penelope from her seat upfront. 

 “There were seven other buses from different schools on their route. Why target this particular bus?” Spencer said as he tried to dive into the minds of the unsub. 

 “Maybe a group of kids got together to pull this off?” Y/N posed. 

 “Waited for their friends to get off at an earlier stop, then made their move,” Spencer said as he dove more into Y/N’s theory. 

 “Okay, I’m checking school disciplinary records to see if I can find any recent suspensions.” Penelope pulled out her tablet and began searching. 

 “It could be about a specific target and the other kids just got in the way,” Hotch added his own thoughts in. 

 Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket as it rang. “Hey, Blake you’re on speaker.” 

 “Uh, I’ve been looking over the personnel files of the bus driver, Roy Webster, something isn’t adding up,” Blake said over the phone. 

 “What did you find?” Spencer’s voice spoke up from his backseat spot behind Y/N. 

 “Over the past three years, Webster had several altercations with students, but was never formally reprimanded,” Blake answered.

 “It sounds like the school hasn’t told us the whole story,” Rossi’s voice was heard over the phone. 

 “We know how disrespectful some teenagers can be, maybe he snapped,” Derek’s voice was heard next as he posed his thoughts.

 “It could be payback for years of abuse,” JJ’s voice said next. 

 “What about the woman who was on the bus?” Spencer asked. 

 “That would be Carol Roberts, a retired teacher, assigned to monitor Webster’s bus six months ago,” Kevin Lynch’s voice said. 

 “What’s that about?” Rossi questioned. 

 “I took a bus all through high school, we never had a monitor,” Kevin said as he didn’t know the formal answer to the question. 

 “Makes you wonder who she was there to keep an eye on-- the kids or Webster?” Derek posed. 

-----------  

 Y/N had sat through many family interviews before, comforting them after a loved one had been murdered or taken. She had done it plenty of times to know what words to use, how to act depending on the family, she was trained for it. 

 This though was a whole new level.

 Her chest felt heavy as she listened to the mother explain how her son was a good kid and how it was just him and her. She didn’t know why this one particular interview was taking so much out of her. It felt emotionally draining to watch this mother cry over her young son named Billy. Maybe it was because she could relate to it.

 After her older brother died and her father left, it was just her and her mom. She was around his age too when it happened. 

 Walking out of the classroom she had the interview in, she stalked into the closest bathroom she could find. Her hands pressed against the ceramic sink as she leaned on it to keep herself up. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the white surface tightly. She could feel her pulse course through her hands as it picked up. This was not the time to be emotional, so she didn’t let this moment last too long. 

  She took a couple of deep breaths, looked at herself in the mirror, and walked out of the bathroom.

 She had gotten past her brother dying, sure she missed him every day, but her grief had passed. When she thought about him it was wistful and happy, so she didn’t know why this was bothering her. 

 She tugged at the bottom of her maroon blazer, making sure it was straight after she opened the door of the bathroom. She took two steps out into the hallway, and glanced to the left and then to her right looking to see if anyone saw her walk out. After assessing she was alone, she let out another sigh and walked down the hall to the performance room. 

 “Y/N,” Derek called as he jogged down the hallway. 

 “What’s up, Morgan?” She asked as she turned to the man coming down the hall. 

 “We’ve got an address.” 

 The SUVs and squad cars turned up the dust as they parked in front of an old barn. The team hopped out of their respected cars, pulling out their guns as S.W.A.T. unloaded in front of them. 

 The team stood in anticipation as Hotch nodded for the captain to open the door. As the doors swung open, the S.W.A.T. team entered and walked around the school bus that was parked on the inside. 

 “Bus is all clear!” Derek yelled from the inside of the bus after checking it.

 Y/N followed Spencer as the two walked around the rest of the barn to check it, making sure it was clear and there was nothing else there. When they finished, they walked outside and met Blake who had just checked a shed. 

 The three holstered their guns as they walked over to the head detective on the case who nodded for them. 

 “Barn was registered to a Violet Burgin, she died a few months back. It's been abandoned ever since.” the Detective said as he approached them. 

 “Making this a perfect transfer point,” Y/N said as she glanced back at the barn. 

 Blake was about to say something, but she was stopped when the sound of the bloodhounds barking was heard. 

 “They found something,” Spencer said and took out his gun. The four of them along with some others in the immediate area ran towards the dogs.

 They approached a wooden door that was latched closed. The Detective placed his hand on the latch, waiting for the S.W.A.T. team member to give him his cue. When he nodded, the Detective pulled the latch and pushed the door open quickly. 

 “Please don’t hurt us,” a young girl said as they were met with the light from the outside.

 “It’s okay you guys are safe now,” Spencer said as he began to undo the bindings on their wrists.

 Y/N looked up and began counting the kids in the room as quickly as she could, but of course, Spencer beat her to it. 

 “There’s only fourteen here, we need to find the other ten,” Spencer looked back at Blake and Y/N who were still standing in the door. 

 Y/N gripped her gun tighter. She let out an agitated sigh and walked away from the room. 

------------ 

 The students ran to their parents as the doors to the cafeteria opened. Y/N sauntered in behind them, watching as the parents hugged their kids, grateful they were okay.

 JJ walked up next to her and sighed as they watched the families. 

 “Where’s Billy?” The brown hair woman who Y/N had interviewed earlier asked walking up to her. Another student, who’s name was Sean, dad walked up behind her. 

 Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t phrase the words to tell them that their kids were still missing. 

 “There’s still a number of students unaccounted for,” JJ answered for Y/N, noticing that she was struggling.

 When Billy’s mom gasped, Y/N’s eyes widened and quickly added, “But we’re still looking.” 

 Sean’s dad walked away but Billy’s mom stayed. “Oh, my god,” she muttered. 

 Y/N’s lips formed a tight line and she placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder to comfort her. 

 Once the woman had calmed down, Y/N started to make a beeline for that same bathroom she was in before. On her way there, Spencer stopped her, noticing her disheveled state.

 “Hey,” he whispered as he stepped in front of her. 

 She sighed, she didn’t want him to stop her, she didn’t want anyone to stop her. 

 When she tried to push past him and continue to the bathroom, Spencer put his hand gently on her arm. 

 “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

 “Nothing, it’s nothing,” her voice cracked. 

 “No, it’s not,” he said. 

 She let out a frustrated sigh. “I was over this, I was over my brother, I thought I was over it.” 

 “Your brother?” Spencer gave her a confused look. Of course, he knew about her brother, how when he was seventeen he was diagnosed with osteosarcoma. How her dad walked out because of the medical bills, how her mom picked up two jobs to help pay for medical bills. How even Y/N, when she was legally allowed to work, picked up a job to help. 

 “One of the victims, Billy,” she let out a shaky breath. “It’s just him and his mom, and he’s about the age I was when I lost my brother, and it just hit a nerve, I guess.”

  Spencer reached to give her a hug, but she pulled away. 

 “No, I don’t- no,” she held her hands out as if she was putting up a boundary. “I just need a second to be irritated, just give me one second to be angry at the son’s of a bitch’s who decided it was a good idea to take a bunch of teenagers.” 

 So Spencer did, he watched as she paced side to side in the locker filled hallway. One hand on her forehead and the other on her hip, muttering curse under her breath. 

 This is the most irritated Spencer had ever seen her in a case, she was so calm and collected usually. Sure, every now and then she got a little emotional, but so did everyone. This though, this wasn't a sad emotion, she was angry. Furious even. 

 Spencer jumped as the sound of Y/N’s boot hitting an empty trash can echoed through the hall. She stopped pacing, standing in the middle of the hallway now, her face laying on her palms. 

 “Okay, I’ll take that hug now.” She walked over to Spencer and wrapped her arms around his waist. 

 His arms wrapped around her shoulder, his cheeks pressed against the top of her head. He turned his lips to kiss the top of her head softly, keeping them there until they pulled apart from their hug. 

 Another reason she loved Spencer so much, he knew when to give her a second to breathe. Sure he was always there for her when she needed him, and vice versa, but sometimes she just needed to deal with her emotions on her own. And Spencer understood and respected that.

 --------------- 

 “Dividing them into groups-- you think that was to maintain control?” JJ asked as they stared at the pictures of the still missing students on the board. 

 “Mm, could be, but how do you explain the shock collars?” Blake asked as she remembered the collars that one of the students told her about. 

 “Torture,” Y/N said in a monotone voice. She stirred the coffee in her cup with a straw aimlessly, still upset about not being to find all the kids. 

 “Still, there doesn’t seem to be any method to how or why they were chosen,” Spencer added the thing they still hadn’t figured out.

 “Okay, so far we have two white males, early twenties, and wore gas masks of all things,” JJ recapped on their findings. 

 “Abducting a bus, a form of transportation, gas masks, shock collars, dividing people into teams…” Rossi trailed off as he walked up to the board. 

 “Sounds like ‘Gods of Combat’,” Y/N muttered as she listened to what Rossi was listing, the thought just coming out of her mouth like it was nothing. 

 “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Rossi pointed at Y/N. 

 “Wait, Rossi-” Y/N pushed herself off the desk she was leaning on- “We’re not seriously considering-” 

 “That this is a video game to them? Yes, I think it is.” 

 Everyone in the room looked at each other, all of them knowing it made sense and it was probably the most probable with what was going on.

-----------

 “These guys are replicating a video game?” Derek asked as he, Rossi, and Blake entered the room. 

 “In the game, you take over a form of public transportation; subway, train, bus. That’s how you get your players,” Rossi explained. 

 “Wait a minute,” Blake stopped Rossi. “You’ve played this game before?” 

 “Well, I may have once or twice,” Rossi admitted. “But so has Y/N.” 

 When Rossi pointed an accusing finger at her, she raised her eyebrows in shock. “Rossi, I only played it because the kids I babysat made me, what’s your excuse?” 

 Everyone shook their heads as they laughed. 

 “If I remember correctly though, the game consists of five players.” Y/N walked up to a whiteboard and pulled out a marker. “Captain, lieutenant, a pair of soldiers, and the pawn.” 

 She wrote each of the positions on the board. 

 “Maybe the unsubs picked them based on their personality type,” JJ said as she looked at the pictures of the students. 

 “Well, Sage and Trent-” Derek pointed to the two pictures- “are both athletic. So they probably would have been considered lieutenants.” 

 “Wendy would most likely have been considered the pawn,” Rossi added. 

 “They preselected these kids.” Y/N crossed her arms as she turned back to face those behind her. 

 “Probably got details about their lives from social media sites. Most teens don’t use privacy settings, anyone can gain access,” JJ said. 

 “They planned their attacks and struck the bus when it was the most vulnerable,” Blake nodded. 

 “That explains why the unsubs only needed ten of these kids and left the rest behind,” Derek added. 

 “So how do the collars fit into all this?” JJ asked, looking between Y/N and Rossi. 

 “They’re used to keep your player from straying from their mission,” Rossi replied. 

 “The object of the game is to destroy as many of your opponents as possible,” Y/N added on to the game.

 “The one with the highest body count wins,” Rossi continued. 

----------------

 “So these guys just got together and decided to pull this thing off?” The Detective asked as Spencer, Y/N, and he walked down the hall back to the performance room. 

 “You know, something this elaborate, it’s likely they’ve known each other for years, actually,” Spencer clarified. 

 As the three continued to walk, Penelope appeared behind them as she walked out of the computer lab with her laptop. 

 “Hey, I just got off the phone with the people who produce ‘Gods of Combat’--”

 “Lovely people I assume,” Y/N joked, trying to keep some light heart in the air. It was mostly for herself though, so she wouldn’t think too much about being upset. 

 “Uh-huh, it turns out they have six million players worldwide, 40,000 of which are D.C. residents,” Penelope continued. 

 “Garcia, if they’re capable of this type of violence in real life, do you think we’d see some sort of evidence of it in their gaming history?” Spencer asked, stammering as he tried to find the right terminology.

 “What type of evidence?” The Detective asked. 

 “He’s talking about the universal online gaming code of conduct,” Y/N answered. 

 “Yeah, prevents stuff like harassing, threatening other players, cyber-bullying, that kind of thing,” Penelope gave some more elaboration on the subject.  

 “How’s that supposed to help us find these kids?” The detective asked confused as to why it was relevant. 

 “Instead of looking for people who play the game, we need to look for people who were kicked out,” Hotch answered.  

----------------

 Y/N sipped on her fourth coffee of the night. She sat criss-cross applesauce on the table next to Spencer as they waited for Penelope to come up with some findings from the new info Kevin narrowed it down to. 

 “Okay, a month ago two players were kicked out at the same time for hacking into hell mod,” Penelope said as she continued to type on her computer to find more. “Previous to that, they both logged thousands of hours playing the game, dating back to early 2000.” 

 “You got any names, Garcia?” Derek asked, back still faced to the three sitting at or on the table. 

 “No, just online handles, but--” she stopped herself as a ping on her computer sounded- “You know what’s weird? They were both playing from the same IP address.”

 “So they live together.” Y/N peered at Penelope’s screen. 

 “They’re roommates, maybe?” Spencer posed, walking to stand beside Penelope as she typed. 

 “Or siblings,” Derek argued. 

 “Oh that’s not good,” Y/N muttered into her cup as she took another sip. 

-

 “It doesn’t make sense,” JJ said after those in the room caught her up to speed with their findings. “If they are siblings, how do you explain the gaps in time when they weren’t logged in at the same location?” 

 “Yeah, it looks like it happened several times a year, sometimes from different states,” Penelope agreed as she looked at the time logs. 

 “Maybe their parents got divorced.” Spencer looked up to JJ and Y/N who were currently standing next to each other. 

 “Maybe the parent got divorced,” Penelope repeated and began typing again. The new thought gave her a fire that had burned out after the confusion formed. “Leave it to the genius to come up with the obvious, here we go.”

 As her ramble ended, two pictures popped up on the screen. 

 “Joshua and Matthew Moore. They both went to central high, their parents worked two jobs each to make ends meet, led to a messy divorce. Joshua went to live with his dad in Arizona, Matthew stayed with his mom in D.C.” 

 “That’s how they knew when to strike,” Y/N pointed her finger. “Probably rode the same bus route.” 

 “Long hours, different schedules, they were latchkey kids,” Derek added. “Video games became their babysitters.” 

 “As they got older, they got more competitive and it became more about bragging rights,” Spencer continued the deep dive of the unsubs stressor. 

 “This game became the core of their sibling rivalry,” JJ continued. 

 “But it wasn’t just a game,” Y/N corrected. “ ‘Gods of Combat’ was their one constant connection to each other.” 

--------------

 “Picked up a ping on the E.L.F.,” Kevin said as he entered the room. “It’s emanating from somewhere in this 25-mile radius, west of Bolivar.” 

 Kevin circled the area of the map he set down.

 “What fits?” Blake asked as she looked down at the map.

 “Well, there’s a few old factories and a couple of bunkers from the ‘70s,” Kevin replied. 

 “What’s this?” Y/N pointed to a building on the map. 

 “The old paper mill,” Kevin answered. 

 “You know, given the size and location, that could be the perfect spot.” Spencer used the pencil in his hand to tap the spot on the map as he spoke.  

 They all looked up at Kevin. 

 “I’m gonna pull the schematics,” Kevin exited the room to do so. 

 Soon after Kevin did that, Penelope was able to get in contact with one of the kids, Billy, by hacking the feed. They compared the rooms they could see on Billy’s camera and established it was the paper mill. 

 Then they were on their way there. 

 The team walked into the paper mill, mixed in between different members of S.W.A.T.. 

 Y/N crept down the hall with Derek, each of them turning to check a different opening as they saw one. When they heard pounding footsteps, they jerked towards the sound. 

 “FBI, drop your weapon,” Y/N commanded the person she couldn’t quite make out in the dark, all she could see was the gun. 

 “I’m Agent Morgan, this is Agent Y/L/N,” Derek said as he tried to calm the boy. “We’re the good guys, now drop the weapon.” 

 “How do I know this isn't part of the game?” The boy whimpered.

 “Kid, you gotta trust me,” Derek said, trying to make the boy back his guard down. 

 “Are you Billy?” Y/N asked calmly. 

 At his name, the boy turned to look at her, his gun lowering slightly. 

 “Yes.” 

 “Billy, you gotta trust us, you talked to our friend Penelope, remember?” Y/N spoke in a soothing tone. 

 “Come on, now, I know you’re scared, but don’t do anything stupid,” Derek spoke in a not so soothing tone. 

Billy hesitated, still afraid this was a part of the game, but then bent his knees and put the gun on the ground. Y/N sighed in relief and was about to walk towards him, but out of the corner of her eye she saw movement.

 Joshua Moore appeared, a large gun held to his side. 

 “Drop your weapon!” Derek yelled.

 When he realized he was cornered, his finger went for the trigger. 

 In an almost slow motion moment, Y/N aimed her gun and shot before he could do the same thing. The bullet went right through his chest, and the blood began to spread on his white shirt. 

 Joshua dropped to his knees, then fell to the ground as he let out a breath of pain. 

 Derek rushed over to check Joshua, but Y/N’s only concern was for the teenage boy whose mom had told her about. 

 “Hey, Billy, it’s alright.” She grabbed his arm and led him out of the room, not allowing him to look at Joshua’s now dead body. “Your mom has been worried sick about you.” 

 “You-you saw my mom?” He stuttered as a smile of joy and relief washed over his face.

 “Yeah,” and as they walked into the cool night air, his mom called his name. 

 He broke away from Y/N’s grasp and ran to his mom to give her a hug. And even though the circumstances wouldn’t normally allow it, Y/N smiled. She smiled as she got to watch the boy hug his mom, holding her like his life depended on it. 

 “I’m sorry, Trent,” a girl behind Y/N whimpered as a body bag rolled past. 

 For a moment, Y/N forgot where she was and what she had been doing, because she was thinking about the last time she got to hang out with her mom and brother together. The memory used to be painful, but now she looked back on it happily. The last time she saw her older brother smile a real smile. One that didn’t show pain from chemo, one that didn’t show he was dying, one that showed how happy he was to be with them. 

-----------

 Y/N closed the report from the case on her desk softly, laying her hand on top of it. She let her cheeks bubble out as she filled them with air, then let it out slowly from her lips. The office was quiet, everyone else gone. The team was still there though, finishing up some reports and the political side of the job. 

 “We saved them,” Spencer reminded her as he walked over, his tall figure towering her sitting one.

 “Yeah, I know, it’s not that,” she confessed, but didn’t look up at him, knowing he could read her eyes like the back of his hand. Or the back of anything really, seeing as he had an eidetic memory. 

 “What is it then?” He asked, leaning against her desk. 

 “For a split second today, I forgot I was at the scene of a crime,” she finally met his eyes. “I saw Billy reunite with his mom and I forgot where I was...because he reminded me of him.” 

 “Your brother?” 

 Y/N nodded. 

 “Oh, sweets, it’s okay to miss him you know? He was your older brother, and it was a terrible thing that he got sick--” 

 “Spencer, I know that, I know all that,” she cut him off, her voice soft and not cutting. “It’s just, I don’t know…”

 She rubbed her bicep with her hand and averted her gaze. She turned in her swivel chair to the family photos on her desk. In a line three photos sat; one of her and her mom at her college graduation, one of her and the team at a dinner Rossi hosted, and one of her and Spencer, from JJ’s wedding. These photos all showed people who were so important in her life, people she loved...people who were there. 

 “You feel guilty for not going to visit him,” Spencer said, catching onto her guilt as she stared at the photos. 

 “I think so,” she murmured looking up at him. 

 He smiled at her sadly. Reaching down, he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of her seat. “How about we go home, order some food, then tomorrow, you can talk to Hotch about going home to visit your mom?” 

 “I think I like that idea,” she quivered, a stray tear falling down her face. Man, was she grateful for this man.

 She picked up her bag from beside her desk, lacing her fingers with his and walked out of the office with him.    

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[akimmito]

I’ll still be with you

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Master List

Chapter 2: The blue of the sky

Maybe, I can never see this sky again...

The raindrops fall in silent lament, drowning out the noise of the city that is prey to its tears. He just watches the clouds above him, ignoring the water and allowing himself to soak, the white uniform shirt sticks to him defining the muscles he hides underneath, the hair almost covering his eyes as it drips following the rhythm imposed by the sky.

"From here, I can't tell if you're crying or not."

Damian looks away from the dark sky and meets his best friend's vibrant blue, a brilliant color among all the gray that surrounds him. Since that fateful night everything has lost its meaning, didn't he want to make his father proud? Didn't he want to show that he could do great things? Didn't he want to find his own way?

"You're going to get sick, let's go to class."

"No, I'll stay here..."

"Shall I call Alfred or Dick? You don't look good. ”He keeps staring at the blue, sees it blur with the boy's conflicting emotions. Jon is still three years younger than him, it doesn't matter that he's already nearing puberty. His features are still childish, he still lights up as if he were his own sun without needing the star that revitalize him.

"I'll be fine, I just need time..."

Why do I feel this way?

Jon just watches him before nodding, doesn't say anything else, and walks away. He gives him little glances the further he walks back to the classroom, for several days he has been that way, sad. And as if the skies of Gotham felt it, the same amount of time it has been raining, shedding the tears that the teenager is not able to let go.

Damian looks back at the clouds, feeling his eyes sting. In an attempt to contain the sensation, he closes his eyes and just lets himself be felt, the drops soaking him even more, knowing that Alfred won't be happy when he sees him dripping so much water that he could give a whole neighborhood drink. But the rain stops falling on him and he opens his eyes again, a black umbrella protects him.

"I extended a permit to your teacher, come with me."

Damian feels the return of the rain abruptly on him and sees Drake walking towards the main entrance, unlike him, his brother is so neat that he doesn't seem to be walking in the rain. He looks at him for just one more moment before walking behind him.

Before, when he first arrived, he saw Drake as someone inferior, as a piece to be eliminated from the board in order to achieve his objectives, he earned his contempt and a cold shoulder that prevailed until now. Drake is the hardest to read, always hidden behind a sympathetic image, easy to ignore, easy to underestimate and forget that, of all the Wayne family members, he's the most dangerous. He runs Wayne Enterprise better than Bruce, everyone says, the efficiency of the company grew as soon as he got the full job a year ago. Drake is nineteen years old and it's already everything Bruce never asked for, but is proud to have.

If I were like him would my father be proud? Would he love me more?

They move silently through the damp streets of the city, Damian has his eyes fixed on the drops that crash against the glass of the window. There was no comment, Drake just handed him his jacket and now it's just as wet as the rest of him.

He don't want to keep thinking, he just want your mind to push all the thoughts that drown him and let he breathe easy. He feels tormented by not being able to fulfill his father's expectations, by the quiet years in the company of Richard and that were broken by the abrupt return of Bruce, by the time it left and will never return, by the lost happiness, for the torn illusions and for the dreams that are impossible to reach on a horizon that recedes with each step he takes.

"I'm Sorry."

Damian turns to Drake immediately, he's suddenly with the blue of the sky that is dimmed by sadness.

"Why?"

"It's my fault, I brought Bruce back."

He doesn't say anything, maybe that's enough, because his brother returns all his attention to the streets.

The sound of the rain envelops them and the cold is almost welcoming. Damian closes his eyes and leans against the glass, he doesn't care about the destination as long as it's as far as possible from the mansion, the school and everything that haunts him. Because he failed.

I just have to resist… it's the only thing I can do.

I'll not change my father's mind.

I'll not change overnight...

The lack of movement brings him back to reality, the noise of the drops hitting the car is not heard either. They are under cover.

"Where we are?"

"My home."

Sure, Drake lives in the city. Like Todd, he follows the patrol routes imposed by Batman, but no longer lives in the mansion. It's just Bruce, Alfred and him...

A sense of tranquility floods him, it's not the mansion. It's a place without shadows, but neither with a light that he doesn't deserve. Follow Drake up to the tall silver, barely noticing the details of the apartment, though it0s more of a complete building. He vaguely remembers that it's the old theater near the alley where his grandparents died, it was not important and still is not, it is almost surprising how detached he feels to the whole thing, when that event was the first and great event that he brought to life to Batman. He could say, without shame, that he feels closer to the death of Richard's parents, because he always spoke to him about them and made him part of those moments, he made them his family.

"Why are we here, Drake?"

He sees him wandering aimlessly until he stops in front of a door, gives him a glance before entering the new environment. Damian follows him, assuming the answer to his question is there.

A room so small that it could be a matchbox, at odds with the large space enjoyed in the previous room. Stacked books and scattered papers are the main decorations, but the most important are the two computers. Drake works in that little 4x4 space? The place is visibly uncomfortable.

"Drake."

"Bruce is being unfair to you." Damian frowns, his brother doesn't face him, he can only see him in profile while he turns on one of the two computers. The light illuminates his face, making his dull expression better to see. "I was also unfair to you six years ago and I remained so for a long time, I was stuck in your version of ten years. I'm sorry for that too, you deserved more. We're family."

It was never a secret that Drake held a grudge against him and to receive such a sincere apology, admitting that it wasn't just Damian who made mistakes, it's a new and unfamiliar feeling. It's not exactly unpleasant, although it does cause him some discomfort.

"I know it was an accident. I can't judge you for that, I've been close to passing that line… ”He falls silent and begins typing, opening files and an email. Damian begins to suspect that those computers are not for work, he looks for the switch and when the whole room is properly lit, he can see everything in greater detail.

Stacked books are magic, since when has Drake been interested in magic? It's no secret that he feels rejection towards it, so it's strange. The scattered papers, for some that he can read, are bank accounts and other documents related to a certain Gabriel Agreste. On the far wall are a couple of photographs, guarded as if they were a secret. Red Robin and a spotted heroine, Drake and a young girl with bright blue eyes and a kind smile. He can only assume that it's the same woman.

"What is all this?"

"The memories of my trip."

Damian doesn't make sense in his words, but doesn't push. He's tired of pushing.

Just hold on... this place is at least much better than the mansion.

"I'll go."

"Hm?"

"I'll leave Gotham and I'll not return." Only until then does he look at the screen, there is another photo of that same woman, but in the design of a French Marie Lenoir passport, he's sure that this is not her real Name. Next to it's also one of him, Timothée Rothchild. That just confirms it's not her real name. "There is something I must do and it will take me a lifetime."

"Why are you telling me?"

"Do you want to come?"

Damian just watches him open another document and this time, it's his photo with a blank passport.

I wanna go?

Maybe that's the time to go back and find my way...

---------

I don't know if I managed to express well the feeling of melancholy and of being... lost, yes. I hope I have made it.

What did you think?

[malumsmermaid]

The Truth is Out There

Back at it with another Collab Event headed by Laura and Steff!

Prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.”

Event Masterlist         My Masterlist       Buy me a Ko-Fi

My AU was Alien!Malum and I chose to do it as an X-Files AU, but you won’t have had to have watched The X-Files to understand what’s going on, however there are some spoilers.

Sourced some of my information from Cryptid Campfire, specifically the Bigfoot Mountain tome (eps 31-38) and Yuletide Yeti (ep. 63)

Warnings: X-Files Spoilers, male giving/receiving oral

Word Count: 5.4k

One: Missing 4-1-1

After years and years of working on the X Files, Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully were finally retiring. Over the past couple of years, Fox had been training up a fresh agent he’d met during a guest lecture at the FBI academy. Agent Mulder was there to talk about profiling in “extreme circumstance,” promising that the eager students could ask him questions pertaining to any other topic following lecture related questions. The first agent he called on, Michael Clifford, struck him with the earnest expression on his face as he asked about the X Files Project, but also with his appearance. His hair was dyed black, eyebrow pierced and an earring dangling from his earlobe, reminding him of his late friend, Langley.

The aged agent took to Agent Clifford quickly, taking the young man under his wing and teaching him all he had learned over the past thirty years. The more time he spent with the younger agent, the more he reminded him of Langley. His skill with computers, the clothes he would wear when they met up outside of the office, even a few of the new games he would describe when asked about them sounded like something Langley would’ve enjoyed. But there were also things that were distinctly Michael, which Mulder came to like about the younger agent, taking to him quicker than anyone he had met since the loss of The Lone Gunmen. 

After two years, Mulder and Scully both decided that it was finally time for them to retire, knowing that they were leaving the X Files in good hands. 

The day after Mulder and Scully’s retirement party Michael was back in his office...or rather closet. He’d been officially assigned to the X Files two weeks ago, to help with the transition period before Fox and Dana left. The small room felt strangely empty now that Michael was the only one in there. When the three of them all squeezed in there when Mulder wanted Michael’s opinion on something or over the past two weeks, Michael had found it hard to imagine having to do this before the files were digitized, when filing cabinets jutted out away from the walls. 

He was sitting behind Mulder’s desk, laptop in front of him, the camera covered by a piece of blue masking tape, files that Fox had asked him to go over open on the screen. Michael spent most of the morning fixated on reading through these different cases, only being pulled out of it by a gentle knock on the open door. 

He looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose to see who was interrupting him. His heart fluttered and stomach did a somersault when he laid eyes on the man occupying his doorway. Dark curls, glowing skin, and a jawline that Michael would kill to kiss were all he was able to process before the man had fully entered the room. He approached Michael’s desk, tattooed hand reaching out, “I’m Calum Hood, your new partner.” he stated, waiting for Michael to take his hand.

Michael rose to his feet, office chair rolling into the wall in his haste. “Hell of a way to ask a man out,” he joked as he shook Calum’s hand, lower lip rolling into his mouth when he realized he’d voiced that thought aloud.

Calum let out a good natured laugh at Michael’s response, smile pushing up his round cheeks and crinkling his eyes. Michael let out an anxious, relieved laugh, taking Calum’s hand and shaking it firmly. “So,” Michael started, “what happened to get you sent down here?”

Calum looked at Michael, slightly bewildered, releasing the blonde’s hand and going to lean on Scully’s desk. “Well, I finished up grad school back in May, getting my Masters in Zoology, so I was looking for a job because...student loans. Anyway, a couple weeks after graduation, I was checking my email for any responses from employers. And I found a job offer from the FBI. They said that they anticipated an opening coming up within the next few months and that they needed someone with my expertise to fill it. I didn’t know what they’d need a zoologist for, but I figured it was an offer and it definitely wasn't working at a grocery store and coffee shop to make ends meet, so I took it. Finished up at the academy two weeks ago and this morning while I was getting ready I got a call saying that I was to come here today, that I had been officially assigned to the X Files, and where to find you.”

Michael nodded, “So you’re going to be the Scully to my Mulder then,” he stated confidently. 

Calum hummed, slowly beginning to take in the office, “Suppose I am.” he started, eyes landing on the “I Want to Believe” poster Mulder had left behind. “So, do you really believe in this? Like, how did you end up here?”

Michael chewed his lip, shrinking behind Mulder’s desk. “I mean...I don’t think any of it is improbable. I’m much more interested in cryptids and mythical creatures than aliens and government conspiracies, though Mulder and Scully definitely got plenty of evidence of both of those, even if some of it did end up mysteriously destroyed or disappeared. But it is also hard to argue against aliens, especially with those videos that Tom DeLonge’s organization put out. Mulder claimed to have come across a mothman once, but I doubt that that’s what those creatures were. The description of the one Scully shot doesn’t match up with mothman at all, other than the red eyes. The things they encountered blended in with the forest surrounding them and didn’t fly. Mothman has wings, that’s why he’s called mothman! I just...don’t understand how Mulder came to that conclusion, may have argued with him over it a couple times.”

Michael continued to explain how he’d gotten involved with Mulder, how they’d become friends over the past two years, leading to Mulder requesting that Michael be moved to the X Files before his retirement, ensuring that someone would be able to continue his work under an official capacity, that the X Files wouldn’t become buried under dust like they had been before Mulder came along. “Anyway,” the blonde finally concluded, “I suppose since you’re here now, I should send you some of these files that I’m going through, get another perspective on them and all.”

~~~~~~~~

Later that week Michael met up with Mulder after work. He smiled when the young agent came into the room, inviting him over to their corner table. “So, how’s working as a solo agent going?” Mulder asked once Michael had settled into the open seat.

Michael laughed softly, shaking his head. “I was a solo agent for maybe two hours. Sounds like they were planning for your retirement the second you both started talking about it. Agent Hood is pretty nice though, can’t wait to get more of his thoughts when we actually get out into the field.”

Mulder nodded, mouth twitching into half a smile. “Should’ve known they’d have someone to counteract you ready. He a doctor?” 

“Nah, zoologist. Probably best given my tendencies towards cryptids.”

Michael continued to sit there explaining everything he’d learned about Agent Hood in the past week, skipping out on the part where he found the other man incredibly attractive. Mulder sat there with rapt attention, nodding along as Michael detailed their discussions about the files that Mulder had left for him.

They left the bar a couple of beers later, Mulder giving a stern reminder about not trusting people before they parted, slipping Michael a piece of paper as they gave each other a handshake and hug.

~~~~~~~

After a couple of years working together, Michael and Calum were incredibly close. They were out in the field, staking out the office of a man that they were told would provide a lead on a young boy who’d gone missing in Virginia’s Shenandoah National Park, who Michael believed may have been taken by a bigfoot. Once again, Michael was explaining to Calum how a bigfoot could possibly be the culprit in this situation. 

“Look, there are different variations of bigfoot sighted on every continent except Antarctica. Among them there are three different types of yetis, differentiated by both size and color, in a single mountain range. So I’d say, biologically, it would be safe to assume that in a country as large and differentiated in climates as the US, it makes sense that there would be variations in Sasquatches in different parts of the country. As I’ve mentioned before, the classic bigfoot descriptions that we’ve gotten from the Patterson-Gimlin film and other sightings in the Pacific Northwest are different from sightings in other parts of the country. Generally, East Coast Sasquatches are smaller than their West Coast counterparts, less….thicc, for a lack of a better word, and for some reason ones in Florida are particularly pungent, hence them being called skunk apes.

“There are cases of children who’ve gone missing in the same circumstances this child has, being found in caves or places that they couldn’t have possibly reached in the amount of time they’ve been missing, at least not on their own. And some of those kids say that they were rescued by a large, hairy man, or a bear, like that kid in North Carolina a year or two ago. The question is, do bigfoots see this small, helpless child and take them in to take care of them and set them out where they can be found when they hear searchers nearby, or do they just see them and go “ooh cute” and then the kid wanders away while the bigfoot that picked it up is out foraging.”

“That’s all well and good Michael.” Calum started, a smile playing across his lips at the joke he was about to make, “But couldn’t it just as easily be aliens?”

“It’s plausible.” Michael said, missing Calum’s joke. “There are even some people who actually believe that, because there are occasionally UFO sightings around the same time as a surge in bigfoot sightings, that perhaps bigfoot is extraterrestrial. I personally don’t think that, I think they’re just a terrestrial species we need to protect and study further, maybe they’re just as interested in the strange lights in the sky as we are…...wait there’s our guy.”

Calum looked out the window and across the street, nodding as he spotted the man that had been described to them. He jumped when he realized that Michael was already out of the car and striding across the street. He easily caught up with the blonde, the pair of agents walking side by side as they approached. 

“Hey doc!” Michael called, reaching into his pocket for his badge as the man ahead of them turned, “Federal a--” the man took off, ducking down a side street. “Shit!” Michael broke into a run, tossing the car keys to Calum, “head him off!”

Michael kept up with the man, weaving through the narrow streets, finally catching him when he ran into a dead end. “Please, don’t exterminate me,” the man whimpered, turning to face Michael, hands raised.

Michael stared, momentarily confused until he realized that he was looking at a familiar face. “Hey, no, it’s ok, I’m not the bounty hunter. My name is Agent Clifford, I was told that you could answer some questions I had about the missing child.” Heavy footsteps came from behind him and the alien clone started, brown eyes darting from side to side, looking for an escape. Michael held up his hand, “It’s ok, it’s just my partner, Agent Hood, he doesn’t want to hurt you either, we just need information to find this little boy.”

Calum came to a stop next to Michael, assessing their surroundings before his eyes landed on the man Michael was talking to. Immediately his eyebrows furrowed, “That’s...that’s fuckin me. Mike, why are we looking at me?”

Michael chewed his lip, but there was no denying it. Despite the lack of tattoos, the less defined muscles, and the fact that this man had a mop of curls instead of the buzzcut Calum had been sporting, there was no denying that the man in front of them was a carbon copy of Calum Hood. “Cal,” he said softly, using the same tone he’d had for the clone, “I promise we’ll discuss this later, but right now we need to find the kid, and the man in front of us can help with that.”

Calum swallowed thickly before agreeing, “Yeah, ok. C’mon, let’s get back in your office, Doc, ask you our questions and then get out of your hair.”

~~~~~~~

Two days later they found the young boy, wandering outside an opening in the mountainside when he heard his name being called a hundred feet below. Two rescuers climbed up the sheer face to get the kid, Calum and Michael following, using tree roots for hand holds. The two rescuers rappelled back down once one had the boy safely perched on their back. Michael, meanwhile, went to investigate the small cave, Calum reluctantly following behind. “You know,” he said softly, “if there is something that brought the boy in here, it’s probably not going to be happy if it finds us in its home.”

“Not gonna be here long.” Michael said simply, pushing a little further back.

Calum hummed softly, looking around the small space. Michael called from the back of the cave and Calum ran over, worried that his partner had discovered whatever actually lived in this space. Instead he found Michael crouching at the edge of what appeared to be a bed, made of woven twigs, leaves and down feathers, and much larger than what a five year old would need, or even be able to make, especially in the three and a half days he’d been missing, with the only way in and out of this cave being a 100ft drop. 

“Wow,” Calum whispered.

He pulled out his phone and took a few photos, Michael laying on the stone floor in front of it for reference, ends of the apparent bed extending a few inches beyond Michael’s head and feet on each end. He opened the measuring app, taking screenshots as he got the measurement of the length and width of the nest, 7’6” long and 5’4” wide, for his report later. Once he was done documenting the nest, Michael carefully crawled in, skimming the surface. 

He let out a gasp, quickly pulling an evidence bag from his pocket and carefully picking up a clump of hair. “This is laying on the surface of the nest, not woven in like the rest of the material, which means….” Michael explained excitedly, green eyes gleaming as he looked up at Calum.

Calum smiled, finishing his partner’s sentence, “It came from whatever lives here. That should be good for your theory Mike, now let’s get back down to the camp with everyone else, before Bigfoot makes us his new pet.”

Michael scowled at Calum’s playful tone, but carefully crawled out of the nest, examining the cave one more time as they slowly exited, hooking back into the ropes and rappelling back down, picking their way through the brush and back onto the trail. They caught back up with the two rescuers they were with, who had already radioed ahead that they had the boy, so everyone should be heading back in too. They made it back to camp after half an hour of walking down the trail, the young boy halfway to falling asleep on the rescuer’s shoulders until his parents cried out upon seeing them appear at the edge of the treeline. They set him down and he ran to his parents, letting them scoop him up and cover his face with anxious kisses. Michael and Calum both smiling as they watched the reunion. The family climbed into the ambulance to go to the hospital so their son could get checked out, one of their friends following in the car, but he seemed perfectly fine. 

~~~~~~~

Once all the volunteers were accounted for, Calum and Michael got in their car and drove back to their cabin, where they’d stay one more night before returning to the Pentagon in the morning. Calum cooked up some pancakes in the small kitchenette and they sat on the edge of his bed to eat. “So…” Calum started, “We still need to talk about why our informant was...y’know...me, but not.”

Michael nodded, swallowing his syrup soaked bite of pancake. “So, you don’t have any recollection either in your childhood or during college, of missing any time? No strangely realistic dreams that poke at the back of your mind?” 

Calum stared into the distance, pensieve expression on his face as he dragged a piece of pancake through the extra syrup. Finally he spoke, “There is a night, during finals in undergrad. I remember leaving the library, and then I remember waking up on my dorm room floor, nothing in between. It was probably about 1am when I left the campus library to go home, and then 7am when my roommate’s alarm went off so he could get ready for his first exam. He didn’t remember me coming in either.”

Michael nodded slowly, setting his plate aside and going into the kitchen to rinse his syrupy fingers. “Lemme see something,” he said softly, crouching behind Calum on the mattress.

He nodded and Michael carefully ran his fingers over the back of Calum’s neck, gasping when he found a little bump just under the skin. “What is it?” Calum asked softly.

“I think it’s the same thing that Scully found after she was returned.” Michael explained softly, “Whatever it is, we’re not taking it out.” He added firmly.

“So...you think that maybe I’ve been taken?”

“It seems that way, nothing else explains why you’ve got a clone running around.”

Calum nodded, about to say something else when Michael’s phone rang. He frowned at the screen, not recognizing the number, but answered, “Agent Clifford.” His face grew panicked as he listened to the person on the other end. “We’ll be right there.” he stated before hanging up. “Your clone is in trouble.” he stated, stepping into his shoes and grabbing the keys, Calum following after him, shoes in hand.

He sped through the mountainside town, skidding to a halt in front of the office where they’d waited a few days before. Instead of sitting in the car this time, they ran through the front door. They split up to search the rooms, Michael finding the hybrid cowering beneath a desk. Michael crouched on the floor by him, softly trying to hatch a plan to get him out of there safely when there came the sound of a scuffle in the next room. Michael smacked himself in the head, “Fuck, Calum looks like you, shit. Okay, look, I’m going to go distract the bounty hunter and save Cal, get out of here.” 

The hybrid nodded, slipping out of the room after Michael, going the opposite direction of the commotion as Michael slipped the silver needle out of his pocket. He entered the room the noise was coming from, seeing Calum pinning the bounty hunter to the floor. He swallowed, calming his nerves slightly, clicking the handle of the needle. The soft “pft” that the needle made as it appeared from the handle caught the attention of the bounty hunter, looking up from where Calum was holding him down, struggling further against the agent atop him. Michael stepped further into the room, raising his hand with the needle in it, slowly waving it as he said “This is not the man you are looking for.”

“Michael, for fucks sake” Calum groaned.

“Oh I’m sorry, I don’t plan to run into another Calum clone out in the world and see them get fucking murked!” Michael exclaimed, before turning his attention back to the bounty hunter, “Look, this guy is who they sourced the human DNA from for the clone you’re after. And if you’re after him because of us, he didn’t tell us about whatever he’s working on, just how to find a lost kid. So...Calum, run on three.”

Calum stared, but listened, Michael counting down as the bounty hunter stared. Calum dropped him right when Michael said three, scrambling from the room. Before he had time to react, Michael was on the bounty hunter, pushing the needle into the back of the man’s neck, pulling his shirt over his nose and mouth as the neon green substance began to bubble from the wound. He pulled the needle out as more green goo frothed forth and ran from the room and down to the car, where Calum was waiting. As soon as Michael closed the door Calum sped off back to the hotel. “One Calum makes me flustered enough as is,” Michael muttered, clicking his seatbelt, “Two? Fucking nightmare for my sanity. At least he doesn’t act like you too.”

Calum tried to ignore what Michael was saying, heart racing from what he was going to pretend was the fight he’d just been in. “Where do you think he’s going to go?” Calum asked softly after a moment.

Michael shrugged, slouching down in his seat. “Hopefully somewhere safe, skipped town if he’s as smart as the man he came from.”

Calum was thankful for the darkness as he continued to drive, cheeks turning pink. 

He pulled back into their space in front of the cabin, nudging Michael before he got out of the car. He took a deep breath, smiling at the scent of honeysuckle filling the air from the bushes nearby. He heard Michael’s door close and turned to look at the blonde, smile on his face. “We going in?” Michael asked, tilting his head toward the cabin door.

Calum nodded, licking his lips as he slowly made his way up the gravel path towards the cabin. The plates of half-eaten pancakes still sat on Calum’s bed, probably extra soggy and cold by now. He hummed, kicking off his shoes as Michael came in, closing the door behind him. Calum glanced back saying, “Hey, thanks for saving my life back there…”

Michael hummed, stepping out of his own shoes, “You seemed like you had it pretty under control when I came in.”

Calum scoffed, turning around and taking Michael’s face in his hands, searching the blonde’s face for half a second before leaning in and kissing him deeply. Michael hummed, kissing him back immediately, long arms wrapping around Calum’s broad shoulders. Calum pulled away after a minute, licking his lips, savoring the taste of Michael on them before he whispered, “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met. Figured now was as good a time as ever.” 

Michael nodded slowly, leaning his forehead on Calum’s. “Anytime would’ve been perfect by me, so long as it actually happened.”

Calum laughed softly, leaning in and kissing Michael again. “Any other way you’d like me to show my gratitude?” he teased softly, a hand making its way down Michael’s arm.

Michael leaned into Calum’s touch, letting out a gentle whine. Calum hummed, pressing a light, experimental kiss to Michael’s neck, fingers reaching to pull at the hem of Michael’s shirt. Michael let him remove it, hands landing on Calum’s bare biceps as Calum stared at Michael in awe, eyes exploring the blonde’s bare torso in a new way. 

Calum’s hands began to explore the expanse of pale skin, fingertips gingerly tracing the tops of his hip bones, hovering over the waistband of his jeans. Michael let out an impatient whimper, wrenching the hem of Calum’s black tank top from where it was tucked into his slacks. Calum let out a small grunt of affirmation, reaching behind him and tugging the shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. Hunger consumed him, pressing his chest to Michael’s, feeling the slighter man bounce slightly as his back met the cabin wall. He leaned in, holding Michael in a sucking kiss, one hand firmly on his waist while the other tangled in the messy blonde hair. 

He pulled out of the kiss after a minute, barely breathing as he let his lips trace Michael’s jaw, coming to rest by his ear, teasingly sucking the lobe between his lips, giving it a gentle tug. Michael was softly keening, fingers weakly pulling at Calum’s muscular arms, trying to urge him to the floor in front of him. Calum let out a low chuckle, voice a rasp in Michael’s ear, “Lucky we got ourselves together the one time we’re not in a shitty motel with paper for walls, huh Mikey?”

Michael let out a whine, hips pressing forward as Calum worked at the blonde’s zipper, shimmying the black denim down Michael’s thighs to his knees. His lips traveled Michael’s chest as his hands nimbly pulled at his own belt, loosening it and removing his slacks, kicking them to lay near his tank top. Meanwhile, Michael had continued to work his own pants down his legs, leaving them pooled around his ankles. 

Calum gave Michael a small smile, leaning in for a soft kiss before sinking to his knees on the wooden floor. Michael stared, green eyes wide as Calum’s lips travelled up his pale thighs, fingers tracing circles over the soft cotton boxers. Finally, Calum removed the last piece of fabric concealing Michael from him. He licked his lips as he watched the hardened length spring forth from beneath the fabric that now pooled at Michael’s ankles. 

Michael whined, bucking into Calum’s hand as he took hold of him, left arm wrapping around the backs of Michael’s thighs for support as he teasingly flicked his tongue against Michael’s tip. The salty taste of him made Calum lose what little composure and control he had planned to have, letting out a gentle moan as he ran his tongue over Michael’s tip again. “Like how I taste, Cal?” Michael attempted to taunt, but his voice came out clearly breathless, Calum’s lips wrapping around him like it was all they were ever meant for.

Calum easily took Michael in his mouth, slowly bobbing his head up and down the length, tongue working over it naturally. His hand stayed at the base of Michael’s cock, but when he pulled his mouth off of him to catch his breath for a moment, curiosity struck, removing his hand from Michael, who bucked his hips forward in protest, until Calum’s hand cupped his balls, fingers fondling him and causing a higher moan to leave his mouth. Calum continued this new strategy for another moment, taking deep breaths before finally returning his mouth to Michael’s length, this time relaxing fully and taking him all the way down. 

Michael made a noise that almost sounded like a strangled scream, blunt fingernails digging into Calum’s scalp as he searched for hair to grip. That thought alone was enough for Calum to consider growing his hair out again, solely for Michael. He continued his work, Michael now thrusting shallowly as Calum continued to bob his head. “Please, Cal…” he whimpered out, hips jumping again as Calum’s brown eyes met his green.

He held his head still, letting Michael grip the back of his head as he began to fuck Calum’s mouth, Calum letting out a muffled moan at the thought of Michael using him like this. He unwound his left arm from behind Michael’s thighs now, pushing his boxers down enough to free his own length. He used his thumb to spread the arousal leaking from his tip over himself, trying not to move as he finally began to give his own cock the attention it had been aching for. 

His brown eyes closed, wanting desperately to cry out for Michael, an action made impossible by the other man’s cock brushing the back of his throat. “Look so pretty like this, mouth full and...fuucck…” Michael gasped, continuing to grip at the back of Calum’s head with one hand, the fingers of the other digging into his shoulder. 

His thrusts quickened, and Calum could tell that Michael was chasing his orgasm now, readying himself. His whines of Calum’s name grew higher in pitch and more frequent before he finally came apart, his thrusts shallow as he filled Calum’s mouth. Calum’s eyes fluttered, letting Michael work himself through, swallowing what he was given. 

Once he was finished he pulled out of Calum’s mouth before collapsing on top of him, his breathing labored. Calum held him, letting him recover while he sat back on his heels. He pressed gentle kisses to Michael’s cheeks, neck, chest, fingers running through sweat-damp blonde hair. Michael stirred slightly, head lifting and resting against Calum’s shoulder. “I’d offer to return the favor,” he slurred out, “but I’m kinda gone...wow baby,” fucked out mind testing a theory he’d been building based off of how Calum reacted when he was complimented, both for work and on his talents.

Calum preened at the praise and pet name, giving more fuel to Michael’s theory. He sat Michael against the wall, tucking his own aching, still hard, member back into his boxers and getting back to his feet. He scooped Michael into his arms, carrying him to the bed and tucking blankets around his frame. He whined as Calum fixed his hair, arms working out of the blankets to reach for him. Calum smiled, taking a hand and kissing his knuckles, “Just gonna clean up the cottage and then we can snuggle. I’ll take up your offer for our morning shower. Would suggest taking the scenic route home if we weren’t expected at work.” 

Michael whined at the suggestive wink Calum gave him before he went to pick up the piles of clothes, tucking them into their respective suitcases before he picked up the plates from what had been his bed all weekend. He scraped the syrup soaked pancakes into the trash and set the plates in the sink to soak, bagging the extra pancakes and putting them in the fridge. 

Everything straightened up he made his way to the bed, flicking the lightswitch before he crawled under the sheets. Michael was already half asleep when Calum pulled him to his chest, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He smiled at the feeling of Michael shuffling his body closer, rubbing his shoulder as Michael flung his arm over him, “G’night Calum.” he whispered, scared of breaking the moment, of waking up and being in separate beds again.

“Good night, Mike,” Calum returned, smile on his face as Michael’s breathing slowed, letting himself drift off as well.

~~~~~~

Calum woke the next morning to Michael’s fingers trailing the ink on his chest. He smiled, it was rare that the morning after the conclusion of a case that he’d be the one to wake first. Usually Michael would be just beginning the process of getting out of bed by the time Calum was out of the shower and dressed, blonde hair sticking up in all directions. 

Calum squeezed Michael’s shoulders, causing the blonde to look up at him, green eyes suddenly bashful. “Cal,” he started softly, fingers continuing to trace the patterns in his skin. “We need to talk about last night.” Calum raised a thick eyebrow, brown eyes concerned. “Not...not the kissing and the blowjob part, that’s still...that’s great, I love that and I’m still on for shower reparations if you are...the...the before that, before your...you called.”

Calum smiled, relief filling his chest as he nodded, hand resting on top of Michael’s, before apprehension began to flutter back in. “Yeah...we do. What are we gonna say about that? We do have to include...him, in the report.”

Michael sighed, glancing at Calum’s hand atop his before he said, “I’m gonna give you some of the files on Scully when we get back. Need you to know why you can’t take that thing out of you. I don’t think I could watch you go through that, especially not now. I wanna do everything in my power to find out why that happened to you, if it’s what led to you being here, working with me. And I’m going to make sure they don’t try and take you again, not when I’m here.” Calum shushed him, reaching out to rub his cheek gently. “Hey, it’s ok, I trust you, right? I’ll do whatever you say is best. And no need to put all that on yourself, I’m here, partners, right?”

Michael smiled, nodding and leaning up and pressing a kiss to Calum’s lips, “Partners.” he affirmed with a smile.

Taglist: @irwinkitten @calpops @goth5sos @empathycth @wildflowergrae @talkfastromance4 @maluminspace @notinthesameguey @cashtonasfuck @sexgodashton @castaway-cashton @afihemmings @treatallwithkindness @theyorthemrecords @another-lonely-heart @ghostofmashton @opheliaaurora23 @loxerofmine @youngblood199456

Micheal Taglist: @adoringlrh @koalacal @lashtonswildflower  @loveroflrh​ @valyntlne​

Calum Taglist: @daisyangei​ @califl0wer @angelicfluffs​

Slash Taglist: @tigerteeff​

To Be Added to my TagList

[justlightlysedated]

this one is called, are we destined to burn or will we last the night, a fic where alex hacks into caufield before they go on their roadtrip and notices a very familiar pair of eyes on one of the captives, and realizes that it’s michael’s mom:

It had been dark when Michael got home so he doesn't immediately realize that he isn't alone when he parks the truck beside the Airstream and leans his head down on the steering wheel.

He feels exhausted, but he knows he's not going to be able to fall asleep for a while still. 

He's still worried about Isobel even though she seems to be getting more and more like her old self despite the circumstances, and since he can't drink himself into oblivion at the Wild Pony, because he's giving Maria some space, he's been getting less sleep than usual.

A sharp rap on the truck window startles him hard enough that the truck jumps with him.

He looks up to see Alex and feels equal amounts of relief and dread.

Alex looked concerned, and while Michael knows that he wouldn’t be here without a good reason, he really doesn't want to deal with whatever it is that Alex has to say. 

At least not without copious amounts of alcohol.

He motions for Alex to move back and opens the door.

Alex steps back accordingly and steps into the light cast by the closest lamp post and Michael gets a good look at his face and sees that he's not the only one who's been sleeping badly. 

Michael had been trying really hard not to think about Alex since he walked away, again. After saying that he was tired of walking away.

If Michael is being one hundred percent honest with himself, he's been hoping that Alex would come across something alien related that he would need Michael's help with, so that he would come back.

But he hadn't let himself really think about it.

"What are you doing here, Alex?" He asks when Alex just stands there watching him as though he's in a trance. 

"I expected not to see you again for another six weeks at least," he continues when Alex just blinks at him.

The words seem to spark something because Alex's face loses that dazed look and shakes his head before he steps forward again, looking a little manic.

"I'm here because I don't want to keep secrets from you, either," he starts and Michael freezes, looking at him with wide eyes. "And there's something that you have to see."

***

They spend ten minutes arguing over taking Alex’s car or the truck, and then ten more minutes arguing over who is driving, until Alex sways and has to reach out to catch himself on the side of the car, and Michael just tugs the keys right out of his hand and snatches them out of the air.

Alex looks at him accusingly, but gets into the passenger seat of his car.

They drive in silence for about five minutes after Alex tells him to head towards the old Air Force Base, until Alex sighs and seems to lose whatever strength was keeping him sitting upright with perfect posture, like Michael was a stranger instead of someone he’s gotten naked with.

He moves and Michael can see him out of the corner of his eye settling himself so that he can see Michael, as much as the seatbelt lets him move.

He leans his head against the headrest and Michael can feel Alex’s gaze on him.

He swallows hard and clenches his fingers around the steering wheel.

“Kyle got these letters that my father has been desperate to get his hands on from Jim, written days before he died. They were in code, but we managed to break it.”

Michael clenches his jaw, and his knuckles go white, and he can hear the engine of the car revving even though he hasn’t stepped down on the gas.

“You and Kyle, huh?” and he can’t help the way his voice goes a little brittle.

He can feel Alex rolling his eyes. “Yes, the keyword to break the cypher was something that I would’ve never been able to figure out on my own.”

“So we’re just forgiving him for the hell he put you through?”

He hears Alex scoffing, but he can hear the smile in his voice when he talks. “High school is ten years to the left, Guerin. There’s more important things to be worried about, like the old abandoned prison, Caulfield, that’s maybe not so abandoned.”

Michael darts a look at Alex, who is looking back at him with eyes that aren’t hiding anything at all.

He must be more exhausted than Michael thought. 

Michael looks back to the road. “Don’t tell me. More alien secrets. Let me guess. The actual remaining pieces of the ship, stripped bare. Its technology being what has advanced technology in the US for the last seventy years?”

Alex stays silent, and when Michael looks back at him to see that he’s staring out of the windshield and to the stars.

“Alex?” he says, licking his lips.

Alex inhales deeply, clenching his jaw.

Before he says anything a phone rings loud and jarring in the silent car.

Alex tugs his phone from the front pocket of his jacket and sighs.

“What is it, Kyle?” he answers leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes as he listens to whatever Kyle is saying.

“I’m not going back to the bunker tonight,” Alex says and it sounds like he’s repeating what Kyle is saying.

“I’m not lying,” Alex says sighing. “I’m not going there alone, I promise.”

He scoffs and Michael can just see him rolling his eyes.

“I always do,” Alex answers whatever Kyle asked, and then hangs up the phone.

He inhales deeply again. “I think that maybe I’ll wait to tell you the rest with proof.”

Michael darts a look at him, at the way that he’s refusing to turn back and look at Michael and just pushes the car over the speed limit.

***

“I went to Caulfield,” Alex says when Michael turns the car off and plunges them into darkness.

Michael swallows hard. 

"And found above human average heat signatures."

Michael feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

"No way," he says immediately knowing where Alex is heading with this. "You can't mean-"

"We both know you run hot, Guerin."

And Michael can't believe that he actually said that, but he ignores the teasing tilt to his voice and concentrates on the rest of the conversation.

"There's no way. We would've felt something."

"I figured you'd say that. That's why we're here," Alex says and then gets out of the car before Michael can ask what he means. 

Michael follows behind him as he heads towards a rusty door that would lead down into a bunker, and turns him around before Alex can lean down to open them.

"What did you do?"

Alex looks at Michael and bites down on his lip before he inhales deeply and speaks. 

"I found that my father is keeping everything within the family, and people who he can either blackmail to work with him or scare into working for him, so it wasn’t that difficult to figure out the weak point to exploit. I hacked into the system from here and gave myself access using my brother's username and password and have been looking through the files and the security footage, because I wanted to confirm it before I told you anything."

Michael lets him go and Alex just nods once before he's leaning back down to open the doors.

Michael follows him down into the bunker, trying not to feel like he's being led to an execution, but it's difficult when he thinks about what this bunker was probably used for back in the day. 

Alex leads him into a small room, the space mostly taken up by a small conference table and the multiple monitors of a desktop that are all on. Some are crunching data and numbers, decoding and copying files too fast for Michael to actually read anything and others flashing through different camera footage, some live, some from the archives, once again everything is being copied into the servers here.

But the one thing that catches and traps Michael's attention is the piece of shimmering glass on top of the table. The biggest piece that he's ever seen besides the one he's been attempting to assemble his entire life.

He takes a step towards it and Alex makes a noise in his throat. "That's mine. Don't touch it."

Michael halts and turns to Alex who looks back at him steadily.

Michael's brow furrows and Alex just raises an eyebrow. 

"I found it, so I get to keep it."

Michael gives Alex a look of disbelief.

"And besides, I think you're going to find this much more important than that."

Michael sighs and then walks to where Alex is sitting down in front of the computer, looking at Alex trying to figure out what he's playing at.

"Don't look at me like that," Alex says as he turns towards the screen in front of him. "You know I'd do anything to keep you on this planet."

Michael sees how the back of his neck and ears goes red, which means that he hadn't meant to say any of that.

"Can we just ignore that and concentrate on this?" 

He makes a motion towards the monitors, and while Michael really wants to talk about that comment, he inhales deeply and looks towards the monitors.

"What am I supposed to-?"

Alex types something on the keyboard and one of the bigger monitors changes to a single camera view of the inside of an empty cell.

Michael distantly notes that the date is from 1947, but his heart starts beating rapidly in his chest when a woman is thrown inside of the cell. He can’t hear what she’s saying, but she’s slamming her hands against the glass doors, and he can only imagine that she’s yelling.

He moves closer, and feels Alex moving the chair to the side, before he clicks on the keyboard and the footage starts cycling through faster.

Michael watches as they drag her out and back over and over again, and how she rages and fights until one day she comes back and seems like a shell.

She doesn’t move, lying down on the cot for several days, and then it’s almost like she notices the camera for the first time.

She looks at it, and comes closer, and Michael’s breath catches painfully in his throat, and he steps even closer, a hand reaching out as the image pauses on her face.

“I know her,” Michael says, feeling like he’s having an out of body experience.

“You have her eyes,” Alex says voice soft and shaking.

Michael blinks several times, and he looks at Alex who is looking at the monitor with a sad expression on his face.

Michael looks back to the image, and he can see it, and other similarities, the shape of her mouth, and the arch of her brow.

“What are you trying to say?” Michael asks out of breath.

“I think she’s your-” Alex starts and trails off, swallowing hard.

“My mother,” Michael finishes for him. “Is this live?”

Alex doesn’t respond, only presses the keyboard again, and the image flickers and changes and Michael sees the red blinking light in the corner and the date and time stamped on one edge.

He can make out her form lying down on the cot, looking out of the glass. 

Her eyes are closed and she looks so frail, and so much older.

Michael’s breath shudders out of him.

“How many?” he asks voice just barely shaking.

“Currently there are twenty two cells under constant surveillance, but there’s no way of knowing for sure, until we go there ourselves.”

Michael nods his head, and darts a look at Alex, who is looking at him, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot, “Then what are we still doing here?”

Alex sits up at that. “Guerin, we can’t just-”

“You mean you can’t,” Michael says sneering in Alex’s direction, and feeling a small stab of satisfaction when Alex looks away. “I’m not tied to the government or to the man in charge of that facility. I don’t have any obligation to just sit around and-”

“I’m not just sitting around doing nothing,” Alex snaps standing up and making Michael take a step back, startled. “But we can’t just go guns blazing, Guerin! There are security measures that we need to consider, and-”

“There is literally nothing that can stand in my way,” Michael says waving a hand to the side and sweeping the table and the other chairs towards the back of the bunker.

“It’s not that simple-” Alex starts taking a step towards him.

Michael takes several steps back, shaking his head. “It’s as simple as they’ve been trapped for decades and I refuse to let it go on any longer.”

Michael turns and heads towards the exit.

“Guerin!” Alex calls out to him, and Michael speeds up when he hears him walking down the stairs that lead up the monitors.

He makes it out of the bunker, and is almost at the car, when Alex tackles him to the ground.

Michael is just angry enough to fight back, but Alex overpowers him easily, trapping him on the ground on his back with his hands wrapped around his wrists keeping them above his head, with his knees on either side of Michael’s hips, the weight of his body keeping Michael on the ground.

“Listen to me,”Alex says as he leans over him.

Michael pants and pulls against Alex’s hold, only for Alex to tighten his fingers and lean even heavier against him.

Michael bucks his hips up and Alex just rolls with the movement, pressing in even closer. Until Michael just expels a sharp breath and glares at Alex mutinously. 

"Are you done?" Alex asks, and Michael just sighs and looks away from him.

"I know what this means to you," Alex starts, fingers going tight around Michael's wrists before he lets go and sits up, making Michael's gaze snap back to him.

"I was going to wait until I had it all figured out to tell you. I've been working day and night since I found out trying to figure out how to counter the security measures and how to disable the bomb that will go off if you try to open any cell without using the passcode, but I-"

He swallows hard and shakes his head not looking away from Michael, "I couldn't not tell you after I saw her face, and knew what it could mean."

Michael can't seem to find it in himself to speak, but Alex just sighs and looks away.

"You can hate me afterwards if you want," he says. "But I'm not going to let you go there alone, and I'm not going to let you kill yourself trying to get them out. I want to save them too, but we're going to do this right, okay?"

He looks back down at Michael and Michael exhales and shakes his head. 

"I don't want them to be there any longer, Alex. This ends tonight."

Alex stares at him for a long moment and Michael doesn't know what kind of face he makes, but Alex nods his head after a couple of minutes.

"Okay," he says, and inhales deeply before he moves, getting to his feet and turns and heads back inside of the bunker.

Michael inhales deeply, looks up at the bright twinkling stars, and then exhales harshly.

He pushes himself up, and follows Alex.

***

Michael doesn't realize that he's fallen asleep until he feels Alex's fingers gently tugging on his hair and sliding down the back of his neck, a soft caress to rouse him.

Since the last time that Alex had woken him up by shaking him, Michael had almost punched him in the face.

Michael leans into the touch for a second, before he remembers where they are and what they're doing.

He sits up a little too fast and Alex's fingers catch a little painfully in his curls before he manages to pull his hand away.

Michael feels dazed for a second trying to clear the fog of sleep from his brain. 

He remembers coming after Alex and deciding against sitting at the table to drop right on the floor next to Alex, eyes trained on the single monitor that didn’t change from the view of the cell of the woman who Alex called his mother.

Michael had gathered his knees to his chest and had rested his face against them trying not to think about it too much because then the rage would take over with no target besides the obvious.

And besides he had to save all of that rage so that he’d be strong enough to help when Alex figured out what to do.

He remembers moving too much, because he was full of restless energy, until Alex had asked him how good he was with rewiring and Michael had scoffed and grabbed the box of different parts that Alex had obviously been using to create some sort of handheld transceiver.

The task was mindless for Michael, and it always helped to do something with his hands, always seemed to calm the restless energy in his mind to focus so entirely on fixing or creating something instead of worrying about things that were out of his control.

He’d finished and had felt gravity tug at him until he leaned his head on top of Alex’s thigh, and had sighed wrapping a hand around his ankle, fingers pressing into the cool skin.

Alex had jumped a little, but had settled a hand on Michael’s hair, petting him almost absently.

Michael must’ve fallen asleep sometime then.

He looks up at Alex now, and feels his heart start to race at the look on his face, the wild look in his eyes and how his lips are stretched into a smile.

“I figured it out,” he breathes, and Michael’s heart starts beating even faster.

“Yeah?” Michael asks moving so that he’s kneeling bseides Alex, whose smile widens even more.

“Definitely,” he says, and there is a strange catch to his voice, but Michael is too busy feeling the surge of adrenaline pouring through him as he pulls himself to his feet using Alex’s chair, and then tugs him out of the chair in one movement, while Alex yelps and grabs on to him to find his balance, to actually pay attention to it.

“Wait,” he says as Michael makes to drag them both out of the bunker and to the car. “There are a few things I have to get.”

Michael stops and stares at him and Alex rolls his eyes.

“It’ll take like five more minutes,” he says and pulls away from Michael to walk over to the table.

Michael rocks on his heels watching as Alex grabs the black bag leaning against the table and starts to pack it with stuff that had scattered and clattered to the floor earlier. 

It takes him exactly five minutes to grab everything, including the two handheld transceivers that Michael had put together and swing the bag over his shoulder before turning to him.

Michael gave him a look, and Alex rolls his eyes. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

Michael shrugs and turns.

Alex scoffs walking after him. “Not all of us can move things with our brains, or contact others with our brains, or take people out with one single shocking touch, okay?”

Michael rolls his eyes, and tries not to let the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth stretch across his face.

This time Alex doesn’t fight him as he heads to the driver’s seat. He just gets in the car and sets up the GPS.

The roads are dark and silent, and the closer they get to Caulfield the more the restless feeling inside of Michael calms down.

Alex doesn’t say much as he studies the tablet in his hands with an intense look of concentration, tapping something occasionally. 

Michael’s eyes dart to the time on the dashboard and realizes that it was almost five in the morning.

His eyes dart back to Alex, who is squinting at his tablet, and thinks about him working nonstop for the last couple of hours just because Michael said he wanted it over with tonight, and thinks about the fact that Alex admitted to working on this nonstop for days.

“When was the last time you actually slept?” Michael asks and Alex jumps as though he had forgotten that Michael was there.

He looks at Michael and blinks at him several times. 

“A little under seventy five hours ago,” Alex answers and then looks back at the tablet. “But don’t worry. Kyle made sure I took a nap yesterday, granted it was only for an hour, but it helped. I can go longer without sleeping and it won’t affect my ability to correctly interpret information. It does, however, affect my brain to mouth filter, as you already know.”

Michael licks his lips and opens his mouth to tell Alex that he should sleep for at least the twenty more minutes it was going to take them to get to Caulfield when his phone rings.

He sighs and pulls it out of his pocket. “What is it now, Kyle?”

Michael turns to look back at the road as Alex makes a face at whatever Kyle said.

“That’s because we’re on our way to Caulfield right now.”

And then he sighs, and Michael can hear Kyle yelling.

“I know I promised-” Alex starts and stops when Kyle cuts him off.

“No, I’m not doing that,” Alex snaps. “We have one shot at this and I’m not going to miss it waiting for you. Get there if you must, but we’re doing this now.”

Kyle says something before Alex can hang up the phone, and Alex exhales harshly. “I get it okay? But all the information you need to know is right there at the bunker on the drives. I’m not going to sit down and just watch when there’s something that I can do about this.”

Alex hangs up and then turns his phone off and throws it into the glove compartment.

He sighs and shakes his head.

“Kyle is on his way,” he says, and Michael darts a look at him to see him rolling his eyes as he looks down at the tablet.

“What do you mean we have one shot?” Michael asks instead, and he can feel the way that Alex freezes a little before he inhales deeply.

“There’s a shift change at five thirty, a small window of opportunity where we can get inside undetected, and once we’re in the rest will fall into place, easily.”

This time Michael’s eyes narrow at the strange hitch in his voice.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Alex is quiet for long enough that Michael feels the dread spill through him.

“Flint is going to be there,” he says, and Michael can tell that that’s not it, but before he can ask, the GPS sounds out jarring them both, letting them know that they are five miles away from their destination.

Michael decides to let it drop for now, and steps harder on the gas.

Once the building appears in their line of vision, Alex makes Michael turn the car lights off, and they slow to a stop several feet away from what looks like an abandoned school bus.

Michael turns the car off and looks at the building. It’s dark and quiet and looks abandoned, but Michael knows better than anyone that things aren't always what they seem.

Michael closes his eyes, inhaling deeply and concentrates and trying to see if he can sense anyone.

His breath caught in his throat as he feels a wave of something that feels like an amalgamation of at least thirty people just like him, screaming and crying out in pain.

He opens his eyes when he feels Alex's hand on his shoulder, and turns to him, and he can feel how wet his eyes are, so he can only imagine the face that he must be making.

"Okay," Alex says after staring at him for a few minutes. "Are you really sure you want to do this? I can always wait for Kyle and wait for the next shift change."

Michael looks at Alex as for a beat and shakes his head, before he gets out of the car without saying a word.

He walks until he's right next to the bus, and Alex follows after him after taking a few seconds to get his bag.

"Okay, we've got a few minutes, so just follow me, and we'll be fine."

Michael just nods his head, trying to tamp down the restless jittery feeling that started to overwhelm him.

"Here," Alex says and Michael turns to him and Alex hands him one of the handheld transceivers with an earpiece. "I've already paired them, just turn the dial and we're set."

Michael gave him a look, and Alex just smiles a little before putting his own earpiece into his ear and tucking the radio to his pants.

Michael does the same, and Alex nods his head before he pulls the tablet back out from his back and moves so that he’s rounding the front of the bus.

Michael follows after him, watching as Alex gets into soldier mode, how his posture straightens out, how his feet are shoulder width apart, how even his breathing evens out steadily where Michael can hear it echoed in the earpiece he’s wearing.

“Okay,” Alex says again, and looks at his watch before he looks at Michael. “Remember follow exactly the path I take. We’re using the camera’s blindspot, just in case there is anyone in the control room.”

Michael nods his head, and when Alex moves, he follows right behind him.

They get inside easily, and Michael becomes distracted as the feeling that overwhelmed him in the car gets stronger to really watch where he’s going so he bumps into Alex when Alex stops in the middle of where the hall branches out into three corridors and a set of stairs. 

“Look,” Alex says, wrapping a hand around Michael’s arm and turning him towards the stairs. “Go up three flights until you hit the N corridor, that’s where they’re keeping everyone. Wait for my signal, and don’t freak out if anyone walks by, just hide. They do a cursory check right at the beginning of the shift, but I doubt they’ll enter the room since it’s too early for anyone to be awake yet.”

“Wait,” Michael says as Alex turns to head towards the corridor in the center. Alex stops but doesn’t turn to him. “Where are you going?”

Alex takes a second before he turns to him, and Michael knows that he’s hiding something. 

“I have to get to the control room. It’s the only way to disable everything. It shouldn’t take long, and you have a direct line to me at all times.”

He points towards the earpiece, and Michael relaxes minutely, because he has a point, but there is still something that Alex isn’t telling him.

Alex seems to realize that Michael isn’t completely placated, because he sighs shaking his head, before he gives Michael a serious look.

“Trust me, Guerin. I know what I’m doing.”

“I do trust you,” Michael says immediately. 

“Good,” Alex says nodding and then points towards the stairs with his chin. “I’ll see you later.”

He turns and Michael grabs him again, turning him around, and Alex looks at him startled.

Michael exhales roughly, and squeezes his arm once before he lets him go. “Just, be careful.”

Alex swallows hard and licks his lips, eyes darting to Michael’s mouth and away. “Only if you are.”

Michael huffs out a breath and shakes his head. “I’m going to do exactly what you said. Wait for your signal.”

Alex nods his head. “I promise we’ll get them out of here before the sun rises.”

Michael gives him a long look before he nods his head and turns towards the stairs.

He hears Alex’s footsteps as he walks down the corridor before he’s climbing up the stairs and can’t hear anything else but his own footsteps and Alex breathing in his ear.

Finding where everyone is kept isn’t that difficult, what is difficult is the psychic wave that sweeps through him that tells him he found them. These are his people. His people in cages.

It's hard to not do something, and he must make some sort of noise without realizing it because Alex speaks, startling Michael.

"I know it has to be overwhelming," he says sounding sympathetic. "Seeing something for yourself and not behind a screen always is, but please wait for my signal. I’m almost there.”

Michael opens his mouth to speak when he looks over at one of the cells and his entire nervous system just shuts down.

The feeling is much, much, much more overwhelming in person.

He moves almost like he’s hypnotized, until he’s touching the glass that prevents him from entering the room.

She sits up immediately staring at him with wide shocked eyes and Michael needs to get into this cell right now.

"Guerin," Alex's voice is a warning and a reminder, that Michael really wants to ignore.

Until the sound of gunshots echo through the earpiece and Alex makes a low, pained hissing sound, and mutters a heartfelt, "Fuck."

"Alex," Michael says looking away from the glass and turning his face to the side he has the earpiece in like that will help him see what's going on.

"I'm fine," Alex says, grunting in pain. "Give me a sec."

Then Michael hears another low grunt that doesn't sound like Alex followed the sounds a short scuffle, and then something hard and plastic cracking against someone's skull.

Alex exhales roughly then, and Michael hears him drop whatever he used to knock the guard out to the floor.

"Okay," Alex says. "If they know I'm here, they probably know you are too. Protect yourself by any means necessary, Guerin. I'm at the door to the control room, the lights will start flashing as soon as I unlock the doors. Ignore them."

He's panting heavily by the time he finishes talking which makes it hard for Michael to concentrate on what he's saying.

 "Alex," he starts again, and he can hear the worried edge to his tone.

"Trust me, Guerin," he says. "I've had worse injuries. I'm fine."

There is a rapid beeping noise and then the sound of a door unlocking, and Alex making a low noise in victory at the back of his throat.

Michael feels a low throb at the back of his neck, like someone is tugging on a line directly connected to his brain, and he inhales sharply, turning towards the glass door again.

She has her hand pressed to the glass, eyes wide open and full of tears as she watches him like she's drinking him in. Her palm starts glowing a soft red as Michael watches her, and Michael steps closer, pressing his hand to the glass.

The connection snaps between them automatically like it was dormant in his brain and just waiting for the right person to come along and bring it to life.

His eyes fall shut as he inhales sharply, and he could see her clearly in his mind just like she looked when she was first thrown into the cell.

--Once Michael gets everyone out, he asks Alex where he is, and Alex tells him that he's been stalling the bomb to give Michael enough time to leave.

--Goodbyes and ANGST

--When it seems like all hope is lost, Mara steps up and shows Michael that he can convert the energy expelled by the bomb into energy that can sustain him.

--He does what she says, and saves Alex who passed out because he'd gotten shot, he saves Alex.

--He staggers outside with him as the sun starts peeking over the horizon, he staggers to his mom, who helps him to the ground, along with Alex, who is still breathing, but weak since he lost a lot of blood. Michael only lets himself pass out when he hears Max’s terrified, “Michael!”

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 11: Behind the scenes (Part 5)

Warnings: torture

Author notes: a part longer than the others, with a lot of... Eh... Dialogue. Hope you’ll like it! ;)

Kunikida and I sighed, exhausted by the situation. The illusionist had jumped in front of a moving train and had, obviously, not survived. He had revealed us rather important information about the Taikin family but, soon after, had given up on life for a reason we could not comprehend. Unless he had been threatened… Then, by who?

"This is getting annoying and nerve-wracking." My coworker let himself fall into a sofa, back in the mansion.

"We can't give up now, we have to find Yumiko-san's route with these videos…" I murmured, focused "Dazai, how was it with the servants?"

"Well~" He hummed, sitting next to me "I haven't found anything for the moment, but there are so many people, it's quite a hard job~ Couldn't you scan the entire place thanks to your ability, Ogawa~?"

"... You know that, were I to do that, I would collapse, don't you…? And I can't afford it, not when that case needs to be closed for the sake of innocent kids…!"

"You can rely on me — on us — for the rest if you need to, Ogawa." He assured "Just find the mentalist here, and get some sleep…"

"You always slack off…"

"Even she noticed it." Kunikida commented "She's right, we need her awake for the moment."

"But Yumiko-san's whereabouts are unknown because of that." Dazai defended "Not to mention Sakunosuke-kun could have been sold overseas for all we know…"

"He is still in Japan, you know that too…" I looked up at my friend, tiredly "Don't pretend you truly care about the case… You don't give a damn about that family…"

"Do you?"

"Not a chance." I smirked "I just want to protect two children and put in jail whoever needs to go there."

"... You don't actually mean it, do you…?" Our blond colleague frowned.

"I'm not a liar. I'll find the mentalist and interrogate them. You and Dazai work on the videos for now, we'll improvise afterwards." I said and stood up from my chair.

"But, Ogawa —"

"Let her go." Dazai prevented him from stopping me "Do what you do best, Ogawa."

"Indeed. Interrogating." I chuckled "Leave it to me."

I headed upstairs, towards the servants' quarters. At such a tardy hour, they had all gone to sleep, but, even so, lingering thoughts remained in their brains. From them originated dreams, another form of people's inner desires, albeit more… Fanciful. If anyone had thought about mentalism, it would show immediately. Quietly, I sat down in the middle of the corridor and closed my eyes to concentrate on the whispers coming to my mind uninvited. Chimeric images invaded my own thoughts, visions of whimsical worlds mixing up together. Something about mentalism… Anything related to hypnotism…

I found my culprit the moment a dream about illusions made its way to my brain. Immediately, I spotted the room where its owner was sleeping. As quietly as usual, I sneaked inside and identified the servant. It was a young maid, perhaps in her twenties. She slept so soundly that she would never notice if I were to smother her with a pillow. She would simply be put to sleep… Forever… No, I could not afford to do that. The information she could provide me was far more important than my anger against her. Even so, I did not use any delicacy as I woke her up and covered her mouth to stop her from screaming. With a clear gesture, I demanded her to follow me out of the room. She immediately complied, feared for her life. And I brought her back to the dining room.

"You were fast." Dazai noted, arms crossed and back against the chair.

"But I'm completely done for…" I groaned, shoving the maid toward him "After that, I'm going to sleep."

"Well, I'll let you interrogate her, then." He shrugged.

Kunikida only stared at me with a strange look. In his eyes, I could see a mix of disapproval and apprehension. Or was it fear…? And was it a tint of curiosity there…? I grinned slightly. It had been a while since I had last sat in front of someone to question them. I brought her to an empty room nearby.

"What do you want from me…?" She asked, completely panicked.

"Quiet." I ordered "I'm the one who asks questions here. And, oh, don't even think about using hypnotism on me, it doesn't work."

"I-I don't know… What you're talking about…"

I exhaled and closed the door, before tying her to the chair with a rope I had taken with me earlier.

"No use lying to me either. I'm basically a lie detector." I warned her "So I advise you speak up quickly. Where is Yumiko-san?"

"I don't know…"

"Alright, suppose you don't know. What's your name?"

"M-My… Name…? It's Isobe… Isobe Hanako..." She stuttered.

"Cute." I commented "Give me a minute, will you? I'll be right back."

With a smile, I left her in the room to walk back to the detectives. There, I grabbed Kunikida's computer.

"Hey, what —"

"I only need a minute." I typed quickly "All done, thanks."

"Ogawa… No need to go too far." Dazai told me.

"You know I hate cleaning blood…" I answered simply.

When I went back to Isobe Hanako, she still had a terrified look in her eyes. Calmly, I sat in front of her and scrutinised her face.

"Mmh… You don't look like a bad girl. I still can't believe you did that…"

"Did what…?"

"Harassed that poor girl until she committed suicide. You weren't alone, your friends in high school pretty much participated too, but you were the perpetrator, weren't you? The leader. The one behind the attacks." I crossed my legs to be more comfortable "What did she do to you, I wonder… Stealing your boyfriend? Getting better grades than you? Being more… Appreciated than you? Being more beautiful than you? So, what did she do to you?"

"How do you… How do you know that…?" She started crying.

"I'm well-informed. Now, if you don't want the world to know about the girl who mysteriously disappeared after making a classmate die, if you want to keep living quietly, without any troubles, it's easy. You can just answer my questions."

"No… I can't…"

I got closer to her so I could grip her shoulders tightly.

"My… You don't seem to understand… Very well, then. I will sell the news of your position to the media. And…" I lowered my voice "I will find dirt about your entire family. None of you will be able to survive the disaster coming to you and that is your fault. But don't worry… None of you will die… I'll only make sure that your life becomes a literal hell."

"No! Not my family…" She sobbed "Leave mom and dad alone… I'll talk okay? I'll tell you what you want to know, so leave them alone…!"

"That's a good girl." I smiled at her "Now… Where is Yumiko-san and why did you put her under hypnosis?"

"I… I don't know… Where she is… She… Went to find her son..."

"Oh…"

Swiftly, I grabbed one of her fingers and broke it. She screamed in pain.

"Needless to say, I hate lies." I shrugged it off "So?"

"You're a monster…" She hiccuped as tears ran onto her face.

"It's up to you whether you talk to me or lie to me. I'm not a monster, you're just quite stubborn. Hurry now, I don't have all night. I'd like some sleep too, you know."

"I… She… I received an order… I had to make her kill the mentalist Nazo Eita… I just told her… 'Kill Nazo Eita'... She went out and… She must be in Kabukichō…"

"Thanks." I took notes "Who gave you that order?"

"I don't know…"

I broke a second finger.

"Who gave you that order?" I repeated, without losing composure.

"His brother…!" She finally revealed "He's my teacher…! Please! Stop hurting me!"

"His brother… Oh… I see… It was the third one, Nozaki the Grand. Now you say so, he did change a bit his last name to create a whole new one…" I snickered "Smart… And he had his brother killed… Why would he use Yumiko-san for that, though…?"

"I can't say…"

"It seems you don't care about your fingers…" I sighed and reached for her hand "Are you sure about your answer?"

"S-She's the perfect… Culprit…" Her voice shook "Even if sh-she's arrested, Taikin-san won't be bothered… She's just a pawn…"

"Ah… I think I understand now… Thank you for your answer." I let go of her finger.

"Is… Is it over now…?"

"You're going to resign from this job." I stated "And you'll live far, far from that mansion."

"I… I can't…! That's my job…!"

"It's fine with me, then. Then, I'll have you arrested."

"W-Wait —"

I pulled out a gun and knocked her out with the pommel. She did not deserve that I wasted a single bullet for her. A dog who bit its master… It was useless. And it angered me.

"Make her sign a complete confession when she wakes up." I asked my coworkers "She's the one who ordered Yumiko-san to kill Nazo-san. He was pushed under the train. That maid obeyed the third mentalist of the list, Nozaki the Grand, who is none other than Nazo-san's brother. They worked together for the Taikin family."

"Ten minutes…" Dazai checked the time "You're getting rusty~"

"I only had a minute to look for information, after all. Had I had a complete file about her, it would have been much easier." I put my head on the table.

"She's… Asleep…?" Kunikida raised an eyebrow.

"Knocked out. Nothing too bad. We may need to call Yosano-sensei for her fingers, too." I mumbled.

"Violence? Truly, Ogawa, your skills are decreasing~" My friend laughed.

"Not at all…" I cracked a smile "It's just hard without information."

"Wait a minute… How can you two joke about that…?!" Our bespectacled colleague sounded upset "You basically tortured the poor girl, that's not interrogating…!"

Upon seeing my face, he quickly headed inside the other room, from where we heard a shocked gasp. His steps were quick to bring him back.

"You destroyed her hand…! And her face…!"

"Kunikida… I broke two fingers and punched her jaw… Don't exaggerate…" I rolled my eyes.

"If she even has a trace of psychological issues after that, I swear, you will not join the Agency, unless you step on my dead body…!" He menaced.

I immediately sat up, then clicked my tongue. The Agency… For a moment, most certainly due to exhaustion, I had forgotten about the rules of this world. Could I not interrogate someone normally…? Negotiating with them, instead of threatening them…?

"She won't have side effects… I don't think she will… I mean… I went pretty easy on her…"

I had the terrible feeling that I was worsening the situation instead of helping it.

"Easy…? For goodness' sake, Ogawa…! She's disfigured…! And her cheeks are still stained by tears, what did you tell her…?!" He argued.

"Fine! Fine…"

I fidgeted with my fingers.

"I… Did forget myself and use methods from underground organisations…" I admitted.

"Goddammit, you —"

"Calm down now." Dazai stopped the detective from grabbing my collar "It's done, now. It is true that the method was… Doubtful, but, at the very least, we have a confession. Besides, for knowing her, Ogawa did go easy on her, don't worry."

"I don't care what 'easy' means to you, but that girl… She'll be traumatised…! How do you prevent that, eh…?!"

"Why… People feared retribution too much and were too grateful to be left alive to really care…" I recalled "But you know… Usually… We just killed them…"

"And how am I supposed to react to that…?" He breathed out "I can't even believe I started trusting you…! You and I… We have nothing in common…! You can never belong to the Armed Detective Agency!"

I stood up and grabbed my coat to take my leave. That was my mistake. I had failed.

"Don't you want to sleep before going?" Dazai suggested.

"It's fine…" I assured him "I'm an idiot for letting my only chance to live slip through my fingers, anyway…"

I then turned toward them to offer them my brightest smile.

"Thank you for allowing me to try. Now, I know I can never reach that world you live in. It was very fun, these days with you…!" I waved at them.

I could see Dazai did not like that I had given up so easily. However, there was no way I could work righteously and save that family… They would have to try without me. And I… I would go back to my home.

[cleverlittlejay]

Raphael anon back once again with a hilarious thought: Family therapy with Crowley, Lucifer, Gabriel, & Micheal and it’s just so wild & the poor therapist is so confused. They assume it’s just rich people scandals & shenanigans but all of these drama queens in a room together trying to work through over 6,000 years of family issues while some poor human tries to keep everything from becoming a chaotic nightmare without the full story of what’s going on is infinitely funny to me.

hello, anon! this was such a delight to write! also, fun fact, i’m a psych major and took one (1) intro to counseling psych class, but that actually helped in writing this, so that was fun! This is also super long (1k words!) so it also goes under a read more. (another fun fact: i stole the name Dr. Martin from Lucifer on Netflix because why not.) 

(one more fun fact, i genuinely hate the Neflix!Lucifer stereotype that a psychiatrist who went to med school would be a therapist. it’s two different fields. ok sorry, it’s fic time)

Dr. Martin was good at her job. She worked hard to become a therapist, and she genuinely believed that she could help her clients. It’s why she started her private practice. 

Her next appointment was a family therapy session. She briefly wondered how her secretary forgot to mention that she had an appointment or that she had new clients at all, but these mistakes happen. Sometimes computers just don’t want to work, deleting emails and not saving the clients’ last names in the file. 

The family consisted of four siblings. Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel, and Anthony J Crowley. Anthony, she learned, preferred to be called Crowley, and the other three siblings did not share that last name. 

The four siblings did not get along. At all. And they wanted to, Crowley explained, but they just couldn’t see eye to eye. 

“It all started when Mother kicked me out,” Lucifer said. “More specifically, she had Michael kick me out because she’s–”

“Because,” Michael interrupted, “you were an awful son who refused to listen to her. Causing trouble, thinking you’re better than her. Asking questions.” That last part was clearly directed at Crowley, who offered a light shrug. 

“Interrupting isn’t kind, Michael,” Dr. Martin said. “Please let Lucifer talk, and then you can say your part.”

If looks could kill, Dr. Martin would’ve died a hundred times over in her career. Michael’s glare was terrifying, but she’d seen it all before. 

The final picture was that their mother kicked out Lucifer and Crowley due to rebelliousness. The two questioned her authority and so they had to be removed before they corrupted any others. Now, after the disappearance of their mother, the siblings decided to get together again and reconnect.

A cult, Dr. Martin realized. She was working with the aftereffects of a cult. The religious names, the absolute authority, the punishment that included some kind of fire, the isolation from others, it all painted a very clear but dark picture.

She thanked them for their openness and had her secretary book their next appointment. 

Then, she realized how much she didn’t know about cults–she owned a private practice, she didn’t work with law enforcement or social services–and began her research. She read articles on cult-related family dynamics and trauma. She even called her old colleague for some direction. 

The next session, the two eldest siblings focussed on each other. As Lucifer and Michael went on, Crowley and Gabriel seemed content to watch them argue as Dr. Martin futilely attempted to control the session. 

“Even now, you’re a pest,” Michael sneered, ignoring the no-interruptions rule. “Your demons cause nothing but trouble and you barely control them.”

Inner demons were difficult to control, sometimes spiralling and causing issues in real life. It took strength to admit that you need support in fighting your battles.

Lucifer spoke before Dr. Martin could voice that. 

“Maybe you should control your angels, Michael. Always wandering into trouble, making friends with demons and then getting hurt. It’s almost as if they don’t respect your command.”

“Tell your demons to stop fraternizing with the enemy!”

“Hey,” Crowley interrupted. “I thought that sides don’t matter anymore. I can fraternize with an angel if I wanted to.”

“Now, yes, but not before,” Michael said patronizingly, as if she was leading the session rather than Dr. Martin. “But you endangered yourself and Aziraphale by being with him.”

“Not like Aziraphale was in danger,” Gabriel grumbled. “He got away with it.”

The session ended without any of the siblings making any progress. It was fine, Dr. Martin rationed. Progress is not always linear, and she needed to first create a safe space where they were comfortable speaking up. 

She also realized that her original theory was wrong. It wasn’t a cult. It was the mob. 

Different sides, angels and demons, both told that the other is the enemy. Perhaps Lucifer and Crowley disagreed with their “mother’s” rule and were punished for noncompliance. Michael was clearly the enforcer, punishing those who stepped out of line. It blurred the definition of “sibling,” but it explained the disdain that Lucifer and Michael had for each other. 

This realization led to a new line of research. The mob was harder to research from a psychological or counseling therapy perspective, and Dr. Martin ended up making even more calls to colleagues and old professors. 

“First a cult and now the mob,” her old classmate laughed. “You have some interesting clients.”

Dr. Martin refused to admit that she was wrong about the cult. No one had to know. 

She changed her strategy during their next session. The past was important to understanding a person, but perhaps it was better to focus on the present. 

“Despite everything that happened, Lucifer and Crowley being kicked out and you being forced to lead, how do you feel about Lucifer right now?” 

Michael didn’t answer immediately, which was a good sign. When she answered, she didn’t look at Lucifer or speak to him directly, but she knew that he was there and listening to her.  

“I don’t hate him,” Michael said slowly. “He’s still my brother. I didn’t have a choice, you know. I had to do it.” 

Dr. Martin could imagine the lack of choice. It was likely that if Michael didn’t do as told, she would’ve also been punished. It was coercion, and Michael couldn’t be held fully accountable. 

“I don’t hate you, either,” Lucifer said. There was a forced air of casualness around him, protecting Michael from rejection. “You’re still my baby sister. No fall can change that, Micah.”

Progress. It took three sessions and a lot of pain and bitterness, but they were making progress. Michael and Lucifer finally broke through their hard shells to admit that there is a possibility to move forward in their relationship with genuine love and affection. That kind of hope was why Dr. Martin was a therapist in the first place. 

Dr. Martin scheduled their next appointment. She was hopeful for their next session, creating an outline that would include more dialogue and encourage the younger two siblings to speak more often. The four of them had hope yet. 

Dr. Martin was good at her job. She would help bridge a 6000 year old gap of pain and misery to create a new era of peace. Not that she knew that, of course. She was just a therapist to a weird group of siblings. 

Humans, She thought in amusement, were clearly Her best creations yet.

[supernaturalee]

Green and Gold: Part 2 - Gwilym Lee x Reader

Pairings: Widow/Single Father! Gwilym Lee x Reader

Warnings: Some swearing, Mentions of X rated thoughts, and more KAREN

Word Count: 4.4k

Previous Parts: One

Summary: When Gwilym lost his wife two years ago he feared raising his daughter alone in a small coastal New Jersey town would be difficult. In the two years since her death, Gwil and Brianne are finally ready to start moving on. Following the words of a child psychologist, Gwil signs Bri up for cheerleading with the local youth squad, something Gwil knows nothing about. As he is thrust in the world of cheer bows and back handsprings, he will learn it takes a lot more than green and gold uniforms to mend his and his daughter’s hearts. Hopefully through the squad they will find strength, friendship, and possibly a spark of new love for the widow himself.  

Taglist:@the-baby-bookworm​ @ixchel-9275​ @slutforbritdick​ @kurt-nightcrawler​ @radio-hoo-ha​ @imgonnabeyourslave​ @queendeakyy​ @girllety​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @what-wicked-delights​ @drivenbybri​

Author’s Note: It’s almost 2 am EST and I thought to myself, why not post part two. We are getting into meat of the story here, y’all! Again, this update is late, but my writing was hard to come by for a while. So without further ado, he is part 2 of Green & Gold. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments. 

In the four short weeks since Brianne had started cheerleading practice, Gwilym had come to learn three absolute truths. First being that cheer made Bri happier than Gwil had ever hoped. In the time since that first practice, he had seen her smile more than he had seen since before Angela had passed away. Her eyes lit up now whenever she spoke about how the routine was coming along or how she was learning all of these different things. Such as stunts or new tumbling passages or jumps that had odd names like toe touches, herkies, and pikes. While Gwilym cooked dinner or checked over her homework, he could always hear her routine music coming from the stereo in the living room. Once he got her to wash her hands and then settled at the table. It would become Gwilym’s inquiry into the world of cheerleading and Brianne was more than happy to oblige his many questions. 

Bri had taken to cheering like a fish takes to water. It was in her blood, Angela’s cheerleading history flowing through Brianne’s veins now. It made Gwil so happy. She spent three nights a week on the mat now and Saturday during the day at either the home field or away fields cheering on the young football players. The football team’s age coincided with the cheerleaders of Bri's team’s ages. Or the Mustang Pee Wees as Gwil had learned. He had finally found out the difference between the game cheers and the competition cheer as Bri had once told him. He usually sat in the game bleachers trying to decipher how American football was more popular than actual football. Or as Y/N lovingly reminded him every time he complained, “It’s soccer here.” she would say with a smile. At first he thought it was kind of annoying but now anytime she reminded him, he found it endearing. The way her lips curled up in a smile as she said it, he found himself mesmerized by it. 

When Brianne wasn’t cheering and once her homework was done, she could be found hanging out with her new friends Jasmine, Joey, and Selma. The carpool Y/N had promised had been fruitful for Brianne and Gwilym on the friendship front. They had been the type of cheer parents Gwilym had hoped for and luckily he got in with them instead of the others. That was the second absolute truth he learned that, cheer parents were absolutely bonkers bananas insane. Karen Diguimi was just the tip of the massive iceberg that was the “Stepford Stangs” as Joe lovingly coined them. Gwil had now become a member of the mailing list. A dreaded place to be that he wouldn’t have agreed to had he known what a nightmare it truly was. 

He had now started to receive daily emails with updates on fundraising and how close they were to the nice buses. Game schedules, rule changes, and low fat recipes to keep your little cheerleader in proper cheering shape were among the other important articles. Plus little snide comments on the surrounding towns’ teams and how far superior the Mustangs were to them. It was like a tabloid magazine that Gwil now had a daily subscription too.

 Y/N had sent him a long paragraph text about the low carb recipes and how dare the “Stepford Stangs” imply that only certain shaped children could be cheerleaders. ‘It is the middle of October and they are nine and ten years old. WHY DO THEY HAVE TO BE SWIMSUIT READY?! Gwil, you will have to stop me from strangling Karen at the next practice.’ It made Gwilym feel a swell of pride for a moment that he read her text. It caused the return of a certain set of emotions. These feelings that he was feeling were something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Often he would check over the email for that week’s game schedule then file the email away. His new gang of misfit parents would mock the over ridiculous links in the emails or the fact that they received a new one every day. Joe always sent a meme or two about them, while Rami commented on the complete lack of email etiquette. ‘It’s too many emails and too many people hit Reply All instead of reply. It is chaotic!’ Rami had sent in their group chat. ‘I think its nice to keep us informed with the same information that we knew yesterday.’ Lucy had added. Gwil finally being able to put a face to the name as he met Rami’s other half at the first football game of the year. She was blonde, slim, and in a way almost fairy like. Her movements were graceful but she had this hidden strength to her. Rami and Lucy complimented each other well. Rami was a computer engineer, who like Gwil, could do most of his work from home. Lucy, on the other hand, was a certified midwife and a nurse at the local OBGYN. Often traveling between the hospital and the doctor office. Their schedules mostly allow for their twin girls’ busy sports schedules to work. Joe ran an accounting firm but swore he was bad at math. He stated he liked the business but preferred leaving the accounting to his dedicated small team of accountants.

Finally, the third absolute truth that Gwilym Lee knew was that Wednesday nights were now his favorite night of the week. It was the only night parents were allowed to stay for the whole practice. This meant about two hours of watching Bri have the most fun and grow into an even stronger, more beautiful young woman. It also meant getting to spend time with his new friends including Y/N.  Y/N had quickly become Gwil’s confidant in all things cheer related. Any question or need he had, she had the answer and was always there with a smile. It was just another reason why Gwil was now harboring a crush on this woman. He and Bri had not seen her coming. He thought he would scrap by with googled information and keep his head down. He would be quiet and lonely,  knowing just enough to get by. 

Yet there was Y/N with her intelligence, her helping hand, and her kind heart. Bri also loved her and Jasmine. She was treated with so much love, respect, and care by Y/N. Gwil found it hard to keep himself from melting every time he was in her gaze. He felt like a teenage boy with a crush. He had confided in Ben who told him to get back on the horse. However, to Gwil, the horse was a twenty foot tall bear that was very hungry. Angela was still on his mind, in his life, in his heart. He saw her every day in the brown eyes of his daughter. He feared that any new relationship he would start would be doomed to be branded as the rebound relationship for the man with the dead wife. Even if he found someone, they had to pass the most important test in his book, being well loved by the most important person in his life, Brianne. He shook away the heavy thoughts as the red light turned green. He pressed his foot on the gas as he continued the drive to practice. Bri and Jasmine chatting in the back of his car. 

Y/N had asked him to pick Jasmine up from school and drive her to practice. Y/N had a meeting with the college board about one of her students. She would meet them at the cheer gym later. Gwil’s mind couldn’t help but wander to Y/N. He hoped her meeting went well. He knew in just the short few weeks of knowing her that her job meant a tremendous amount to her. Professor Y/L/N had a very nice ring to it. His mind wandering further to dirtier thoughts. If they were ever to be together would she let him play the teacher's pet. His fantasy slowly took form in his head when Bri’s voice snapped him back to reality. 

“Dad?” No answer came from the driver’s seat. “Earth to dad. Father?” She laughed. Gwil pushed all X rated thoughts from his mind and looked to the rear view. 

“Hmm?” He answered, putting on a small smile to show her that he has really been paying attention the whole time. 

“Could Jasmine and Ms. Y/L/N come to dinner with us?” Bri asked sweetly. The two had joined them for dinner every Wednesday night since that first practice. 

“Please Mr. Lee!” Jasmine used the same sweet voice. Gwil rubbed his jaw with his free hand as the two girls started repeating the world please. 

“Please please please please please please please please please please please please please!” Bri and Jasmine begged together. Gwilym laughed, smiling. 

“It is fine with me but we will have to ask your aunt, Jasmine, when we see her.” He said.  Both girls cheered happily as they looked at each other. 

“Of course Mr. Lee!” Jasmine smiled. “Aunt Y/N likes getting dinner with you and Bri.” Jasmine said. Gwil felt his cheeks heat up for a moment. This came as a surprise to him in a way. Sure he knew she cared about their friendship but maybe this meant she also felt something more for him. He quickly pushed this thought away, no it wasn’t a good time for him to get into a new relationship. I’m not ready. His thoughts continued his mantra. 

“Well we like having dinner with both of you as well, dear.” He answered her. Jasmine’s smile grew. She was a wonderful little girl who Gwilym had grown to care for. She didn’t know what she was doing for Brianne, but Gwil did and how it helped her improve immensely. He had known his daughter had tried to hide her sadness from him. It was something she tried to do to prove she was strong like Angela but she didn’t need to. Gwil and her grandparents knew that Brianne had every ounce of Angela’s strength tenfold. 

As he pulled into the parking lot of the cheer gym he saw Y/N’s Jeep had not yet arrived. He also didn’t see Joe’s or Rami’s cars either which meant he would be alone. He would most likely have to face yet another conversation with Karen. Or he could just hide out in his car until his friends arrived. He shook his head for a moment, he had to go inside, he could handle this. As both young girls made their way inside, Gwil followed behind them making sure both safely got in the building. 

He signed both in at the desk where the young man who Gwil had learned was one of the coaches’ sons sat. He gave the teenaged boy a wave before moving to his usual spot in the bleachers. He had settled into the groove of sitting with everyone, Gwil sat on a lower bench due to his height, while Y/N sat on the bleacher bench above him so she could make eye contact easier. Rami would sit above her and then Joe would sit beside her, the four almost making a little diamond of security. His blue eyes looked around the room before he spotted her. 

Karen was talking to some of the other team parents, her eyes scanning the room for him. He dropped his head down trying to hide himself from her.

“Oh Gwilym!” She exclaimed, moving to him. Gwil sat up straight, damn he had been caught. He politely smiled and nodded. Please don’t come over, please don’t come over, please don’t come over… He repeated in his head, it was too little too late. She made her way over to his place of peace and quiet. 

“Hello Mrs. Digumi.” He said politely. Her smile grew. Damn, his British charm. She stood in front of him. 

“Please call me Karen.” She smiled still. “I wanted to ask how everything was going with Brianne. She is quite the little cheerleader. One of the best on the squad. Almost as good as my little McKenna.” 

“Thank you. I will tell her that later. She certainly seems to be enjoying it and that makes me happy.” He said honestly, maybe he was wrong about Karen. 

“You should have her over for a play date with my McKenna. You and I can exchange parenting tips or tips of some other kind.” She batted her heavily mascaraed eyes at him. He gulped softly. 

“I will have to talk to Bri about it and get back to you Mrs. Dig-Karen.” He corrected himself. 

“I am just saying Brianne seems like a very sweet girl and you don’t want her to get in with the wrong crowd before middle school. Popularity is key and my little McKenna is going to be one of the most popular girls in school. Just like I was. If Brianne settles herself with the likes of those children, her social life is over and I don’t want that for her or for you. Popularity is everything.” She said as she sat next to him. No, he wasn’t wrong about Karen.

Wrong crowd? What the hell, they are children not teenagers. He thought to himself before defending the children of his friends. Popularity is everything. What a bunch of bullocks. 

“Jasmine, Joey, and Selma are good kids. They are smart, fun, courteous, kind and they are Bri’s friends. They were the first ones to welcome her with open arms,” He said. Gwil was a bit taken aback that a grown woman would say something like that about ten year olds. If Bri and Jasmine weren’t on the mat about 50 feet away, he would have forgotten his manners and let Karen have it. 

“I don’t appreciate you talking that way about my friends’ children or about your child’s fellow teammates.”   He continued, his tone was serious and sharp. Her eyes went wide as she heard the manner in which he spoke. 

“Oh! I didn’t mean the kids! I meant, um, the parents.” She was quick to backtrack and try to fix her mistake. Her chance with the Welsh man slipping away. “Gwilly, you are new to all of this. I should have specified that I meant that if Brianne settles herself with the likes of the parents of those children, her social life is over. You both deserve so much but you are still so naive, honey.” 

“My name is Gwilym.” He stated. She had called him Gwilly, a nickname that Angela would lovingly call him after a few glasses of wine. How dare this woman even try to put herself in the same realm of love as his wife. 

“I am so sorry honey.” She smiled to try to cover up the large hole she had dug for herself. “Like I was saying to you that first practice those parents you have chosen to bond with don’t understand the mustang way.” It was clear to Gwilym that Karen intended to keep digging. “Especially Y/N, I mean she likes to pretend she was a good cheerleader because she was once a national champion herself. But she was the worst one of that team, I should know, I did date her brother.” Karen said as jealousy slipped between each word. It was clear to her that Gwilym cared more for Y/N than he would ever care for her. “They carried her to the gold medal and she got the recognition for it like everyone else. Even made her brother break up with me, how dare she. That bitch.” That was the final straw for him.  

“I am going to stop you right there, Mrs. Diguimi. I do not want to hear you ever bad mouth my friends or their children. Please understand I am friendly with you because I have to be. You are the team mom and I do not really like having issues with anyone. However, my daughter is the only reason I am here. Y/N, Joe, Lucy and Rami plus their amazing children came as an incredible bonus to all of this. You did not.” He said calmly. “Now please step away from me and know, this is the last conversation we will have that is not about fundraising or cheering information. I do not take kindly to people belittling others or their children for their own personal benefit. Thank you and have a good night.” 

Karen let out a breath of air through her nose, standing up quickly. Moving from the bleachers, staring him down. 

“Oh I understand.” Her voice dripped with sweetly sickening venom. “If you ever change your mind I am right over there with the good parents.” She moved to the other waiting ‘Stepford Stangs’. Gwil let out a long breath as a smile appeared on his lips. God, how good it felt to let her have it and god how he wished Y/N had seen him. She would be so proud once he told her. It was the sudden sound of two voices that drew him away from his fantasy. 

“I see you are on the list now.” Rami said as he and Joe joined Gwilym in the bleachers. 

“List?” He asked, tilting his head curiously. 

“I’ll let Joe explain.” Rami smiled. 

“It is Karen Diguimi’s way of saying you are cancelled until you apologize.” Joe smirked. “We just caught the tail end of what you were saying but from what we heard, it was fucking brilliant.” He said quietly enough for just the three men to hear. “Welcome to the list. I have been on it since the ‘I won’t let my underage child wash stranger’s cars in the shortest shorts debacle of last summer season.” Joe said. 

“Rami, how did you end up on the list? It seems like she likes you the most out of all of us.” Gwil asked. Rami chuckled. 

“I once asked her if the pom poms for adults were necessary at a competition because it was just one extra thing to carry.” 

“That’s not too bad.”

“She also hates my wife.”

“Ah, I see.”

“So we both reside on the list with Joe and Y/N.”

“What did Y/N do to get on the list?”

“What hasn’t she done to get on the list?” Joe laughed. “First it was being Dominic Y/L/N’s little sister during high school. Then it was becoming Jasmine’s key guardian when he died, then it was a few other arbitrary things I don’t remember, but most recently, it was getting you to be our friend instead of hers.” Joe said. 

“It’s a rite of passage to get on the list.” Rami said. All three men laughed as Gwil felt more at peace than ever before. Even though Karen had basically verbally bashed children in front of him and badmouthed Y/N, she did provide one key piece of vital information. Y/N as a former national champion for the Mustangs, maybe even on the same squad as his late wife. He marked it in his brain to ask her later. 

As practice started and the three men continued their conversation, still no Y/N. Part of Gwilym began to worry that something bad had happened. He checked his phone to see if she had called or texted but nothing. He tried to push the worry to the back of his mind as Joe began to talk about the upcoming competition this weekend. It was the same thing Bri had not stopped talking about for the past week. Even as he got her and Jasmine into the car today, they talked about their nervous excitement for it. 

Joe was going to ride up with Rami and Lucy. Figuring Gwil would want to carpool with Y/N. Actually all three of them, Joe, Rami, and Lucy, hoped something would blossom between the two. 

“Oh I hadn’t even thought to ask her. It is probably too late, I will just drive up myself.” He said he was a bit disappointed he hadn’t asked. 

“She’ll say yes if you do ask.” Rami smled. 

“She might not.” Gwil continued. 

“Oh no, she will definitely say yes.” Joe smiled slyly. Both men looked at each like they both held the same secret that Gwil wasn’t privy to. It was at that moment Y/N moved into the gym still in her work clothes. Her blazer that was once covering the purple silk blouse, was replaced by a jean jacket. She wore black slacks and black vans. 

“I don’t drive in heels, I don’t want to be responsible for that many lives.” She had told him their first Wednesday night dinner out with the girls. He knew that she kept a pair of black lace up vans in her Jeep for the drive home from the university. 

“Speak of the Devil and she shall appear.” Joe teased her as she sat in her usual spot. She laughed and Gwil’s heart skyrocketed into flight. 

“Ha ha. Good to see you, Mozzarella.” She snarked. 

“That’s Mr. Mozzarella to you.” Joe answered. Both tossing their heads back gently and laughed. There went Gwil’s pulse racing for a moment. 

“Did I miss anything?” 

“Gwil’s on the list.” 

“No!”

“Oh hell yeah!”

“How? Tell me! I have to know how Karen’s little lust for you somehow got you on the list.”

“Karen’s little what?” Gwil said. 

“Dude, she wanted to bone you.” Joe said. “Hard.”

“Bone?” He asked.

“Sleep with you, knock boots, cherry pick, dude I know too analogies for sex.”

“She’s married!” Gwil exclaimed quietly to the group. 

“Hasn’t stopped her before.” Y/N said. “Anyway, tell me how you got on the list.” 

Gwilym began to tell the story of her confrontation with Karen. His own smile grew as he watched Y/N’s own smile grow as he got to the words match. 

“Mr. Lee you are bloody brilliant.” She said, her hand rubbed his arm for a moment before she withdrew it. Gwil blushed. 

“It was nothing.”

“This is cause for celebration. You being on the list. We will all go out kid free and celebrate soon.” Joe said. 

“Sounds good to me.” Rami agreed. Y/N nodded, her eyes looking up and waving to Jasmine as the girl waved back. 

“Hey Y/N, did you know Gwilym here was going to drive to Trenton all alone?” Joe stated. Gwil’s eyes went wide as he looked at the man over Y/N’s shoulder. He felt his cheeks heat up.

“Really?” She asked.

“Yeah. He was going to drive by himself.”

“Why don’t you ride with me? It isn’t as long as a drive if you have a partner.” She offered him. Her Y/E/C eyes meeting his blue. A small smile on her lips.

“Um, you won’t mind?” He asked shyly. 

“No, it will be a treat to spend time with you alone.” She said honestly, all the room felt almost like it was silent around them. Joe and Rami watching the two just share prolonged eye contact. Gwil could almost swear there was a light pink tinge on her cheeks as well. 

“Then it's all set. I’d love to ride with you.” He smiled. The tinge got a bit darker. 

Joe poked his head between the two, “Is your, um, neighbor coming?” He asked her. His voice was almost giddy, like Gwil’s when he talked about Y/N on the phone to Ben. Who was this woman  that was making Joe act like the same lovestruck teenager he was?

“Oh no. Unfortunately, Jolene had one of her advanced painting classes rescheduled to Saturday. It is too much money to miss out on but she promised Jasmine she was coming to Regionals.” Y/N said as she raked her hair up into a messy ponytail. 

“Oh.” Joe’s smile faded quickly. 

“You know you could just ask her out. She likes you too.” Y/N patted her friend’s shoulder. Joe shook his head. 

“The divorce is still too fresh to Joey. It wouldn’t be fair to him for me to get involved with someone new so soon after his mother and I split up.” Joe admitted. Gwilym understood that point. A divorce was a similar loss to a child as a parent passing. Everything became different over night for them, changing so suddenly. Joe and his ex were friendly enough to a point for the sake of their son. The one thing that will keep them forever linked. 

“Okay honey. One day though, Joey is just going to want his dad to be happy.” She said with a soft smile to their friend. Joe just nodded looking over at his son. 

How Karen could ever call this wonderful woman a bitch was past Gwilym’s arena of thought. He looked at Y/N and smiled. God how beautiful she is even in the lighting of this gym. He thought to himself. As more time passed for the practice, the three experienced cheer parents told Gwilym everything he would need to know to be ready for Saturday. How he would have to have Brianne ready before 6 am to get her to the gym so that the team could take a bus together to the arena before driving there with Y/N. He would have to make sure he paced enough bobby pins, snacks, water, everything. His worry level that he would mess this all up grew. Especially the idea that he would have to do her hair in a high slick back ponytail. Brianne had hair like her mom’s thick and wavy, he could barely get it into braids without at least three Youtube tutorials. 

“How about this? I bring Jasmine over at like 5. I can do both of their hair and you can make sure they have enough snacks?” Y/N offered, once again being the incredible person that she was. 

“Please. I fear what I would do to my poor girl’s head.” He said honestly. 

“I think you would be fine, but the first competition is the scariest for both the parent and the cheerleader.” 

“It will put not only my mind at rest but Bri’s mind too. Thank you Y/N.” 

“Anything for you, Gwil.” She smiled. “Oh and um, thanks for standing up for the kids earlier with Karen. She can talk all the crap she wants about me but Jasmine doesn’t deserve that. It means a lot to me and it shows me how wonderful of a human being you are.” She said before turning her attention back to the mat. His heart raced again. God, Wednesday nights really were his favorite. 

[trying-write-fanfics]

Shouji Mezo X Reader part 4, Remember

 A couple days went by and the students adjusted to her presence. Most of them liked her and her weird nicknames. Though she remembered Sero’s name he even asked her for one, it was scotch like the tape to scotch on the rocks like the drink. Y/n was trying her best to adjust, her cool calm mask was secure, but under it, there was just so much pressure. She called Kamanri electric eel, Ojiro to orange juice, Sparkles was Aoyama, and there were more. Pressure to not be her, pressure to be around too many people daily, it was all crushing. Pretending to not be herself while still being herself.

 Aizawa told Y/n she’d get better with it as time goes on. The students didn’t seem too weirded out by her, yeah she was eccentric with things she would say, but it wasn’t bad. To learn more about her quirk, Aizawa tried getting her to do the exams he gave to the students on the first day. It was after hours at the school. 

“Just throw the ball as far as you can. Didn’t you do this in middle school?” He asked her. 

“No! I opted out of gym class.” Y/n snapped

She held the ball and looked down at it. He was tricking her into using her quirk, she figured that much. She was instructed not to use it, but she broke that rule so many times. Giving Aizawa a sly smile, she gave a petty toss. 

“Again.”

“Fine!”

 Giving a quick critical thought she pulled the ball back. Activating her quirk she threw the ball forward. As the ball released from her hand, ready to zoom and launch far far away, the happy baseball pitcher sight changed drastically. Y/n’s eyes widen releasing the quick consequence. Her arm squirt out with blood, and not a little bit. Y/n fell, clutching her wounded arm. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit.” Y/n fell to the ground cursing the pain.

 The ball binged saying it went far. Aizawa didn’t read it though, he was by the girl’s side. She was breathing heavy. He didn’t learn as much watching her use her quirk. She knew she would get hurt using her quirk, or that’s what he was told. He assumed her mother didn’t want her using her quirk because it was a hidden secret. But she really did get hurt. Y/n had to of known she would have been hurt. Why did she do it? Because she didn’t expect that to happen. She’s had this quirk long enough to know. 

“I’ll get you to recovery girl.”

“Don’t bother, I can handle this.”

“I don’t think that’s wise.”

“What do you even know. Just get me to my room.” Y/n growled.

He did wrap her arm up in bandages. He thought she denied the aid because it could hurt recovery girl but she let him help her so that wasn’t it. 

“Are you like Midoriya? If you can’t control your quirk it hurts you?”

“Beefcake’s quirk hurts him?” 

“He breaks his fingers.”

“Why do you let him use it then!”

“I don’t have that power. Besides most students have a backlash with quirks. When I use mine I get dry eyes.”

“I guess I didn’t think of that.”

“Don’t you have siblings and parents with quirks? What are their limits?” Aizawa asked.

“I wouldn’t know. It’s been awhile since all six of us have been together.”

“You don’t even know what your parents quirks are?”

“I mean I sorta do, they never wanted to be heroes so they don’t really use them ever. But my dad isn’t really my dad.”

“Oh, are you from a previous relationship?”

“No, my parents wanted to make a kid with a strong quirk, so my mother went to a sperm bank. I think my oldest two siblings are my dad’s blood kids.”

 Though it was weird, weirder than Enji Todoroki methods of creating the ultimate child, it wasn’t the most surprising thing that Aizawa heard. Y/n came from money, meaning if the family wanted some fame they wanted a kid to become a hero. Looking into the file more, her parents were worse looking into it. Sure it seemed the hero dream meant for Y/n wasn’t forced as much as it was expected to be, they were bad people. Her father helped bend laws to help her mother go further with experimenting on quirks, on people. Her mother tried launching an enhancing quirk business. Quality management knew how she obtained the knowledge for it wasn’t done ethically. Thinking they could combat the scientist from going too far, they wanted her to use one of her own children to see if it works safely before it gets advertised to the public. Months later she withdrew the business proposal . The child’s results weren’t documented or they were destroyed. The change for their daughters' life was gradual. The elementary school quirk exams didn’t get clear results before, but her pinky toe did show she had one. She was opted out of gym classes for health reasons. Middle school she was sent home often for falling asleep in class or getting sick. 2 months of private high school was switched to online. She had good grades, but this all had to be a plan. Isolated from the outside world and family. She stayed at the main house while her siblings were moved out, always gone, or traveling. Her father wasn’t home much, he traveled around the country for politics and even left the country for a short time. He was trying to change the licenses for quirks making them less regulated. With her parents gone she went to crime. The motive wasn’t the clearest, but teenage rebellion, just to feel something, to form a bond, it all seemed it was enough. 

The next morning when Y/n got to class. Aizawa didn’t expect her to come in, her arm didn’t have bandages. Instead it seemed she had a rash on her neck. She tried hiding it with another turtleneck but it’s partially sticking out. 

“One minute.” Aizawa told the class not letting the girl enter, he joined her in the hall. 

“What happened!” Aizawa asked.

“I healed my arm.”

“What happened to your face?”

“It’s from the healing.”

A healing strength quirk? Was it duo quirk? Was she even strong. What was her own healing? Was that what happened?

“Straightened out your quirk story right now.”

“I guess it’s kinda like a ponytail's quirk.” She groaned. 

 Y/n was exhausted. Sure she healed her arm but she was still tired from the pain. 

 “Yaoyorozu’s?”

“Yeah I can use a quirk I understand. When I’m in a lot pain I can understand healing. I can’t copy every quirk though like frog girl’s or else I would have to change my whole body which would probably destroy me before I got towards any completion.”

“So why does your body react the way it does?”

“I haven’t figured out a pattern. I can copy a weaker quirk and my body can still react violently and I can do something powerful and be fine sometimes.” Y/n explained.

“I can see why you avoid using your quirk. Are you sure you’re well enough to come in today?”

“Yeah, you guys took my phone. I'm bored as hell.” She told him.

Not the best reason but he let her in.

“What happened to your chin?” Pinky asked. 

“Are you okay, Velia?” Iida asked.

“I got into a fight and won!” She winked. 

 Again a weird thing to say for teaching aid. 

“Sort these papers.” Aizawa told Y/n. 

 “Who did you fight-“ red rock asked. 

“That doesn’t matter, back to work.” Aizawa said. 

Aizawa handed out a test to the students. Must have sucked to take a test on a piece of paper. All her online tests she managed to find good ways to cheat. Yeah they had a camera on her computer when she took tests, but keeping her notes in her lap so everytime she looked down it just looked like she was looking at the keyboard. It was a good trick when she was squeezed for time. Shouji caught her eye again. He uses an eye on one of his arms. 

“Aizawa please come down to the main office.”

“Can you watch the class, Velia?”

“Yeah.”

Midoriya watched Y/n sharply. Her face was the uncaring, bored look she had when sorting the papers. He was trying to figure her out. This was the distant face she kept, was she hiding something? She was like 2 different people. Most of the tests were turned in. 

 Y/n’s eyes then reached Midoriya’s. It wasn’t the bored look, but maybe the eyes of a predator. To Y/n and what she’s heard from the class and teacher, she assumes he was targeted by her mother. What terrible parents he must have, born quirkless and then went to her mother to pump a quirk in him. That’s what must have happened. 

“Beefcake, is it true you break your fingers every time you use your quirk?” She didn’t say it like the friend she was in the cafeteria. She said it like an investigator about to crack a case.

“Huh-“

“Why do you care about Deku?” Bakugo asked loudly. 

“Why so angry?” She asked, getting up and walking towards his desk. “You can’t handle someone else getting a question?”

“Just who the hell do you think you are lady? You’re just some pencil pusher.”

“Butt-u-go, was it?” She asked. “It’s your quirk that brings you pride, makes you special.”

“What-“ he growled but was cut off short when she put her hand in front of his face and gave him a small taste of his own power, a small explosion to the face. “What the hell did you just do?”

Bakugo got up and launched himself at the girl. Ducking under his arm she got behind him and kicked his butt to have him fall on the floor. The whole class was surprised. Though they wouldn’t call her one, she did seem like a pencil pusher, then here she was kicking the number one at the sports festival. 

“Consider that a small lesson, don’t launch a 100% of yourself in the first blow.”

“I didn’t ask for a lesson from you.”

“You wanna be a hero right? Try learning from everything you do.”

She was trying to be fake wise. 

“Is your quirk a copy quirk?” Uraraka asked

“Are you related to Bakugou?” Froggy asked.

Y/n looked at Yaoyorozu for a split second. She was also someone she actually knew. She was ready to compare the quirks, but didn’t. 

“It’s kinda a copy quirk, with many limitations.” Y/n explained. 

[marvel-lucy]

The Ultimate Weapon, chapter 8

Be warned, I gave the character a name in this chapter. I didn’t know that wasn’t allowed, it was my first fic! Someone told me I’d ruined it for them. Jokes on them, the bad writing was doing that anyway!

I think I stopped breathing when I heard that. ‘We think we know who you are’. I felt my heart start to race, and sweat stood out on my forehead. Last time Bruce had asked me my name, I’d blacked out. My identity had been playing on my mind for weeks now – I could remember most of my time with Hydra but there was a dark hole before that and I was terrified to look into it.

“You ok? Is there anything you need?” Sam’s voice broke through the whirlwind in my head, and I looked up. He was sitting on the bed opposite my chair, Bucky standing, arms folded, next to him. Both were looking at me, waiting. I sat up straighter and took a steadying breath, tried to calm my mind. It didn’t matter who I was, I was a weapon, weapons were without emotion… but I wasn’t convinced. I wanted to ask them not to tell me, because there could be no good story behind losing my identity, my past, but if Sam and Bucky knew, then the team would know, and I couldn’t live with them knowing while I didn’t.

“OK. Yes, I’m OK.” I breathed deeply again. “Start from the beginning”.

Sam spoke again. He was the one chosen as the most compassionate, they must have thought he’d be able to gauge the best way to tell me.

“Tony’s had Jarvis searching databases: missing person’s reports, medical records, school photos, anything and everything they could find” He paused. “They found a possibility, a coupla days ago, and have been looking into it, trying to verify things. Looks like Hydra covered their tracks pretty well, and… well… there wasn’t anyone left to try and find you once they’d finished”. That made me look up sharply. So there was no family out there waiting to welcome me home with open arms. That should have made me sad but in fact it was a relief. I couldn’t become part of a family, decorate Christmas trees and carve pumpkins, I didn’t have that in me. I had a feeling that sadness would come though, in time.

Sam continued. “Jarvis found a missing person’s report, from Colorado. Six years ago. A girl was taken, when she was 14. She’d been identified by SHIELD as a person of interest because she had certain abilities. The Hydra faction inside SHIELD obviously picked up on this and she was taken. Hydra deleted most of the SHIELD references to the girl, we guess so nobody else went looking, but Jarvis found references in the local news, just a few. Nat’s been out to the town and looked through the police files – all the computer files were deleted but she found paper records, and school records and photos. Hydra were careless, they left too much behind, they obviously thought no one would ever go looking. I’m sorry, but there’s no relatives there, but we did find some medical records that were in storage – again, they wiped out the computer data but obviously didn’t clear everything. We’ve been able to match DNA from a relative’s record. We’ve pulled everything together that we’ve found. Do you want to look through it on your own?”

They both watched me. I could practically feel my brain trying to process all this. Colorado? It meant nothing to me. I felt as if each sentence was slowly filtering through my consciousness. “Wait, six years? Are you saying this girl… I… have been with Hydra for six years?”

Bucky spoke. “It fits what we’ve been able to find out about the Hydra facility. They took a few kids like you when they could, kids SHIELD had picked up on. That gave them plenty of time to do what they needed to do”.

Six years. Six years lost to becoming the ultimate weapon. Family gone, history wiped out, everything. “What’s my name?”

“Do you want us to tell you, or do you want to read about it first? Just… don’t be disappointed if hearing your name doesn’t bring it all back. It’ll take time, don’t put yourself under pressure to take it all in at once, ok?” Sam looked concerned, maybe they were afraid I’d break down or black out or something. Maybe I was afraid too. I didn’t know what to expect – everything to come back, nothing to come back. What if it triggered some kind of killing rage?

“You should probably go. I’ll read it on my own. Thank you, all of you, for finding… for looking”. They both started walking towards the door, I knew they’d give me all the time I needed. “Wait”. They both paused, Sam’s hand on the doorknob, and looked at me. “Just… say my name will you? I want to hear it spoken, not see it written down, first time”.

Bucky spoke. “Ruby. Your name is Ruby.” They shut the door behind them.

---

I stood there for a few minutes, rolling that name around in my head. When Bucky had said ‘Ruby’, there’d been no bright lights or fireworks going off. I was aware I was holding my breath and let it out slowly, then walked into the bathroom, pulled down the towel covering the mirror, and looked at my face for the second time that afternoon. Chopped hair, bruises, broken teeth. I said ‘Ruby’ out loud, my voice betraying me by cracking slightly. Nothing. Anyone who’d known me then wouldn’t know this broken weapon as Ruby now. Maybe I’d have been better off not knowing, but now that I did…

I turned, and walked back into the bedroom, sat in the chair and pulled up the screen that Tony had shown me how to use. “Jarvis, can you please pull up everything you’ve found related to Ruby’s… my background? And Jarvis, thank you for finding me”.

‘A pleasure to help, Miss Ruby’. That made me jump. Bucky had said my name, but Jarvis had called me it. This would take some getting used to.

‘I have taken the liberty of creating an outline of your past’. The document appeared on the screen. ‘You’ll see links to all the evidence alongside the document. Please do ask for any clarification’.

I was lost in the files for hours, unmoving except for my fingers sliding across the screen, reading school reports, dentist’s records, newspaper clippings, the ephemera of a life that Hydra hadn’t managed to erase. Jarvis had ordered everything and I went through systematically, reading every document more than once, cross-checking facts, but all the time ignoring the box on the screen marked ‘images’. So here it was, the story of a life – my life, so it seemed, although so far beyond the occasional tickle at the back of my mind, a vague sense of familiarity, this could as easily be about someone I’d never met.

So I was 20. I felt older, but was also only aware of six years of life. I’d been born and brought up in a small town in Colorado. Unremarkable childhood. An older brother, two parents. I read their names but nothing clicked. Dates and school names followed, details of minor operations – tonsils, a broken arm falling from a jungle gym. So far, so normal. Then age 10, it seemed there were notes from SHIELD, reconstructed by Jarvis. ‘Unusual’ activity had prompted SHIELD to investigate and found that I had mental abilities that were starting to develop. A teenager bullying my brother had been checked into hospital after breaking his own nose headbutting a wall, and mumbling about how the ‘kid’ had weird eyes that had looked at him. A schoolfriend, unable to swim, told her parents that when she fell out of a boat on a school trip, I’d stopped her sinking. A fire in our kitchen started with a faulty toaster oven was suddenly extinguished when I broke free of my Dad’s arms and ran back into the house. So far, so weird, but there were rational explanations given for each one by the people involved. Concussion from a fall leading to the bully imagining things; a child’s active imagination brought on by fear; a sudden gust of wind blowing out the fire. SHIELD knew better. I was on a watch list now, with suspected telekinesis and other unknown powers.

And that list was what had got me here. A Hydra agent inside SHIELD flagged this up and at the age of 14, they pounced. I’d been walking home from school at the end of term and vanished. Jarvis had noted that I was probably tranquilised to prevent me using any mind forces, but most records had been deleted. My parents must, surely, have filed missing person reports; made pleas on the local news for my safe return. Maybe my school friends held a candlelit vigil and secretly revelled in the excitement of all the fuss, unable to quite comprehend the reality. There were few notes to back this up, Hydra had done their job well, but Nat had spoken to some old school friends who reported a range of stories. ‘Hadn’t I been found but the family had moved away?’ ‘I heard she died and so the family left?’ ‘No, she never came back, didn’t her parents die too?’ It seemed Hydra misinformation had confused the facts. There were no records of any family left, anywhere that could be found. The Missing Person report had been concluded and deleted. Police officers ‘remembered’ hearing that I’d been found with relatives in another state, although they couldn’t remember who’d confirmed it. Turns out it’s easier to lose someone than you’d think. There were no references to my family after that though, it seemed that they'd disappeared. I didn't think there could be a good story behind that.

I straightened my back and heard it click. I’d been sitting in the same position for hours now and needed to move before I carried on. I went back into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, then paced the room, thinking. So far nothing had stirred, but I couldn’t avoid the pictures any longer, although I was afraid of what they’d reveal.

I sat down and picked up the screen again. My finger hovered over the ‘images’ icon, then angry at my own hesitation, I clicked. Yearbook photos, newspaper photos, x-rays, neighbourhood photos from yard sales and street parties. Driver’s licences for my parents. A passport photo for my brother. Jarvis had collated everything he could find. I blinked once, and clicked on the first image.

Action