#the ideal thing would to be to have paper copies of things to slam on the floor and rearrange | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eryiss · 1 year ago

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Summary: Laxus had quickly written off his college roommate. He didn’t party, didn’t go out, and didn’t do anything but study. All it would take was an unfair professor, a lot of door slamming, and the perfect prank to show Laxus how wrong he could be about a man who slept only six feet away.

Notes: Hey all. Welcome to Fraxus week. Head over to @fuckyeahfraxus to see all the posts. There’s no real theme between my fics this year, but there’s a tone of rebellion. Hope you enjoy.

Links: Ao3, Event Masterlist

Six Feet Away

December - 1987

Laxus' tapping of his pen was interrupted when the door was yanked open and slammed shut. He raised an eyebrow, kicked his chair back away from his desk and swivelled around to see the source of the noise. There was only one person it could have been, but the idea of him slamming any door was so ridiculous that…

No. It was him. Freed Justine – preppy, up tight, rule following Freed Justine – had just slammed a door.

He and Laxus looked at each other for a moment. Despite sharing a dorm room for just over three months, they hadn't exactly become friends. Or had a conversation longer than one minute, honestly. They were different people; Laxus was on an athletic scholarship and was working his way onto being the next star quarterback, while attending every party that he could. Freed, on the other hand, was a math student, or something like that; Laxus was pretty sure about that. He'd never asked what Freed was studying, but a guy like that wasn't going to be taking any of the good classes, was he? It was either math or science.

Either way, they weren't close. But there were a few things he knew about Freed he'd gathered through osmosis, and one of them was that he didn't ruffle feathers. At all. For Laxus, it had been a pretty good quality; an unobtrusive roommate was ideal. So to have him slam the door loud enough for the entire building to hear, was not expected.

"You okay-"

"Five professors," Freed snapped, voice holding more emotion than it ever had before. "Five individual professors looked at it and gave it the same grade. There was no conferring, no knowledge of what I was doing, and they all agreed."

Watching as Freed paced around their small room, Laxus spoke with hesitance. "Agreed on what?"

Freed approached Laxus' desk, slammed a small stack of paper on it, then went back to pacing. The papers, Laxus saw after picking them up, were five copies of the same essay. It was an analysis of a Hitchcock film – Freed was a film student? – and at the end of them all lay a good grade and a small summary of thoughts. The grading on each essay was written in different handwriting but seemed to broadly agree on the quality of the work. Laxus looked back to Freed, who was clearly expecting him to join in his outrage.

"I'm gonna need a little context."

"That bastard," Freed spat, gesturing towards the main building of their college. "Every professor in the film department read my work and agreed it was almost perfect. Every one of them concurred. Except for my actual professor, who failed me."

Another, smaller stack of paper was thrown onto his desk. It was the same essay, though obviously handwritten rather than being a product of the xerox machine, and with a very different grade written on the top. Practically every other sentence had feedback scribbled onto it, and none of it was positive. Laxus actually hissed out a breath after reading some of it, and thanked his past self for choosing courses that were entirely fact based rather than up for interpretation. Pre-Med and statistics were boring as hell, but at least he didn't deal with feedback like this.

On the last page, a thought struck him, and he wheeled his chair back so he could get into his desk drawer. It took him a moment to rifle through the files before he found his welcoming packet. Included in it were letters from the board of directors, giving the usual crap about how college is an amazing time, but they need to focus on studying. He pulled out one letter, compared the handwriting, and had his suspicions confirmed.

"You got Jose Porla, huh?"

"Yes," Freed stopped pacing. "Why, is he known for miss marking?"

"Not that exactly, but he plays favourites," Laxus shrugged. "He used to be on the board but got demoted after he was found giving dumbass students scholarships because he liked the families, so they pawned him off on some classes that nobody cared about," He cringed. "No offence. You didn't hear?"

"No. Why wasn't he fired?"

"Gives a lot of money, can't afford to totally piss him off," Laxus shrugged. "He doing it to your whole class, or just you?"

Freed didn't answer the question, but the tenseness of his jaw was enough to jump to an answer. "So, to conclude, my teacher has engaged in a known scandal, but has all but bribed himself into a position of tenure. To add to that, he's decided that I'll be his personal whipping boy for the year, and there's nothing I can do about it?"

Laxus clicked his tongue. "I could give you directions to the gym, so you can burn the energy off?"

Freed actually growled, turned, and stormed out the room. Laxus whistled and went back to looking at his own work.

Two Weeks Later

Laxus had taken a pretty good nap when the door clattered open and nearly slammed into straight his head. He shot upwards on instinct, his covers pooling at the waist as he looked on. Freed, after two unsettling weeks of not mentioning the incident, looked furious again. Even more furious this time if it were possible. A stack of papers was flung at Laxus as he blinked away the sleep, and he looked down and winced at what was scribbled at the top.

'Abject failure.'

"That counts to my final grade of the year," Freed snapped. "He graded it un-markable."

"That's bullshit," Laxus agreed, voice grumbling. "You should do something about it."

"Like what?" Freed huffed and collapsed into his own bed. "I've looked into lodging an official complaint against him, but the consensus of everyone I've spoken with is that it won't change anything, and if he found out about it then he'd only make things worse. There's going to the press, of course, but social pressure can only do so much so quickly, and he can more than destroy by GPA before anyone starts listening."

"Maybe try another kind of pushback."

"Like what?" Freed demanded.

Laxus thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing you'd wanna do."

"Tell me."

"You ain't gonna do it, you ain't the type," Laxus ran a hand through his hair, his tired mind missing the quick glance Freed gave his flexed bicep. "But, maybe go below the belt. He's only doing this shit because he thinks he can get away with it. Just because you can't get him fired doesn't mean you can't get him off your back. If I was on the field and some guy kept giving me trouble for no reason, and was fucking up my game, then I'd punch the bastard. I'd get a penalty, but he'd know not to keep pushing me because it wouldn't end well for him," Laxus shrugged and looked over to Freed. He was met with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Field?"

"I'm a footballer," Laxus said slowly, because surely Freed knew. "I'm the quarterback. The guy who-"

"I know football terms, I quite enjoy it actually," Freed countered, and the idea of Freed being a football fan didn't fit with Laxus' image of him at all. The thought of him screaming as part of the crowd seemed impossible. But Freed could show passion when pissed off; maybe when supporting a team, that side of him might come out too. "I just didn't know you were on the team. I assumed it would be more," his eyes glanced around the room. "Obvious."

"You thought I'd have jerseys and flags on every surface?" Laxus grinned.

"That, or the cheerleaders."

"Cheerleaders ain't my thing," Laxus said before thinking. He quickly amended himself. "Not the ones we've got, anyway."

Technically it was true, too. Some colleges had started to allow guys to join the cheer teams, and they always were hot. Freed clearly didn't notice Laxus' shot of panic and his amendment, and instead turned the topic back to Laxus. "I haven't had the time to go to any games."

"Really? You don't do anything."

It was a rude thing to say, and Laxus could see Freed's eyes snap onto him before he could take it back. "There's a reason I prioritise my studies, just as there's a reason why I can't enter into a pissing contest with my professor."

It was probably meant to be mysterious enough to not encourage any further questions. Laxus didn't work like that. "And that reason is?"

As expected, Freed hadn't anticipated any further questions, and perhaps that shock led him to answer. "There are… terms to my enrolment here." Again, Freed seemed to think that this was enough. Laxus kept looking at him until he continued. "My high school had a senior pranking tradition. It was meant to be harmless, but there was one student – Jackal – was cruel beyond excuse. I decided to get some payback on behalf of his victims. Some people thought I took things too hard, and as such my place here is only allowed if I keep my head low and my grades up."

"What did you do to him?" Laxus asked, curious.

"There's a basic chemistry experiment called Elephant's Toothpaste. It creates an expanse foam, you've probably heard of it? I sent a note to him to go to a certain storeroom which wasn't used, and set up a trap so sort," Laxus saw a grin splinter onto Freed's face. "The moment he walked in, a cord was pulled and a version of the Elephant's Toothpaste – a much larger version – exploded. It was harmless, and only made a mess of him, but he didn't take kindly to it. He also didn't like the stink bomb that I threw in after him."

Laxus snorted. That would have sucked, but it wasn't all that bad as pranks went. It also sounded slightly familiar. "Not as bad as it could have been?"

"Well, I think the aftermath is what really set things off," Freed laughed. Had Laxus ever heard him laugh before? "As I said, he was angry. People were laughing at him, which made it worse. He got to the parking lot and must have snapped, because he picked up a stone and started to smash his own car up with it. He looked deranged, actually. He then moved onto the next car, which happened to be the principals."

"Shit."

"Yes, but that's still not the worst of it," Freed smiled. "You see, he really was awful. Everyone hated him, and so I thought it fair that the entire school enjoy his embarrassment. I'm a film student, I have a video camera, so I thought I would record it and make a few copies to hand around school. What I didn't-"

"Holy shit that was you!" Laxus leapt up, grinning and gawping at Freed simultaneously. "That video was on the national news. People said our generation were influenced by satan because of it. It was you!"

"You can see how people think it got out of hand," Freed said, burying his face into his hand.

"Dude, that was badass. You got a load of old fucks pissing their pants on the news. And apparently the guy deserved to look like a dick too." He clasped Freed on the shoulder with a wide grin. "I mean, you've kinda shot yourself in the foot, but if people found out that was you, you'd be a campus legend. Pretty much anyone would defend you."

"Anyone other than the people who could expel me, I suspect," Freed sighed his words, then stood up. "You don't mind if I use the shower, do you? I think I need some time to think?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Freed walked into their shared bathroom, and Laxus watched him go. After a moment, when he heard the water hitting the shower floor, he closed his eyes and thought back to the video that had been on every news station for about a week. The student – Jackal – had looked like a total jackass. The prank was pure brilliance, Laxus had thought that even before he knew about the stink bomb. It was hard to reconcile with the realisation that Freed had been the person behind it.

Just weeks ago, Laxus had written Freed off the personification of a boring middle manager. But, there was something about Freed's eyes when he was talking about the prank. A sort of manic delight at the memory. That was why Laxus believed him; you couldn't fake something like that. He wondered what Freed was like in high school, before the threat of expulsion. Was he a punk? Laxus could kind of imagine it.

He'd look hot in a leather jacket, a stray thought suggested.

That didn't matter, for two reasons. One: Freed wasn't going to show any of his possible punk side so long as he was under Jose's thumb. Two: Laxus wasn't going to risk his position in school by going after a guy. He was an athlete, would be joining a frat next year, and needed college to work for him. Frat boys and athletes don't date men, no matter how manic their eyes looked.

Three Days Later

"I've got an idea," Laxus said as he walked into their dorm room. A large whiteboard and stand clattered behind him as he dragged it into the room and set it up in the small amount of space that was left unused. Freed looked up from his desk, face crunching.

"How quaint, an athlete using his mind," He deadpanned, obviously joking.

"Keep making those jokes and I'm gonna start playing the part of a dumbass jock bully, and then you'll regret it," Laxus grinned and looked over his shoulder. "Unless, o' course, you wanna be hanging from the flagpole by your underwear."

"I've always wondered about the mechanics of that. Surely, they'd tear, and what would you actually hook them onto? Not the rope, surely," Freed mused, and Laxus breathed out a laugh. He and Freed had been talking to each other and the more Laxus listened to him, the more he liked him. Talking with Freed was always surreal. He was a weird guy, but not bad. "Anyway, hardly the point. What do you mean you've had an idea?"

"On how you can get payback on Jose without getting in trouble," Laxus grinned, turning and writing 'Prank Ideas' on the top of the whiteboard.

"How?"

"I'll do it for you."

Freed looked at him as if he were stupid. "Then you'd get in trouble."

"Nah, I'm on a winning streak and, not to brag, but I'm bringing in a lot of fucking money for this school," Laxus ignored Freed's quiet 'Do you know what bragging is?' and turned to face him. "I could take a piss on the chancellor's desk while he sitting at it and he'd thank me. So, I'm pretty much as invulnerable as Jose is right now."

After a second of consideration, Freed shook his head. "I'd be blamed either way."

"No. Because I'm going to 'steal' your camera and record whatever we do to him, and I'm gonna make sure you can hear my voice taunting him so I'm obviously the guy behind it. He'll probably figure it out that it's you, but who would believe him. He'd have to tell everyone why he thinks it's you, and that means he'll have to confess to giving you bullshit marks. If he does that, he's really gonna lose his job." He could see Freed considering, and tried to give him the extra push. "Come on. The fucker deserves it; and I really wanna see what you can do when you're pissed off."

"You act like I'm some sort of… prank aficionado."

"And maybe you are," Laxus smirked, tapping the board with his marker. "We'll only know if you do it."

One Week Later

They both sat in wait outside the side door of the film and music department. They knew that Jose had a class ending in the next few minutes, and that he was the only person who would be using this door. The trap had been laid, the camera was waiting on Freed's tripod, and all they had to do was wait for it.

Although the plan being that Laxus would take the whole blame, Freed had insisted on being there to see the results of his work. Despite claiming he wasn't a regular prankster; Freed had come alive during their plotting sessions. That manic delight in his eyes was burning brightly, and Laxus had more than once found himself lost in them. He'd blamed that on the beer - they'd gotten pizza and beer to help the creative process – and had quickly pushed it to the back of his mind. Also in the back of his mind was the realisation of how nice Freed's laugh could be.

But now, huddled in the darkness right next to Freed, it was hard to ignore any part of him. He'd really come alive over the last few weeks, and Laxus couldn't ignore it. Freed was… mesmerising.

"That's his class," Freed whispered, nodding to a huddle of students walking out from the front of the building. "You ready?"

"Definitely," Laxus grinned conspiratorially as he flicked on the camera.

Their plotting had been successful, and they'd come up with too many good ideas to simply use one of them. After a while, they'd concocted a way of using all the highlights together, giving Jose the treatment he deserved. Any doubt about whether they were doing the right thing flew out the window when Laxus had spoken with a few of his teammates and heard their own stories of what he was like. Apparently, he made problems with any student he deemed an easy target.

The door opened, and Laxus acted instantly. He pushed down on the air horn, the sound splitting the silence. Jose jerked in fear, stumbling forward a few steps just as planned.

With a quick tug on a string, a well positioned bucket that had been on the awning above the door clattered forward. Laxus grinned as it fell directly onto Jose's head, covering it completely. He caught Freed smirking as Jose pulled the bucket off, revealing the neon pink gloop that was now covering his hair and face. Jose was spluttering and obviously furious. Laxus felt the rush already.

After a few moments of Jose flailing, Laxus raised the leaf blower and aimed. Between him and Jose were a large pile of arts and craft feathers, which flew through the air on the wind of the leaf blower. Jose raised his hands and tried in vain to stop the barrage of feathers. It didn't work; and they clung to the pink goo that covered him. Pink goo that he now realised was glue.

"Hey Professor," Laxus yelled cheerfully. "Love the new look. Suits you. Always thought you looked kinda like a chicken!"

"You!" Jose snapped, looking up through the mess. He spotted Laxus, then Freed. "You! I am going to-"

He took a step forward and cut himself off. A Slip and Slide had been set up and covered with water, which was just starting to freeze in the cold air. The Fairy Tail campus was built on a slight hill, and it sent Jose tumbling down the slide without dignity nor a chance to save himself. Freed quickly pulled the camera off the tripod to follow the journey, smirking amazingly as he did. Jose's short slide ended with him landing in a small kid's pool, filled with pond water and ice cubes. He gasped and squawked, and Laxus chuckled. Jose really was a chicken at heart.

Swaggering towards him, they both loomed over the professor. Jose looked at them with hatred, eyes aflame.

"You okay, Prof?" Laxus taunted. "These hills are dangerous for a man of your age."

"You are-"

"Ready men?" Laxus yelled before Jose could say anything that would incriminate Freed. "Aim! Fire!"

From numerous hiding places, every member of Laxus' team shot out, each holding snowballs. They began to pelt their professor with them at a rate nobody could block. They were coming from all angles, melding with the glue and feathers while obviously freezing him to the bone. It could have only lasted a minute, but it seemed to go on forever, and once again Laxus found himself entranced by Freed's expression, even if it was half hidden by his camera.

As the deluge of snowballs ended, Laxus walked forward again, making sure that he was in front of the camera. He leered down at Jose with exaggerated arrogance and delighted at the rage on the man's face. After all he had done, this was what he had coming to him.

"You think maybe this is your own fault?" Laxus taunted. "Maybe you deserve this? Maybe you shouldn't fuck with my team and my friends? That make sense?"

"I am not going to forget this!" Jose growled; the effect dampened by the fact he was a grown man in a kid's pool looking like an idiot.

"Of course you won't. Not when I had this commissioned," He gestured to the nearby building.

Spray painted by one of the art students, who also had a problem with Jose, was a brand-new mural of the man. It was a caricature of Jose covered in pink glue and feathers, sitting pitifully in a pool of dirty water, with a torrent of snowballs flying towards him. He was crying, looking entirely ridiculous, and Freed was making sure the entire piece was caught on camera before panning back to Jose, who spluttered indignantly.

"Happy Christmas Jose," Laxus grinned. "And again, this really is your-"

"What the hell is going on here!" A booming voice cut Laxus off, and flashlights danced over them. Campus security. Fuck.

"Get outta here," He demanded to Freed. "If you get caught you're gonna be kicked out."

"So will you," Freed hissed, the flashlights getting closer.

"I was always gonna be found out, that was the plan."

"There's a difference between confessing after a few weeks have passed and being caught in the act. Jose won't just let this go," Freed snapped, then took Laxus' hand in his own. "Come on."

Laxus didn't have a choice, as Freed pulled him forward with a surprisingly strong grip. Running through a part of the campus he barely knew, Laxus kept his head down so his face couldn't be seen by the security that were chasing them. They took corner after corner, getting further away from the guards each time, and eventually hid in a small alley, where they settled. Freed moved two large trash barrels so that the alley appeared blocked up. He ducked behind them, and Laxus did the same, listening as footsteps ran past them.

After taking a few moments to be sure they were gone, and to catch his breath, Laxus spoke again. "You already knew about this place?"

"I've been on my best behaviour. That doesn't mean I haven't made plans if I decided to have some fun."

"I knew you had a punk side to ya," Laxus grinned as he nudged Freed's shoulder.

"I would have thought that were obvious. Though I suppose you've only seen me dressed like this. I only brought the clothes to look inoffensive; my actual wardrobe would probably shock you."

"You'll have to show me it sometime," Laxus said before he could stop himself.

"If we both survive this without being expelled, maybe I will," Freed shrugged. He leant back against the grimy old barrel without thinking – even that would have seemed impossible of Freed a month ago – and closed his eyes. His face lit up. "I think I needed this. I've been too focused on not making ripples and getting good grades. I needed something cathartic. And God it was cathartic. His face was just amazing."

Freed continued to speak, but Laxus stopped hearing him. Looking at him in this crappy alleyway, his face illuminated by a flickering light a few feet away, Laxus was breathless. Freed was relishing in their victory with a smile that was almost feral, and there was a light in his eyes that Laxus had never seen on another man before. Freed looked alive. Like the life was shining out of him.

He moved before he could think, taking hold of Freed's cheek to turn him. He leant down, tilted his head, and kissed Freed. His chapped lips against Freed's sent a shot of lightning through him, and he felt as though fire was rushing over him. He shifted to get a better position and his knee nudged a dislodged brick, slamming agains the metal barrel they leant against.

Pulling back, his face was red, and panic overthrew delight. "Shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't-"

Freed took a hold of Laxus' hair, tugged at it, and dragged Laxus into another, heated kiss.

One Month Later

"So," Freed said as Laxus walked back into their dorm room. "How did it go?"

"Not too bad," Laxus shrugged.

He had returned from a meeting with his coach, the school's principal, and campus security. They had spread copies of the tape throughout the campus, and eventually Laxus had been deemed the ringleader. It was decided that he needed to face punishment even despite his success on the team. The meeting had been to decide what would happen.

"I've got to paint over the graffiti on my own every Saturday until there's no trace of it," Laxus shrugged off his jacket. It was leather, spiked on the shoulders. Freed had gotten it him for Christmas. He, in return, had gotten Freed a pair of combat boots and insisted Freed wear them. They looked great on him; Laxus would turn him back into a punk if it killed him. "I've also gotta do a couple talks at a load of schools. It kinda sucks but could be worse. And I have to do a fuck load of interviews to raise the profile of the college, so that's good for you, huh?"

"Why would that be good for me?"

"Because they'll wanna take pictures. And one of them is a men's health magazine," Laxus swaggered forward. He grinned down at him, relishing the smirk on his face. "And I'm pretty sure they're gonna want me shirtless."

"Interesting," Freed stood from his desk and placed both hands on Laxus' waist. "While that's all well and good, and I'll be sure to get that edition, I think I have access to something better than some risqué pictures."

"Really?" Laxus asked in a hoarse voice. "What's that?"

"You. Ready for me, any time I want you," Freed smirked, placed a hand on Laxus' chest and pushed. Laxus fell onto their pushed together beds and watched as Freed climbed on him, grinning down on him. He was never so happy to have misjudged someone.

#Fraxus Week 2023 #Fraxus Week #Fraxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #One Shot #writing event #80s AU

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captainaikus · 2 years ago

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𝔹𝕃𝕌𝔼 𝕃𝕆ℂ𝕂 𝕋ℍ𝕀ℝ𝕊𝕋 𝕋𝕎𝔼𝔼𝕋𝕊

ଘ Pairings : None.

ଘ Starring : Isagi Yoichi, Itoshi Rin, Shidou Ryusei, Kunigami Rensuke

ଘ They are 24, and they play for professional teams.

ଘ Warnings : NSFW, mature + crack

ଘ Note : I was going to write more, but I'll save that for part 2. When will it be out? Maybe sometime this week.

Been playing around with this idea to get out of a writer's block.

ଘ WC : 1.8k

As always, if I find any errors while re - reading, I'll make sure to edit it.

Comments, reblogs and likes are very much apprecitated !! <3

ଘ Do not copy, repost, translate or edit my work.

ʚ ɞ Isagi Yoichi :

“I'm Isagi Yoichi from Bastard Munchen, and today I’m going to be reading thirst tweets. I’ve seen celebrities do this… didn’t know I was going to be doing this today.” Isagi said, scratching his cheek slightly.

Reaching into the bucket, he picked out a chit.

“Get yourself a man who looks at you the way Isagi stares at the field”

“I do have to analyze the field before making any moves. Football is not just a sport about the ball, it depends on strategy as well.”

“The cameraman and I can agree that Isagi’s ass is cake.”

“Cake?” Isagi asked, confused. “It means a well figured rear.” one of the crew members said, causing Isagi to go wide eyed, a blush spreading through his cheeks.

“W-Well, I did workout at the gym and trained on the field along with diet control. I’ll probably do more story updates on what I eat during the day and night on my instagram.” he replied with an awkward smile.

“I like how Isagi is like a cute blueberry muffin I’d like to wrap in my blanket, but the moment he has his hair up, I am ready to ride him.”

*silence*

“I uhm… that is quite interesting… but the only one I’d allow to ride me is my partner.” he said, clearing his throat. “Pretty sure, my mom is watching and recording this.”

“Isagi in a suit with those thick thighs. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.”

“That was a rather short talk, but the pants for that suit had to be redone so many times. It was a nightmare.” he sighed.

“Isagi could take me on the field any day and all I would say is ‘thank you sir.’ “

“If you want to play football, let’s schedule a match with time and place. I’ll be there.” he said, pointing at the camera with a smile.

“If Isagi kicked me like a football, I’d ask him to do it over and over again.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” he answered with an awkward chuckle. “The studs on my shoe are used to dig into the ground… Can’t begin to imagine the damage it would do to a person’s face.”

“If I were to ever shake hands with Isagi, I would never wash my hands.” “Rather unhygienic, but very tame compared to the previous tweets.” he said with a smile.

“My ideal weight is Isagi on top of me.”

“Pretty sure I am more heavy and bulky than I look.” he chuckled, crumpling the paper and tossing it to the side.

“That was all?” he asked, peering into the empty mug that had chits.

“Yeah.” the crewmen answered.

“It’s been… entertaining to do this. I am Isagi Yoichi, and these were thirst tweets.”

ʚ ɞ Itoshi Rin :

“What is this?” Rin asked, taking the bucket.

“There are folded chits inside, you have to open them and read.” the cameraman said.

“I see,” he replied.

“This is Itoshi Rin from France P-X-G, and I will be reading your thirst tweets.” he said with a frustrated sigh, reaching into the mug.

“It never ceases to amaze me that Itsohi Rin can look so flawless yet fuckable.”

“An indirect alliteration in English I suppose? If my stylist didn’t do the job right, he would’ve been fired by now.” he replied, reaching into the mug to open another chit.

“Itoshi Rin is all it takes to become wet down under.”

“You get tempted with a name? Pathetic.” he said, crumpling the paper, throwing it behind him.

“Itoshi Rin could slam me into a wall and whisper the dirtiest things in my ear and I would beg for more.”

“I am not a fan of scandals. The only thing I will slam into a goal is a ball.” he replied. “Seriously, what is wrong with people?”

“Itoshi Rin can degrade me till I’m nothing but trash, it’s the only validation I need.”

“The only validation you need is your birth certificate and citizenship documents,” he answered.

“I’d be happy to be choked to death by the sexy, veiny hands of Itoshi Rin.”

“It would end up being a lawsuit and my lawyer had other important matters to attend to, and neither do I want to.” he sighed, eyebrows pinched while crumpling the paper.

“Itoshi rin is good at insults, might have a thing for humiliation.”

“Disgusting.” he said, face contorting into a deep snarl with a frown.

“Itoshi Rin makes me want to learn Yoga. Can he teach me to bend in more ways than one? It would be helpful for future dates.” “I told Matteo to not take pictures for my account, but obviously the fool didn’t listen. Link to my yoga instructor’s account can be found in the post on my social media. Use that as a reference and leave me alone.” Rin said, throwing the paper behind him.

“I like sunsets, what I’d love is to watch you go down.”

“What is this. Wasting your vocabulary skills to type out meaningless flirts rather than actually using it in the corporate world.” Itoshi said, shaking his head.

“It is illegal for a man to look that gorgeous. Can’t deny it, we’d make pretty babies.”

“Fantasy. Shameful that you won’t be having that.” he said with a tiny smirk, folding the paper in one hand and throwing it beside him.

“Itoshi Rin with his tongue hanging out is all I have to think of for release.”

“Maybe Nii chan was right about it being a bad habit.” Rin muttered.

“There are so many… I can’t do any more of this. It’ll trigger a migraine and I have a meeting after.” Rin said, setting the mug down.

“Hope to see some of you filths in the stands in June. This has been Itoshi Rin, reading thirst tweets.”

ʚ ɞ Shidou Ryusei :

“Oooh!! Puppies!!” Ryusei exclaimed, running towards the said object of excitement. “We had no choice but to get them right?” the cameraman muttered to the crewman.

“It’s better to balance something cute and innocent with his… spontaneous personality.” the crewman answered, pushing his glasses up.

“And… we’re rolling.”

“I’m Shidou Ryusei from Real drid and I will be doing thirst tweets.” Shidou said, reaching into the mug with chits.

“Shidou Ryusei is feral. I actually dig that.”

“Really? The amount of criticism I got for that is actually insane. But… good to know I guess.” he said with a shrug, crumpling the paper and putting it aside.

“Choke me with those thighs, Daddy.”

“Choke you!!” he exclaimed, laughing while rubbing the chin of a puppy in his lap. “Nah, don’t want to have trouble with the law.” he said, throwing the paper to the side.

“Shidou Ryusei gives off big dick energy. I guarantee I can make it fit.”

“Woah.” he said with his eyes bulging out, laughing. “That is some… creativity. I like it.”

“Shidou Ryusei can smash my ass in and I would bend over to say ‘Spank me daddy.’” even more.”

“Red card for violence.” Shidou hollered, the puppy in his lap barking. “Little guy here agrees with me too.”

“The things I would let Shidou Ryusei do to me.”

“The sentence is incomplete, but the picture gets across.” Ryusei said with his tongue sticking out.

“Shidou Ryusei can read chemicals and I’d take it as dirty talking.”

“Hm… Chemistry isn’t my thing, since I got scouted right after high school and began my professional career. Maybe some chemicals here and there I could recognize, but not the real actual name.” Ryusei said, crumpling the slip of paper.

“If Shidou Ryusei was a god, I’d be his daily worshiper.”

“Make sure to bring Yukhoe and Chainsaw man as offerings.” he said with a smile, giving the puppy belly rubs. “This one was relatively tame, wasn’t it.”

“Shidou Ryusei can sit on my face and suffocate me.”

“You guys are really violent today when I’m usually the one that’s told that.” he said, pointing at the camera while a puppy licked his face.

“It’s illegal that Ryusei lets his sweat drip on the grass and floor when it should be bottled water.”

“Isn’t that too much salt? Maybe I should take up this idea with Anri chan” he said, showing a toothy smile, spreading his legs out on the floor. With one of the puppies dragging the mug away from him, he looks into the camera.

“My manager says that’s all for today, folks. This has been Shidou Ryusei, reading your thirst tweets.”

“Woof!”

ʚ ɞ Kunigami Rensuke :

“And what do I have to do with these slips of paper?” the amber haired man asked, eyes filled with curiosity.

“You just have to read those.” the crewman said.

“Okay… uh. This is Kunigami Rensuke from Bastard Munchen and I’m going to be reading thirst tweets.”

“It should be illegal for Kunigami to have an ass shown live for free.”

“Getting right off the bat aren’t we. Is my ass filmed so much that the ball I’m taking in the front is out of the picture?” he asked, squinting his eyebrows.

“Kunigami can break my back like a glow stick.”

“Why do you want to get hurt?” he asked, scrunching his eyebrows, throwing the slip of paper behind him.

“Watching Kunigami’s muscles shouldn’t be for free.”

“It was ‘cause of the shot in the locker room wasn’t it? Should’ve told Noa to not let the press in there.” he said with a chuckle, throwing the slip of paper away.

“I would sell my house to just touch or if I’m lucky spank Kunigami’s ass.”

“Uhm…” he swallowed, staring at the paper. “The internet is a scary place.”

“Kunigami can pound me with his left knee and I would still be begging for more.”

“You guys are really wild huh… “ he said, shaking his head, tossing the crumpled ball of paper.

“If I were to die, the last meal I beg to have is Kunigami’s ass.”

“Why is everyone after my ass?!” Kunigami exclaimed, covering his face with his palm.

“I’d happily buy Kunigami’s bathwater.”

“Is this from the instagram post that Isagi and Bachira made while we were in the onsen?” Rensuke asked, eyebrows pinching. “Bathwater? Can’t guarantee what you’ll do with it, but since you’re freaks, I’ll leave it to you.” he added with a chuckle.

“The things I imagine Kunigami would do to me if he tied me up with his sweaty jersey.”

“Actually, we can’t take our jerseys off. It would be a yellow card.” He said with a straight face, tossing the paper away.

“The only way I would learn is by being spanked into submission by Kunigami Rensuke.”

“No comment.” he said, crumpling the paper in his fist with an awkward expression.

“My doctor filled out a prescription, and the only one that I need is a vitamin D from Kunigami Rensuke.” “I’m not sure which pill to buy you, so I’m not the best person to ask,” he said with a shrug.

"Well... uh. It's been fun. This was Kunigami Rensuke from Bastard Munchen, reading thirst tweets. Think I need a latte." he said, setting the mug down.

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

Text

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Leviathan #obey me beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me MC #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years ago

Text

Blue Spiders - Chapter 2

Summary: Fear pushes your relationship along.

Warnings: Light horror, background alcohol, (I have not warned for everything possible, please read at your own risk)

Words: 2k

Pairing: Therapist! Steve Rogers x female reader

Part One

She lived in an apartment. That was problematic. Houses were much easier to break in to undetected. At least it wasn’t in a great neighborhood and the locks on her doors were pathetic. All he needed was a credit card to break them. He accomplished that task this morning.

Steve in no way wanted her death tied to him or the New England Butcher. The kill would be a quick one. Gunshot, he hoped for a mugging gone bad, but it appeared she never left her place after dark.

Ten days he had been watching her, observing, waiting for the moment to strike. But she was always home before sundown, never to retreat again. He wouldn’t risk a daytime public murder. Too many loose ends.

It looked like the next option would be breaking and entering. Doable, but not ideal. Look like a robbery. Bullet to the head and the world would have one less awful person in it.

Under normal circumstances Steve felt nothing when preparing for a kill. Sometimes a mild rush of glee during the act and then a bit of euphoria after, especially if it was a victim he intended Agent Barnes to tie to the New England Butcher.

But this felt different. Personal. The few times he spotted her during the day he felt betrayed. How could she lie to him about her identity to get a profile for some dumb blog? And why did he feel a connection.

His watch beeped and he checked the time. Three thirty in the morning. She would be fast asleep. It would be over soon. Then the euphoria would come just as it had with the others. He was certain of it.

The sound of his car door slamming echoed across the empty street as he began his walk in the shadows, four blocks away from his destination.

You didn’t believe in a sixth sense, or you didn’t want to, but something was off. Wrong. You were being followed. Could it be him?

You finally felt somewhat safe here. Comfortable enough you followed your passion and started to make a name for yourself. Sure Miranda’s Museum of the Macabre wasn’t a big deal yet, but you were growing a following and you loved that type of reporting.

The last few days you were cursing yourself for even starting the thing. Today when you got home and saw the locks weren’t working your paranoia vanished.

Whoever broke them was subtle about it. If you hadn’t been paranoid you wouldn’t have noticed, thought that the chain was shut tight when a light tap would drop it. The deadbolt hole was splintered and pressed back into place. Anyone with a driver’s license and a shoulder would be able to break the thing down.

The right thing would have been to run, or call the police. Neither option was intriguing. So you sat next to the thing, waiting in the darkness. Every time footsteps sounded outside the hall you steadied the shotgun, blinking away the tears that you might have to blow someone’s head off.

Maybe you were going crazy. The locks had always been broken and you only noticed now? Maybe nobody was following you. Just the ghosts of your past.

Then, at almost four in the morning after standing guard for eight hours footsteps stopped in front of your door.

Your adrenaline flared. You cocked the gun right as your knob started to turn. It froze. Fuck! They heard the noise.

The handle fell back in place. They were leaving. All the shaking you were feeling came flooding back.

You needed to open the door. Find out who they were, what they wanted. But instead you collapsed, hugging the shotgun as the footsteps retreated. Would you ever be safe?

Loss of sleep was an understatement. Tonight you would get a hotel room. Then decide if you wanted to call the cops, fix the door, or flee. Life was exhausting enough and it felt like you’d only just started living.

The door to the office opened and you rose to your feet, pinning on your best smile as Dr. Rogers walked a patient out.

His face looked cold, but his blue eyes widened with surprise.

“Hi.” You gave a nervous wave. “I have something for you.”

His patient waved goodbye as you stepped forward, article in hand.

“What is this?” He grabbed the pages.

“The article. I said I would send over a copy, but I thought with the way things ended I should drop one off in person.” You fidgeted, thinking about your run in with Barnes the last time. “As promised, a glowing puff piece. It will be in the weekend edition.”

You watched as his eyes’ scanned the pages. His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Is something wrong?” You rocked on your feet, hoping to see what line he was at. “I taped the interview, but if I messed up a fact or misspoke there is time to correct before it goes to print.”

“So the article was real?” The Doctor looked up at you with wide eyes. “It wasn’t a ruse for your blog?”

“Ah.” You bit your lip as you looked away. “I am sure Agent Barnes gave you an earful. Yes the story was real. I write human interest pieces, Miranda’s Museum doesn’t really pay the bills.”

“So this is your real name?” Steve squinted. “Rachelle Miller?”

“No.” You blinked. “I write under multiple pen names.”

“So what is your real name?” Steve folded his arms.

“Friends call me Vee.” You shrugged.

“That’s not what I asked.” His eyes locked on to yours.

You hadn’t spoken your real name in years. Legally it was changed, and with all the pseudonyms you used you hadn’t spoken it outloud in years.

“Well, um, I will get out of your hair. I am sure you have a busy day. E-mail me if there are problems with the article.” Your blood ran hot and you regretted coming here.

“No.” His hand reached out and grabbed your arm.

You glanced at his fingers and then turned to see his intensite eyes bearing into your own. His fingers slipped away.

“I mean with all do respect, but you look a little rough.” He nodded to his office. “Come in and have a drink. I owe you an apology.”

“Me?” You blinked and shook your head. “Did Bucky tell you I am just a gossip columnist and was lying to you? Using you for Miranda’s nefarious purposes?”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality.” He made a playful shrug.

“Yeah. I bet he left out the part where he asked me out nonstop for over a year until I was forced to write something nasty about him on my blog.” You thought about the person at your door last night, could it have been Bucky? He didn’t seem the most stable. “I may have crossed a line, but what I wrote wasn’t wrong and he, well I think anyone who has met the man isn’t afraid to use the word obsessive to describe him.”

“I cannot confirm, deny, or discuss Agent Barnes.” Doctor Rogers walked over to a small liquor cabinet. “What would you like?”

“Bourbon? Scotch?” You took a seat. “I’ll settle for anything brown with a nice burn.”

“Multiple pen names?” The doctor came back over and handed you a drink. “How many?”

“Three I use on the regular. I do a lot of freelance writing and they each have their own specialty. Then several one offs. I have used them one or two times and let them die.” You took a sip and let the liquid hit your tongue, wanting to swirl it around your mouth and wishing it would numb your mind in the same way.

“Care to share why?” He sat down and crossed his legs. “That seems like a lot of compartmentalism.”

“Not a patient.” You laughed as you leaned back.

“Let me guess, they are all as generic as Miranda Balfour, Rachelle Miller?” Dr. Rogers leaned back in his chair. “You want a legitimate digital footprint, but not one that can be traced back to you. Why?”

“You sound like Bucky.” You tilted your glass toward him. “Only he has decided Miranda must be my real name. I would not try to do a deep dive on me Doctor. I am not interested in opening up.”

“I am not your Doctor. Please, call me Steve.” His eyes scanned you up and down. “You look very tired. Late night? I hope it wasn’t on my behalf.”

“It was and it wasn’t. In that order.” You let out a sigh. “Since you’re not my doctor Steve, and you can’t think I’m crazy since there is no medical relationship. I think someone, no, I know someone tried to break into my apartment early this morning.”

“Did you call the police?” A look of horror crossed his face as he leaned forward. “You should not wait on that.”

“I am not a fan of cops and they are not my fan either.” You gritted your teeth before taking another sip. “I cocked my gun too early. Someone had been following me, all week. I felt it in my bones. And then I noticed my locks had been messed with. So I waited and I felt so paranoid, but then the clock hits 3:44 and the handle jiggles. I should have let the door open, blown their brains out without asking a single question. But they heard the noise. Ran off before I had the chance.”

“There is a lot to unpack there.” Steve reached out and touched your knee. “Are you safe?”

“No.” You smiled at him. “Never. I’m going to get a hotel room tonight. Figure things out from there. Get some sleep, a clear head.”

“If you think someone is targeting you, you shouldn’t stay alone.” His hand dragged away. “Friends or family you can stay with?”

“What was the line you used? My work doesn’t leave much time for personal relationships. I’m either writing a freelance story of working on the Miranda project. Hoping someday it takes off and I can do that full time.”

“I apologize for being so forward, but I can be your friend, or else your colleague in the work horse force.” Steve set his glass down. “And I have plenty of extra bedrooms.”

You didn’t mean to display the cringe, and tried to bury it down, but there was a pain on his face.

“That is a very kind offer.” You slammed the rest of your drink. “But you are not my doctor, or my friend, you’re a stranger right now and I wouldn’t feel comfortable imposing.”

“I understand.” Steve grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled as you stood up. “I would like to take you to dinner, are you free Friday?”

“Now you’re really going to think I’m crazy, but with the strange feeling I was being followed and the incident last night, I have been scared to leave my apartment after dark.” The liquor had relaxed your tongue too much. “Well, now hotel.”

“I will pick you up at your door, we can go to my place and I’ll cook for you, and then I will drive you home.” There was something in his voice, this was the first time he had made this request in some time. “You will be safe the entire time.”

“Alright.” You couldn’t explain it, but there was a feeling in your heart, like it was drawn to his. Not mental, like a strange string was pulling you tigher. “I am staying at the budget in on Wilcox.”

He opened his mouth, but shut it right away and nodded. You started to walk to the door and he followed. Being in his office was the most relaxed you’d been in some time.

“Friday then.” He slipped you a piece of paper, you opened it up to see a phone number.

“I can’t remember the last time someone didn’t just text me their number.” You smiled eat him. “You are old fashioned in all the right ways.”

“Feel free to put that in your phone and use it.” Steve looked serious. “Any time, day or night. I don’t approve of your distrust of law enforcement or wanting assistance, but I respect it. Never hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” You looked at the ground, not wanting to face those blue eyes again, scared if you did you would end up being a roommate at the man's house. “And thank you for believing me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He was taken aback.

“Sometimes I’m not even sure I believe myself.” You blinked away tears and squared your shoulders looking him in the eyes. “Anyone else would have told me it was late, I was tired, I almost killed a delivery man.”

“I look forward to continuing this conversation on Friday.” Steve gave a boyish grin. “Or sooner, if you need anything at all.”

“Friday then.” You folded up the piece of paper and put it in your back pocket.

It was odd to find something to look forward to and for a moment you wished you were crazy and not thinking about fleeing and starting over yet again.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This is turning into a bit of a slow burn, but I think the next chapter will heat up!

Tags: @toozmanykids

#steve rogers x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #hannibal #au #marvel fanfic

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gustafsnightangel · 4 years ago

Text

A Softer Side Part 8

11 pm came too soon, Karl thought as they gathered around the rec room and tracked the auction. He was fidgety, he was never fidgety. Something about this just felt off in his gut.

“You feeling it too boss?” Jerry asked, fingers busy on the laptop.

“Gut feeling we’re missing something.” He muttered. There was a connection they weren’t seeing, someone they should be looking at and weren’t.

“Same.” Hunt muttered, his leg bobbing up and down nervously as he worked.

They worked in near silence, watching the lock tick down and the auction price tick up. By the time the auction closed they were at 8.3 million.

“He went hard in the end to get her.” Jerry snarled and pulled up the information on their old commanding officer.

“Dig into him, we need to know who’s pulling the strings above him.” Strand said quietly and drilled a finger into the screen. “Meekland or someone else?” He was thinking out loud.

“I don’t think she’s part of it. Not this side boss.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

“Steve’s getting the call, funds were just deposited.” Jerry patched the call through so they could all hear.

“How’s my lovely Lenore?” A familiar voice sounded and Strand snapped his head to look over at Ayla as she cried out softly. She was shaking violently, her breath in short sharp gasps as she fought the panic. Hands clasped over her mouth to stop any further sound coming out as the tears erupted.

“Just fine.” Wainwright ground out. They were on dangerous ground here with no intel on this guy.

“Usual pickup, bring Lenore and the laptop, I’ll check the books while I’m here.” The mystery voice drawled, such arrogant confidence, Strand thought. Karl knew that voice but couldn’t place it.

“You’ll have to refresh my memory.” Steve said. “We’ve had a few usual pickup spots over the years.” Strand swore, they were so fucked, even Jerry blew out a few colorful curses.

“Then you’ll need to figure it out won’t you. You know I don’t discuss locations. 3 am, bring Lenore.” The line went dead.

“Fuck!” He heard Steve swear. “We’re fucked boss. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He sighed, it was far from fine, but what else could they do? Moving to Ayla he crouched down and stroked a knuckle over her cheek and she flinched as her eyes snapped to his. “You’re ok sweet girl.” Her terror filled eyes destroyed him. “He can’t get you here remember?” Her fingers reached for him, something tangible, grounding.

“You know who that was don’t you sweet girl?” She nodded. “Can you tell me, show me?” She shook her head. “You’re scared?” She nodded, the tears slipping down her face, the quiet sob following. He watched her a moment and decided to push, he had to or they were dead in the water.

“Ayla I need to know who we’re dealing with so I can put him on Hades 6 with Raven, can you help me?” She shook her head. “He can’t touch you here.” He said honestly. Her hand flattened against his chest over his heart and it clicked, she was worried for him. “You’re scared somethings going to happen to me?” She nodded and the soft sob ripped his soul right open. “I’ll be right here with you sweet girl.” He gave her a gentle smile. “We really need your help.”

He could see her think about it, her hand fisting in his shirt, she was protecting him from someone, something. If she didn’t help they were royally screwed. The guy was a ghost, especially when using others to keep his hands out of the filth.

“Is it someone above Meekland?” He asked, her eyes locked onto his and she nodded. “Someone associated with where I worked, where she works?” A nod.

“Jerry pull up our top tier branch and then all political and military affiliates.” He said, if they could find a photo it would be a start.

“Do you know what he looks like Ayla?” She nodded and a tremor shuddered through her. Yeah you know, he seethed silently, because he’s abused you too. “Mia can you get a likeness of Ayla to Burke, another holo mask? She’s going to need to stand in for the handover.”

“Already on it.” She quipped as she was leaving the room.

“We maybe flying blind for this one.” Strand muttered. It wasn’t ideal but they may have to just wing it and make shit up as they went. Photographs popped up on the screen and Ayla studied them and dismissed them one after another. Either he wasn’t there or she was to frightened to reveal him.

“I’ve traced the call.” Jerry said triumphantly. “And I’m tracking that assholes phone.”

“It’s a start.” Karl murmured as he watched Ayla. “I’m going to have to go in for this one.” He said gently. “We need to get the DNA laptop to Burke.” He was thinking out aloud as he turned to Ayla. “Can you set it up for her like you did for Jerry?” He asked and she shook her head, no.

Getting on his knees in front of her he took her hand in his and looked at her. “She needs the laptop sweet girl.” She shook her head again and with shaky hands pointed to herself. He frowned not getting her meaning.

“Half Moon Bay.” Mia said coming back in and slapping the paper down. “Straight from the horses mouth.”

“Raven?” Strand’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“I phoned a friend.” Her grin was feral.

“I’m beginning to like your friends.” He chuckled. “As deranged as that sounds when they’re inmates of Hades 6.”

“Just texted it to the team, they’re on their way.” Hunt said and got down to business at coordinating the team into position.

He watched Ayla watch the screens as the takedown got organized. “Sweet girl we need the laptop to work for Burke.” He said softly his hand softly taking hers, her head shaking, pleading with him not to do it. “I need to take it to her so we can get this guy.” She shook her head, the sobs louder as she pointed to herself and then slapped her hand against the paper Mia had written the address on. “You need to go?” He asked and felt his gut bottom out, fear turning his blood cold as she nodded. “No.” He said simply. “Absolutely not. I’m not taking you anywhere near him.” She shot out of her chair and shoved him. “We can’t put you in his hands Ayla, I can’t.” He choked on the last two words. “I’ll give the laptop to Burke and she will fill in for you.”

“No!” She sobbed, her hysterical rasp quavering, the fear and anguish at hearing that voice had sent her spiraling. Grabbing her laptop she pushed past him, giving him no choice but to let her go, the vital piece of equipment in hand. He stood and took a step to go after her, but stopped as the door to her room slammed.

“She’s trying to protect you.” Mia said softly. “Protect us.”

“I know.” Karl’s sigh was long as he scrubbed his hand over his face. “Without the laptop were fucked because he’s going to KNOW what it looks like and how it operates.”

“I’m working on a copy. We just have to draw him out right?”

“Yeah.” Karl looked at the array of faces on the screens, waiting for one of them to pop out at him. He knew the guy, the voice, he just couldn’t place it. “Just enough to get him out in the open.”

”Let me see what I can do.” Jerry nodded and got to work.

“How long by chopper Mia?” He asked briskly.

“Thirty.”

“Wheels up in an hour.” He said glancing at the clock. “I want a little time to scope it out and get with Wainwright and Burke.”

“Copy that.” He could tell she was irritated, whether with him or the situation he wasn’t quite sure.

“Look, Mia, I know I could have handled that better but we’re on a time crunch with bigger problems.”

“I know.”

“I’m not putting her anywhere near him.”

“You may not have a choice.” Jerry sighed and pointed to the screen, an identical DNA laptop popped up.

“I don’t have his financials, Ayla only cleared me so many levels down on that thing. I can make you a box that looks the same, but as to what it holds, I’m fucked. Also, she doesn’t have access to Burke’s blood to give her access either.”

“Shit.” Strand growled and scrubbed a hand over his face, it was going from bad to worse. “I’m going to have to take her with us.”

“In position.” Davis said as their feed came online.

“Meekland’s there.” Strand fumed as he watched Sarah climb out of the back of the SUV.

“Shit could get very real depending on how much she’s had to divulge.” Jerry huffed.

“And a few others from the office.” Strand noted, pointing them out as they took their positions forming a perimeter.

“I really don’t like this boss.” Jerry said quietly. “It’s got fall out written all over it.”

“Ten minutes before we have to leave Karl, I suggest you talk to your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.” He snapped.

“Sure.” Her smirk was wicked and it grated on his every nerve. “I hate this as much as you do Strand, but if we have any chance of pulling this off we’re going to need her with us.”

“Fuck!” He roared. How could he promise her she would safe and then turn around and drag her into the middle of it, put her with the people he so desperately wanted to keep her safe from? He stalked to her door and took a calming breath before knocking. There was no answer as he looked skyward for any help at all and opened the door.

She sat in the corner of the room, huddled against the drywall, silent tears falling, the laptop in her lap. “Sweet girl.” He sighed and sat beside her. “I’m sorry.”

“He’ll kill you.” She sobbed, her voice husky from disuse and emotion.

“He’s welcome to try, but I’d prefer that than you being there.”

“He’ll know it’s not me, she’ll die too.” She sobbed.

“Burke?” He asked and brushed a finger down her arm as she nodded. “He has a set routine, a pattern with you doesn’t he.” He stated more than asked as it clicked. “Jerry was right you’re the cypher, your his cypher, not Ravens.” He kissed her hair as she nodded. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, savoring her scent in case it was the last time he’d get to do so. “We need to go.” He said quietly and felt her nod, resigned to the fact she was going back to that hell, and he was the one to drag her there.

******

With the helicopter loaded they headed out leaving Jerry to hold down base command. The trip helped him get his head in the game and focus, especially on keeping Ayla safe, which felt like an impossibility. She would have no protection except for Mia, no vest, nothing, this asshole would smell it a mile away. It was literally one missed step and she’d be captured or worse. They touched down and Mia left to hunt for higher ground and a good nest.

“Keep her safe.” He growled as Mia set out.

“I’ll put a bullet in him if he tries to take her.” She said it with such conviction Strand knew she wasn’t fucking around. “I will lay waste to them all if they hurt her.”

Sitting in the SUV with Wainwright and Burke he could feel Ayla trembling, her hand in a death grip with his. “Give us a minute you guys.” He murmured to the others and thanked the gods they hauled themselves out of the car without question. “Sweet girl look at me.” He brushed a knuckle down her cheek and she locked those sea green eyes onto him. “You don’t have to do this, Burke can take over.” She shook her head and he kissed her brow, lingering. “Don’t get in the car with him, you fight it if he tries to take you.” He knew, deep down he knew this was all going to go to shit. “Promise me.” He growled. “You’re not leaving with him.”

“Thank you.” She said softly, her fingers brushing his lips. “For finding me.”

“No, don’t you say goodbye.” He snapped. “This doesn’t end here Ayla.”

There was a knock at the window, their time was up. She looked at him for a long time, as if committing his face to memory. “I love you.” She whispered and kissed him tenderly. His heart broke at those words, shattered when she tore herself away from him and opened the car door stepping out into the early morning. He watched her climb in the other car with Wainwright and Burke, petrified, shaking, but so brave and determined to keep him safe, to keep them all safe to save the case and the girls.

******

“In position.” Steve said gruffly. “For the record. I really don’t like this.”

“Me either, but we’re out of options.”

“So we just hand him the keys to his kingdom?” Steve spat.

“No, we trust Jane Doe.” He didn’t utter her name, the name she’d chosen for herself. There were only four people in existence that knew her real name and Strand would protect that at all costs. It was hers, and she’d need to disappear after this, that name in tact. “We trust Mia. He’s not leaving with her.” THAT, Strand was damn sure of. Mia would lay waste to every beating heart to protect her.

“Incoming.” Davis said sharply and Karl ’s fingers stopped their thrumming on the steering wheel.

He watched on his laptop, saw the car pull up, as Meekland got out of the car with his old CO, Trevor Bower. “Now we find out where your loyalties lie.” He mumbled, all while pleading to her in his head not to sell them out.

“Jane, stay in the car until I come and get you ok?” Steve said quickly before engaging his holographic mask and climbing out.

“Where is he, I’d like to get this over with?” Wainwright snapped as he stood in front of the vehicle, anything to put a barrier between them and Ayla Strand thought.

“On his way, don’t be impatient.” Meekland all but snapped out.

“Car approaching.” Davis reported.

“Archangel?” Strand said softly.

“I’m here.” He smiled as her sweet lilt came over coms.

“He doesn’t get her in the car.” Was all he said, was all he had to say.

“Copy that. Light him up Hunt.” Mia instructed.

“Like a beacon.” Jerry said down the line.

The team held their breath as the car door opened and a tall salt and pepper haired man exited. As he stood to his full height Strand felt his heart stop beating. “Rudy Winters. Son of a bitch.”

“Who is this guy?” Jerry asked. “I have zero on him.”

“He’s a ghost.”

“And a really bad guy.” Mia added, Strand could hear her rack the bolt of her rifle.

“Yes he is.” Karl said quietly. “Ex military, we served together. He went one way, I went the other after Syria, only to have our paths cross again when we were taking down a drug ring. I barely made it out, Peter didn’t.”

“Sarah sold you out that time too, this only proves it.” Mia snapped.

“Yep, apparently I was so very wrong about her.”

******

“Good to see you Allen.” The smirk on Rudy’s face was pure predator. “Or should I call you Wainwright?” He chuckled and the next sound Karl heard was of a pistol being cocked, his laptop screen showing the barrel against Sarah’s head. “Well done pet.” He purred and Strand held his breath, they were so very, very fucked. “Now pet, where is Karl Strand?”

“I don’t... I don’t know sir.” Her voice shook and that sir wasn’t through arousal this time, it was pure fear.

“Oh come now, where there’s one rat there are multiple.” His drawl sickeningly smooth.

“Don’t do it Sarah, just tell him I’m here.” Karl mumbled as he prepared to make his presence known. “He’ll kill you if you lie.”

“I know you’re listening Karl. You have thirty seconds to join us, or she dies.” He chuckled. “And you know I’m not bluffing.”

“Shit.” Strand swore. “Archangel?” He said starting the car and barreling to the meet point.

“I’ve got you covered.”

“We may have to shoot our way out of this.” He snarled.

“Locked and loaded boss.” Davis’s growl set Karl somewhat at ease.

Pulling up alongside Steve’s car, Karl got out and walked forward, stepping in front of Wainwright.

“Ahhh Karl, good to see you again.” Winters grinned.

“Pity I can’t say the same.” He spat.

“Careful.” He warned. “I have no qualms pulling the trigger.”

Now usually Karl would have said, go ahead, or something to that effect, this was the one exception, Winters was the one exception, because he would. Just for shits and giggles he would, Sarah was expendable, they all were. All except Ayla. Karl was surprised he hadn’t, especially if he knew he and Sarah had fucked on the side.

“I know you don’t.” He growled as the thoughts of his partner Peter came flooding back. He should have learned Sarah’s true colors from that night but he hadn’t.

“Where’s Lenore?” That quick violent temper showing its face.

“Who?” Rudy shoved the barrel harder against Sarah’s temple.

“Don’t get cute with me boy.” His snarl was feral.

“Let Sarah go and I’ll bring her out.” He had to get Sarah out of range for Mia to take a clean shot.

“No, that’s not how this works.” Winters grinned.

“Then no deal.” He was winging it and this didn’t sit well with him at all.

“Maybe I’ll just shoot her, then you, and drag Lenore out of the car myself.” The icy edge to his tone made the hairs on the back of Strands neck stand up. He could only imagine what was going through Ayla’s mind right now.

“What is she to you anyway? Sarah? We’ve been trying to figure it out.” He could see the question caught him off guard, but recovered quickly.

“What I should be asking is what she is to you? Sarah? Lenore? What are they to you Karl Strand?” He purred.

“Sarah’s my boss and Lenore is a Jane Doe, a name in a case.” He said it with such conviction he hoped Winters couldn’t read anything else into it.

“Mmm interesting.” His eyes flicked to the car behind Karl. “Lenore!” He bellowed, those vicious eyes flicked to Strand and he grinned.

He willed her to stay in the car with every fiber of his being, to not put herself through anymore trauma, his heart sinking as her soft hand gripped his. How was he going to get them out of this alive?

“There she is, Lenore my little whore.” He said in a sing song voice. “You know the deal, in the car.” He snapped, twitching his head toward his vehicle and she took a jerky step.

“Don’t get in.” Karl mumbled low. “Whatever you do sweet girl, don’t get in the car.” She squeezed his hand and let it drop. He watched her walk to Rudy, her steps tentative, braced ready to flee. As Ayla got within arms reach of Rudy, he pounced, wrapping his arm around her neck and plastering the terrified woman to his chest.

“Which of my little whores did you get a taste for Strand?” He grinned, his kiss to Ayla’s ear not as tender or loving as it should be.

“Neither.”

“Lying will get people killed.” Rudy scolded. “Didn’t you learn that with Peter?”

“Oh boss let me waste this fucker.” Mia whispered.

“Tell him Strand.” Sarah said, her eyes wide with fear.

“Hush pet.” Winters growled. “I already know he’s fucked you. What I want to know is did he taint my Lenore?” He stared at Karl as if studying him like an open book, the deep inhale of Ayla’s scent making him grin. “The truth now Strand or Sarah, as you know her, dies.”

Schooling his face, his emotions, he lied through his teeth. “I never touched her, she’s a little too broken for me.” He watched her eyes widen, the hurt flood into them. Sweet girl I’m lying through my teeth here don’t hate me for it, he pleaded silently.

“Really?” He said flatly and all humor faded from his eyes. “Because I smell you on her boy.” That tone was lethal fury. “You fucked her.”

“She was in the car with me so I’m not surprised.” Karl hoped he was making this better and not monumentally worse. “I like my women a little less broken, a little more fuckable.”

“That’s because I raised her to be mine, broke her to remake her how I wanted. She was my first.” He kissed Ayla’s head and lowered the weapon for the moment. “If you had to choose one or the other which would it be?” Rudy asked so flippantly it was almost like a standard conversational question and at that moment Strand knew he was screwed. He saw the sly grin, the deadly game they were neck deep in. “Well?”

“Lenore.” He took the gamble.

“Really?” Winters eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Well in that case.” It happened in slow motion, in a blink of an eye. Winters raised his weapon, the shot ringing out, no hesitation, ice cold. He watched as Sarah crumpled to the ground, lifeless. He knew he screamed her name and stepped to rush to her, he stopped dead as Rudy’s gun pointed to him.

“Take him out Archangel.” Davis growled.

“I don’t have a clear shot, I’ll hit Lenore.” She snapped. “Otherwise I would have fucking taken it already.”

“I was tired of her anyway. Seems you weren’t though.” Winters chuckled. “Sorry about that.” Rudy stared him down. “But I don’t share.” His growl had Ayla whimpering, the fear rooting her to the spot. “We’ll be going now. I need to reacquaint myself with my little whore.”

“No, you won’t.” Strand said calmly, he had to keep a level head.

“Unless you want more to die tonight Strand, better to cut your losses.”

“You’re not leaving here with her.” Karl growled through clenched teeth, Rudy’s laugh mirthful. The fucker was just pure evil. “You see I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t leave her, wouldn’t let you take her from here, one I intend to keep.” Strands gaze never left Ayla’s. Fight sweet girl, he screamed silently, don’t let him take you from me.

“I need him to let her go Strand.” Mia growled through her teeth.

Karl started to move forward and stopped when the barrel of Winters gun pressed against Ayla’s temple.

“That’s quite far enough.” His tone was flat.

“You won’t kill her, she’s your access to the laptop, you can’t use it without her.”

“You been spreading my secrets Lenore?” He gripped her tighter, shaking her roughly, the poor woman a rag doll in his arms.

“She told us everything. Financials, websites, the entire syndicate.” Strand kept talking, laying their entire case at his feet. If Winters did make it out alive, they had enough for authorities to send him to Hades 6. He kept his focus on Winters, not daring to look at Ayla, seeing each word enrage Rudy more and more as he talked. That’s it you fucker, focus on me, he thought.

Hold him steady right there boss.” Mia said softly. “I’m almost good.” Her breath was labored, she’d moved from her nest for a better shot.

“Then maybe it’s time for you to die Karl Strand.” Winters snarled.

He heard the shot, felt the hit, and went down only to see Ayla fall lifelessly to the ground at Winters feet. A split second later another shot rang out and Winters crumpled to the dirt, vacant eyes staring back at him.

“Stay down Strand.” Mia growled as she unleashed, bodies dropping all around her, Davis moving in from all around them. He crawled to her, heart in his throat, lungs struggling to suck in oxygen at the impact, tears already streaking his cheeks, she couldn’t be.

Then there was silence, a bone chilling, eerie silence. He scrambled to Ayla, wincing from the hit to the vest, his ribs would be bruised to hell. Not seeing any blood he rolled her tenderly, the scrape mark on her temple her only wound.

“Is she?” Jerry couldn’t finish the question as he choked up over com.

Checking for a pulse Karl let out a shuddered breath. “No, she’s alive.”

“I’m bringing the chopper to you.” Mia said shakily as she tore across the field.

Pulling her into his lap he cradled her and felt relieved yet broken, she’d saved him, she’d sacrificed her life for his. It replayed in his head over and over as people moved around them. As Winters had taken his stance to shoot Karl, Ayla had moved, had kicked and thrashed right as the shot went off sending Winters off balance.

“Get a good sample of his blood.” Strand said to Burke as she crouched beside him. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it to access his files on her laptop.”

“You got it boss.”

Mia landed twenty minutes later and they were airborne mere minutes after that, back home, back to safety.

“Sweet girl.” He murmured. “Come back to me Ayla, you’re safe, I’ve got you.” The entire ride back he soothed her, willing her to wake, to look at him with sea green eyes so he could tell her what he should have told her before they left.

******

While Davis and the team cleaned up the site, Mia and Karl landed close to the house, Strand taking Ayla immediately inside. It deeply concerned him she hadn’t woken, the scratch on her temple more visible in the better lighting looked like the bullet that hit him had grazed her first. It was the only explanation.

“Let me see.” Mia said gruffly, her hands tender as she helped him move Ayla to the dining table and lay her out. He watched Mia work, her medic training paying off yet again. “Vest off, dig the slug out, I bet her blood is on it.”

“Grazed her?” He asked still in shock and a world of pain himself as he tentatively took the vest off, not able to hide the wince.

“It did, and the temple is not a good place for it to get trauma like that.”

“Hospital?”

“No, too many questions and I have all the monitoring equipment here, I’ll call my buddy, he owes me. We just have to wait it out. I’ll give her something to help reduce the swelling if there’s any and we wait.” Mia looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “She saved your life. Had he fired from his original position you might not be breathing.”

“I know.”

“Get her settled into her bed while I fetch what I need.” Mia hurried out and grabbed Jerry on her way past to help, dragging him to the basement.

Scooping her off the table into his arms he took her to her bedroom, talking to her the whole time, reassuring her she was safe, that she was in her room. He stripped her naked with tenderness, his fingers shaking as he went, the adrenaline was going to crash from his system soon and he wasn’t prepared for that fallout just yet. After tucking her in he fetched a washcloth and wiped the dust from her face, her hands, and let his tears fall. He’d done this, he’s put her in harms way.

“I’m sorry Ayla.” He whispered and brushed those tears away angrily as Mia and Jerry walked in.

“Marco will be here in twenty. Best neuro guy in the country.” She squeezed his forearm gently and started to clean Ayla’s wound. “I’m going to run some scans and see where were at with everything.”

Karl didn’t leave her side while Marco assessed her. Monitor for swelling and ride it out was all they could do, her MRI was clear. She’d have a wicked headache when she came too. Lucky, she was damn lucky. Mia kicked him out for twenty minutes and ordered him to go shower if he was going to sleep next to her. He winced in the mirror at the sight of his chest, bright purple bruise blooming across his sternum, heart shot if the vest wasn’t there, head shot if Ayla hadn’t fought. Letting the hot water ease the night from him he suddenly felt extremely tired, like his entire body had decided to switch off. He dried off and slipped on some sweats and a shirt, and curled up with Ayla. Mia had given her oxygen, the heart monitors silently telling him she was still alive as the steady beat spiked the line on the machine in a continuous motion. “Sweet girl.” He murmured. “Come back to me.” His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist, the tender skin still pink from the manacles. He let the emotion come, the adrenaline crash, the tears, all of it. Let it consume him in one swift gulp, the grief of losing Sarah, Ayla laying here hurt, sleep took him under a few hours later from pure exhaustion.

******

He slept for what had felt like a month, went to bed and it was dark, woke up and it was dark. The soft glow of the moon streamed through the open window, her face peaceful as she lay there. Kissing her cheek tenderly he rolled off the bed and headed for a shower and food, Mia was still asleep in the armchair in the corner.

Once dressed and fueled he sat with Jerry at the computers. “She still out?” Hunt asked.

“Yeah, it’ll be a few days, maybe longer.”

“You ok? How’s the ribs?”

“No I’m not. Sternum, and fucking sore.” He winced as he moved.

“Vest is better than dead.”

“Yeah but it doesn’t fucking tickle.” He pulled up his shirt and Jerry whistled through his teeth.

“Damn boss, you got fucking lucky. Center mass.”

“Yeah, lucky it didn’t stop my heart, lucky Ayla fought back.” He breathed. “That would have ended me.”

“She’ll be ok.” Jerry nodded.

“I’m hoping kid.” He looked at the new searches running. “Whats all this?”

“More bad guys. Using Winters blood I was able to get into the section on Ayla’s laptop and access his financials. All the legit names and addresses of every girl stolen and sold, kidnapped and murdered. I got with Davis and Wainwright to pull in a few more teams. They’re all out on the hunt.”

“A section even Ayla couldn’t access?”

“Nope, she needed his DNA to unlock it, that’s why she was adamant she go with you.”

“If only she’d found her voice sooner we could have planned it differently.” Strand murmured.

“It couldn’t have been easy for her boss.”

“I’m not pointing fingers, I just wished it had gone differently and she didn’t end up injured.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and scalp. “I just wish I hadn’t had to put her in harms way.”

“You didn’t. She chose.”

******

The days rolled on slowly, each hour dragging by, he was desperate for her to open her eyes. The longer she was out the worse it was. He helped Mia bathe and feed her, anything to keep her body in shape to fight her way back to him.

He’d curled her in close as he read to her, the sun just slipping below the horizon when her whimper interrupted him. “You’re ok sweet girl.” His heart leapt, that was something. “You’re safe.” He kissed her head and lingered, willing her to wake. “Come back to me Ayla.” Her hand struck out and hit his chest, right over the bruise. He grunted and sucked in a breath as it smarted like nothing else he’d felt before it. “I’m here.” He murmured, her hand fisting in his shirt as she whimpered again. “Open you’re eyes sweet girl.” His fingers brushed her cheek and she flinched.

“Probably reliving it.” Mia said from the doorway. “It’s a good sign though.”

Placing the book on the nightstand he soothed her, trying to coax her back to the surface. She fought him, determined to come out swinging and he held her gently. “Open your eyes sweet girl, you’re safe with me remember, you’re safe. Look at me.” Still fighting, her eyes snapped open, unfocused, but open. “You’re ok Ayla, look at me.” It took a few moments for her to get her bearing but her breathing calmed as she found him looking back. “There you are.” He smiled. “There’s my sweet girl.” Her fingers brushed his scruff and she settled, muscles relaxing. “

“Karl.” She croaked, her voice no more than a hoarse whisper.

“That’s me.” He leaned his forehead against hers, a soft sigh of relief she was ok. “You saved me.” He whispered, her fingers trailing over his lips. “You saved me in so many ways and I thought I’d lost you before I had the chance to...” He choked on that emotion, the love for her swelled inside him, bursting to get out. A love he never knew he had for her, for anyone.

He pulled his head back and looked at her, studied every inch on her face, sea green looked back. Dipping his head down he did something he’d never done before, he kissed her, he initiated it, he chose her. “I love you.” He murmured, his fingers gently toying with her hair.

“I love you too.”

******

Their lives changed over the following year. Jerry and his sister decided to hang around, Jerry staying to pursue Mia, Eva learning to be around people and getting comfortable with life. Mia enjoying their company and Jerry’s slow seduction. The four of them made a good team as they continued to track down the remaining girls, locking up the assholes that purchased them along the way.

Ayla would never be free out in the real world, there were those that still hunted her. Even though Strand and the team had shipped most of the filth to Hades 6 and a few to Hera 4 when they cracked the syndicate running a similar auction for boys, she was still a target of opportunity, and he’d promised to keep her safe, a promise he had every intention of keeping. But she was happy here, helping, working alongside them, being with him, and she’d found that softer side of him he never knew existed.

His mind chewed over where his life was heading one night as they sat outside watching the stars. He was never one to be tamed, to settle down, and over the past few months he’d felt that pull to roam again. Irritable, like a caged animal wanting to break free. A need to be in the thick of the action, not sitting behind a screen watching it unfold, directing traffic. The problem was he wasn’t sure what he wanted. He wanted to roam, to pick up his Glock and kick some ass, he also wanted Ayla, to be with her, to work at the relationship that was blossoming between them. Problem was he couldn’t have both, because he couldn’t take her with him into the fray again, and he didn’t want to leave her.

******

“Are you happy here Karl?” Ayla asked as they curled up in bed one night, the moonlight streaming through the open drapes. She’d sensed his unease over the past few weeks, the soothing touches when he caught himself clenching his jaw, keeping his irritation in check. “With me?” Her voice was quiet, those fingers wandering over every contour of his chest.

“Of course.” He said without hesitation and she looked up at him. “I’m just not the settling down type and it’s taking some, adjusting.” He chuckled. It was the truth, he was struggling to stay here when he felt the need to be out in the field, taking down the bad guys instead of sitting on the sidelines. Her kiss was tender, understanding.

“I don’t want you to stay here for me, because of me.” Ayla said quietly. “You saved me Karl, but at what cost to yourself? You gave me the choice to be who I wanted to be, a chance to heal and I don’t want it to be the reason you stay. The reason you’re unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy sweet girl.” He said softly and kissed her tenderly. “It’s just a big adjustment to be working out of the field.”

“Would it help to go back? Do what you’re meant to do?”

How did he tell her yes, when it would hurt her? When it would pull him away from her, the one stabilizing force in her life? “I don’t know.”

“I love you Karl, that won’t change if you go back to doing what you did before me.” Her smile made that warmth bloom in his soul.

“Thing is I’m not sure I want that now.” He huffed. “I like what we do here I’m just... I’m a roamer Ayla, I like being on the move.”

“Then go be on the move.” She said and her smile eased his mind a little.

“I can’t keep you safe outside of here.” He murmured. “I won’t be able to take you with me. I can’t put you in that sort of danger again.” His voice choked as his finger brushed against the scar at her temple. The bullet that would have claimed his life had she not fought for him. “I can’t watch you go down, step in front of a bullet for me.”

“I’m not coming with you.” She said softly shaking her head. Her kiss was tender, that brush of her lips sending a jolt to his system. “I know that people are still out looking for me, I’m safe here, I feel safe here. I’m happy, I feel like I belong. I like working with Jerry and Mia, you...” She kissed him again. “But I’m better off here, sitting behind a computer, hacking and being helpful. It’s my choice to stay here.” She kissed him sweetly and studied him for a moment before continuing. “You’ve given me so much, the freedom to choose what I want and I want to stay here, work, heal, do something good.”

“You saved my life Ayla.” He whispered. “I can’t just walk away from that.”

“And you think you owe me?” She kissed him before he could reply. “You don’t owe me anything Karl, and if we were keeping score I’d say I still owe you a few.” She smirked, his huffed chuckle making that beautiful smile spread across her face.

“You owe me nothing sweet girl.” His tone husky as he threaded his fingers in her hair and kissed her, tongue teasing hers.

“In that case, same goes.” Her voice breathless. “No more keeping score, we saved each other, let it be done.”

“If I go, I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He choked.

“I love you Karl, but I don’t want to be the reason you’re shackled to someone or something that’s not who you are.” Her fingers toyed with his scruff, those gentle strokes that calmed him, aroused him. “I care about you and I see that you’re not happy here full time.”

His mouth devoured hers, the relief flowing from him. He loved her, but he was going fucking crazy staying here. “Can I come back to you?” He asked quietly. “I’d like to be able to come back to you, be with you. I want to try and have a relationship with you, or whatever this between us is. I think it’s something special, ours, just ours. Even though I suck at them.” He chuckled. “I don’t want to lose you Ayla.”

“I’ll be right here, and we can work it out together.” Her kiss was sweet. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

“Sometimes I feel as though I pulled you out of that concrete prison and placed you in another more upscale one.”

“You’re not shackling me here. It’s my choice to stay, or to leave if I wish.” She murmured. “I’m free Karl, you set me free.”

“Always your choice sweet girl.” His knuckles grazed her cheek tenderly before he devoured her mouth, hand cupping her head before raking down her body to feel those luscious curves.

“We’ll make it work, our own way.” Her breath hitched as he palmed her breast, thumb brushing her hardened nipple.

“I don’t deserve you.” He wanted to try, to live a life with her in it, a part of it.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden

#Karl Strand fanfic #a softer side #gustaf skarsgard #sexy as fuck

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iamnotoriginalphil · 5 years ago

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Family Matters (Zelda Spellman x Reader) - Part 13

Synopsis: Zelda tries to get to the bottom of your involvement with Bella.

Words: 1150

Warnings: none

AN: I now haven’t seen anyone but my parents for a week and I think it’s driving me crazy. I miss my friends. But I have plenty of time to write while I avoid them. Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters.

Zelda was in two minds. On the one hand, she should call you out for your lying and betrayal, but on the other you obviously were not doing it willingly. You acted no different around the house, still the same woman who joked with Ambrose and sent her long looks across a room. Now she had to wonder if there was something more beyond those long looks than simple attraction.

She’d tried a scrying spell to locate Bella but was having trouble fixing on a location. All Zelda could say was she definitely wasn’t in Greendale. You, on the other hand, were in her house.

She didn’t want to raise the alarm without being certain about your role in the whole thing. She didn’t want you to know she knew. She didn’t want to raise her concerns with Hilda once again after being brushed off so thoroughly the last time.

You didn’t seem like you wanted to be working with Bella. That was the point that stuck in her mind.

She’d noticed that you carried around her copy of Dante’s Inferno with you through the house. She couldn’t understand why. It was hardly the most precious book in the house, and it certainly wasn’t the best copy of the book she owned. You kept it close to you when not in your room. It sent an odd spark in her heart each time she saw it.

It came to a head three days after she followed you into the woods. You were curled up on the sofa, the book in your lap, your lips mouthing the words as you read. You didn’t even glance up as Zelda entered the room, making her a little disappointed. She could admit to herself in the privacy of her own mind that she enjoyed when you looked at her. Your wide eyes always made her skin warm.

Zelda settled herself in the arm chair, lighting up a cigarette. She took the moment to watch you. Your tongue tapped your top lip as you moved the book closer to look at what she assumed was one of the plates in the book. She dragged her eyes away from you, ignoring the heat building in her stomach. She could think of better uses for that tongue of yours.

“Ambrose told me something interesting the other day,” she said.

You started, your eyes darting up to her. She drew great pleasure in the way your mouth fell open. Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips. Zelda could feel herself smirking.

“He said that you have a younger brother,” she said, “which suggests you have a family.”

“So?” you asked, your body tensing.

“Well, I’m simply curious as to why you are unable to live with them. Surely there is no need for you to rely on the kindness of strangers,” she said.

“That’s not an option,” you said.

“And why might that be?” she asked, leaning forward towards you.

“They’re not in a position to have me,” you said, “and I wouldn’t want them to.”

“You don’t want to stay with your family?”

“I would be with my family if I could but I have reached a point in my life where that is no longer possible. I won’t do anything to put Finn in danger and my parents would agree my being there is less than ideal,” you said.

“And why is that?” she asked, “what danger could you bring?”

“A lifestyle they don’t want near my brother,” you snapped.

She considered you for a while, her head cocked to one side. You were growing red under her watchful gaze and she was certain it wasn’t a blush. She lent back in her seat, taking a drag on her cigarette. Your fingers were clutching at the book, your knuckles growing white.

“So you understand the importance of familial loyalty,” she said, “and as such you can understand my hesitancy in letting you into my home.”

“I never argued with your hesitancy,” you said.

“The amount of trust I’ve placed in you by allowing you to sleep here is immense.”

She watched your throat bob as you swallowed.

“I should not wish to find I’ve placed my trust in the wrong person,” she said.

You slammed your book closed, almost snapping your finger in the heavy paper. You stood, the blanket falling to the carpet. You bit down on your lower lip, once again sending heat through Zelda as her eyes were drawn to your mouth.

“I need another cup of tea,” you said.

Zelda gave you a few minutes alone in the kitchen to recompose yourself. You weren’t a brilliant liar, and it was obvious there was something you weren’t telling her. You didn’t know she knew what it was. She did feel she was coming closer to finding out why you were doing what you were doing.

“Is there enough for two?” she asked, walking into the kitchen.

You yelped, whirling around, one hand clutched to your chest. She smirked, walking towards you, swaying your hips. You pressed back against the counter, your tongue coming out to swipe along your lower lip. She inhaled, sure you were doing it on purpose now.

“Of course.”

Your fingers brushed against hers as you passed her a mug of tea. You avoided making eye contact with her, choosing to focus on your own cup, looking down in to the dark liquid, turning away from her. Zelda gently blew on hers, watching the steam swirl towards you.

“What if your family came for a visit here?” she asked.

You froze, refusing to turn around.

“I thought we’d finished talking about this,” you said.

“I want you to feel welcome here,” she said, “if your family visiting will help with that then they should come visit.”

“That’s not happening,” you said.

“And why not?” she asked, stepping closer.

“Not only do they not live nearby but they wouldn’t be able to come here even if I wanted them to,” you said.

“And why is that?”

You turned, smacking into her. Zelda dropped her mug as she caught your shoulders, stopping you from falling backwards. You looked up at her, with your wide eyes, your lips pursing.

“Why the sudden interest in my family?” you asked.

“I care about your happiness.”

Zelda tucked some hair behind your ear. Your brow wrinkled but colour bloomed high on your cheeks. You pulled away from her, grabbing your mug off the counter. You stepped over the puddle of tea and smashed mug on the floor.

“My family won’t be visiting,” you said, “and I’d rather not talk about them anymore.”

Zelda watched you go. She heard you rush up the stairs, your footsteps loud in the vacuum of your silence. She looked down at the smashed mug, sighing in frustration. Sitting next to the teapot was the copy of Dante’s Inferno she’d given you.

Tags: @theenglishwizard @eyesofanangeltongueofadevil @hallospaceboyy @alexusonfire @justkeepbreathingnow @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @witching-imagines @praisezeldaspellman @escapetodreamworld @panicnymph @anxiousgoldengirl @theprassebox @witchessticktogether @pizzapyjamas @plooffairy @whos-to-know @spicyrice20 @fallenangelmuse @whos-to-know @step-intoyour-power

#Zelda Spellman #zelda spellman imagine #zelda spellman x reader #caos #caos imagine #family matters

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lonelypond · 4 years ago

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Parent Trap, Chapter The First

NicoMaki, Love Live/Love Live Sunshine, 6k, 1/2

Summary: Dr. Nishikino Maki is a single mother, not in search of anything besides a few quiet moments. Yazawa Nico is a singer on the rise who did a favor for an old friend. Are they more connected than they realize?

Parent Trap, Chapter The First

Yazawa Nico was due at the airport at too early an hour. But Ayase Eli was too old a friend not to make time for. So when they were at lunch and Nico had cooed over the latest twin pictures, Eli had asked if Nico wanted children. Of course, Nico wanted children, but the life of the next JLO didn’t really leave any time for that. And then Eli had explained how she could bank some of Nico’s genetic material at her lab. And if Nico didn’t mind, it might help Eli with a project she’d been working on with a colleague.

It had taken about a month, with screening tests and two weeks on hormones before Nico could physically donate eggs. The retrieval procedure had taken less than a half an hour, and Nico had stopped into Eli’s office after hours a week later for an ultrasound and check up.

“Did you double check all your paperwork?” Eli asked as she put away the ultrasound equipment.

Nico pulled her sweatshirt down. She didn’t dress up for top secret doctor visits. She had sunglasses and a long coat for when she stepped out of Eli’s office. “Yeah, Nico read through it twice. So no one makes a baby with Nico without Nico’s permission right?”

“Right.” Eli’s reply was quick.

Nico had confidence in Eli, who had always been an honor student and someone with exact and precise ethical behavior. “Good.” Nico bounced up, “It’s nice to know Nico’s got a backup for the biological clock.”

Eli smiled, “Thanks for helping. The more chance I have to work with different cells, the more likely we are to eventually succeed.”

“Nico is a hero.”

“Nico is a good friend.”

“Eli!” Tojo Nozomi’s voice called from the hallway outside. “We’re going to be late to pick up Vik and Teddy.”

“I’ll be right there. I just have to finish up with Nico.”

“NICO!” The door slammed open and Nico was engulfed in a huge hug, “You haven’t been by in months. How are ya.”

“Nico can’t breathe. Eli, help.” Nico squeaked.

“Nozomi, put Nico down.”

Nozomi did, but then kept hold of Nico’s shoulder, her green eyes concerned, “Are you all right, is something wrong, is that why…”

Nico waved a hand, “Just a pre tour checkup. My regular doctor couldn’t fit me in. Eli did me a favor.”

“Eli is the best.”

“Yeah, Nico, anytime you need a quick checkup.” Eli’s voice wavered. Nozomi turned her attention to her wife, the terrible liar.

“Nico has to run.” Nico put her sunglasses on with a grand gesture, even though it was dark outside. Nico would always Nico. Nozomi was glad to see it.

“We’ll see you out, I’ll just leave the paperwork at the desk for my assistant to enter into the system tomorrow.” Eli held the door open.

They walked out, Eli dropping the folder in the inbox. Nozomi respected Eli’s commitment to having paper copies of everything. She’d been the most organized student council president ever and that had followed through to everything she did.

“Oh no.” Nozomi cried out.

Eli spun instantly, “Nontan?”

Nozomi flicked her own forehead, “I was so excited to see Nico-chi, I left my purse in the exam room. I’ll be right back. Just wait for me at the car.” She kissed Eli on the cheek.

“Okay.” Eli put an arm around Nico’s shoulders, “Sure I can’t convince you to have dinner with us and the twins. They miss you.”

“Next time Nico’s in town, I lost a packing day because Cocoa had a car crisis.”

“You really have to make time, Nico. We miss you.”

Their voices faded down the hall. Nozomi nodded and stepped to the desk, putting her purse out from behind her back to set next to the in tray. There was no name on the folder Eli had put down, just a number. Nozomi made a quick note of it as she opened to read. Nico and Eli were up to something and Nozomi had never been able to let that pass without “helping”. Seeing Nico’s first answer, a quick check….hmmm, Nozomi had a feeling that Nico’s status might change for the better with a different answer. And Eli always did the initial paperwork in pencil, that made some things easier.

Four Plus Years Later

Dr. Nishikino Maki was drowsy. Single parenting was exhausting. Even with a nanny and her parents’s help, the past year with Dia had been exhausting. Which is why her parents had shoved her out the door to go to the Ayase New Year’s Eve party. Which was loud, and bustling. Eli’s mom was babysitting the twins and Eli’s wife, Nozomi, was taking the opportunity to loudly announce as many details of every attendee’s life as she could.

“MAKI!” Nozomi swirled up, in a very pretty soft gray wrap dress, “It’s been too long.” Nozomi would have gone for a hug, but Maki had predicted her action and sidestepped. “How’s your little girl?”

“Sleeping, I hope.”

Nozomi tilted her head, green eyes staring at Maki with an odd look in them. She almost spoke, then shrugged, “Eli will be happy to see you. We have so many friends for you to meet. You haven’t even stopped by the office in 6 months. We got so used to seeing you when you were pregnant.”

Maki decided to change the conversation, “How are the twins?”

“Exhausting.” Nozomi’s laugh drew the attention of her wife, who hurried over.

“Did I miss a joke? Hi, Maki.” Eli slid her arm around Nozomi’s waist, “Nico’s going to sing in a minute.”

“Ooohh, you won’t want to miss this, Maki.”

“What?” Maki’s question was perfunctory. Nozomi’s suggestions were always problematic, one way or another, so Maki tended to armor up when Nozomi was in idea tossing mode.

“Nico Ni.” Eli was gleaming, “We had a band together in high school, then instead of college, she started touring and got signed by a major label right away. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her.”

Maki shrugged, “I don’t listen to contemporary music much.”

“Contemporary.” Nozomi drawled, “Non robots call it pop or punk or rock or country or hip hop or whatever genre you favor.”

“Nozomi, let’s not harass our guest.”

“But Elichi, that’s why I throw parties.”

Eli had her arm through Nozomi’s and was steering her away, She smiled apologetically at Maki, and then the lights dimmed and the sound system kicked in.

“Hello, Chicago, my hometown, Nico Ni here to make your heart throb for this heartthrob.”

Maki glanced at the stage. A tiny woman, long dark hair, neon pink over black the dominant theme of her costume, complete with some kind of sparkly animal ears. She looked like her music was going to be loud. Maki headed for the balcony.

###

Maki had found a bartender who mixed an excellent virgin bloody mary and was nursing her second while waiting for clouds to clear so she could see more constellations. WInter nights were the best, cold and clear.

“You avoiding the crowds too?” Maki heard the question as the door slid open.

“More avoiding the music.”

“Not a Nico Ni fan?”

Maki shrugged, honestly it wouldn’t have made a difference who it was, “It just seemed like it was going to be loud and…”

“Headache?”

“One year old.”

“Oh,” a quick pleasant laugh. “I haven’t had time...or the partner for that. They’re cute at that age.”

Maki shrugged again. Dia was cute, probably above average cute, but that wasn’t really a surprise. Or something Maki could announce like her birthweight or how many words she knew. “No partner.”

“Oh.” A nervous laugh, “Sorry…”

‘No. It’s exactly what I wanted.” Maki knew that should have sounded more convincing. Dia was, as far as her reading and research could attest, an near ideal daughter. Maki’s parents had finally shut up about her producing an heir, Rin and Hanayo’s baby had a playmate, Eli’s research had made it possible to get pregnant without anything gross or sticky involved, and now Maki was back at work and even out socializing. So all good, right? Maki sighed,

“Cookie?” Maki turned. A small, bright, crimson eyed woman in a slouched hat and an oversized coat was leaning next to her, offering what looked like a homemade cookie. Eli and Nozomi had hired caterers.

“You smuggled in food?”

“Only way to be sure there’s always some around.” A smile that stunned Maki with its cheerful incandescence, “Ni...No poison, I swear.”

Maki took the cookie, and an intriguing mix of cinnamon and stranger flavors melted on her tongue. “That’s different. I like it.”

“Chinese five spice and shortbread.”

Maki nodded, chewing happily. Not exactly dip in a virgin bloody mary food, but maybe time for a coffee palate cleanser. Maki glanced at her watch, another hour til midnight. The other woman was still looking at her, expectant.

“Are you a pastry chef?” Maki asked, maybe she could buy another cake for Dia’s birthday. Her parents would want pictures.

The other woman shook her head. “No, cooking is what I do for fun. Yazawa Nico.”

Maki took the offered hand. The grip was strong and surprisingly warm, “Nishinikino Maki.”

“Oh, like the hospital.” A stunning grin, “Eli works there. I used to stop by a lot.”

“You’re a friend of Eli’s?”

“High school.” Another grin, “We were in a band together, It was the worst, and Eli hates all the videos we made, but I found out I loved performing.” Nico swept her hands up, “Nico Nico Ni.”

Nico Ni. That’s what Eli meant. The singer. Who’d asked if Maki...Maki flushed, tensing, “You should cook more.”

“Okay. So not a fan.” Nico continued to gleam, “But once you actually hear Nico’s voice you’ll…”

“Did you come out here to harass me for not listening to your show?”

Nico snorted, “No, Ms. Colder Than The Air, I didn’t think anybody would be out here. Nico came out here to get away from her fans.”

“That worked.” Maki grimaced.

There was silence. Nico turned her attention to the sky. Orion was shining brightly on the horizon.

“Great night for stargazing.” Nico said softly.

“Getting clearer.”

“Yeah.”

“Does the one year old have a name?”

“Dia.”

“Pretty.”

Another shrug. Not a topic Maki was going to pick up. “You can see almost a dozen stars in the Pleiades cluster tonight. That’s rare for this close to the city.”

“Pleiades?”

“Can you find Orion?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the blurry group up and to the right.” Maki pointed.

“Oh yeah, cool.”

More silence, then Nico asked another question.

“You an astronomer?”

“That’d be nice.” Maki glanced to see Nico watching her, “Doctor. Medical doctor. ER doctor.”

“Adrenaline junkie.”

Maki shook her head, “Not really. I just like puzzles.” She almost hesitated, “And people who don’t linger.”

Now the silence was awkward. True as Maki’s statement was for some reason she didn’t know, the other woman seemed much farther away. And then Nico pushed off the railing, “Thanks for the astronomy lesson, Doc. Happy New Year.”

Maki nodded, “Same to you.”

Nico waved and went back to the party, Maki left behind in the now too cold air, mood deflated by the unpredictable encounter.

###

Maki had snuck out. She didn’t really want to miss Dia’s first birthday and the whole thought of a roomful of people kissing at midnight just made her queasy and sad. And Nozomi would, of course, make a big fuss about kissing her too and Maki was honestly just not in the mood. So at 11:55, she was turning the key in the door of the family mansion, and at midnight, she was kissing the only girl in her life on the cheek.

“Happy New Year, Dia. Happy birthday. Let’s have a fun year.”

It was strange for Maki to spend so much time with someone who didn’t talk back much, although Dia was very vocal, making funny little noises and a few words. Maki had been surprised at how much she’d cried the first time Dia reached out her little arms and said “Mama.” She could still feel how much her body had swelled with a new joy.

Dia’s eyes opened. They were a brilliant green, like gems. Maki wondered if the egg donor had eyes that color.

“Hi, Dia. Your Mama came home early for your birthday. I had the best cookie at the party. I wanted to have the baker make you a cake, but your Mama’s not great at talking to pretty people.” Maki sighed, sitting in the recliner next to Dia’s crib, “I hope you’re better with people than I am.”

Maki remembered all the questions Eli had asked her about what she was looking for in a donor. Mostly Maki had wanted healthy, but to give her sole child a chance at a better school and social life than she had, Maki figured she should choose an extrovert who got along well with others. So Eli added that to the parameters, along with athletic and musical, because Maki wanted her daughter to love music like she did. And here we were, three years later, with Test Case #1, the top secret Ayase-Nishikino experiment in two female parents reproducing. One of the parents was just an anonymous donor. Maki had been nervous about the science, but with her best friend Koizumi Hanayo and Hoshizora Rin wanting a child of their own after an adoption that fell through, they all decided to take the risk together. Eli and Nozomi had happily adopted American-Japanese twins, now 6 years old, but they wanted to help women who wanted families and couldn’t or wouldn’t adopt.

Dia made a crying noise, so Maki kept telling her about the party. Rin would say silly things and make faces at Tora, but Maki didn’t see why you couldn’t have mostly normal conversations with small children. Eventually Dia would learn all the words. It wasn’t really something Maki thought much about. Dia was there, so Maki talked to her. And then she’d read Dia her bedtime story. Princess Princess Ever After was a Maki favorite. And Dia would giggle when Maki said “Fine, Prince Butthead here can rescue himself” so that was always fun.

“Yeah, I think your Mama said something wrong,” Maki tossed her hair back, she should have put on pajama pants rather than this form fitting sheath dress but she wanted to kiss Dia at midnight. “She wasn’t a baker. She was a singer. Maybe we can listen to her songs tomorrow when we’re driving to meet Rin and Hanayo and Tora for your birthday party.”

Dia made a pleased noise so Maki decided that was enough of a plan and now it was time for bedtime stories and then getting out of her dress.

###

Maki had brought Dia over for dinner with the Koizumi-Hoshizora. Which meant pizza and a movie most of the time. Well, Hanayo had rice and Rin had ramen and Maki had pizza. Maki wondered what Dia’s favorite food would be. Tora already was showing a preference for things rice, Maki’s chef made an infant friendly rice pudding whenever Tora visited. Although, Hanayo was still glaring at Maki for explaining to Rin the dangers of arsenic in rice. So that was fun.

“So do you know Yazawa Nico?” Maki asked Rin casually as Dia and Tora race crawled around the living room.

“Yeah, Kayo-chin’s a big fan. Why?”

Maki decided not to go into the full story, “Just heard a couple of her songs. Dia seems to like them.”

“We should have a karaoke night.” Rin announced, “Invite Eli and Nozomi and everyone.”

“That might be fun. I don’t have a lot of nights free though.”

“Brunch karaoke.” RIn stated.

“Brunch karaoke?”

“Wouldn’t that make a great band name?”

“Mama?” Dia was pulling herself up on a table.

“What is it, Dia?

Dia motioned feeding herself, “Lunch.”

“Okay, Dia. We’ll see if Hanayo’s ready.”

“C’mon, Tora.” Rin scooped up her daughter and led the quest for her wife.

###

Dia had stacked all her blocks neatly in their bucket and was looking at Maki expectantly.

Maki grinned, “Thank you, Dia. Mama’s proud of how you decided to clean on your own.”

Dia nodded, suddenly shy and Maki laughed and picked up her daughter into a hug, spinning them around the room. “We’re going to fly.”

“MAMA!!!” Dia screamed.

Maki kept spinning and fell back onto the couch, “And that’s how you dance.”

“Dance.” Diane murmured.

“Dance and prance and…”

“Dance.” Dia shouted, standing next to Maki on the couch, bouncing “Dance Dance Dance.”

Maki had a hand out, hovering near her daughter’s waist, ensuring that Dia didn’t pitch forward to the floor. The first time that had happened had terrified Maki more than anything else in her life, even though she’d caught Dia at the last minute.

“C’mon, bun, let’s get you dinner. Then Mama is going out.” Rin had at some point said Dia was as “cute as a bunny” and Maki had turned it into a nickname.

“Pudding!”

“No, Dia, you can’t have pudding for dinner. Pudding is dessert.”

“No, Mama.” Dia glared at Maki, then wrapped her arms around Maki’s neck, “We go now.”

“Okay,” Maki swept up her daughter, “We go now.”

###

A month later, Rin had actually managed to corral most of their friends into a karaoke night. Hanayo had stayed home with Tora to watch a livestream of the stars of an anime in concert. Rin was driving so Maki was going to allow herself a sip or two of sake. She wasn’t sure if she was going to sing, but Rin would probably drag her into at least one duet.

It was a nice place. Sleek, polished wood, black-lit, private rooms with neon, huge couches, lots of space, and attentive but not intrusive waitstaff. It had an Asian influenced menu that Maki appreciated. Sushi was such a good snack for sitting around and watching Rin get sillier and sillier. She and Nozomi were in a battle for who could sing the craziest duet. Sonoda Umi, dojo owner and stunt choreographer, had actually joined them to sing “Say My Name.” Eli had practically stood on one of the table cheering while Umi’s wife, fashion designer Minami Kotori had giggled through the song.

And then the door opened, and two tiny women came in, a tray of drinks between them.

“Nico bought a round and a friend. What are we singing?”

“NICO!” Eli, who was definitely tipsy at this point, jumped down to pick up Nico in a hug, “You came.”

“Nico was in town. And it’s been too long since we’ve sung together.”

“We’re next. Me and Nico! Clear the floor.” Eli announced.

“Give me a minute, Eli. Let me introduce my friend. Everybody, Kira Tsubasa; Kira Tsubasa, everybody!”

“Hey! Can you sing?” Rin asked.

Kira did a double take, while Maki heard Nico whisper too loudly, “See, I told you, they don’t know anything about pop music. We’re good.”

Maki knew Nico hadn’t meant her to hear that and wasn’t specifically talking about her, but she still felt embarrassed and stupid. And then Rin called out her name.

“Maki Maki Maki. You said you’d sing “Telephone” with me.”

Yes, Maki had. But now she didn’t exactly want to. But Rin had made them practice, in front of Tora and Dia and it had been fun. Maybe if Maki didn’t look at anyone.

Rin had her wrist and was pulling her to the stage.

###

Well that was over and Maki had a genuine grin on her face. She hadn’t had the feel of performing for an audience since her last piano recital, too many years ago, and even though it was only karaoke, Maki could feel the group leaning forward on their seats, caught up in the song, laughing, watching, tapping along to the beat. Maki had even felt emboldened enough to catch Nico’s eye and wink before turning to Rin and high fiving at the end.

She slid back into the couch and Nico sat next to her, an unopened bottled sparkling water in hand. “You worked up a sweat.’

“Thanks!” Maki twisted off the cap, enjoying the sharpness of the lime twist flavor.

“Perform often?”

“Not since undergrad.”

“In a band?”

“Concert pianist.”

Nico nodded, sipping on her fruity oversized drink, “So Beyoncé or Gaga?”

Maki tossed her hair out of her eyes, running her fingers through it, feeling the sweat dampening the tips, “Why choose.”

That pleasant, inviting laugh, “Good point. Nico approves.”

Umi’s best friend, Kosaka Honoka, award winning pastry chef and owner of Homura, had the mic and was doing a stunning lowkey version of Miley Cyrus’s “Malibu”. Then Tsubasa jumped up and whispered something to Honoka who said sure and the next thing Maki knew the intro to the Hannah Montana theme song played, which got everybody in the room singing along.

And then Nico put her drink down, “Nico’s turn” and strode confidently to the front of the room, in her oversized black and gray sweatshirt, hood down, and thigh high black, rhinestone studded boots.

“For any Beyoncé fans.” And Nico ripped off a “Crazy In Love”, complete with Jay-Z’s rap verses, dueting with herself, and lighting up the entire room like a Lunar New Year fireworks show finale over Hong Kong Harbor.

Tsubasa raised a toast when Nico finished, “So very Nico to do a love song with yourself.”

“Only the best for Nico.” Nico grabbed a bottled water.

“Is that Fenty Puma?” Kotori asked, reaching forward to stroke the fabric.

“Yeah, saw it on the runway, fell in love, had to have it.”

That’s why it seemed familiar, Maki thought. She had two pieces from that collection, a black jumpsuit and kimono inspired track jacket she’d worn to some NWSL games. She and Rin both had Red Star season tickets, her spare usually taken by Umi or Honoka. She’d be able to take Dia to her first game soon.

“This is so much fun, Maki!” Rin slid in next to Maki, her face glowing. “Kayo-chin’s missing out.”

“I think she’s probably pretty happy with her concert.” Maki countered.

“Yeah,” RIn frowned, “you don’t think she thinks they’re prettier than me.”

“No, Rin.”

“Hmmmm…” Rin murmured doubtfully, leaning back, head forward. Then her phone went off.

Eli and Nozomi were at the mic, much too close to kissing for Maki to pay attention to them.

Rin groaned, bumping Maki’s shoulder. “Tora won’t settle down. I have to go home. Kayo-chin says Tora needs me to tell her a bedtime story.”

And I bet Hanayo wants someone to cuddle, Maki thought to herself.

Rin had already put down her drink and money for a tip when she froze, “But I’m your ride, Maki, what will you do?”

“Don’t worry about it. I can always call a car.”

“Someone need a ride?” Nico slid in on Maki’s other side.

“Yeah, I have to go home but I’m Maki’s ride.”

“If Maki doesn’t mind, Nico can drop her off whenever she’s ready.”

“Haven’t you been drinking?” Maki remembered the fruity drink.

Nico shook her head, “Nah, alcohol’s not really the healthiest and Nico’s got some shows coming up.”

“Maki?”

Maki glanced at Nico, who smiled and shrugged. “Okay.”

“Thanks, Maki.” RIn gave Maki a quick hug, “Say good night to Dia for me.”

“Will do. See you this weekend.”

RIn waved as she ran out the door.

“This weekend?”

“Sunday brunch.”

“Good friends huh?”

“Yeah,” Maki agreed, “We went to high school together.”

“Like me and Eli.”

“I guess.”

“How’d she meet her wife?”

“They’ve been perfect for each other since elementary school.” Maki snorted, “Some days it was a little...daunting, but Rin’s so cheerful.” Maki shrugged, “And here we are, both with one year olds.”

Nico didn’t reply and Maki glanced over. Nico seemed thoughtful, drumming her fingers against her thigh. Then she noticed Maki’s attention and did a hand gesture, “Nico Nico Ni. Want to do a duet?”

“Actually, I want to hear you and Eli.”

Nozomi caught the Eli reference or had been eavesdropping. Maki was pretty sure it was the second. Nozomi liked to know EVERYTHING that went on, whether or not it had any relevance or connection to her.

“Ooohh, Eli-chi, Maki wants to hear you and Nico.”

“Harasho!” Eli was up on the table again, “Bibi rides again. What do we do for the pretty ladies, my friend?”

Nico grabbed the mic and Eli, asking “Shall we keep the Gaga going? “Do What U Want?”

Nozomi took a bunch of singles from her purse, Umi groaned, Honoka giggled.

###

Maki had needed air and a fresh drink after the very physical Nico and Eli duet. She rolled an ice cold bottle of sparkling water against her cheek while waiting for the bartender to come back with Honoka’s beer.

“There you are?” And Nico was next to her, shouting to be heard in the crowd, “No duet huh?”

“Getting a little tired.”

“What?”

“Tired.” Maki shouted back, feeling her mood crash.

“Oh. Nico will give you that ride home, then.”

Maki nodded, and followed Nico back to the room. Honoka had pulled Umi and Kotori into a song, Tsubasa providing percussive accompaniment, and Nozomi was in Eli’s lap. Nico tapped Tsubasa on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear, Tsubasa giving her a thumb’s up and Maki waved goodbye to the group singing.

And then Nico was holding doors open, they were waiting for a valet, who appeared and handed Nico the keys to a sleek, red Porsche Boxter.

“They matched the color to Nico’s favorite lipstick.” Nico announced as she held Maki’s door open.

Maki didn’t know what to say and nodded as she slid into the seat.

“Address?”

“It’s along Lake Shore Drive, north of Evanston.”

“Good. She needs a long ride.”

Maki rolled the window down, her face was feeling hot, and her fingers easily found a twistable strand of hair.

Nico started the car and pulled out into traffic, “So you haven’t shown me any pictures of Dia. Rin showed me about 1000 pictures of Tora. Trying to get away from parenting for a night?”

Maki shrugged, “Babies are babies.”

Nico glanced at Maki. “But yours is the cutest, right?”

“Of course,” Maki relaxed a little. Driving with Lake Michigan on one side and the Chicago skyline on the other always soothed her nerves.

“I know a nice park for a picnic if you liked to bring Dia. Nico could make more of those cookies you had at the New Year’s party.”

“It’s a little cold for a picnic.”

Nico turned on the radio, “Do you mind?”

Maki shook her head.

“Have a favorite station?”

“I love listening to jazz and watching the city lights, especially in the rain.”

“Nico’s got jazz. Rain’ll have to wait for another night.” And Nico started fumbling with the radio dial. Maki reached out, her fingers covering Nico’s for a moment, and she tuned it to her favorite station.

“This is the best.”

“Nico will program it.”

Maki went back to staring out the window, at the darkness of the Lake as they sped up Lake Shore Drive.

“Maki?”

“Hmmmmm…”

“Do you not date?”

Suddenly Maki’s every nerve jangled and only the seatbelt kept her from catapulting forward, “I date...well, not right now, but I’ve dated...just women, but...and Dia’s not...but…” and Maki stalled, out of ideas and things to stumble over saying and mouth opening and closing and gasping for air and hands clenched and why did Rin have to go home early…

“Maki.” Nico’s voice was calm. “I’ve just been trying to ask you out and you don’t seem interested. So I will stop.”

There was silence. And then Maki said ‘Oh.”

“Nozomi told me you were going to be there tonight...and...you seemed really interesting...and Nico just wanted to hang out, maybe talk some. You’re very pretty.”

“Ummm…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”

There was more silence and Nico humming along with the jazz.

“Dia likes cookies.” Maki started softly, her voice gaining confidence.”I told her about yours. She’s got this adorable coat that looks like a duck. A picnic might be fun, It’s not supposed to be too cold tomorrow.”

Nico handed Maki her phone, one hand still on the wheel, “Add yourself to Nico’s contacts and a whole bunch of gourmet, sure to be your daughter’s favorite cookies ever are coming into your life very soon.”

Maki laughed, “We’ll look forward to it.”

Nico sat up as she accelerated, still humming, Maki admiring the sharpness of her profile, Nico’s smile gleaming like a Venus near a crescent moon.

###

Maki’s phone went off as soon as she got inside the house. Text from Rin.

R: You didn’t tell me Nico was famous. Now Kayo-chin’s mad at us.

M: US?

R: US ʕง•ᴥ•ʔง

R: You know she loves A-Rise. And Tsubasa Kira’s their lead singer and she was there too. Kayo-chin’s thinks we’re idiots ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚.

R: Did you get home?

M: Yeah, Nico just dropped me off.

R: Ooohh, Kayo-chin’ll be less mad at us if you get Nico to give you some autigraphed swag or backstage passes

M: Hanayo shouldn’t be mad at you, Rin.

M: And I am not asking Nico that.

R: But she loves A-Rise.

M: Tell her I said to remind her she loves you.

R: It’s not that big a deal.

M: (¬_¬)

Maki shook her head. Rin had too little self esteem too often. She typed off a quick text to Hanayo.

M: We were having fun, not waiting in a fan line for you. Tell Rin you’re not mad.

No reply from either. Maki hoped they were having a conversation that would improve Rin’s mood. They had such a solid history and still hit bumps. Maki had never really made it past casual dating territory. The texts always trailed off and the follow up for a third or fourth date never happened. Maki would run into them at some charity event or the corridor of the hospital and hear muttered excuses about ‘busy.” As she started to frown, entering Dia’s room, her phone pinged again. A new number.

N: Hi, it’s Nico. Are you free tomorrow around 11 a.m.. Nico will pick you and Dia up ٩( ๑^ ꇴ^)۶

Maki closed Dia’s door and leaned against the hall wall, reading.

N: But Nico will need to borrow a car seat.

Maki smiled at the boldness, typing quickly.

M: Your car only has 2 seats. Convertibles are not child friendly.

N: My sister’s SUV is. Trust Nico. I practically raised my three siblings.

M: Did something happen to your parents?

N: My dad died before my brother was born.

M: Sorry.

N: Thanks. My mom coped really well, but Nico had to help out a lot.

Maki was an adult who voluntarily decided to raise a child. Having that responsibility as a teen…

M: Sounds tough.

N: They were good kids. Cocoa’s an elementary school teacher now.

M: What about the other two?

N: Cocoro runs my business and charity foundation, Cotaro just graduated with a degree in Fine Arts. He’s got a residency in Mexico studying sculpture.

N: Isn’t it late for you? ( ु⁎ᴗ_ᴗ⁎)ु.｡oO

M: I don’t sleep.

N: Does Dia?

M: Soundly. The nanny takes care of breakfast.

N: Oh.

M: I have a lot of overnight shifts.

N: That must be tiring.

M: Nah, world is usually quiet when I get home.

N: Quiet can be nice.

M: Yeah.

N: But Nico needs her beauty sleep. I have a date tomorrow.

M: Really?

N: (✿´ ꒳ ` )

M: Good night, Nico. I’ll see you tomorrow.

N: (｀∇´ゞ

Maki put her in her pocket and opened Dia’s door,

“Hi, bun. How was your night?”

Dia was, as she’d told Nico, soundly asleep, so Maki leaned over to kiss her forehead.

“We have a date tomorrow.” Maki whispered, surprised to hear it out loud.

She settled in the chair next to Dia’s crib. It was her favorite place to think. Would Dia like Nico? Maki liked Nico, would Dia be able to tell? Dia would get fussy when Maki was nervous so Maki was convinced that babies were occasionally portable extensions of parental emotions, like speakers. Maki closed her eyes, remembering Nico and Eli, mostly Nico, dancing around each other and the open part of the room, movements sure and sensual, so much good cheer in the glances and quick bumps they’d exchanged before they spun out to interact with everyone else in the room. And there was Nico prancing toward her, no attention for anything else in the room. It was a good memory.

###

Eli was sprawled across Nozomi, her blonde hair everywhere.They hadn’t had a night out together with friends and the twins away since before the holidays started. And Nico’s arrival had put Eli in a playful mood, one Nozomi was more than willing to indulge. Nozomi sat up, not disturbing Eli that much. Nico had also been in one of the least grumpy moods Nozomi had ever seen her out of public view, just enjoying the evening and the company, specifically Maki’s company. Nico was hot for a MILF. Nozomi giggled at the phrase. Nico would strangle her if she’d heard it. But of course, Nico wouldn’t be less interested because Maki had a child. Nico was the most family oriented person Nozomi had ever met. That was one of the strongest bonds between Nico and Eli, a joint understanding of how to be the best big sister. It was so cute. Nozomi couldn’t help leaning down to kiss Eli, who woke like Sleeping Beauty.

“Nontan?” Such long, delicate eyelashes.

“Just thinking how cute you and Nico were tonight.”

“Cute?” Eli’s eyebrow arched.

“Sexty cute.”

“Mmmm...better, but I’m sextier.” Eli nuzzled into Nozomi’s bosom.

“So much sextier…” Nozomi hugged her wife, “But isn’t it great how Nico and Maki hit it off.”

Nozomi could feel Eli shrug.

Nozomi continued. “Neither of them takes enough time for themselves.”

Since Nozomi was going to talk and not cuddle, Eli flopped on her back, staring at the ceiling. “So they probably won’t have time to date so you won’t have another couple’s romance to meddle in.”

“They look good together.”

“Okay. What’s the tl;dr?” Eli sighed, “I love Nico but I don’t want to discuss her in our bedroom. She’s got her own bed.”

“Sometimes Fate needs a push, especially if people are too busy to notice signs.” Nozomi seemed to be carrying on a conversation with herself, not altering its script whatever Eli replied.

“What signs?” Exasperated, Eli sat up, “What are you talking about, love?”

Nozomi shrugged, the roll of her bosom distracting Eli, “Nico wants a family, Maki has a family, maybe…” Nozomi giggled. It was a very specific giggle, one that Eli had learned to dread, because it meant Nozomi had “helped” Fate along somehow. And when Nico was involved, that usually meant that Eli was going to be shouted at in angry midget.

“What did you do?” Eli wrapped the sheet around herself.

Nozomi yawned dramatically, shaking her head, then lying down, head on pillow, turned away from Eli.

“I’ll find out, you know.”

A snore, totally faked.

“Zhizn’ ebet meya.” Eli muttered. Where would Nozomi have been able to give anything a push? Eli got out of bed, traded the sheet for Nozomi’s robe, and headed to the kitchen. She was going to need some tea.

A/N: Hi! I was in the mood for a Single Parent AU so here you are.

#NicoMaki #Love Live #Baby Dia #Hoshizora Rin #Ayase Eli #Tojo Nozomi #Science baby #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #single parent #fanfiction #AU #Parent Trap

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lyorofthequill · 4 years ago

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Death’s ribbon dance.

Dejah walked through the town. He was going to meet Carine and Tenebrous about a recent... Occurrence with him. He looked down at it again, he was walking away from whoever it was. He felt sick about it. He always did. He chuckled as waved to the Craver demon of violets, he was with his daughter, the Craver demon of the lily flower. He was one of the more respectable reapers. He worked close with Thanatos and Hades. He even had an apprentice in the small daughter of the Craver demon of spirits, the daughter was named Azrail Freyja. For a man like him, for any Craver demon like him to take an apprentice was unheard of. Some saw it as a sign that you had accepted that one day you'll die, that you wouldn't fight back against it, others saw it as dangerous.

Many apprentices killed their masters. Apprentices were only for Craver demons who lived rougher, they said, he was not so sure about that. He would prove that Craver demons did not need to fear the next generation, instead they needed to talk and teach them to take up the handle of Craver demons. He walked to the Alpha's domain. A wonderful little home. A cottage, almost, that stuck out of a small cave. A waterfall beside it, there Tenebrous and Celestia stood talking. They bowed to him as he came. ''Come, inside. With the others.''Tenebrous led them inside, N, Garde, Carine, Hecate and Serpentes. Ah, all the most important Craver demons had come to speak about this. He chuckled as he wiped dust off his jacket. He was wearing a classical outfit, something that would have been worn by American politicians in the later years after a revolution. His jacket was a dark purple and his trousers and boots were different shades of black. He had dark-ish, ash skin with silver hair and wonderful grey eyes with pink pupils. He had skeleton wings, not attatched to his body.

His black leather gloves kept his hands warm, he slipped off his jacket. He had a grey button up shirt underneath. He hung the jacket behind his chair.

''Well, I never expected a party when I came in? Is this all for me?''He chuckled as he sat down. Tenebrous's wife, Desiderare. Later her name would become the origin word for the word, 'Desire'. She was the Craver demon of lust and of course, desire.

'She was a loving woman, what she desired was a warm bed and a roof over her head. She desired ones to call her kin and to call someone her kin. She desired warmth and all things that was her right. She desired for people to be fair to each other. She desired simple things of life, such as a glass of milk with some cookies beside the fire. She desired to learn more, a curious spirit she was. What she lusted for was a lover, a child and a home. She lusted for the power of having some land and the little power that came with it. She lusted for the ideals of the people to become the truth. She had a lust for everything sweet and savory.'

A small excerpt from a paper that he and Manfos wrote after her sad passing later in years. Tenebrous smiled as when she poured his wine, he clasped her free hand and placed a kiss on it. He whispered something to her as he placed a hand on the one he held close. Both his hands over hers. As she smiled and nodded at what he spoke. She had wonderful pale, virgin snow hair and dark skin. She had been from the Craver Demon tribes in Africa, much human and Craver demon cross-breeding had happened in those tribes. They did not share the thought that they were equal with the Gods as their Asian and European brothers and sister did. Dejah respected their views and shared them. That Craver demons were another creature of Gaia, not above, nor below any of the others. She had mortal blood in her, some said that’s why Tenebrous first fell for her. As a human falls in love with their puppy-dog. If those rumors ever reached the Alpha's ears, Dejah was sure that that 'puppy-dog' would turn in to that black shuck that will tear them limb for limb.

She smiled and ruffled Tenebrous's hair and then walked away. Mostly likely to prepare the meeting of Public Servants and to take care of her and his daughter, Acra. Carine was the only one without wine as Dejah sipped at his. Ah, only the best wine. Vinum, the Craver demon assistant to Dionysus, for obvious reasons. It came from their vineyards. The best red wine, any of them had. It would later be missed by all.

''Actually, Dejah. We came here to speak about Celestia's claims about a place called... Elkar? Its been decided that it is non-sense.'' Serpentes spoke up, he bowed his head as Celestia eyed him. Dejah nodded at this, ''Right. And now my problem?'' ''Yes, your red-ribbon problem.''Hecate spoke up, she was leaning back in her seat. They all nodded, there were some seats missing. Yet they weren't needed for this. No, this was a matter for some more emotional people. Which was this, bar Hecate. But Dejah supposed that she was here for Celestia's problem, not his.

Carine smiled, Dejah knew that she was happy for him. Yet a Craver demon that was not born, that manifested, as he did. It was strange that he had one. It mean't that his soulmate had been either born or manifested, and he was excited to meet them.

''I believe that you have a forgathered us, to speak about this recent occurance,''Serpentes looked down at his notes, ''Because you wish to abandon your duties for a short time and find this soulmate?'' Dejah nodded. He was asking for something that came at a heavy cost. He took another sip at his wine, it calmed his nerves. He sighed and closed his eyes. Serpentes turned to Tenebrous and the other Craver demons. ''Sir, I shall be the one to say it. It will not be easy. There are no other Reaper, Craver demons. The gods need someone to help them.''Serpentes sighed, turning to Tenebrous.

Hecate cleared her throat as she raised her hand, ''Sir Tenebrous? Do you know how many people die a day?'' He turned to her before nodding, ''Quite.'' She turned to Dejah and then Serpentes and Tenebrous.

''I'd like to point out. That Dejah's apprentice does have time bending magic. So, she can slow time and maybe even do a better job then Dejah.''She pointed out. Tenebrous sat back as Serpentes laughed. ''She is training, an Apprentice.''He tried to reason. Hecate paused, ''So? She is the demon of Seimancy. She is more intact with spirits then a demon of Necromancy does.'' She willingly pointed out. Carine nodded.

‘’' believe that he should go. To find the person he is fated to love.'' Garde lifted his hand as he added, ''Its the right of every man, orc, elf, dwarf, Leo Capra and demon to find love. Why should we deny it to him?'' An agruement started, about ones duty against ones destiny. Dejah lowered his head as he listened. He took a large swig of his wine. Finally a bark came from Tenebrous as he growled like a hound. They all shut up as Dejah lifted his head.

''Dejah, do you have absolute faith in your Apprentice?''Tenebrous leaned forward, resting both forearms on the table. His wife stepped out of the back and placed a hand on Tenebrous's back. She sighed as leaned in close to his ear.

They could all see his anger in his eyes, shadows were about to destroy everything. She was singing a lullaby in to his ear, a soft one that the others could barely hear it. She was massaging his shoulders, rocking him back and fourth, ever so gently. The rest all sat there, backs straight, chests tight. They dare not look away from this act. Finally she kissed him on the neck and it was complete. He turned to her, he gripped her hair. Celestia who was a little less aware of the two, froze at this. Unsure if he was to slam her head down in to the desk or something else. Instead, he gently led her head down and kissed her. It was deep and loving. Finally the grip on her went loose, his anger was no more. Finally they pulled away.

''Love you Desiderare.''

''I know, I love you too. My king~''She purred back as she kissed his forehead and walked back to the back. They could hear the daughter giggle as her mother returned. Tenebrous turned to Dejah. He cleared his throat.

''Indeed, Azrail is capable. I will put my life on it.''He spoke it loud and clear, Tenebrous nodded, ''And it shall be if she fails. I wish you look, may the stars bless you Dejah.''

With that Tenebrous stood and left. The others copied, Celestia patted Dejah on the back. She froze as he grabbed her wrist, he looked up at her.

''Celestia? This Elkar business. I wish to hear more about when I find my love, Even take me there if you may.'' He chuckled, he was truthful. Another world sounded like a fairy tale. Yet he wanted to believe. She smiled with joy. ''And they shall welcome you with open arms.’’

With that Dejah was alone. He sighed as he stood. How idiotic was he, he was a demon of death. No, he was death. And death was now searching for love and was putting his life on the line. Hoping a young girl would save him from this. He knew he could be gone for years, but he was ready. Perhaps to even pay the price of if Azrail failed.He swung his jacket over his shoulders. He looked at the moon. Dawn would approach at any moment. He would pack and head out on the first ray of Ra's return to this realm.

#Original story #original character #original demon character #my own fic #original fiction #original fic #fantasy

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stunudo · 7 years ago

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BAU Prep School AU

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Spring Fever

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country.

Special shot out to @spencereid for the Elle gif. Kate makes amazing gifs and gifsets and deserves all the credit for her work.

March 20, 2017 7:02am

Ashley Seaver had been doing this job a long time, long enough not to bat an eye when an email from the Board of Regents comes through requesting the staff get a physical copy in their mailboxes as well as an official email. Dr. Reid really did need it in writing as he never set up his FBI email account, which amused the older blonde woman equally as it annoyed her. She didn’t even read the memo until she had printed precisely the amount of copies needed and sorted them into the clearly labeled trays along the wall.

To the Staff and Faculty of Frederick Buchanan Institute:

It has come to our attention that the personal interests of the faculty may have fallen against the clear moral code of ethics expected of the employees of our fine institution. To maintain the exemplar standards and ensure the impact of off grounds decisions are not hindering abilities to provide world class education and insight to our impressionable students, we beseech you to review the personnel manual that has been provided. If further concerns are brought to light, greater repercussions with be doled out accordingly.

Sincerely,

The Board of Regents 2016-2017

Erin Strauss

Mateo Cruz

Maxwell Ryan

‘Huh’, Ms. Seaver thought as she made her way back to her desk. The shuffling of heels and a cheery, “Morning, how’s my Seaver Savior doing?!” signaled Penelope had arrived for the day. The women made small talk as Penelope checked her mailbox, her attention drifting away from tales of the secratary’s puppy problems to the short, but intense memo in her hands.

“Whoa, mama.” Penelope muttered, shocked.

“Penelope? Everything alright?” Ashley asked. “Oh, yeah, Regents are still up in somebody’s business, even after Jason. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah, I mean, no.” Penelope said defiantly. “Well, I, uh, better scoot. Ciao!”

Penelope scampered out into the corridor leading towards her office, her fingers fidgeting with the keypad on her phone.

12:32pm

“There’s my girl!” Derek crooned slinking into Penelope’s office during her lunch.

“What? How? How are you okay right now?!” Penelope gaped at her boyfriend. She nearly ran to the door, ensuring it was open. “Better leave that open, thank you very much.”

“Pen? What’s going on?” Derek held back from snaking his arms around her, playing with her fingers instead. “You said we needed to talk this morning, call me crazy but I thought you wanted to see me.”

Penelope slammed a piece of paper into his chiseled chest, “This is what is going on, Mister Muscles. Muscles that I cannot be touching whilst at work.” She bit her lips, hands raised in surrender.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Derek rubbed his head as he read the memo. “Did everybody get this?”

“Yeah, Ashley got the email just this morning. I may have checked her inbox. But, it doesn’t say in so many words. But, we got caught, Derek.”

“This could be anything, Penelope.” Derek put the sheet down. “Maybe Reid got a speeding ticket, or Emily told off a soccer mom, we can’t be sure until we cover our bases.”

“Exactly. Which means,” Penelope inhaled, flinching. “We have to break up, but not like, really, just for here.”

“You’re fake breaking up with me?” Derek’s eyebrows nearly jumped off his face.

“Baby, we’ve got to. We both love our jobs, in fact, that’s one of the things I love most about you is how much you love your team and the other kids.”

“But, come on. Really?”

“Just for now, until we know we are in the clear.” Penelope placated.

“You’re lucky you’re gorgeous and I love you. I wouldn’t pretend to break up with just anyone, you know.”

“I know, that’s why when we are in the safe and in the clear, Mama is going to make it up to you.” Penelope’s grin curled and flat lined in an instant. “But, uh, not now, or here.”

“Right.” Derek smirked, shaking his head. “Well, alright then. Mssssss Garcia. You have a nice, professional day.”

“You too, Der- Coach.” She nodded in closing.

March 21 11:27am

“JJ?” Dave had ducked his head inside the break room before the soccer coach could head into cafeteria duty. “Can I grab you a minute?”

She glanced back at the now empty table, ensuring her place was cleared. It was, for the most part. “What’s up, Chef?”

“I just needed an extra pair of hands.” He held the door to the kitchen open and she slid inside. The old chef working quickly, letting the athletic blonde pick up on the small sorting and traying of the students’ meals. They worked in comfortable silence and were free from the daunting line of hungry teenagers soon enough.

“Thanks, JJ” Dave smiled as she sneaked a green onion from one of the prep tables. “I see your appetite has come back. That’s good, I was beginning to take this thinning face, personally.”

JJ crunched down on the vegetable earnestly clearing her mouth in order to answer him. “Dave, come now, you know if I could I would have been in here everyday stealing something.”

“So everything is okay, with?” Dave patted his own belly.

JJ sighed and nodded. “Yep, doctor says everything is good. Now that I am in my second trimester, the queasiness has backed off.” Her hand instinctively rested on her barely bump.

“When are you due?”

“September 19. Which means needing a coach and a long time sub come fall semester.”

“Hotch know?”

“I’m guessing somebody told him. Did you know that having an unwed mother on staff is considered a breach of our code of ethics?”

“He didn’t say that?” Dave’s voice shortened in alarm.

“No, but something is pushing the Board’s buttons.”

“Don’t worry about them. You take care of the two of you.” Dave smiled, patting JJ on the back as they headed their separate ways.

Mach 22 3:42pm

“Come in,” Hotch said evenly at the knock on his door. “Ms. Prentiss? Hello, stopping by to get the previous minutes for the next Booster Club meeting?” The confusion on his face was nearly masked, he had no idea why Emily was stopping by after school.

“No, actually, but I will get them from Ashley via email, thanks.” She sat, stiffly in front of her boss, unwilling to mince words, she set her copy of the Board’s memo on his desk. “There are better ways of going about this, don’t you think?”

“I had no idea they were sending this out, Emily. Why are you upset?” Hotch held the sheet without looking at it, eyes wary.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps someone decided I am the next victim in Lizzie’s temper tantrum.” Emily stared glassy eyed at Hotch, waiting.

“To my knowledge, this is not about you. Is there something you feel guilty about?” Hotch smirked, amused at the shocked expression on the woman’s face.

“Not guilty, let’s just say I am uneasy with the way the atmosphere can change.”

“You’ve been teaching for seventeen years, Emily. What possibly changed that much, suddenly?”

“I had a relationship with a co-worker. A relationship many people do not approve of.” Emily laid her cards bare.

“Emily this is not about one of the staff being gay, or anyone being LGBTQ.” Hotch explained.

“It’s not?” She nodded. “Good.” The relief at war with her unshakeable demeanor.

“Besides, I don’t know why you think that was a secret until recently. You went to school here, people have always talked.”

“I had no idea my private life was common gossip.”

“Emily, you’re a highly respected educator. Nothing about your character or your desire to fill these kids’ heads full of possibility is in question.”

She smiled, he was good at this. “Before I go, I gotta know. When did you know?” She raised her chin in interest.

Hotch exhaled through pursed lips, “Well, when Ian Doyle asked you to Homecoming your senior year?” Hotch shrugged.

“You remember that?!” Emily chuckled. “Christ, what were you, a freshman?”

“You threw his lunch in the trash and gave him a double middle finger.” The subdued laughter shaking his chest.

“And that proves I’m gay, how?” Emily countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You did it to get a rise out of your crush.” Hotch leaned back in his chair.

“Bullshit.”

“It’s okay, Emily. I had a thing for Mrs. Robbins too. I think everyone did. She always wore those-”

They looked at each other and broke into fits. “Miniskirts.” They said in unison.

March 24 3:17pm Raleigh, NC

Alex, Stephen and Kate stood in the wings of the stage watching the 2017 debate team await their scores for the first round of the Southeast Regional Competition. Zachary was off to the side as Sacha and Kimi held hands nervously. Trevor, Amelia, and Jake were trying to get each other to laugh, psyching each other out. The emcee’s voice boomed through the microphone, “The winner of the 2017 group debate with a team of four or more is—- the Junction School for Girls from Ideal, Georgia.”

Alex knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier watching the disappointment fall on each of her kids’ faces. Kate stood beside her, clapping encouragingly. They had an outstanding season up until this point, caravan-ing and squabbling over semantics to get here. Alex was incredibly proud of how far they had come, but it didn’t matter, the loss had to be felt before the silver lining could be recognized as more than a splinter in an open wound.

Stephen gestured to the kids, shaking his hand in the air. Zachary caught his drift and started congratulating their opponents on their victory. Sacha rolled her eyes and stomped in line behind Kimi, muttering her parroted responses. The teams cleared the stage and found their chaperones.

“Unsubs!” Alex waved over her head, despite Stephen’s higher perch. “Alright, how do you guys think you did?”

“Well, we lost, so-” Amelia started.

“We did good. They did better.” Zachary shrugged.

“You really think we did worse than them?” Sacha challenged.

“Zach is right, Sash.” Ms. Blake explained. “And that’s okay. We lost. It sucks. But it is not the end of the world. You, all, have grown in ways I didn’t know you could this season. You are still Virgina’s State Champion Debate Team, don’t forget that.”

March 24 11:14pm

Spencer Reid had been over to Elle’s apartment a handful of times over the year and a half they had worked together. He helped cat sit when she went home for Christmas, he had joined her for some awards show last winter and then there was the soap opera binge of summer 2016 when it had been too hot to leave the house and they watched a month’s worth of a show in a weekend. Needless to say, he had never arrived uninvited, especially not in the middle of the night. But something was off with Elle that day at school and Spencer hadn’t been able to sleep not knowing his friend was alright.

He should have called her before he left, weighing the concept of owning a cell phone in his mind before dismissing the thought. But he hadn’t called, so when he knocked nervously on her door, he was expecting a less than polite reception from her colorful mouth. She opened the door with a quick harrumph after checking the peep hole.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Dr. Reid?” She laughed at herself as she showed him inside. Spencer’s suspicions proven concrete with the jar of booze left out on the kitchen island. He squinted behind his glasses and stood anxiously with his hands in his pockets.

“I noticed something was bothering you, earlier. And, uh, I couldn’t sleep knowing you were upset.” Spencer explained, Elle’s face was rosy with the warmth inside her. Her dark features softened with the loss of tension from the alcohol. It wasn’t that she was more beautiful drunk. Although, those walls she kept up emotionally, had come down; allowing her to be viewed physically and not just navigated socially. She noticed Spencer noticing this phenomenon.

“You were thinking about me?” Elle’s voice was softer, deeper. Spencer gulped. “Would you like a drink? I’ve had my share and it is best to not drink alone.”

“Is it?” Spencer asked, not knowing that expression.

“So they say,” Elle grinned, bringing down another glass from the cabinet. “Take your coat off, Reid.”

Eventually Spencer relaxed enough to sit down with Elle in her living room, each clutching their cocktail glasses. He for a grounding effect, she so as not to spill. A comedy played in the background as small talk took over the conversation. Elle didn’t say it, but she was relieved that he had shown up. Too scared to be alone with her own thoughts.

“Are we going to talk about what sent my Spidey-senses off today?” Spencer teased, having finished one of the potent beverages and starting on his second.

“I thought it was obvious,” Elle shrugged. “The continued witch hunt from the Regents? I mean, it feels like this is just another tick against me for hurting their reputation for having Brayden put away.“

“That whole thing occurred on campus, Elle.” Spencer reassured her. “I thought the memo had to do with Penelope and Coach Morgan?”

“Please, Spence, Rossi and Alex were married, for like, years. They don’t get their panties this twisted over co-mingling.”

“They don’t?” Spencer’s voice cracked, the surprise evident.

“I mean, unless they are getting it on during school hours or in the locker room. Of course.” Elle chuckled.

“Right, of course.” Spencer shrugged, sipping the biting liquid again.

“You really don’t drink much, huh?” Elle pinched his cheek, as he tried to straighten away the disgust on his face. He froze at her touch, she was soft and warm.

“Not really.” Spencer breathed, she was leaning closer as if they were sharing a secret.

“Reid, don’t freak out, but I am going to kiss you now.” Elle said plainly, her eyes calm, yet searching.

“Wha-?” Spencer started as her mouth encased his bottom lip. Her hair smelled of honey and teak. He remembered to close his eyes as her hands found the sides of his face. This was nice.

Elle managed to take Spencer’s cup from his sweaty palm and set it down on the coffee table with barely a break in their kiss. Spencer didn’t know what to do with his hands, keeping them tentatively on her thighs. Suddenly she was straddling his lap and his glasses were gone. Spencer’s body was enjoying this more than the rational parts of his brain as he realized how drunk Elle must be and how this was not why he came over in the first place.

“Hey,” Elle asked, pecking along his jaw. “Everything alright?”

“There is so much going on, that it would be indeterminable for it to be right in its entirety.” Spencer’s fact voice replied.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, Spence.” Elle explained then began stroking his ear with her tongue.

“You have?” His voice shifted with his unforgiving blush.

“I mean, waiting for you to get over JJ. Then when you told Emily off I got nervous again. But now, I think it’s safe. Don’t you?”

“Why now? What’s changed?” Spencer’s curiosity getting the best of him, his hands holding her small waist affectionately.

“Well, because she went and got herself knocked up. Clearly, JJ is out of the picture.”

Spencer froze, Elle closed her eyes at the faux pas. She rolled off his lap as he processed what she had told him. It was devastating him and the reality of its weight sunk in Elle’s stomach. The shame and the bitterness warred within her.

“Look, I’m sorry I said anything about JJ,” Elle began, standing and clearing their glasses. “But I’m not sorry for kissing you. Now, if you can say the same, we can keep talking.”

Elle couldn’t look him in the eye, because they oozed regret and she didn’t want their moment tarnished more. He had kissed her back, even if he didn’t have all the information, some part of him wanted her too. But he still loved JJ more, that much was abundantly clear. Spencer found his glasses and followed Elle to the kitchen.

“I don’t know what to say,” Spencer admitted. He always had something to say, why were words failing him now when he needed them most?

“You don’t have to say anything, Reid.” Elle’s walls were returning. “Thanks for stopping by. Maybe we can do this again, if Mommy Dearest let’s you out of the house.”

“Don’t be like that.” He cringed. “I came over to make sure you’re okay and I somehow made it worse, haven’t I?” Spencer didn’t wait for an answer, it was better left unsaid. He grabbed his coat and waved his goodbye. Elle locked the door behind him and bent over as the tears washed over her.

April 3 3:35pm

Tara Lewis wasn’t sure what was worse, the quiet or the storm. She knew her presence at the school hadn’t been expected. She also knew that the students had been allowed to slack off under their previous history instructor’s tenure. The audacity of her to expect their darling Sallys and Johns to apply insight to their history essays or handle more than multiple choice exams, honestly.

Dr. Tara Lewis was well-versed in the politics of private school educations of the spawn of the one percenters. She was, unfortunately, not used to the blatant biases of the south. It wasn’t a surprise, she was far too smart to be naive. It was just another layer she had to break her way through that glass ceiling. After the first month of her teaching had passed with little more than a catty remark from a student here or there; she knew she was still in the quiet.

The storm rolled in with a Coach purse, hiding behind a pair of Fendi shades.

“Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Kane-Gordon?” Dr. Lewis asked as the mother wandered into her classroom, barely after the final bell.

“I want to know what the hell you think you’re doing!” The woman left little room for polite conversation.

“Ma’am, if you would like to question my teaching methods or expectations, I insist on Headmaster Hotchner’s presence. He should know about any concerns about my performance.” Dr. Lewis’s voice was saccharine laced venom, gaging that this parent was on the shallower end of observant. ‘He should know what I have to deal with,’ was what she meant.

“He has already been emailed about this. I just don’t see how Sacha’s grade could drop so much, its clear you’re new at this.”

“No. Sacha’s grade dropped because she is not performing to the standards set by this school or myself. If she wants a better grade, she will have to work for it. Now I am ha-”

“I’m not done here.” Lauren Kane-Gordon interjected.

“I’m sure you’re not. But I the bell rang twelve minutes ago, and that means I am free to go. If you need me, the headmaster and I will be happy to set up a meeting. Sacha can ask for help anytime. Goodnight, Ms. Kane-Gordon.”

April 10 1pm

Penelope squealed as Andrew held the door open for his mother and father.

“Mr. and Mrs. Heathridge, come on in, folks!” The guidance counselor led them over to her couch and lounge chairs. “I’m so glad you could make it in to help Andrew transition back into classes.”

Derek had stopped Andrew at the door, a welcoming fist bump turned hug for his varsity lineman. They joined Ms. Garcia and Andrew’s parents at their little pow-wow.

“So how’s it going, man?” Coach Morgan asked, trying to keep the mood positive.

“Good, that rehab was pretty intense stuff, but I’m really glad I went. It wasn’t like an addiction, like what Dr. Reid went through, but the body image issues and the need to be the best were driving every part of my day.” Andrew confided to the group.

“Oh, buddy, we are so proud of you,” Ms. Garcia patted his large knee. “Now, for the not so good news. Classes are off like gangbusters for second semester, you’ll have to check in with each of your teachers weekly to see that you are getting caught up.”

“And Dr. Reid and I are still having after school study sessions on Wednesdays in the Library. If you need me, I’m there.”

“Thanks, Coach.” Andrew nodded, writing down reminders for himself on a small steno pad. “And Ms. Garcia, of course.”

“Now, Andrew is still being recruited by Ohio State and Western Michigan.” Mr. Heathridge explained. “How can we ensure we, Andrew is the right head space to start in the fall?”

“Well, he knows he can come to us, either of us, with anything.” Coach Morgan began.

“And I have his doctor’s numbers from the treatment facility if we notice and fallbacks. This is a village and we don’t disappear even when our kids graduate.” Ms. Garcia added enthusiastically.

“Do you hear that, baby?” Mrs. Hearthridge’s stroked her son’s large arm. “No more, I’m too tough for help, crap.”

“Yes, mama.” Andrew rolled his eyes playfully, but she pinched him back.

“Alrighty, well, we have everything set for tomorrow. Headmaster Hotchner wants you to stop in to see him in the morning, he has a schedule of meeting times with each teacher outside of class time.” Ms. Garcia explained.

“Thanks again, both of you.” Mrs. Heathridge’s graciousness was infectious.

“And Dr. Reid, tell him from us as well?” Mr. Heathridge added.

“See ya, Coach, Ms. Garcia.”

The couple proudly saw the family back out towards the parking lot. They were born to do this; help kids grow into adults. Derek kept his hands at his sides, missing the hug of celebration from his Baby Girl.

Very Special Thanks to Cassie @mentallydatingspencerreid,

Meg @imagicana , and Loki @ay-nako!!!

@ddreammcatcher @ultrarebelheart @lightbluelester @criminal-anatomy @captainreid @thebadyears @amarislestrange @shaelyn102 @badasprentiss @fl0werb0nes18 @inestava @sam-carter-in-training @wonderboygenius @fortheloveofpearlet @valentina-pendragon-blog @imarockstar45 @chocok22 @cynbx @fairymega @madamredwrites @doctorspencerreidrp @mindsunleashed @dontshootmespence @bookofreid @marvelfanlife @welp-there-it-is @ilikeitwhenyousleepforyouareso @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @original-criminal-fanfics @derpyprentiss @olicia-leeshy @lookwhatyoumademequeue @veroinnumera @sarahkay-19 @sammles27 @lesbian-asajj @teatimewithtiya @braziliangirlonasharkcity @alienlynz @janam03 @nobravery @clockworkballerina

@whymesswperfection @hagridsmumhasgotitgoingon @brooke0297 @xxmaddhatter39xx @gurliest @handpaintedgalaxy @kxlley

@krazykendraisnotinsane @bat-crazydoll8 @hownottobeaheartbreaker @captainreid @beereadsthings @prettyboysjello @megsi98 @criminal-prentiss @eternaldarknessiscool

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cordria · 8 years ago

Text

Blackmail

When Danny slipped through the wall into the mayor’s office, it was nearly one in the morning. Despite the hour, Amity Park’s mayor - Vlad Masters - was sitting at his desk sorting through papers.

“Daniel,” Vlad greeted, glancing up. Despite the fact that Danny was invisible, Vlad’s eyes zeroed in on him with disturbing accuracy. “It’s well past your curfew.”

Danny scowled and crossed his arms, letting himself become visible. “I was at the hospital.”

“Ah yes. How is your friend doing?” Vlad went back to making stacks of papers.

“Seven broken bones, a punctured lung, and a severe concussion,” Danny stated. When Vlad had zero reaction, Danny threw his hands into the air. “Seriously? Have have nothing to say about that?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“Like, an apology? A tiny bit of remorse? Some semblance of humanity?” Danny stalked forwards, grabbing onto the back of one of the chairs positioned in front of Vlad’s desk. “It’s completely your fault he’s-”

“Firstly,” Vlad said, looking up and pinning Danny with a dark glare, “it is not completely my fault. Mostly, yes. But some of the blame falls on the boy and on you. Had you stayed out of my dealings - and especially had you not dragged a fragile human teenager along for the ride - he would not have been hurt.”

Danny glared back, refusing to give an inch, refusing to admit that Vlad may have scored a tiny, little, miniscule point with that comment.

“Secondly, you seem to keep forgetting that I’m not a wonderful, heroic example of the human race.” Vlad looked away, grabbing a pen and signing his name with a flourish. “I gave up on those sort of progressive ideals long ago.”

Pulling his hand off the chair, Danny reached into his backpack and pulled out a manilla envelope. Without a word, it dropped it on top of the paper Vlad had just signed.

“Looking for an autograph?” Vlad deadpanned as he picked the envelope up and opened it. Pulling out the contents with a disdainful expression, Vlad glanced down at several photographs. Then froze. “Where did you get these?”

“I have my sources,” Danny said, going for nonchalant.

“Your father,” Vlad guessed - correctly. His fingers tightened, energy spiking around them. The edges of the photographs started to turn black and curl.

“I also have copies.” Danny leaned his elbows on the back of the chair, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t about to beat out of his chest. He raised his chin. “And if I don’t get some sort of apology for what happened to Tucker, they’ll be all over the news in the morning.”

Vlad paused, staring at Danny with a startled - and somewhat amused - expression. “Blackmail? Really?”

Danny fought to keep from squirming at the look. “You hurt my best friend.”

“I don’t care.” Vlad threw the pictures at Danny with a scoff. “Go home, Daniel. Or go back to the hospital and pine over your friend’s latest tragedy. You don’t have the heart to blackmail me.”

Danny picked up the picture that had fluttered to a stop on the chair he was standing over. “I do too.” His chin stuck out, stubborn and angry at Vlad’s complete lack of care.

“You do not. Besides, those pictures hitting the news feeds would hurt your father just as much as they would hurt me.”

“You have more to lose-”

“I do not.” Vlad threaded his hands together and placed them onto the piles of paper. “In reality, I have the resources and power available to squash whatever rumors those bits of rubbish would start. Your father does not. He would become an internet meme by lunch, and have lost all credibility and standing within the community by the time the sun sets. I would be hurt, yes. I may lose standing in a sizable portion of my public businesses, perhaps this position as an elected official would be forfeit. But I would not be ruined.”

“I-”

“Go home, Daniel.” Vlad picked up the next paper on his stack and started to scan it.

“No!” Stalking forwards, Danny slammed his hands down on Vlad’s desk, toppling over several stacks of carefully organized papers. “You need to stop hurting people.”

Vlad stared at him over the piece of paper he was holding, looking less than amused at the mess. “Then people should stop getting in my way.”

“Innocent-”

“Your friend is far from innocent,” Vlad stated darkly. “And you’ll get no apology from me that he wasn’t smart enough to realize he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Danny stood still, stewing in his anger. He hated it when people talked down to him like he was stupid. He despised Vlad’s logical uncaringness. He was furious and embarrassed that Vlad had shot down Danny’s blackmail attempt like it hadn’t even existed. He loathed the fact that so few people could see that Vlad was slimy and underhanded and evil.

“Go home, child.”

“No,” Danny said, too stubborn to admit that he’d been completely outmatched. Raising a fist, he pulled it back and aimed straight for the man’s hooked nose, with some half-plan to try forcing Vlad to do something.

Before he could throw even one punch, Vlad pulled a red, gun-shaped object out of his desk, pointed it at Danny, and pulled the trigger. A moment later, Danny felt his muscles turn to mush and he fell to the ground, twitching - and human again. He slowly pushed himself upright, reaching up to pull the two wires of the stun gun out of his chest. The world spun in dangerous circles, and Danny debated throwing up on Vlad’s carpet.

He could hear the scritch of pen on paper as Vlad continued to work. “I hate you,” Danny said, his voice a little slurred.

“Revelations abound,” Vlad muttered. “Shall I call your mother for a ride, or are you going to walk home?”

“Like hell I want you to do anything,” Danny said under his breath, but couldn’t find the energy to push himself to his feet. Even if he made it to his feet, Danny doubted he’d stay there long. Maybe the best thing he could do to pester Vlad would just be not leave. It was a public space, right? Nobody could make him leave.

He heard the click of a phone being picked up, Vlad’s voice speaking quietly, and then silence. It was only minutes (at least in his scrambled mind) before the door opened and someone knelt down beside him. “Oh, Sweetie,” he mother said. “Come on.”

Danny thought about arguing, but without being able to oust Vlad as the monster he really was, Danny didn’t have much to say. He let his mother hoist him to his feet and get him home. Still stewing over how evil Vlad was and how thoroughly Vlad had outmaneuvered him, Danny sank into his bed and slept.

The next morning, there was a manilla envelope sitting at the end of his bed. Danny recognized it with a flush of embarrassed anger - it was the one he’d given those photos to Vlad in. He scooped it up, determined to just throw it away, only it seemed much thicker than before. Danny opened it and pulled out a stack of papers, glaring down at it.

Daniel --

After that childish display last night, it is more obvious than ever that you have a lot of growing up to do. Although you made several very obvious missteps, I am pleased to see some growth in your character. Slow growth to be sure, but progress is progress. Should you ever wish some actual training in how to properly blackmail a government official in the future, I would be pleased to offer my assistance.

As for our other conversation, the enclosed should suffice. Since you are making steps towards adulthood, I suppose allowing you the occasional meaningless request is something I can accept.

-- Vlad

Danny growled in his throat, his ghost powers - that had only started to reappear after the shock hours ago - flickered around him. The note reeked of Vlad’s snobbish, villainous attitude. Childish? Missteps? Meaningless request? What did Vlad think he was… Danny’s mentor?

Pulling out the rest of the papers, Danny paged through them. The first page was a new statute for the city of Amity Park, substituting an old one. Instead of the head of the city council stepping into the mayor’s place if Vlad became incapacitated, it now allowed Vlad to appoint someone of his own choosing. The next several pages were a letter from Vlad - signed by several lawyers and most of the city council - stating that Vlad’s chosen designee was Tucker Eric Foley.

Danny blinked. “What?”

Attached to the last page was a small sticky note. As I have no plans on leaving this position, it read, this is as empty a gesture as any apology would have been. Hopefully it inspires you and your friends to keep growing.

Danny crumpled the sticky note in his fist and sent a flare of energy through it, turning it to ashes. He stared down at the papers for a long moment, debating what to do with them, before vanishing in a flare of light and taking off across town towards the hospital. Hopefully Tucker was awake.

#Danny Phantom #was a drabble #got too long again #but that's life

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izukacchan · 8 years ago

Link

fandom: Boku No Hero Academia

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou/Midoriya Izuku

A/N: this is a lot longer than the previous chapter and im sorry but this short little thing is now complete! I hope you all enjoy <3 (Also i always attach the fic itself onto my posts but i’d read this on AO3 for text format reasons :O)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (here)

It’s always fucking Deku.

For all his life, whenever Deku was involved his body set off some kind of voluntary alarms, so nothing about this was a new sensation, but the fact that the center of all his attention, admiration and...affection? -- that’s disgusting, forget he even thought that -- whatever it’s called, all of it being pointed in Deku’s direction to this degree was a new level of danger he wasn’t ready to handle.

What even was it? He knew Deku stood out, he knew Deku was different, but so did everyone else who ran into the asshole, so why had he let himself fall this deep?

Flipping around on his back and throwing his hands into his face he groaned long and loudly in annoyance. Something about this bastard was keeping Bakugou’s heart locked in place and tied around his little finger, every word held some new weight of significance that didn’t previously exist and it was making his stomach whirl.

Friend.

Rival.

Partner.

Why?

Why him?

Bakugou slammed the door to his bedroom behind him and let out the roar he’d been keeping in his chest all night...no, all day…no…all this time of nothing but fucking buildup for months erupted from his heart and out of his mouth as he kicked off his shoes and paced around – face buried in his hands frustratingly.

While pacing and growling into his palms he heard three knocks come from the outside of his wall.

This school could pay to get a dorm building set up in less than a few weeks, but couldn’t put enough of that budget into making sure the walls weren’t paper fucking thin, so often Kirishima would bang on the other end of the wall in the most convenient way possible of telling him to quiet down.

At that warning, Bakugou immediately resorted to trudging himself to his bed, collapsing face first into the mattress, and screaming angrily into his pillow instead.

Why Deku? Out of all the people in the world why was it Deku?

It’s always fucking Deku.

What even was it? He knew Deku stood out, he knew Deku was different, but so did everyone else who ran into the asshole, so why had he let himself fall this deep?

Friend.

Rival.

Partner.

Almost a decade of falling out and still being enraptured in each other made Deku both a familiar and unfamiliar presence, one that still managed to surprised him but he still somehow knew better than anything else. It was an odd mixture that made Bakugou realize no matter what, him Deku weren’t ever going to be the ideal perfect image of childhood sweethearts that you’d read about from a fucking shoujo, but even so…. what was this?

“It’s nothing,” Bakugou muttered to himself through grit teeth, “It’s something, but it’s nothing, get a hold of yourself,”

Lifting himself up from the bed he kicked off his shoes and stood up to the direction of the bathroom to get a shower running.

He wasn’t going to let himself be some lovesick puppy, okay so he might – he has a crush on Deku.

Whatever.

The next day is coming and he can just ignore it, now that he’s unfortunately and agonizingly sure of these feelings he can keep up like a normal human being and try not to be too obvious, right? Other kids like his classmates may be terrible at hiding their infatuations but Bakugou wasn’t any ordinary kid.

He could take these feelings and kick it in the ass like he did everything else.

He tried his damndest to keep himself psyched on that ideology.

He went to bed chiming the promise to himself in his head as a reminder, and woke up the next morning reminding himself over and over again.

He felt good about it, grabbing his backpack and shoes he sucked in a deep breath and smiled smugly to himself, fully reassured.

The minute he stepped out the door he was gonna head to class, look Deku in the eye, and get on with his fucking life like none of this ever happe-

“…Oh! Good morning, Kacchan!”

The minute he opened the door, everything about Bakugou’s determined posture melted.

“What…” Bakugou, started staring at Deku in disbelief.

“Uh…”

“We’re.. we’re you…,” Bakugou looked around the hallway to see if anyone else was with Deku or was maybe heading this direction, but no, the only person around was the one infront of him, wearing a mixture of a nervous and amused wobbly smile, “How long have you been fucking standing out here?”

“Oh, not long!” Deku laughed, “I got here maybe a few minutes ago...I figured you know…it wouldn’t be too bad to walk to class together, right? You don’t mind?”

Deku looked up at him with teasingly pleading eyes and Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat.

“No… no, fuck why the hell would I care?” Bakugou grunted, “You should still probably think to maybe warn people before just popping up wherever the fuck you’d like.”

“I thought you just said you didn’t care?” Deku huffed out amused, “Kidding, kidding, you’re right… but erm…so the real reason I came a little unannounced is uh…”

Deku started twiddling his thumbs around and Bakugou was beginning to lose what patience he had.

“What? Open your mouth and talk,”

“Well uh,” Deku continued with a smile, lifting one hand to the side of his face as if he were about to tell Bakugou an important secret, and instinctively, Bakugou stiffened.

“Do you… have the answers to last night’s homework?” he whispered harshly.

What.

“Wh- what the…”

“Heh…heh…”

“Deku, what the FUCK why didn’t you fucking do it before th-“

All Might.

Bakugou stopped himself, and Deku looked a little relieved he understood.

“Hah...yeah well see, I was going to do it before coming to Kirishima’s but then… I got a little caught up you know?” Deku started twiddling his thumbs again, “And when I got home last night, even though I was exhausted I thought about doing it then, but I remembered what you said about how ‘there’s no fucking point-,”

“-if you’re already halfway fucking dead,” Bakugou finished Deku’s poor imitation.

“Yeah, right! You said that last time I came to class kinda you know a little...” Deku knocked on the side of his head twice to finish his sentence for him and giggled nervously, “in the end, I ended up passing out anyways, so I’m really sorry but,” he pressing his hands together apologetically he finished, “please, Kacchan?”

So, he fell for an idiot, a complete fucking idiot.

“What the hell ever,” Bakugou hissed throwing his bag over his shoulder and stepping past Deku to walk ahead, “Yeah, I got it done, you’re real damn lucky you can write fast Lightning-Hands,”

Deku sped up to catch up to Bakugou and settled into a pace right beside him, shoulders brushing. They had been at this for awhile but suddenly the significance of Deku walking alongside him was a lot more evident, and he had to temper the shade of red threatening to cross over his face.

“’Lightning-Hands’… that’s a new one, although it makes me think of Kaminari a bit,” Deku pouted, “anything a little more creative, maybe?”

“Sure, how about ‘step-the-fuck-off-you-fucking-nerd’,”

“Oh wow, that is creative…definitely a mouthful though…not your best work,”

“You know what? You can fail actually, you get nothing.”

“Kacchan wait, no please,” Deku mockingly whined with a laugh.

“You heard me! Nothing, you fucking asshole,” Bakugou tried to sound serious but the smile creeped up on his face against his own wishes as Deku knocked into his side trying to reach for Bakugou’s bag.

All down the hallway their bickering continued, the sound of Deku’s laughter followed by Bakugou’s sneers echoed against the walls unknowingly waking up the last few people sleeping in, and momentarily startling the students already awake, but much groggier than pair.

This was not an unusual occurrence for the class these days, and Bakugou was only maybe halfway aware of how embarrassing it was because the other half of him always decided in the moment he didn’t really give a fuck as he knocked Deku around and the two of them chased each other down the hall.

‘Lightning-Hands’? What was I thinking?

Behind him, Deku was hurriedly copying Bakugou’s work down, whilst the blond ran his fingers through his hair frustratingly, clenching his teeth and flexing his fists.

He couldn’t tell what he was more embarrassed about, the fact that he may have been flirting or how he’d chosen to go about it. Either other way it was pissing him off as reality had finally dawned on him for the moments he wasn’t in speaking range of Deku.

So much for kicking this infatuation in the ass, everything mundane about their interactions were now hitting Bakugou like a train. Actually, it had been doing this before, so this was more like 10 trains consecutively piling on each other.

When Aizawa came dragging himself into the classroom and picked up their homework, Bakugou tried to focus on the old man instead, trying to put everything off his mind to focus on the one goddamn thing in the class that wasn’t going to give him as much heart burn.

Sometime in the middle of Aizawa talking, Deku started poking on Bakugou’s back.

He was still unbearably irritated, and now wasn’t the time, but Deku was insistent.

“Kacchan… psst, Kacchan,”

“What,” Bakugou whispered harshly not bothering to turn around like he normally would.

“You have to turn around, hey…” Deku whispered just as harshly, continuing to poke at his shoulder.

The tingle he got from the contact was returning, and the quickness of his heart beat only proved to piss him off more than it did excite him.

“Whatever you have to say, say it now.”

“What? No, turn around I want t-“

“Either say it don’t!” Bakugou whispered in a yell, still refusing to turn around and harshly slamming his fist down on the desk.

“Midoriya, Bakugou, do you two have something to share with the class?” Aizawa grunted, clearly annoyed with seeing the two furiously go back and forth.

Normally, Bakugou would turn around and freely communicate with Deku, in the few times Aizawa had admonished them it had been because they were too loud laughing, too loud with sounds of approvals, Deku’s “Ohhh”’s and “Ahhh’s” over whatever they were blabbing about causing a disruption, those kinds of things.

Typically, he just didn’t mind, but Bakugou’s dealt with enough class call-outs to not be bothered by Aizawa’s tone whatsoever.

And even though this instance was definitely a little different, Bakugou had become a master of coming up with a fake response on spot.

“No, Sensei. Deku was just asking a question,” Bakugou replied as though it were rehearsed, “It’s over with and dropped now, right?”

Bakugou aimed the end of his question at Deku, and though a little perplexed, Deku responded back.

“Y...yeah sensei, it’s okay really, sorry,” Deku called.

With a dissatisfied sniff, Aizawa turned back around to the board to continue his lesson, Deku buried his face back in his notes and didn’t prod at Bakugou again. Somehow a lot of the tension Bakugou was feeling had went away with knowing Deku’s insistence had been killed.

The remainder of the class went on normally, and it’s when lunchtime hit that Bakugou realized he had another issue.

“Kacchan!” Deku had stood outside his desk waiting for him to get up, “we’re eating lunch on the rooftop today right?”

Bakugou and Deku had started a tradition of eating lunch alone together when Deku came back from meetings and discussions with All Might. It was a time dedicated mostly to Deku talking about all the things the mentor and student had spoken to about in private, and Bakugou more than willing to listen and feed into all of Deku’s worries and excitement. It was something he’d rather Deku blabber about to him than just anyone again, anyways. It was easily an excuse for alone time, and Bakugou had found himself actually looking forward to it whenever Deku approached him with the invitation.

But today….

“Guh…uh,” Bakugou started, and Deku’s face looking a little disappointed, “Not…not today,” Bakugou picked up his lunch and bag and stepped away from Deku to keep a distance from his face, “You can just tell me later, or something I guess, but I promised the gang I’d sit with them and entertain their bullshit for a day.”

Deku looked at Bakugou as if he wanted to ask ‘why would you do that?’ - and he was right, why the fuck would he do that – but he seemed to think better of it and just resigned to a sigh.

“Okay…that’s um…that’s fine, you have fun, I’ll sit with the others too…” Deku was clearly a little sad and worried looking, but he took in a breath anyways to finish his sentence, “be nice to them okay? Don’t let them drive you too crazy,”

He forced a laugh, and Bakugou feeling a little bad and decided to go ahead smile smugly back.

“There’s no fucking way that won’t happen,”

Having been a little reassured by Bakugou’s silly response, Deku’s down-trodden face slowly began gleaming again, and with a laugh he turned to exit the classroom.

“I figured,” he laughed over his shoulder, “Still…good luck, anyways!”

As Deku exited the classroom to head to the commons, the minute Bakugou heard the last of his footsteps, his smile dropped into an evident and irritated frown.

The feeling from last night of being separated from Deku was erupting again, but now equally piled on with the irritation of knowing these feelings were making his stomach sick again.

He had to stay away from Deku.

Because avoiding the problem has always worked, right? Bakugou’s conscious asked sarcastically to himself before choosing to ignore it.

If he avoided the problem, he could figure out how to deal with it.

That was his new plan.

So at the end of the day when everyone was packing to leave, instead of waiting for Deku, he got his things and said he was going to his dorm alone.

“Alone?” Deku looked disappointed again.

“Yeah, as in ‘by myself’,” Bakugou grunted.

He never bothered coming up with an excuse for Deku or a lie, this was just the situation, and even if Deku looked like he desperately wanted to ask ‘why?’ or ‘what’s wrong?’ he just lowered his gaze slightly and complied.

“Well…alright, I’ll see you later then I guess?”

“Yup,” Bakugou replied quickly with little care, “later.”

Bakugou hurriedly exited the classroom, didn’t look at Deku’s eyes, didn’t stop to see if he had something more to say, just grabbed his things and walked out with his head held high.

This was a start.

When he got home he immediately threw his things down, and settled on his bed, ready to do this self-reflection thing and find a solution to the problem.

However, Day 1 of figuring out how to solve his infatuation only came up with one answer:

Avoid him.

The next day, Bakugou did just that.

Deku approached Bakugou in the morning at his desk as he usually did and gave a beaming, “Good morning!” to which Bakugou simply replied to with a wave and didn’t bother looking Deku in the face.

Normally, Bakugou would have responded with a grunt or at least some snide remark but his passiveness caused Deku to freeze in shock from going toward him for a moment, and with a worried look, he opted to turn around to talk to Uraraka and Iida instead.

This lasted for the rest of the week, Deku made open approaches and Bakugou either ignored him or hardly gave a response. Having Deku out of his space cleared his head a little more, but made little room for the intrusiveness his more painful and berating thoughts.

You’re an idiot.

“Kacch-,“ Deku had whispered behind him one day, trying to start a conversation before being interrupted by Bakugou abruptly raising his hand.

“Aizawa-sensei can I be excused I gotta take a piss.”

You’re doing it again.

“Kacchan, hey are you-“ Deku started another day, but had been cut off by the sound of Bakugou’s chair screech as he stood from his desk once again leaving early for home.

“Kacchan!” Deku had called at Bakugou’s back but he didn’t turn back to respond and just kept moving forward.

Don’t talk to him.

Sucking in a breath Deku approached Bakugou with his lunch and slammed it down on his desk, a bit of a desperate look painted his eyes but the smile of his still gleamed.

“Kacchan? All Might told me something really cool the other day, can we talk about it?” Deku spoke quickly, but his voice was left with a tinge of strain as he tried to hold up.

“No. Not today,” Bakugou avoided eye contact in his cold response, which was not nearly as strong as he felt.

You want to talk with him.

The next day Bakugou had walked out the classroom early, he of course wasn’t met with Deku’s excited gleam on the path home, he walked the sunset shadowed sidewalks alone. The sound of the wind and clinging gates that had been previously drowned out by the sound of Deku’s voice and his laughter on the trail were now louder than ever, and the pain in his heart was inescapable.

You’re starting to miss him.

Lain sprawled on his bed and staring at the ceiling, Bakugou grabbed a pillow from his left, repeated the thing he did the first night of his realization, and screamed.

Bakugou had spent more time trying to figure out how to avoid the situation than actually solving it, but the problem wasn’t him, it was Deku.

Deku was making him feel like this.

Deku was making him feel sick.

Deku was making him feel weak.

So how was he supposed to confront the problem if the problem’s existence twisted his insides just as much as being away from it did?

Tossing and turning, he tried to sleep, but everyday of this created a new pile up of noise in his mind that he couldn’t tune out, so much noise that he almost didn’t notice the sound of phone vibrating behind him.

Against his best wishes, his heart skipped excitedly when he opened up the phone to see the notification.

FUCKING DEKU now

Hi Kacchan! :)

Bakugou stared wide eyed at his phone for a bit, wondering how to respond. The bridge of texting him took a lot of his edge off, but he realized if Deku started asking questions about his behavior, he’d probably have to cut it off.

With that in mind, he sent the most neutral response he could think of.

what the fuck do you want

Bakugou expected a reply immediately, but there was a moment of silence between the notification of Deku having read his message that made him a little more nervous than he’d expected. However, when signal showing Deku was typing finally showed up, he stared at his phone expectantly.

nothing I just wanna talk…! ^^;

Bakugou grimaced at the response, it was too vague for him to entertain so instead he returned the favor.

I don’t have anything to talk about

After sending the text, he knew he was lying. He wanted to catch up, he wanted to make up for what time he’d neglected, he wanted to see his inbox fill as Deku spammed him with handwritten notes and explanations, and he wanted to talk about all the mundane things in the world, but he knew it would all lead to Deku asking the questions he didn’t want to answer.

Whats been wrong?

Are you okay?

And he’d have to answer, he’d feel inclined to give Deku the reason, he’d be forced in that moment to confess once the question was lain down. Bakugou wasn’t going to place himself in a position to lie, saying “nothing” was not an option for him anymore, so instead he gave Deku the wheel to decide where to go.

oh…yeah, me neither honestly haha :’)

And the conversation was killed, successfully.

Feeling a little bummed about it damned himself, Bakugou decided to fill the void by scrolling up to old conversations instead.

He found an old one from October and smirked, remembering it.

Kacchan what are you doing for Halloween this year? :O

locking myself away from you freaks, don’t think I didn’t see u sneaking around with hair-for-brains and four-eyes. Im not getting involved

gah I thought we were being sneaky >_< Kacchan its just a Halloween party, it’ll be fun!

Everyones going to be dressing up like what the fuck? are you all still in preschool?

Kacchan you only stopped dressing up last year, you don’t have to look cool in front of everyone :/

You’re right, because im fucking awesome already

Haha I guess that’s true too <3

Don’t be like that! Anyways, if youre not coming can you help me think of a costume?

Sure, not All Might.

But KACCHAN I could ask him to borrow his REAL UNIFORM it’d be authentic!!

You don’t think everyone would find it pretty fucking weird if u had an "authentic" all might costume?

Eh….>_>;

No All might costume.

Bakugou remembered for a bit Deku had stopped the conversation, and there hadn’t been a response for about 30 minutes before Bakugou got irritated and felt the need to push his point more.

If I wrap some toilet paper around my head or some shit will you do it too so im not the only one looking like a fucking idiot? Why do you insist on sticking out like a sore thumb all the damn time

Deku had responded immediately

Oh! you mean like mummies?

What else is fucking wrapped in toilet paper

That’s actually kind of cute… sure why not! Itd be fun to do something with you :)

say something stupid like that again and im cancelling

Fine… that’s really cool of you Kacchan ^^ Do you think we should get seros or aizawa-sensei’s help instead of toilet paper tho??? It’d be more authentic!

Would you look at that? Halloween = Cancelled

KACCHAN IM SORRY

The conversation went on from there and in the end Deku convinced Bakugou to go with him to ask Momo to clone some of Aizawa’s wrapping instead. And the Halloween party had actually been fun save for someone in in the class tying his and Deku’s wrapping together on purpose, causing them to accidentally trip around and shit, you can use your imagination for that because honestly Bakugou would rather forget it.

Scrolling down, more conversations ensued.

If i got a fish would u get one with me? The dorms said those are the only pets we can have and im lonely ):

No bcs then id choose the biggest and baddest fish and you’d choose some small little baby fuckmunchkin

Whats your point?

My fish would kill your fish

okaaaay....so…why don’t we both choose either two big fish or two small fish?

Id still pick the fucking best fish and you'd have to hold a funeral

Ok Kacchan -_-

A little further down.

Deku guess the fuck what

What? :O

Bakugou was sure the sign for him typing had been up for a long time and he pouted a bit embarrassed if Deku had watched the phone for it.

I was sparring with the arms guy right? The dude with loads of fucking arms, I wanted to show I could beat him in a fist fight. everything was going fucking great, only fists, I was dodging and everything but then the mother fucker clocked me in the face and my nose started bleeding -- he was so distracted by it I flipped the piece of shit on his ass with a sweep kick

It was fucking awesome, I guess using legs and fists isnt as shitty when I do it

My nose is still bleeding too. It’s a fucking pool of blood deku it just AINT STOPPING

Bakugou remembered he had taken over that entire conversation while walking to class after the spar with a small towel under his nose and a self-satisfied smile.

However, by the time he had reached the classroom he had seen Deku and Round-Face speaking to each other, glaring at Deku’s phone with concern and confusion.

“I just don’t know how he expects me to respond to this Uraraka. Do I get worried? Do I say good job? Do I-“

“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SHARING OUR CONVERSATIONS, DEKU?”

He kind of laughed at the memory now despite his irritation then, and continued to scroll through mindless conversations with Deku and finding the sick feeling in his stomach turn warm.

And as he continued scrolled through he made two assertions:

The first one being, Bakugou was so fucking obvious, anyone who read this would think Bakugou’s been pining for Deku since day one, he felt disgusted at his own lack of ambiguity.

The second realization being, Deku definitely couldn’t like him back.

Deku was Deku.

Always this kind to everyone and attentive to everyone’s will and wishes. Bakugou felt the sickness in his stomach return everytime a “<3” or a “cute” made him read the text as anything more than Deku’s usual shit.

And because of this, Bakugou knew he couldn’t ever let Deku know about these…feelings. No, he had to hope it would wane off, finding a way to deal with it only led to one solution: Telling him. And hell if Bakugou was going to scare Deku off with his own selfish, completely unreciprocated feelings.

He had to wait it off for as long as he could, and that meant continuing with his Deku-Deficiency.

So for weeks and weeks, Bakugou kept up avoiding him.

Every approach and every day Bakugou shook Deku off, the green haired boy’s face begun contorting from worry to annoyance over the course of time.

One day after Bakugou shrugged off another one of Deku’s invites to lunch, Bakugou thought he heard the boy growl in frustration.

And as this went on, Deku seemed to become more predisposed to just keeping away from Bakugou too. After the school day ended, with an upturned nose Deku would purposefully leave earlier than even Bakugou, and on days Bakugou had caught Deku leaving with All Might in the corner of his eyes, Deku didn’t bother asking him to lunch anymore afterwards. Instead Deku would happily bounce off with Uraraka and Iida while Bakugou went off with Kirishima and Kaminari.

Bakugou was a little grateful Deku got the message and also a little hurt. Still, he didn’t approach him, and they seemed to be in a mutual understanding of this arrangement. However, the oddity of it didn’t seem to miss the class.

Unfortunately for him, Class 1-A have had front row tickets to the Ballad of Kacchan and Deku since the beginning of time, so they’ve watched the two from the first fight on Ground-Beta, to the unwavering and strange amount of closeness that grew between the childhood friends after the second one. So for them to have distanced again caught everyone’s attention.

Especially All Might and Aizawa’s, as he started to notice them whispering after class and looking in Bakugou’s direction.

The weight of it, the weird stares, and Deku being blatantly fucking obvious about his irritation was driving Bakugou mad, but he was going to keep his cool, he was going to hold it off until the sight of Deku leaving the classroom didn’t make his heart drop. He was going to keep it up until looking at old text messages didn’t make his heart beat, and until hearing Deku laugh with others while he wasn’t involved didn’t make him want to drag himself towards the sound just for the sake of being closer to it, he was going to keep it up until this feeling of longing dissipated into fucking nothingness.

He contemplated this, prided himself on this ready and sure of it until once again, the universe decided fuck all, its time to kick this shit in the ass once and for all.

“Bakugou, Midoriya, today you two will stay after school to put up the desks and clean up,” Aizawa had dragged out as soon as class ended.

Bakugou froze from getting his things looking angrily and painfully in Aizawa direction, hoping maybe the daggers in his eyes would force the teacher to take back his statement or at least pair him with someone else.

From behind, Deku only looked blankly ahead.

“Yessir,” Deku replied immediately.

“Be sure to lock up when you two are done,” the teacher finished, gathering his things and dismissing the class.

He wasn’t going to get out of this, he was completely fucked.

So when the school had finally emptied and Deku and Bakugou were left alone setting up the tables and chairs he wasn’t surprised when Deku finally piped up with the question after only a few moments of silence.

“So, are you going to tell me the problem or what?”

Bakugou whipped around expecting to see Deku’s back and ended up being a little taken aback when he saw Deku standing defiantly in his direction, rocking one chair back and forth on its heels.

Bakugou puffed out his chest taking in a deep breath, ready to tell Deku to mind his fucking business and put the chairs up, but Deku only cocked his eyebrow, the irritation in his eyes forced Bakugou to back track. The words wouldn’t have escaped his mouth like he wanted with Deku looking at him like that, the anger Deku was feeling was seeping its way in Bakugou’s own heart, mirroring it, and unlocking every bit of frustration he’s held in for all these months. If Bakugou responded to that, he would spill everything in the most ungraceful and ugly manner known to man.

So instead he hid himself again, swerving around and slamming a chair backwards on a desk to release a little anger.

“I need you to get away from me,” he started, and hearing Deku’s mouth open to retaliate he continued, “just … fucking go wait outside in the hall or something and let me figure this the fuck out, shit,”

Looking down, he walked in Deku’s direction and snatched the chair that Deku was irritably rocking around from his hands, and Deku just glared daggers into him confusingly.

“Just fucking wait! I’ll do your half, but if you want to hear anything from me you need to give me like 15 damn minutes out of your presence.”

Deku looked like he wanted to argue, but sighing he relaxed his glare and reluctantly resigned.

“Fine,” he huffed, stepping backwards and then turning to exit the classroom.

When Deku had finally left, Bakugou kicked one of the chair away in frustration and screamed a “SHIT” loud enough he knew Deku probably heard on the other side.

Bakugou had to tell him the truth now, and he hadn’t thought this far ahead. In all his avoiding the issue he knew the eventual solution was going to be confessing, but he hadn’t planned for a second how he would. Could he get away with telling Deku he was over it now and they could move the hell on?

Slamming a chair down he realized, no. You don’t just avoid someone for 2 months without explanation and then demand 15 minutes of breathing room over feelings you just “got over”.

So what does he say?

Deku I like you.

Is that enough?

Deku I lo-

Accidentally screeching a seat across the floor a little louder than intended he decided “like” was definitely enough. That was the word he needed to use, or something similar.

“’Deku, I like you’, no fuck that sounds fucking ditsy I need to-,” Bakugou was muttering to himself while setting up the last of the chairs, “’You’ve really been pissing me off lately and’ – No... ‘It’s not fucking you its me, about you, so I guess it’s all your fucking fault in the end again huh? – gah NO, SHIT!”

Bakugou kept up rehearsing to himself all through setting up the chairs and sweeping, by the time he finished the last of the work he was sure he came up with the best way to put his makeshift and rushed confession.

“ ‘Deku, you piece of shit, I know it sounds fucking insane but I think I got a stupid puppy crush on you and it was pissing me off, that’s it.’ Yeah, perfect.”

Bakugou cheered to himself, muttering ‘Deku, you piece of shit’ to keep himself confident as he stepped out of the door to the classroom to meet with Deku in the hallway and finally shoot this circus act in the foot.

He was ready to meet with Deku’s anger, he was ready to put this shit out there and leave it to rot. Maybe with the way he says it Deku will blow up in his face and they can put it behind them, chalk it up as one big mistake, and let it all die.

He imagined how it would play out, put up the barriers needed to take Deku’s anger head on, he deserved it, he wanted it, he was prepared for it.

But of course, nothing could ever go as he wanted.

Why didn’t anything ever go as he wanted.

Walking out to the hall, instead of being met with Deku standing tall with fire in his eyes, he was met with the boy leaning casually right outside the door, his eyes blank.

And when he noticed Bakugou’s presence he looked at the taller boy with a quiet sadness in his eyes.

“So?” he demanded, his voice cracking a bit.

Bakugou’s plan got erased immediately, again. Everything about him and his demeanor slackened in Deku’s presence and he simply stood there, frozen.

Deku pushed himself off the wall to step back from Bakugou, only a slight bit of determination glinting from his eyes mixed in with the gloom he was pushing down.

“Kacchan, you have to tell me what’s wrong,” Deku started calmly, despite the look in his eyes.

He’d done it again.

They were supposed to have been well passed this already.

Deku values his friendships, and Bakugou knew more than anyone else how much that annoyingly dangerous passion outreached, he was foolish to assume Deku would only be angry with him.

Because Deku’s never been like that, Deku’s never kept up long enough to only be angry, not with him, not with anyone and Bakugou should have known better.

But in the face of Deku’s emotions like this, once again his heart began to mirror his own, and Bakugou felt an uncontrollable amount of guilt rush over him.

Not over not telling Deku, not over avoiding him, but for just not being unfront with himself fucking again about Deku.

Deku wasn’t the one doing this to him, he had been doing this to himself, and it was going to inevitability intertwined with Deku no matter how much he tried to leave it, no matter how much he tried to avoid it.

Their feelings had always been inevitably connected like this.

And he had to get over it.

He had to accept it here in it's fullest form.

He took a step forward, and Deku took a step back.

“Kacchan.” Deku started sternly.

“Please,” Kacchan replied fast and flat glaring the boy standing off with him in the eyes, and Deku taken only slightly aback by the vague desperation, let his guard down just a bit to let Bakugou make his way forward.

Words weren’t going to work, he was messy with those, the intimacy and carefulness of the language always managed to miss him, and he couldn’t trust his own heart to say what he felt, so instead he moved forward.

Getting eye to eye with deku, he only looked down slightly. The boy wasn’t that much shorter than him, but enough so that he had to lean forward and down enough to make this comfortable.

“Kacchan?” Deku whispered.

Wordlessly, Bakugou let his arms go past Deku’s waist to wrap around the bottom of his back, biting his lip Bakugou dragged Deku into his chest and embraced him into a tight hug.

Deku shocked, didn’t know where to place his hands for a moment, and Bakugou shakingly buried his face into the crook of Deku’s neck so his eyes couldn’t be shown.

Deku finally resigned to placing his hands lightly on Bakugou’s back, using one to pat him gently.

“I missed you too,” Deku whispered, causing a shiver to run down Bakugou’s spine, “but this still isn’t explaining anything,”

Bakugou huffed and tightened his hold.

“Stop me,” Bakugou muttered into Deku’s shoulder.

“Hm?” Deku questioned, now lowering his hands down Bakugou’s back for a more casual hold.

“Do that thing you do where you call me an idiot, tell me this is stupid,”

“I still don’t know what it is Kacchan,” Deku replied, a little bit of the irritation returning, “you’re a dumbass, but you still need to tell me so I can tell you all the reasons why,”

Bakugou huffed a small laughter in Deku’s shoulder at his response, and they stood silent embraced in the hug for a long period of silence before Bakugou finally began shifting.

He loosened his grip slightly to give himself room, and while continuing to avoid Deku’s gaze, he pressed a small kiss to Deku’s jawline before immediately retreating into the hug tightening his grip, causing Deku to puff out a slight bit of air.

“O-oh.” Deku huffed.

“Shit, fuck, goddammit!” Bakugou spat curses into Deku’s shoulder regretting the action.

There was a longer silence, neither boy had broken from the hug.

Deku pat Bakugou’s back twice.

Pity, of course, he should have known that was coming, fucking Deku alwa-

Deku pat his back three more times, a little harder than last time.

What was he trying to be encouraging now? Like Bakugou needed to be reassured his ugly feelings were okay or someshit? Why didn’t he just-

Deku was now frantically patting Bakugou’s back to a point where it was starting to actually kind of fucking sting.

Irritated, Bakugou broke from his hiding place in Deku’s shoulder to meet with Deku face to face.

“DEKU, what the fuck are y-,”

Bakugou was interrupted by a foreign press of lips on his, rough and unaimed, but enough to get his eyes wide as the attacker leaned back from the kiss with the fire in his eyes that he had been searching for earlier.

“Are you kidding me?!” Deku screamed in Bakugou’s face.

Bakugou was a little dumbfounded by the action to reply properly, did… Deku just…

“Uh…” Bakugou groaned dazed, hands hanging lazily over Deku’s waist now.

Deku moved the hands that were wrapped around Bakugou’s back to roughly cup both of Bakugou’s cheeks in his palms.

“You idiot!”

Deku kissed Bakugou roughly again a little more aimed and calculated, holding a little longer, before breaking apart again with an irritated grunt.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all this time?” he hissed, “You’re terrible!”

Everything was still moving a little too fast.

“Did… what the fuck did you just…”

Deku groaned exasperatedly and pressed roughly feathered kisses all over Bakugou’s face, they got softer and softer with each press of lips to skin before Deku slowly relaxed on his own and pulled back, dropping his hands from Bakugou’s face to his back again, pulling himself into Bakugou’s chest for another tight embrace.

“Me too…Kacchan,” Deku murmured, the irritation still scrunched in his eyebrows but a new softness showing in his eyes.

Bakugou was coming out of his daze enough to process that statement, and in a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the boy back from the hug and looked seriously at Deku in his eyes.

“You...ah shit," he to a second to catch himself, "you...like me?”

“And you like me?” Deku immediately retaliated, not letting Bakugou turn the responsibility of answering first on him.

Bakugou took in a breath before answering in a whisper, “...yeah,”

Deku sighed tiredly.

“Good, me too,” Deku grunted giving Bakugou a small peck on the nose, “I thought it was pretty obvious but for some reason you need these confessions spelled out to you,”

He finished that last sentence with a fake laugh, and Bakugou felt his heart beat again at the sound of even a hint of the boy’s laughter despite it's ingenuity. A mix of the fondness, irritation, frustration and longing that had all existed and were building up in the months came pouring over him and he tightened his grip on Deku, pulling him close again.

Obvious? Bullshit, this asshole wasn’t obvious about anything in his heart, he was enigma, a completely incomprehensible tool, how dare he?

“Shut the fuck up, I’ve been fucking suffering, you weren’t obvious, you piece of shit, you fuckface, stupid Deku,” Bakugou finished his sentence doubling on Deku’s prior action and kissing the him on the lips. Maybe a little rougher than Deku had, so much so it had the boy leaning backwards into Bakugou’s tight grip.

The frown that had been across Deku’s face turned into an uncontrollable smile as Bakugou let the kiss linger, but needing to breathe he started slapping at Bakugou’s back again.

“Kacchan!” he laughed against Bakugou’s lips, “Off, off!”

At that, Bakugou slowly and hesitantly pulled off, not realizing he practically had the other boy caught in something of a dip in his arms.

They looked at each other like that for a minute, taking in the look of each other’s faces.

Bakugou’s eyes were jaded but wide, as though he had dispelled every emotion he had into that one kiss and was in the process of recharging for the next one.

Deku on the other hand, had just got finished laughing and was smiling up at Bakugou with a gleam and fondness that Bakugou had never seen before. It was new look to be added to the book of things that made Bakugou lose all the strength in his heart and it got tattooed it in his brain as a permanent sight like everything else with Deku did.

However, while the smile remained the look in Deku’s eyes began turning sad again.

“I wish you talked to me,” he cracked.

“Oh…,” Bakugou breathed, realizing the source of the original issue came from him again and he punched himself mentally, “I…fuck…I,”

Bakugou danced around for the right words, there was an easier way to say just “Im sorry” but instead he opted for the way more complicated route.

“I fucked up,” he groaned, looking away, “I fucked up…because I was weak and…,”

Despite himself, Bakugou looked back at Deku from the corner of his eyes to see the boy has lost the smile and was contorting his look to annoyance again before even letting Bakugou finish his sentence.

“It was because I was fucking weak,” Bakugou reemphasized just as annoyed that Deku was looking at him sideways, “and I didn’t tackle it head on when I should have, but I don’t make the same mistake fucking twice so,”

He lifted Deku from the tilt in his arms and looked him in the eye as he finished with a promise,

“I’ll get stronger,”

Deku twitched his lip looking a bit exhausted and unsatisfied with the response, before his eyes seemed to glimmer with some type of understanding and it all finally molded itself into a smile.

“Everything’s a different kind of battle to you isn’t it?”

“Yeah and you’re my worst enemy,” Bakugou spat back, putting his forehead to Deku’s roughly and closing his eyes, “fucking exhausting, fucking stupid,”

Deku returned the gesture by leaning into the touch a bit more softly, and sighing with a laugh.

“Yeah, and I guess you’re just my idiot, so it works out in the end.”

---

“I’m sorry, by the way,” Deku started as they trudged back to the dorms hand in hand.

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” Bakugou replied, meaning to sound a little more aggressive and irritated by the question but he was still a little drunk off the scene in the hallway.

“Well… I think All Might may have put Aizawa-sensei up to this…haha…” Deku continued nervously tensing his grip on Bakugou’s hand, “I was really kinda um…mad?”

“Wow, really? Couldn’t fucking tell from the way you almost ate my face,”

“I wasn’t that mad then,”

“Well you looked like you wanted to throw that chair at me earlier,”

“Uhm,” Deku coughed into his hand changing the banter subject from the chair, “Anyways, I kind of vented to him because it was effecting my training a bit and he noticed,”

Bakugou felt a little drop in his chest at the thought that Deku may have been disappointing All Might with his work ethic over Bakugou’s hissy fit.

“I accidentally broke like 10 punching bags in one session, All Might looked a little terrified,” Deku laughed.

Bakugou imagined an infuriated Deku sending 100lb bags of dirt flying one by one and wouldn’t admit for a second that he probably would have been looking like All Might supposedly had been.

“So I really think he consulted Aizawa-sensei about it, which is why we were forced so suddenly,” Deku scratched under his chin with his free hand thoughtfully, “they seem to do that a lot, huh?”

“Those old men need to stay out of our fucking business,” Bakugou muttered.

“I guess so, but they kinda know best it looks like,” Deku mused leaning into Bakugou, “who knows how long you have taken on your own?”

“Be quiet, get off me,” Bakugou grunted leaning his head into Deku’s anyways.

Intertwined fingers, the sunset, the sound of the clinging gates, and all of the silence Bakugou had dreaded before was now draping over him comfortably with Deku by his side again, closer even so.

Falling for Deku hadn’t been easy.

Getting here was rough. The misunderstandings, the stubbornness, having everything about who they were torn apart and blown up until they were left with nothing but the reality and its painful fire burning into their skin until someone finally gave in to turn and put it out. The details of that are gritty and long, but you already know that.

Yeah, even after all of that everything was a natural and simple transition.

Like the way Deku’s hand fit perfectly into his, the way they bounced off each other’s enthusiasm over the tiniest things, the way Deku looked at him, the way Deku kissed and held him.

Yeah, a long time of these kind of things went on before liking Deku became second nature to him, another instinct drilled into his very core before he knew it, the passion, the fire, the adrenaline, even the tenderness and care, he grew used to these things as an essential part of his life, as something he didn’t have to battle against or push away.

Bakugou could live with this.

So much so, that the thought one day the final barrier that existed between him and his feelings for Deku would finally come tumbling down.

The one thing he still feared, but did not deny.

The thought that, after some time he would be able to peg a word on his feelings for Deku with the intensity he truly felt, and put the weight of those feelings into a more attainable and accurate context than just a crush, than just liking him.

And whenever he heard the familiar annoying ass laugh, that familiar annoying ass smile, and that now familiar brush of fingers interlacing with his own, he thought that day just might come someday, and someday soon.

It just might.

#katsudeku #bakudeku #izukatsu #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #wolf writes

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