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yelena-bellova · 3 years

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Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Nine

chapter eight - Chapter Nine: The Soldier and the Mutant - chapter ten

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n deals with the new knowledge about who her father truly was and receives a surprise visitor.

Warnings: angst, fluff, fluff, FLUFF, my gosh it’s nearly suffocating how much fluff, language, one allusion to sex, mentions of suicide, mentions of torture

Word Count: 10.1k

A/N: I’m just gonna let this one speak for itself, thanks for being so patient 😉

----

“HYDRA?”

“HYDRA…” I sighed.

Melanie and I were sat on her front porch, coffee cups in hand and revelations on our lips. I’d been home for two days and the shock of finding out about my father’s longstanding lie, while still fresh, was morphing into numbness. Being his daughter too, Mel needed to know the truth as well.

“This guy’s gotta be lying,” my sister waved a hand in front of her, “He has to be, he’s a criminal a-and he’s crazy.” “He’s not lying, Mels,” I held my head in my hand with my elbow resting on my chair, “I went online and scoured the internet, Dad’s name was listed in the HYDRA files leaked ten years ago.”

Mel leaned forward in her seat and hung her head, bracing her weight on her knees. My sister had always been a rock, unshakable even in the face of the worst circumstances. Even though she was keeping it together for my sake, I could see the well of emotions that would spring up once I was gone. “I can’t believe this,” she mumbled, shaking her head softly, “But looking back, it makes so much sense.” I furrowed my brows at her, “You wanna spell this one out for me?”

“Think about it,” she turned in her seat to face me, “Dad was wracked with guilt every day since he came home from the,” she set her mug down on the coffee table and made air quotes, “‘service.’ Nightmares and flashbacks and that awful depression…I mean, the man tore himself apart for what he’d done when he wasn’t passed out from drinking. He’d have had to do some pretty nasty things to feel that much guilt.” “Yeah, well, he should have felt guilty,” I grumbled, staring down at the coffee to hide the tears slowly forming in my eyes, “He hurt innocent people.”

“Wow…” she said quietly.

I sat forward in my seat, “Mom can never find about this, the shock could kill her. And as much as I feel like she should know who she was married to, I don’t think I can destroy another person’s image of Dad.” “No, I don’t think we should tell her either,” Mel agreed, taking a sip from her coffee, “I’m sorry enough that you had to find out. Wait,” she slapped a hand over my arm, “Does Bucky know? You said you and Sam were working with him.” I had done my best to put Bucky out of my mind for the past two days, failing spectacularly. I had gotten so used to him being by my side the past week that once he was gone, it felt like something was missing. Never mind the way I’d left him, those blue eyes begging me not to shut him out, the very same thing I’d asked him not to do. I had to remind myself at least ten times a day that removing myself from his life was for his good.

“Yeah, he knows,” I looked back down at my lap, squeezing the coffee mug so tight, I thought it might shatter. Mel threw her hands out to their sides, “And?”

“And he knows,” I replied, knowing that wouldn’t be a good enough answer for her. “So this guy finds out that our dad tortured him for years and he’s been running around Europe with his daughter and he had no reaction? What are you not telling me?” “Mel, what do you want me to say?” I snapped my head up, “He was there when Zemo told me and he’s not with me now, there’s nothing more to tell…"

I may have been a mutant, but sometimes I wished I’d have gotten my sister’s detective skills instead. She could take one look at a person and go Sherlock Holmes on their ass before they knew what hit them. It was one of the reasons she’d made such a good psychologist before becoming a stay-at-home mom.

Mel inhaled sharply and her eyes widened, “Oh my gosh, do you-“ “Don’t say it,” I held up a hand and forcefully pressed my eyes shut, a few teardrops squeezing out onto my eyelashes, “Please don’t say it.” As requested, she fell silent, her hand slipping onto my shoulder and rubbing small circles. I trained my eyes ahead of me, focusing on the last remnants of the morning’s sunrise. I’d always loved getting up early enough to watch the light spread across the sky, giving me hope that whatever pain I was feeling was only temporary. I found no such comfort gazing at the spectacle in my current state.

“It’s better this way,” I said, not able to look at her lest she see my contradictory eyes, “Trust me.” “Well,” Mel sighed loudly, “You’re the one that knows the guy…Just promise me one thing?” “Hmm?” She pulled one of my hands out of the death grip I had on my cup and took it into one of hers, “This is huge news, life-shattering, and we’re allowed to process it however we need to. But I see that look in your eyes, none of this is on you. Don’t blame yourself for what Dad did to him.” And if Mel had spent the time I had with Bucky, watched him in the bar in Madripoor, been in the therapy session with him, seen his reaction to losing his arm in Riga, I knew she’d feel different. I had a front row seat to Bucky’s PTSD and my father had been the ringleader. How could I not feel a little responsible? ——

Sam, Sarah and I had talked the boat situation over the morning before. The offer that Sarah had received from the guy who had been interested before Sam returned home had fallen through, he’d cited the reason as that it would take more money to fix than it was worth. Ever the hero, Sam had phoned everyone in the community who had known his parents and called in as many favors as he could. As I pulled up to the docks, ready to roll up my sleeves and begin working, I was delightfully surprised at how many people had responded. There were at least a dozen sets of helping hands waiting to work. It was moments like these that reminded me how lucky I was to live in such a close knit community.

I weaved through people, greeting and thanking everyone for coming out as I made my way to the boat. “Black Falcon to the rescue again, huh?” I called out to Sam as I climbed aboard, he was standing at the bow of the ship next to somebody whose back was turned to me. “You know it,” Sam called back, turning around and facing me, along with the man who he’d been in conversation with.

It was Bucky.

My heart stopped and I froze in my tracks, adrenaline shooting through my veins. Our eyes met across the deck and we may as well have been back in Sokovia. There was the same pain threaded through his ocean blue eyes only enhanced by the fear reflecting in mine. I wanted to run to him and away from him all at once, but knew which instinct needed to be listened to.

I looked to Sam and faked a hopefully convincing smile, “I’ll be below deck.” Hurriedly, I hauled my ass across the deck and raced down the steps. My hands flew to cover my nose and mouth as my breathing increased. He was here, he couldn’t be here, why was he here? Any progress I’d made, however small, in trying to put Bucky to rest had been revived the second I saw his face.

“You wanna explain what that was?” I looked up to see Sam stepping off the final stair and crossing his arms in front of me, “One day you’re friends and the next you bolt outta the room when you see the guy?” “Just,” I strained, stopping to take as soothing a breath as I was capable of and straightening my posture, “Keep me where he isn’t.” Sam sighed, reading me all too well, “Y/n, if this is about your dad, there’s noth-“ “Now what needs to be done down here?” I interrupted, placing my hands on my hips and hoping that if I projected confidence, I’d start to feel it.

“Fine,” Sam conceded to my wishes and gestured to the engine we were standing next to, “Check the zincs. If you need to replace ‘em, we’ll have to run down to Joe’s. And just so you know,” he stood at the steps and pointed between me and where Bucky most likely stood above us, “I don’t agree with this.” I shook my head to shake myself out of the moment as he left me to my work, blissfully hidden from the person I wanted to be with most.

——

I had never experienced a more uncomfortable day.

For the entire morning and afternoon, it was like switching a light on and off. If Bucky came below deck to fix something, I filed out as quick as I could to work above deck. We didn’t interact more than when we passed each other once in a while, each brush of shoulder sending a jolt of electricity through me. Sam had been no help either, he’d prevented me from making the necessary run to the hardware store or helping Sarah with lunch. He was determined to try and quarantine me and Bucky on the boat, most likely in hopes that my resolve would weaken. No matter how much it was killing me, I kept my distance and my head down as we made repairs in awkward silence.

When the sun began to set over the waters and there was nothing left to be done for the day, I carefully made my way up the stairs and listened for voices. When I heard none close by, I took quick steps across the deck and hopped off the boat onto the dock. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see if Bucky, who was stealthy enough to sneak up on anyone, was behind me and kept on my path to the outdoor kitchen area Sarah was closing up. “Good day?” I asked, grabbing an extra rag to try and get the oil off my hands from working on the engine.

“Better than you,” she retorted, “You’ve had that sour look on your face since you got here.” “Just,” I sighed and stopped my rigorous rubbing for a second, “Still thinking about everything…” Stopping her cleaning while I resumed mine, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and leaned her head against mine. Out of Sam, Melanie, myself and her, Sarah was the most removed from the situation. My dad hadn’t interacted much with the Wilsons, he hadn’t interacted with hardly anyone outside of his family, so Sarah didn’t have many memories with him nor had she fought HYDRA. It was actually nice to be around someone who didn’t have his dirty deeds bouncing around their head like an old school Microsoft screensaver.

“You,” she pressed a kiss to the side of my head, “Are one of the best human beings I know and nothing can change that, not even this.” Starting the argument that this revelation did in fact change a lot of things would be useless, I knew better than to try and prove Sarah wrong. I simply patted her arm and leaned into her embrace, taking the comfort I could get even if I didn’t necessarily deserve it.

“By the way,” she said as she unwrapped her arms, “Sam invited Bucky to stay the night.” My stomach dropped, “WHAT?” “He was gonna go find a hotel room but that’s ridiculous when he can just crash on the couch,” Sarah shrugged, wiping off the counter once again. “Why?” I pressed my hands to my mouth in a praying position, “Why could you not be an angel who has to help everybody, just this once?”

Sarah turned to face me, placing on hand on her hip, “The guy saved your ass from being killed and ran you to the hospital,” I opened my mouth to ask her how she knew that, she held up a finger to me, “Sam told me all about Riga. It’s the least we can do for him. And don’t even think about running to Mel’s place for the night, you promised the boys you’d take them to school tomorrow morning.” I stood there, nervously wringing the cloth through my hands as Sarah walked away to finish up another task before night fell. All my efforts to keep away from Bucky were failing and it wasn’t due to anything on my part. How was I supposed to protect him if we were constantly around each other? As I looked out to the deck of the boat, I could see Sam and Bucky had winded up there drinking beers to celebrate their long day of work. It was a scene that only days ago, I could have easily slipped into. I didn’t just miss Bucky, I missed the dynamic the three of us had grown to have. Sam would have pressed a beer into my hand and lightheartedly elbowed me, I’d have settled down next to Bucky whose hand would have naturally drifted to the small of my back…It would have been a perfect end to the day. Instead, I was cursing my father for ever having dipped a toe in HYDRA’s pool, his decision had ruined my life.

——

I had two vendettas, one with Sam for inviting Bucky to stay and one with my quickly drying throat that begged for water.

Laying in bed with my pillow smashed across my face, I peeked one eye out to check my alarm clock. 1:29AM. I’d laid in the same position for an hour, hoping that sleep took me over and my thirst would die till the morning. The family had been asleep for hours and with the amount of work Sam and him did, Bucky should have been passed out too. If I pulled it off just right, I could sneak downstairs to grab a bottle of water and get out before he ever stirred. Waking an ex-assassin wouldn’t be good for either of us.

I tiptoed out of my room, mindful of the creaking door as I passed AJ and Cass’ bedroom. Once I got to the stairs, I chose a silent approach and used my energy to float my way down the steps. I continued doing so through the kitchen, sneaking a peek over to the couch to see Bucky sound asleep. I opened up the fridge quietly and reached in blindly, feeling around till I hit a bottle and pulling it out. Tucking the bottle under my arm, I placed my hands back at my side and began to let the energy lift me.

“You do know I can hear you, right?” The familiar voice startled me, causing me to absorb the energy back into my palms quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration before turning to see Bucky, laying in the same position I’d found him in with his lids still shut. “Forgot,” I said, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in my voice, “Super soldier.”

Flipping the blanket Sarah had given to him off his body, he swung his long legs off the couch and sat up to face me. It truly wasn’t fair how good he looked even in the middle of the night, the moonlight coming through the windows and highlighting his silhouette. Admiring his profile was the only thing making the uncomfortable silence semi-bearable.

“We need to talk,” he started. “We really don��t,” I hurriedly replied, starting to rotate my body to flee. Bucky stood up, the couch creaking in relief as he did, “Yes, we do. You left so fast the other day I couldn’t get two words in.” “Because you didn’t need to,” I said from my place in the kitchen, “There’s nothing you can say to make any of this better and you shouldn’t. In fact, you should hate me.” He raised a tired eyebrow, “Hate you?”

“Yes,” I said, a little louder, “Hate me for what my father did to you, hate me for being his daughter. I hate me right now, I don’t understand why you don’t.” “Because there’s nothing to hate,” Bucky chuckled softly, “You of all people have given me the least to hate.” “Bucky, of all people you should hate me the most,” I said firmly, setting the forgotten bottle on the counter, “We travel the world all week and then you find out I’m the daughter of the man whose job was to hook you up to machines an-and torture you all day. That’s the man who I drew pictures of and kissed every night before bed and thought was the greatest person to ever walk the fucking planet,” I spread my arms out to accentuate the point, “That man is one of the reasons for all that pain seeping out of you. And guess what? I’m him. I’m literally his flesh and blood! So go ahead, hate me! You have every right to, and it would make this all so much easier if you did.” “Make what easier? Ignoring each other?” Bucky crossed his arms over his broad chest, “I don’t want to do that.” I knew he wasn’t going to let it go, I had only one decent shot at ending the conversation and I needed to take it, even if it broke my heart. “Well, it’s what I want,” I picked up the bottle again, trying to pretend I was as confidant in my decision to walk away as my words were.

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Bucky said, the tiniest smirk appearing on his lips, something I always found cute but now found annoying.

It may have been the biggest lie I’d ever told in my entire life, but it was also truth. I wanted to leave Bucky before he inevitably left me. “No, it’s not,” I said, my voice threatening to tremble as I used it. “You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that?” I hadn’t dared to make too much contact with those wild eyes that I’d fallen for, I’d only give in all the quicker and let his grace draw me straight into his arms. He’d called my bluff, knowing that lying to him was easy when I didn’t actually have to see him and that I couldn’t continue the charade if that changed. As I dragged my eyes up to meet his, the tears I’d been fighting back began to come forward. He looked broken and whole at the sight of me, exactly how I felt.

“What do you want me to say, Bucky?” I whispered, my throat closing with emotion.

“I want you to tell me, to my face,” he paused, drawing a shallow breath, “That I’m crazy and that I read every signal wrong.” It would have been less painful if he’d sucker punched me with his left hand, I’d have actually preferred it. It had taken everything in me to tell just one lie, I couldn’t do it again to either one of us. But I also couldn’t succumb to my feelings. “Bucky…” I shakily began, clenching my fists at their sides.

“Because you’ve been living in my head pretty much since the minute I met you, and I don’t wanna sweep this week under the rug like it was nothing,” Bucky made a sweeping motion with his hand, “I don’t think I can.” “Bucky, we can’t…I can’t do that to you.” “Do what?” he asked confusedly, squinting his eyes as if he couldn’t see the issue. “I don’t want to hurt you!” I snapped, allowing the tears to break free of their restraints and shed themselves, “There’s going to come a day where every memory of what he put you through is going to be blamed on me and I can’t wait for the day where you wake up and look at me like I’m the monster my father was. I can’t have a little of you, Bucky, and then lose you entirely.” My cheeks were wet with my guilt, I made no effort to dry them or cease their streams. I stood there on the edge of where the kitchen met the living room staring at the man who held my heart, trying to pry it from his hands to no avail. Bucky looked just as surprised by the revelation as I’d been when it flew from my lips without any opposition from my head.

“What did you say to me in Riga?” he whispered, his voice raising slightly to try and emphasize the point he was about to make, “’I don’t believe that any part of you is capable of me?’ ‘That’s not who you really are?’” he echoed my sentiments from days ago, “You’re not him. If I believed there was any of him in you, I wouldn’t be standing here begging you to stop beating yourself up about this.” He took a step forward, waiting to see if I walked away but I was too focused on him to think about running. He continued coming forward, “Y/n, I can’t walk away from this like you mean nothing to me. You’re the first person I’ve met that sees me as Bucky Barnes before anything else. I gave you every reason to write me off and you didn’t give up on me,” he paused, swallowing harshly as he stopped in front of me, “When I’m with you, I feel safe for the first time in a long time. There’s never gonna come a day where I stop lookin’ at you like you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

There were mere inches left between us, the words I had been dying to hear were now mine for the taking and I was too paralyzed with shock to react. Of course he had to come and hit me with my own affirmations, making perfect sense. The side of my mind that believed I didn’t deserve this happiness was screaming that these feelings would fade, that my father’s sins would always be at the forefront of us. The other side that wanted nothing more than to reach out and close the distance between us was telling me to believe him and let myself be cared for, something I’d always believed I was too broken for. And somehow they were both drowned out by the excitement I felt with Bucky in such close proximity, staring down at me with those cerulean pools, infused with the darkness that sent a chill down my spine. There was a palpable change in the air, from emotional to the great and grand something we finally near naming. Every part of me wanted to reach out and take him for for myself, to kiss him and pull him so close that there was no telling where I began and he ended. If there was a chance for me to back out, it was now. I could run to my room, to my car, anywhere that he wasn’t. But at the end of the day, that wasn’t what I wanted. I could either let myself be held captive by crimes I’d never committed, or I could dedicate myself to loving the man who the universe had somehow tied me to long ago.

“Tell me to stop,” Bucky said, his voice hitting that low timbre that made goosebumps break out across my skin.

I couldn’t deny either one of us any longer.

Bucky took a step towards me, his eyes never leaving mine as I backed to accommodate him and his plans. A small gasp left me as my back hit the kitchen wall, my hands reaching back to press against it to try and find purchase on something. There was now only a breath’s width of space left between Bucky and I, our shared air growing more and more heated as we bathed in the anticipation of the moment. His eyes flicked between my y/e/c ones and my lips, looking for any signs of hesitation that didn’t exist. He placed a finger under my chin to tilt my head to his liking, pausing to take in the sight of my tear streaked face in the last seconds before we let loose the storm that had been brewing inside us both. I took the time to admire the wonder on his face, the two of us his newest discovery in a world he had long been asleep to.

He leaned in and our lips finally touched, euphorically.

I found myself unable to move, overwhelmed by the sensation I’d wanted to feel since our dance in Madripoor. Bucky didn’t overstep his bounds, he kept our mouths softly connected as we absorbed each other. When he disconnected our lips, whether to repeat the act or pull away, my body snapped into action and my hands flew to his neck, pulling him back down to me. Our lips didn’t fight for dominance so much as they did try and take in as much of each other as they could. Bucky’s hand slipped from my chin and both fell to my hips, pulling me flush against his body. On his tongue, I could taste the remnants of however many beers he’d shared with Sam, they’d stayed on the boat till the first evening stars started to appear. The scent of him, freshly showered after a long day of work, invaded my senses and spurred me on further, my hands moving to fist the back of his blue henley. With our kisses becoming more fervent, Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around my hips and lifted me so effortlessly, it only made the moment more heated. I wound my legs around his waist and let him carry me to wherever he desired, him easily supporting my weight and never disconnecting our lips as he fell to the couch. My hands snaked up his back to thread themselves through the short brown locks, causing him to pull away with a soft moan before diving back into my mouth. His flesh hand took hold of the back of my head and pushed me further into the kiss, trying to taste as much of me as he could. This. This was what I had been craving since the moment I’d realized I was far more starved of Bucky’s touch than I’d thought I’d been. The delightful friction our bodies created, the pressure of our lips dancing together, the knowledge that I was just as much his as he was mine. No more questioning, no more stolen moments wondering what could have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. This was whole and perfect and right.

Eventually, the second long breaks we took for became insufficient and we needed to part for longer. Bucky looked gorgeously spent, his half lidded eyes following me, his lips deliciously swollen and his hair messed up from where my hands had been. I smiled as I dragged my hands to his cheek and ran my thumb over his plump lower lip, bringing a lopsided grin to his face. There was a joy I hadn’t seen him express yet and my stomach flipped knowing that I was the one to bring it in him.

“Don’t leave,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of our passion, “Please.” In my palms, I held one of the world’s most deadly men, someone whose reputation had consisted of how ruthless a killer he’d once been. And here he was, warm and soft and begging me not to go. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, delighting in how his eyes brightened at hearing my words. Contrasting the intensity of the minutes before, I leaned in and brushed my lips against Bucky’s with as little pressure as I could. He chased them the second I pulled away, eliciting a giggle out of me that he swallowed, kissing me so lovingly it almost broke my heart. He inhaled me like I was oxygen and he’d been deprived far too long. It didn’t occur to me that there was a chance I was his first kiss since before he shipped out in the ’40’s. “I don’t wanna stop,” he mumbled against my lips. “Then don’t,” I replied, breathing in his soft exhales, “We’ll stay up all night doing this.” Bucky chuckled, pulling away from my mouth to turn his head and press tender kisses to the palm I’d been cradling his cheek in. He tugged me closer then, my hands winding around his shoulders and his face burying itself in my neck. My laugh at the sensation of his scruff quickly morphed to a moan as he planted drawn out kisses against every inch of the bruises our encounter with Walker in Riga had left me with. I extended my neck to give him better access, feeling his lips twist in a wicked grin as his ministrations caused my breathing to quicken. “Okay, if you keep doing this,” I gasped, trying to steady my voice, “We’re gonna be up all night doing something else.” He pecked the column of my neck once more before pulling his head out and facing me, still smiling. I pressed my forehead to his and he nuzzled his nose against mine, still desperate to keep any contact he could.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Bucky confessed, rubbing his metal hand up and down my back, “Thought about it in Riga, when we were fighting, in the alleyway…”

“Me too,” I agreed, grinning uncontrollably, “But you know why I’m glad it didn’t happen till now?” Bucky hummed questioningly, “Because this is the longest we’ve been together without someone interrupting us.”

Bucky chortled loud enough for me to feel the need to cover his mouth, causing me to laugh myself. I never thought that there would come a day where the two of us would be sitting on my couch in the middle of the night, as lighthearted as could be. This was a slice of heaven after all that we’d been through. “Do you believe me now when I say my opinion of you is never gonna change?” Bucky asked. Had he not proven to me that it was true, I wouldn’t have believed it. I’d have punished the both of us for the rest of my life. “As long as you believe me when I say that I know you’ll never hurt me.” I knew that there was so many layers to his pain, most that I would never understand, but he couldn’t keep a part of himself hidden forever. If we were going to do this, we were going do it wholeheartedly, taking the best and the worst parts of each other. The unlovable would never go unloved as long as we were together.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, tightening the arm around my waist and bringing the other to my face, “Okay.” He pulled me down to press his lips to each of my cheeks, landing one last one to my mouth.

Our kisses became longer and softer, signaling that though we were both eager to explore this new territory, exhaustion was running the show. We eventually slowed down to where Bucky’s face rested in the juncture where my neck met my shoulder while my head rested against his, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and a hand running through his hair. My lips laid featherlight kisses against his temple every few minutes, taking advantage of the fact that I could do so freely now. I could feel his hot breath hit my skin at such a leisurely pace that if it hadn’t have been for his metal thumb rubbing my waist every once in a while, I’d have thought he’d fallen asleep. Eventually, when my eyelids began to shut against my will, Bucky shifted on the couch to lay both of us down. I settled naturally on top of him, my head against his chest and a hand resting on each of his broad shoulders. Just when I thought in my drowsy haze that nothing could make the moment any more perfect, Bucky pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of my head and tightened his arms around my back, securing my body to his.

This was peace.

This was right.

This was what we deserved.

——

At the sound of hushed voices and grunts, my eyes slowly opened. I blinked a few times and made out the sight of my nephews, AJ throwing punches and Cass deflecting them with the shield that had laid in the hallway for days. After days spent witnessing some of the worst the world had to offer, this was the purity that I needed to see.

“Bucky…” I whispered, he inhaled sharply as he awoke with one arm slung over my waist and the other hung over the edge of the couch. I tapped his chest and pointed to my nephews, still oblivious to our presence.

“Hey,” Bucky called, his morning voice rougher than it was the rest of the day.

The boys jumped at the sound, Cass shoving the shield back in its case and him and AJ running as soon as it hit the ground with mischievous smiles on their faces. I laughed softly, looking up to see Bucky lazily smiling. I had the best view in the world, close enough to see the lines that drew his grin up, so different from the frowning ones I was so used to seeing. When he tilted his head down and our eyes met, his smile made no effort to lessen itself.

“Morning,” he said, bringing a hand up to stroke the top of my head.

“Morning,” I replied, shimmying up his body and taking hold of his cheeks, our lips meeting in early morning bliss, “We’re in deep shit.” “Why’s that?” he asked.

“The boys can’t keep a secret to save their lives,” I chuckled, “So you need to enjoy your last day alive because Sam is going to kill you.” Bucky wrinkled his nose as he laughed, “Thanks for the warning.” I dropped my head back to his chest, picking up one of his dog tags in my hand and reading his name pressed in the metal. I’d never been a big believer in fate, but as I rubbed a thumb over the necklace I was reminded that Bucky and I should have never met. He should have been long gone by now, Captain America’s childhood friend who met a tragic end before he could see the war won. He wasn’t supposed to be here, warming my body with his and pressing the sweetest kisses I’d ever known to my skin. Our being together defied time itself.

“Seeing them, the boys…” Bucky began, still stroking my hair, “I think I get what you and Sam were talking about back in Maryland.”

I rested my chin on his pec to see him, his gaze focused on the ceiling in deep thought. “Steve giving him the shield…It’s not the same at all.”

I shook my head, sadly, giving confirmation to his revelation. I didn’t begrudge him for not understanding right away, unless you were in Sam’s shoes you could only have so much of an understanding. The unrelenting way that Bucky had pushed him was what had caused me to call him out on several occasions. But if the week we’d had with our confrontation with the police, meeting Isaiah and coming to Delacroix had finally shown him the flaw in his thinking, I was glad. “I think you should talk to him,” I suggested. He scoffed, “I think I owe him a lot more than that.

“Well, he’s probably already out on the boat. And I,” I groaned as I sat up, straddling Bucky’s hips, “Promised the boys that I’d take them to school so we both need to get up.” Bucky made a similar sound as he swung his legs over the couch, pivoting my body so that we were in a similar position we’d been in in the middle of the night. He took my face in his hand and gave a kiss so long, I knew I’d feel the ghost of his lips until the next time I was able to feel the real thing. To think just hours before I’d been hellbent on convincing him that we couldn’t allow ourselves to act on our feelings. Here I was now struggling to let go of him to spend an hour apart at most.

The giggling on the other side of the wall broke the spell though.

Bucky and I broke apart with a shared smile. “See you in a bit,” I whispered, pressing my hands to his chest and pushing off of him to disappear around the corner.

After dressing for the day, I corralled the boys into my car. I could practically hear their predictable thoughts and feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I shut my door. “There’s donuts with both your names on them if you promise not to tell Uncle Sam what you saw this morning.”

A resounding chorus of enthusiastic ‘okays’ reminded me that I was the best aunt in the world who made the worst parenting decisions.

——

By nothing short of a miracle, Bucky was still alive when I returned.

We worked on the boat with familiar stolen glances and secret smirks when Sam had his back turned. At some point Sarah kicked the two of them off the boat for attempting to repair the water pump, something she’d been repairing and Bucky and I were forced to separate. As the two men departed the dock, he turned around to catch one last look at me and flashed the smile I’d seen more of in the last twelve hours than I had all week.

“You wanna tell me what changed from last night?” Sarah’s voice broke me out of the daze I was in.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at that man with googly eyes all day,” she climbed aboard the boat, “You’re also lucky that our brother is clueless.”

I rolled my eyes and bumped my hip against hers, “Freakin’ mom vision, can’t get anything past you.” “I’m just glad you got out of your own way, he seems like a good guy,” Sarah smiled, “He’s also fine as hell, if you haven’t noticed. If you wouldn’t have gone for it, I might have.” Our loud laughter mixed together as I whacked her with the towel I’d been using to clean an oil stain off of the boat.

Later that day, after finishing helping my sister with a few repairs we could get done without interruptions from Sam and Bucky, I wandered to our backyard to behold a sight I never thought I’d see. Sam was throwing the shield around while Bucky stood beside him. I stopped at the side of the house to watch, the Vibranium bouncing off of training pads from our garage that were strapped to the tree. Since Sam had brought the shield home six months ago, I’d never seen him do more than pick it up and look at it every once in a while. He’d kept it stored away in his bedroom in its casing, AJ and Cass hadn’t even seen it until he’d left it in the hall after returning from Maryland. To see him wielding it now felt…right. He looked just as natural with it as Steve had. Bucky had made a 180 as well, he looked content watching Sam as he caught the shield in its return journey back to them. If I hadn’t watched them bicker like schoolchildren for the better portion of the week, I’d have mistaken them for friends. “Are you telling me that you two could’ve man-hugged it out back in that interrogation room?” I shouted as I watched them clasp hands and pull each other in, “Coulda spared yourselves a lot of discomfort.”

They both laughed and turned to face me, in an effort to save time as I made my way out to where they stood. “So what’s new?” I asked with a knowing smile, eyeing Sam as he held the shield at his side

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied, “And a little bit of everything.”

I chuckled before my eyes inevitably found Bucky’s, who was already waiting for me with an outstretched palm. “Can I talk to you a minute?” “Yeah,” I reached out and intwined our fingers. “Whoa! Wait, wait, wait,” Sam boomed, gesturing to our locked hands, “What the hell is this?”

“Something new,” I shrugged, looking up and matching Bucky’s smile.

Sam groaned in disgust, “You’ve been here twenty four hours, Barnes, you couldn’t’ve kept your hands off my sister? I-I can’t even look at this, it’s sickening, ugh…” he turned his back to us and began his walk back to the house, spinning around quickly and stuttering, “You know what? I-“ he closed his mouth and shook his head, “Uh-uh, nope, can’t do it.” Bucky and I both snorted as we watched him leave, voicing his displeasure to himself. I looked down and noticed the packed duffle bag that rested at Bucky’s feet, “I get the feeling there’s something you need to tell me?” He sighed, reaching blindly to weave his fingers with my other hand’s set. “There’s something I gotta go do. A couple somethings actually. I talked to Sam, or at least he talked to me,” one corner of his mouth quirked up, “This whole making amends thing, I haven’t been doing the greatest job of it. There’s too many names in that book that don’t have closure about what happened to someone they loved. If I stand a chance at putting what happened in the past, I gotta go ‘do the work’.”

I rubbed my thumb over his smooth metal knuckle, staring down at the space between us. “Yeah, you do,” I looked up at him, “Recovery sucks, there’s no sophisticated way of putting it. Sam and I have both seen the ugly side of it. But you owe it to yourself to work as hard as you can for your freedom, as difficult as it can be sometimes.” Bucky leaned down to press his forehead against mine. “If it hadn’t’ve been for you, I might not have believed that. I wanna get better for you too, to try and be the man you deserve.”

I hummed and bit down on my bottom lip, smiling widely. “So…you kinda like me.” “Yeah,” Bucky chuckled softly, “Just a little bit.”

The warmth I felt radiating through me, brought on by nothing more than a touch of our hands and a shared smile powered me in a way my energy never could. “Go,” I said after a few seconds of silence, “Do whatever you need to do. I think there’s some things here that I need to take care of myself.” Bucky pulled back to look my face over as if to commit every inch to his memory before holding the back of my head and pressing a kiss to my lips. Perhaps it was cruel that I had just gotten him and now had to let him go for an undetermined period of time. But his recovery meant more to me than any amount of heart pounding touches or earth shattering kisses he could give. If we ever had a shot of making it, we needed to go to our separate corners and heal.

I hesitantly broke away from his lips first, rubbing mine together after to memorize the taste he’d left. “If I don’t let you go now, I won’t be able to…” “It won’t be forever,” he shook his head, bumping his nose against mine, “Sam’s gonna call me if he gets a lead on Karli.” Rather than keep him longer with my insecurities about jumping back into hero work now knowing who my father had truly been, I decided that dealing with that was for my personal healing. I reached my arms up to wind around his neck, his finding their new home around my waist and for a split second in time, nothing else mattered. There was just me, Bucky and the future I hoped we had ahead of us. I memorized the feel of him, the rise and fall of his chest against mine, his soft hair between my fingers, the scratch of his stubble against my neck. I hadn’t had time to daydream about Bucky since recognizing my feelings for him but even if I had, they’d have never done the real thing near justice.

“Stay safe, Sergeant,” I said, pulling back to peck his lips one last time and releasing him from my hold.

Bucky picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, giving my hand one more squeeze and holding it as he started to walk backwards. Once we reached a point where the only way to keep the contact was to follow him, we let go with a brush of our fingers till I was only holding air. With a final shared look, he turned his back to me and started down the dirt path that would lead him from our corner of Louisiana to the rest of the world. In so many ways I felt as if we’d traveled back to 1943 when he’d shipped out for England. I was sending him off to another war, this time battling his own past. Above any other feeling I felt for Bucky, the one that topped the list was belief. I believed in him more than he believed in himself and I wanted that to change. He could do it and once he did, there was no telling just how happy we could be.

But I in turn had to deal with my own demons.

——

While I wish I could have said I had a plan like Bucky’s, I had no idea what the first step was to healing past what my father had done.

HYDRA wasn’t a topic that I could just plop down on a therapist’s couch and start discussing, there were only so many people I could talk to about it. I found myself wishing that Steve was still around, next to Bucky he was the world’s leading expert on how much damage the organization could do. Without a blueprint of how to begin mending my wounds, I was left to wallow in my own grief over the man I’d believed my dad to be. Sam, however, was on fire.

After him, Sarah and I had made the unanimous decision that the boat was too important to our family to part with, he had launched into the most intense training I’d ever seen him put himself through. He was both blowing me away and not surprising me at all with his dedication.

One morning, I came outside at his normal time to come home from his 6AM run with a cup of coffee for me and a Gatorade for him. On cue, he came jogging up the dirt path I’d watched Bucky leave on days ago.

“You’re inhuman,” I said, tossing him the drink as he approached, “I’m convinced of it.” “It’s nothin’ you couldn’t be doing,” he panted.

“Yeah, I can run with you or I can get up before sunrise. A combo deal is not gonna happen,” I chortled before taking a sip of my coffee.

Sam joined me and sat down beside me on our back porch, the view of the blue waters a perfect accent to the almost fully risen sun. “Look, I don’t wanna know any details but…you and Bucky?”

I smiled as I stared down into my mug, just the thought of him causing happiness to bloom in my chest. “It was kinda happening the whole time, it just took us a while to realize it.” Sam groaned, taking a long swig of his drink. “That’s all I need to know, as long as you both are happy and not too disgusting with each other,” he looked out the corner of his eyes at me, “I think I can live with it.” “Well, that’s mighty big of you,” I patted his sweaty shoulder, instantly regretting the decision and wiping my palm on my bathrobe, “That shield starting to feel like it’s yours?” Sam chuckled, “It doesn’t feel like it’s not mine anymore, it’s…weird. Talking with Isaiah was sobering and he’s allowed to be as bitter as he wants. The man’s earned to right to feel anything after what he’s been through. But,” he sighed, “I couldn’t let it go. All that pain and suffering, I can’t let it go to waste.” “You couldn’t not be a hero even if you tried,” I shook my head in amazement, beaming with pride at my brother, “I’m proud of you.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” he hit my knee with the back of his hand, “I’ve got Torres working on some things, hopefully we can figure out where Karli might be going next-“ I couldn’t lead both him and Bucky to believe I was seriously considering going back to the fight. “I’m gonna stop you right there,” I held up a hand, “When you find them, it’s gonna be just you and Bucky. I’m out.” He furrowed his brows and twisted to face me fully, “Why?” “I can’t be the hero I thought I could, not after what I found out. It would only be a matter of time till somebody looked me up and figured out who my father was, then what? Some ex-HYDRA member comes looking for me? The public loses trust in me to protect them? Your reputation gets damaged when they realize I’m your sister?” I dropped my head down to stare at my lap, “It’s a bad idea. HYDRA doesn’t breed heroes.”

A beat of silence was played before my brother gave his rebuttal. “Look at me,” I dragged my eyes away from my engrossing coffee to him, “I couldn’t give two shits what people think about you being my sister, cause you know what? They don’t know you. They don’t know what you’ve done to try and stop the Flag Smashers, how you saved my life in that warehouse or how you helped keep our family going for five years. They don’t know how stubborn and caring and how much of a hero you are without your powers,” he paused and smirked at me, “And they’re never gonna know that if you don’t show them. What your dad did was horrible, but you’re not the one that did it. If you didn’t let his secret hold you back from being with Bucky, why’re you letting it hold you back from something else you want? You don’t need to be proud of being his daughter, but you need to make peace with it.”

He was right, as if he could ever be anything other than. Sam was counseling me like a sister but also like one of the countless veterans he’d helped wracked with guilt. I didn’t know if I’d ever fully recover from the hurt that came with the revelation, but if I kept on going how I was, I’d be a complete hypocrite. If Bucky could face the victims of his crimes and confess to them, I should’ve been able to deal with my ghosts. All I’d ever wanted to do was help people, to use that mutated gene of mine to help right wrongs. To do that, I needed to do the work. “This is a far cry from a few days ago when you were ready to send me packing,” I retorted. “Well,” Sam chuckled, “You proved me wrong. Fighting with you by my side just felt right, made me wish you could’ve been there for ‘em all.”

The fact that I had shown him that I could keep up with him was astounding, I honestly didn’t think it would ever happen. But with his approval, I’d have to have been an idiot to walk away from it all.

“Good talk,” I smiled, patting his leg while taking one last sip of my coffee before handing it to him.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Making peace with it.”

——

The drive from Delacroix to New Orleans had always relaxed me. The disappearance of the deep bayous as the scenery slowly changed to city, the ever present cypress trees, the hour travel time always gave me time to think. Something I was thankful for today especially.

I parked my car outside my destination, making the long trek through the cemetery I’d visited every week as a child. My feet automatically as I passed the neat rows of above ground tombs until I reached where I needed to be.

Keeping a safe distance away, I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and took a deep breath. “Hi,” I whispered, greeting my father’s tomb as if I expected it to speak back to me. “Um…I don’t know if you can hear me wherever you are but…there’s some things I need to talk to you about.” My eyes began to water, partially from the wind hitting my face but mostly from the tears that had been waiting to spring free. “Why’d you do it, Dad?” I whispered against the lump in my throat, “I don’t understand how you could ever have been a part of something so destructive. You were the last person I would have ever believed could have done something like this. You were my hero,” I looked down at the ground between us, “I never thought you’d end up being the villain.” I drew a shaky breath and continued, “I watched your guilt over your ‘time in the service’ tear you apart to a point where you thought death was the only way out so…I think it’s safe to assume you felt bad about what you’d done. I watched you every day try to be a good father to me and Mel, you didn’t succeed all the time but you did your best. I know you loved us…” “Somehow,” I dug the heel of my sneaker into my the dirt, “I’m trying to find it in me to forgive you, Dad. For the pain your secret’s brought me, for what your name could do to the rest of my life, for lying…But the one thing I don’t know how to forgive you for is what you did to Bucky,” the tears that I’d finally gotten under control threatened to start again, “Because Dad, he means the world to me and to know that you were behind that pain that’s running his life…It makes me want to hate you. And the saddest part is that I know you would have loved him if you’d ever gotten a chance to meet the real him.”

“The way I see it, I can’t undo the damage you did to the world,” my voice found its strength, “But what you did isn’t going to dictate what I do with my life. I’ve only ever wanted to do good, however I can, that’s what I’m going to do. I know that you wanted me to keep my powers hidden, probably because you didn’t want anyone to find me, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t pay the price for your sins. So I’m gonna fight and I’m gonna try to rewrite our family’s legacy.”

“Anyway, that’s, uh, that’s all I wanted to say,” I took a slow step forward and placed a hand over the stone tomb, “I wish…I wish things would have turned out different.”

With one last gaze upon my father’s final resting place, I left the same way I’d come, for once not having to fake the confidence I was feeling.

——

“Oh, oh, it’s going…” I teased.

“Give it back!” Sam yelled! “It’s going!”

“Y/n!”

I levitated the shield further away from Sam and slid it across the ground into the boy’s soccer net, AJ and Cass chasing me as I did. I’d only just shown them that their aunt could make stuff fly and we were currently engaged in an intense game of keep away with Sam.

“AJ! Grab it!” I yelled, my nephew hurrying to the net and lifting the shield, stumbling a little as he took off running with it on his arm. I threw up a force field around Sam, who was gaining on him, “Oh no!” Sam was laughing the whole time as he tried to punch his way out of the bubble encasing him. “Go go go!” I cried, watching the boys run off with the shield into the house, dropping the field once they were inside.

“You’re the worst influence on them, you know that right?” Sam chuckled as we slowly made our way towards the front door.

“Hey, I don’t want them thinking their uncle’s the only cool one in the family,” I replied as we entered the house, pulling out my phone to check the notifications I’d feel vibrating in my back pocket. One was a news alert. “Sam.” “Huh?” I tossed him my phone and hurried through the house till I reached the television, flipping to the news to see the article come to life. The GRC was voting in New York on the Patch Act, a movement that would move twenty million refugees back to their home country.

“Shit,” I mumbled, feeling Sam’s presence behind me. His phone rang to announce a call. “It’s Torres,” he held out the phone and revealed the man’s face. “Sorry this took so long, spare you the technical details, but I finally got results for the scans you asked for and I think we’re onto something,” Torres explained as Sam and I went to look at his computer, displaying a map of Europe that lit up with bright red circles. “When we look back, all these pings, they’re from places just before the Flag Smashers hit. Clearly, they’re all over Europe. Earlier today, we got one from New York. Now, I can’t promise you they’re not using a VPN or masking their location, but…” I’d stopped listening after he’d said ‘New York,’ and turned my attention to the tv, every piece of the puzzle was coming together. Karli wouldn’t be physically able to hold herself back from interfering with the vote. “Great work, Joaquin,” Sam said, his eyes trained on the screen along with me, “We’ll take it from here,” he hung up the call and turned to me, “Time to get to work. Come with me.” He rose from his chair and led me to the coat closet nearest to the front door, opening it up to pull out a large silver case and handing it to me. “I don’t know what’s in it, Bucky just told me to hold onto it until the time came where you’d need it,” Sam stated, “I’m thinking that’s now.” Confusedly, I carried it out and up to my bedroom, placing it on my mattress and trying to figure out how to open it. There was no keyhole, only a bar that hosted a red screen. My finger brushed over it, the action turning it blue and the case automatically released an air lock I didn’t know it had. Waiting a few seconds to make sure nothing popped out, I carefully opened the box to see something I couldn’t have predicted in a million years. Resting on top of the surprise was a note on the nicest stationary I’d ever seen…

You may be able to kick my ass, but I’m never gonna stop trying to protect you.

- Bucky

I breathed a soft laugh, holding the paper in my hand and imagining Bucky hunched over a table, writing the words that were now lodged in my heart. “Sam,” I called out, leaving the case open and rushing across the hall to my brother’s room, “Sam, it’s-“ All words disappeared and all thoughts halted at the sight of him opening up his own case, I didn’t need to see its contents to make an educated guess at what was inside of it. There were a dozen emotions playing out on Sam’s face, wonder, apprehension, excitement, shock…Every one of them valid but none of them coming close to the amount of pure determination in his eyes.

I watched from the doorway, smiling, “Ready when you are, Cap.”

----

A/N: AHHH. Only two chapters left, hope this one lived up to your expectations. Getting your messages and comments and asks have been making my days and I’m so glad people are enjoying this little ride I’m taking us all on. Let me know what you thought and/or if you’d like to be tagged for the remainder of the series!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebos @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15

#bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"....So I Married A Murderer" *Chapter 4*

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Look I know I'm not helping myself with the Olivia stans, but in my defense this is a totally legitimate situation. And valid feelings towards Olivia given said situation. I'm not saying she's actually the bad guy here, but from an outsider's prospective without having actually seen what Lewis did to her, it's really just Olivia's hearsay. Am I wrong?!

That being said you know she's always gotta have that thing for Rafa, wedging her way in there. I'm sorry, it has to happen.

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

“Uh, who is it?” Rafael called through the door, still panting from the work out his was mouth was getting.

“It’s me,” Olivia’s voice came back through.

“Shit…” Rafael pushed you off him and straightened himself up. You had never seen him ‘jump’ so fast when someone beckoned. Then again you hadn’t really seen him at work; but you thought he’d be more dominant than he was acting.

“Come in,” He instructed as he smoothed out his suit. Olivia opened the door and walked in, her face went from a smile to a scowl when she saw you standing there.

“Is this…?” She eyed you.

“Olivia this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” He gestured to you.

You had to smile, even though you were severely uncomfortable with the awkward exchange and introductions. You really hadn’t heard Rafael ever introduce you to anyone, let alone as his girlfriend. And also, you were relieved he still thought of you as such. Although you weren’t really sure how long that was going to last.

“Oh she’s your girlfriend now?” Olivia crossed her arms, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. What was her problem?

“What are you talking about Liv?” Rafael took your hand defensively. “She’s always been my girlfriend, you know that,”

“Uh huh and now that she’s in cahoots with Lewis?”

“Cahoots,” You snickered, causing the both of them to give you a look. “What? It’s a funny word…” You now looked at the floor in embarrassment. Excuse you for trying to lighten the mood.

“She’s not in ‘cahoots’ with Lewis…” He assured Olivia, then turned to you. “Are you, carino?”

“Uh…” How were you supposed to answer that? Obviously you weren’t helping him plan his next murder, but you also came down here with the specific intent to defend him to Rafael. Your pause gave both Rafael and Olivia concern.

“Y/N…” Rafael said more seriously, dropping your hand.

“Well…” You tugged at your blazer. “I’m not helping plan any murders, if that’s what you’re saying,”

“Oh my god…” Rafael muttered, looking away from you.

“Raff, look--”

“No no no,” Olivia now stepped in between the two of you. “No ‘Raff’, lady,” She glared at you.

“Excuse the hell out of you, woman,” You glared right back.

“If you’re planning on helping that monster with anything--” Olivia got in your face.

“Why is he a monster?” You stepped right into her, not afraid of her tough guy act.

“Excuse me?” Oliva narrowed her eyes harder.

“I want to hear in specific details, just exactly why you think he’s a monster,” You challenged her.

“Wha--?” She looked at Rafael in disbelief. “Because he kidnapped me? Tortured me? Almost killed me?!”

“From what I saw you almost killed him, Ms. Benson,” You said snidely.

“Excuse me?” Olivia was stunned at your defiance.

“I saw the scars on his face, and his damaged ear. He’s partially deaf now, because of you,” You explained.

“Wow…” Olivia exhaled sarcastically. “WOW….”

“Y/N,” Rafael’s voice softened. “No offense but, you don’t know what you’re talking about--”

“Are they fake?” You asked.

“What?” He replied quizzically.

“The scars,” you clarified. “Are they fake?”

“Well no, but--”

“So she did beat him within an inch of his life?” You gestured towards Olivia.

“I HAD TO!!!” Olivia screamed.

“BULLSHIT!!!!!!” You screamed back at her.

“Y/N!” Rafael yelled, trying to get your attention over the screaming.

“You’re telling me, that once you got him unconscious,” You narrowed your eyes. “Which, let’s be real would only take a few blows to the head, if not just one,”

Olivia exhaled again, crossing her arms and looking away from you as you approached her slowly.

“That you couldn’t have just-- I don’t know, run away? Gotten help?” You got even closer, lowering your voice to a growl. “That you just had to beat my husband to all hell?”

“Y/N…” Rafael’s voice sounded hurt now, hearing you call Lewis your husband.

“Yes,” Olivia stuck to her guns.

“You’re a fucking liar,” You resisted the urge to spit in her face as you backed away from her.

“You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you Barba?” Olivia scoffed.

You suddenly remembered Rafael being in the room, hearing you defend Bobby like that. You turned to see him with tears in his eyes, betrayal on his face.

“Y/N you need to leave,” Rafael said in a soft but terse tone.

“No,” You crossed your arms now. You did feel bad that you were turning on him, but if he was going to defend this bitch just because she was his friend, you were angry at him too.

“Rafael,” You lowered your voice but kept your anger. “Look you weren’t there. You’re just taking her word for it--”

“And you’re just taking Lewis’s word for it!” Rafael didn't falter

“Because he was my HUSBAND!” You exclaimed angrily. If he wasn't backing down, neither were you.

“She’s my BEST FRIEND!!!” He argued,

“Oh is she? Now she’s your best friend? Because that’s not what you said the other night. Or were you lying to me?” You now were starting to doubt anything he said to you.

“W-What?” Olivia said softly, making Rafael turn to her sadly. Now she had the betrayed look on her face.

“A I told you not to tell her, and B--” He paused as he walked over to Liv with a pathetic look before turning back to you. “I thought you were.”

“You thought I was?” You bit your lip, afraid of what was coming.

“Y/N if you’re going to...to choose that monster over me, how the fuck am I supposed to consider you a friend?”

“I’m not ‘choosing’ him Rafael,” Angry tears stung your eyes. “You KNOW she’s lying! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Look you weren’t there either Y/N,” Rafael said sternly. “You don’t know the kind of trauma he put her through--”

“So that makes it okay?” You challenged him, still glaring at Olivia. “Last time I checked, the NYPD wasn’t built on ‘Marshall Law’,”

“It wasn’t--” Rafael started.

“I didn’t kill him!” Olivia defended herself.

“Oh gee detective, how kind of you,” You mocked her. “You let him live with severe deficits because-- what? He wouldn’t sleep with you? Because you had a bad trip?”

“THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED, YOU LITTLE BITCH!!!!!” Olivia charged you, and before Rafael could do anything she was on top of you, slapping the shit out of you.

“OLIVIA!!!!” Rafael screamed before immediately pulling Olivia off of you. You stood up in shock and anger, your face hot and swelling from her hands across it.

“...And you’re going to believe THAT, over Billy?” You gestured to Olivia.

“Alright that was a little much--” He conceded to Olivia's little stunt.

A LITTLE MUCH?!” You now screamed while stomping your foot. “I didn’t even do anything to her, and she ATTACKED me!”

“You were cornering her--” He kept making excuses for her.

“You’re still defending her,” You laughed dryly, tears apparent in your voice. “She just attacked me, and you’re still defending her,”

“Y/N,” His voice was now soft and sorry. “Baby, I--” He went to take your hand.

“No,” You snapped it away and backed away from the two of them. “Don’t you fucking dare start ‘baby’ now, Rafael,”

“You had the audacity to act betrayed when I defended Billy, who has never done ANYTHING to you. When you-- you ACTUALLY see your little ginger there attack me, and defend her?” Angry, hot tears now spilled down your face.

“Baby please--” He begged you just as he had at your house the night before.

“No,” You shook your head. “No, I’m not falling for this-- ‘baby please, I love you, you’re in danger, I’m the good guy,’ bullshit anymore,”

“It’s not bullshit!” Rafael replied frantically. He knew he was losing you.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, the only ‘monster’ here is her,” You gestured towards Olivia who was still quietly raging from earlier.

“You know Billy wants to get back together,” You said simply to Rafael.

“What….NO,” Rafael was really beginning to panic now. “No you can’t go back to that--”

“If you say ‘monster’ one more time I swear to God Rafael--”

“What, are you gonna hit him?” Olivia mocked him.

“No, that’s what YOU do, captain!” You spat.

“Amor, please don’t do this,” He used spanish pet names, knowing they were your weakness. “Please don’t just go back to him because you’re mad at me. You don’t know what he’ll--”

“He won’t do anything to me, Rafael,” You rolled your eyes.

“B-But you don’t even love him anymore--” He stammered.

“MAYBE I DO!” You screamed angrily.

“W-What?” Rafael gasped.

“Billy left me, Rafael,” You started to cry.

“I didn’t leave him. Yeah he hurt me, he broke my heart. But--” You looked up at the sky, really hating to admit this to him. “But I never stopped loving him,”

“....Well he doesn’t love you,” Rafael’s face now turned to a deep dark scowl. “He told me that himself,”

“Oh, did he?” You rolled your eyes, licking back your tears.

“He did,” Rafael’s voice was now eerily calm and quiet.

“He said that he stopped being in love with you a long time ago, that he wanted to kill you. The only reason he didn’t is because he didn’t want to upset your daughters!”

“That’s not--” You shook your head.

Maybe it was true, but maybe he just wanted to kill someone, not you. Sure it wasn’t the greatest argument, but right now it was all you had. You weren’t about to concede to Rafael right now, not after all the bullshit that just went down.

“He said the only reason he doesn’t want me with you is because he doesn’t like people touching his ‘things’!” He went on. “He called you a THING, Y/N. Not his wife, not a person, a THING,”

“Shut up,” You growled.

“He’s just manipulating you, Y/N,” He kept a stern tone. “He’s playing you so that he--”

“So that he can what, Rafael?” You cut him off. “Go back to killing people? You don’t think he’s been doing that already? Or what, do you think he’s going to come back after your lady love?”

“She’s not my--”

“He’s not stupid, Rafael,” You spat.

“He obviously knows I know who, or--what, he is now. He knows that if he starts going on ‘business trips’, that I’ll know. He’s holding himself accountable now. Now you tell me, why would he do that if he didn’t love me? If he didn’t love our family?”

“..I….” Rafael tried to rack his brain for some sort of logical reason, any logical reason.

“Because he still wants to get to me,” Olivia added like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh shut up, you twat,” You flipped her the bird.

“I said he’s not stupid. He’s not going to come after you, risk going back to prison. Or y’know, risk getting murdered by you,”

“I am not a murderer!” She stomped her foot.

“No, you’re just a sadistic, manipulative, evil wench,” You barked.

“You think Billy just wants me for himself, Rafael?” You half laughed while now addressing him. “What the fuck do you think she wants with you?”

"That's not--" Rafael tried to defend Liv again, but you weren't done.

“You say that I’m the one in danger, I’m the one who’s the with the psychopath, but look in the mirror,” You stared daggers into her.

“Maybe we’re just both attracted to monsters,” You bit the side of your cheek. “Maybe that’s our fatal flaw. Maybe we were never supposed to be together,”

“No,” Rafael shook his head and grabbed your hands before you could pull away. “No that is not true, don’t you ever say that,”

“Why not?!” You cried.

“Because I love you, Y/N,” He started to cry himself. “I know--- I know it looks bad, and I’m-- I’m sorry that we’re on opposite ends of this, but--” He paused, trying to compose himself.

“I may be upset with you, but that doesn’t mean that I stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you, you have to believe me,”

“Yeah well,” You broke free from his grasp, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh, sobs dripping in your words.

“Maybe that’s the problem, Rafael. I don’t believe you,” You walked backwards towards the door.

“We’re done,” You turned on your heels and bolted out the door before you could break down sobbing in front of them. You wouldn’t give Olivia the satisfaction.

----------

“...You realize we’re going to have to go after her now, right Rafa?”

“Just--” Rafael put his hands over his face. “Just give me a fucking minute, Olivia,”

“But she--” Olivia’s words were cut off by Rafael’s phone going off.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

“No…” Rafael’s eyes widened. “No there is no way he could--”

“Answer it!” Olivia cried. Rafael put it on speaker.

“....Hello?”

“Damn Barba, you make this way too easy, it’s almost not fun anymore,”

“Lewis,”

“See, here I thought my wife’s little crush on you would deter her from believing me, but you just sent her running back into my arms,”

“You--”

“Actually I guess I should be thanking the good detective there, eh Olivia?”

“You son of a--”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me here, fire crotch,” He chuckled. “You should be thanking me,”

“And why’s that?” She asked warily.

“I just gave you what you’ve always wanted,” They could hear the evil smirk in his voice.

“...Excuse me?”

“Your little papi there?”

“How can you see--?” Both Olivia's and Rafael's eyes darted around his office, focusing on the huge window behind his desk.

“I have my ways, Livvie,” He chuckled darkly. “You know that,”

“Can we back up here?” Rafael chimed in. “What the fuck are you talking about, Lewis?”

“Rafael, he’s just--” Olivia tried to dismiss it.

“Ohhhh, he doesn’t know, does he Olivia?” Lewis asked in an amused tone.

“....Know what?” Rafael raised an eyebrow at Olivia.

“Well,” He chuckled even more sinisterly. “Let’s just say counselor, when I ‘allegedly’ tortured your little lady there,”

“Don’t,” Olivia warned.

“....It wasn’t some relative she was crying out for,” His words dripped with evil amusement as he revealed Olivia's dark secrets.

“...What?” Rafael now looked at Olivia with shock and awe. How had he never seen this?

“Rafael, he’s just saying things to get to you,” Olivia tried brushing him off, but the guilty look on her face was giving her away.

“Oh really? Am I? Tell me you’re not elated that I’ve just cleared the way for you right now, detective. Say that with a straight face while you look into papi’s eyes,”

“You’re sick,” Olivia sneered.

“That wasn’t a denial, Oliva,” Lewis pointed out.

“Oliva, come on--” Rafael said in frustration. How could this be spinning into such a soap opera shit show?

“So maybe you should listen to my wife, counselor,” His evil voice taunted them.

“Maybe you both need to be with your monsters, let nature take its course,” He licked his lips on the other end, eating up the pain he was causing.

“Because if you don’t, I promise you won’t like the results,”

“Lewis I swear to God--” Rafael growled.

“ Now if you’ll excuse me, I do believe the missus is on her way home to me right now. And I wanna give her a hell of a welcome home,” He chuckled one more time before the line went dead.

“Son of a--” Rafael threw his phone across the room angrily.

“Rafa,” Olivia said softly, nervous about the conversation they just had.

“Liv,” He put a hand up. “You need to leave,”

“What did I do?!” She put her hands on her hips.

“Nothing, I--” He sighed. “I just can’t look at you right now,”

“...Fine,” Olivia nodded, not wanting to push the issue right now.

She quietly walked out of the office, leaving Rafael alone. As soon as she was gone, he ran over to his desk and sat in his chair, breaking down into sobs.

What the hell was he going to do now?

#rafael barba angst #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x sonny carisi #william lewis #william lewis x you #william lewis x reader #william lewis angst #rafael barba imagine #so i married a monster #olivia benson #elliot stabler #law and order svu fanfiction #william lewis imagine #william lewis fanfiction

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever Ch.2

Warning: abuse apologizing, mention of past physical abuse, implied manipulation, abuse minimizing

Taglist: @mediocredetective

“Here you go Solomon,” Asmo says as they pass the phone to the sorcerer. “Arella says she wants to ask you something. I’ll be back.” And with that the Avatar of Lust took his leave, leaving their older brother with a look of confusion as Solomon moved away from where he literally had the second-born tied down so he couldn’t move. He turned his lapis gaze over to his younger brother who merely shrugged as he went back to chowing down on a bag of crisps he had raided from Purgatory Hall’s pantry.

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know anything,” Beel said with a mouthful of crisps. “I’m going to head home too though. Dinner’s starting soon. Do you want me to try to save you some? It’s Lucifer’s night to cook.”

“Nah... it’ll just go to waste. Lucifer’s still probably mad at me so I doubt he’ll let me inta the house for the rest of the night.” The Avatar of Greed chuckles sadly. “So don’t worry. I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

The Avatar of Gluttony nodded as he left and Mammon impatiently waited for Solomon to come back.

“I’d offer you something to eat or drink but it looks like you’re... a little tied up at the moment.” Simeon tried to break the tension in the room with the unhappy demon.

“Why did ya have ta go ‘n call Arella like that, huh, Simeon?” Mammon asks, eyebrows knit together in frustration. “I told y’all I was fine, my arm was just a bit busted was all. I woulda survived without her knowin’ ‘n now she’s gonna go off the deep end thinkin’ I need ta be saved or some shit like that when I can take care of myself.”

“She loves you, Mammon. All she wants is for you to be happy and safe. You know that.”

“All of ya are makin’ it sound like Lucifer just straight up broke my elbow for shits ‘n giggles when it was an accident. I’m the one who didn’t wait for him ta let go a me before I started pullin’ ta get away, so really it’s my own fault that it’s broken.”

“Yeah, but things like this seem to happen between you and Lucifer a lot- and I mean a lot a lot.”

“Yeah but... he loves me though. He only does things like this because he loves me. I’m his favorite and he just wants me to learn my lesson is all. If I wouldn’t screw up all the time this wouldn’t happen as often- o-or at all even. ‘Sides it ain’t like I’m the only one who ever gets punished. The rest of my brothers all get their punishments too when they screw up. It’s all fair.”

Simeon gave the demon a doubtful look. “You seem to be the only one who gets any physical punishment though...”

“Yeah, but that’s only cuz I’m a blockhead who just doesn’t learn his lesson. I mean the physical stuff only started within the last century- that's when my dear ol’ brother got fed up with wastin’ his breath. You’d think I’d learn by now huh?”

The angel tries to find the words to say what he’s thinking but he can’t, so he just goes about it in a different approach. No wonder Arella worries about him like this. His brother has him completely manipulated into thinking this is acceptable.

“You... you can’t seriously think that, right?” Simeon asks incredulously. “Mammon, this isn’t okay. Regardless of whether your brother actually loves you or not,

“He does,” Mammon interjects.

“He shouldn’t constantly be putting his hands on you for even the slightest of transgressions- especially if it’s due to something you can’t help, like your sin.”

“Of course, it is. C’mon, Simeon, who’re ya kidding? We’re demons! Our morals are different from those of the Celestial Realm or the Human Realm.... That’s just the way things are down here. Do ya gotta like it? No, but y’all gotta accept it.”

“Don’t you think you sound a little... how do I put this... brainwashed?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well... I just think maybe you’re so blinded by your love for your brothers that-”

“Hi! I’m back!” Asmo called as they lugged a heavy suitcase behind them. They plopped down on the couch. “Miss me?”

The pair just sort of regarded the strawberry blonde-haired demon as they sat next to their older brother.

“Goin’ somewhere, Asmo?” Mammon asks as he eyes the suitcase, “Wait a minute is that my suitcase?”

“Hm? Oh no, I’m not going anywhere. You are.”

“Huh? I’m not going anywh-”

“Well it was nice talking to you, Arella. I’ll untie him now so you can summon him. We’ll talk in a few weeks, yes?” Solomon promptly reentered the space, “Perfect- oh look Asmo’s back too. I’ll let you go then.” The call ended as Solomon undid the spell binding Mammon to the couch with a wave of his hand.

As Mammon stood, a portal opened up in front of him. “I’m not goin’ through that.”

“And why not?” the angel asks. “I thought you’d be delighted to have the opportunity to go stay with your human for two weeks.”

“Alone. Might I add.” Asmo smirks with a waggle of their brows.

“Shut up, Asmo!” The Avatar of Greed turned a shade of bright red, “Of course, I know we’d be alone! Who else would be there? But....”

“Are you scared Lucifer will be upset that you’re up there without his permission, Mammon?” Simeon asks.

“No! I ain’t scared of Lucifer! What gave you that idea, huh?!”

“You do realize you’re being summoned right? You don’t get much of a choice in that matter. Now, get going before you end up getting pulled through and hurt your arm again.” The sorcerer takes Mammon’s suitcase and tosses it through the portal, leaving the demon to squawk indignantly as he chased after it.

“You suck, Solomon!” Is all that could be heard from the other side of the portal as it started to close and the silver-haired human only rolled his eyes, chuckling amusedly.

“Have fun in the mortal realm, Mammon!”

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

The one thing Mammon hates about being summoned is how nearly every time he goes through a portal, he nearly slams into whoever it is that summoned him if they’re standing in his way which is exactly the situation he finds himself in with Arella right now- not a good look for his image, it's very ‘uncool’.

“Hey,” Arella smiles as she wraps her arms around him once they come to a stop.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. I’m mad at ya.” The demon says with a deep scowl on his face.

“I’m sure you are. How’s your arm feeling? Does it still hurt?”

“I’m fine, Arella. Stop treating me like a kid.”

“Huh?” Arella asks, confused as she removes her arm from around him. “I’m... sorry?”

“Ya should be,” Mammon hums as he turns his back to her. “I told ya everything was fine. Ya didn’t hafta go ‘n do all this. I can take care of myself when it comes to my brothers so I don’t get why you think ya gotta get involved every time I get in a situation with one of ‘em.”

“I just thought... well I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re right.” She walked away headed to where the kitchen was to clean up the mess that had been left from the cup of tea she’d had before all of this.

“Huh? Whaddya mean by that?” The demon followed after her looking to continue their small spat.

“Exactly what it sounds like. You’re right. You can take care of yourself when it comes to your brothers and there really is no need for me to insert myself into the situation but I love you and I hate seeing it happen and not doing anything to defend you so... I’m sorry. If it offends you that much, I won’t do it again.” She says as she washes her cup and the other dishes she had left. “Do you want me to send you home after dinner?”

“I.... no- but not because I don’t want to go back and deal with Lucifer...” The white-haired demon takes a seat at the kitchen island resting his chin on his arms. “I only wanna stay cuz I missed ya...”

“I missed you too...” She rubbed his back as she leaned down to place a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry you feel like I’m treating you like a kid... if you want to stay the whole time you can treat it... like a holiday of sorts.”

“Where are we anyway? I know ya said ya were sellin’ yer old house...but the air smells different. How far away did ya move? Are we still in England?”

“About that...” She looked away sheepishly, “I kind of told you a little white lie... I sold that house about a month or two ago. What I’ve been doing since then is house-hunting and all the things that go with buying a house in another country... We’re in Germany- Berlin, exactly.”

“You lied? Oh, you’re horrible.” The demon feigns a look of hurt as the human laughs. “But seriously, baby, why would ya move so far away?”

She shrugged. “Wanted a change. I can speak German so why not- it's not like I have any family to miss back in England, anyway.”

He nods at that. “So no one knows where we are?”

“Nope,”

“Not even my brothers?”

“Not even your brothers.” She smiled. “I told you: if we wanted to, we could disappear up here and no one would ever know.” She cupped his face in between her hands. “You don’t have to go back home if you don’t want to...”

“I don’t have to decide right now, do I? You won’t leave if I want to go home, right?”

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to choose between me or the Devildom- there's a lot to give up down there. You can think about it while we’re up here for the next two or three weeks and if you want to go home after then, then I will still be with you, okay? I just want to give you options.”

He nodded as he moved to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks, Doll.”

“Anytime, Baby.” She hummed.

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

Find more on my masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #mammon angst #obey me mammon #obey me simeon #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me oc #arella

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tatsumology · 3 years

Text

1-cm High World

Location: Seisou Hall Courtyard

Mitsuru: Sniff sniff… Just as I thought, the scent of bread is coming from over here!

They gotta be sweet buns~☆ It smells like the ones you can get at the supermarket!

Ah, found it! So it really was here!

But why is it hanging from a tree branch? It kinda looks like a bread-snatching race.[1] Hmm?

Well, anyway. The bread will go bad if it stays here. I should bring this to the dorm supervisor[2] right away! Dash dash, ju~mp!

Uwaah!? I got stuck in a net and now I’m hanging in the air!

So basically, this is a trap someone set up? Maybe it was the mischievous Hinata-chan? Or could this have been one of Shinobu-chan’s ninjutsu tricks?

When I move my body it feels like I'm shaking like a yoyo, it's fun! Bounce Bou~nce♪

Kohaku: ...It actually caught him.

Mitsuru: Ah, Koha-chan. Hello!

Kohaku: Though this isn’t a situation to be greetin’ each other so casually…. Good day.

Ya certainly look like you’re utterly hog-tied. I'll get ya down, so don't move.

Mitsuru: Okay! I'm bad at staying still, but I'll control myself♪

Kohaku: (Even in such a situation he’s not fazed in the slightest... sorta like Madara-han.)

(Although we’re doin’ activities together as Double Face an’ I know about the ”Mikejima” name, I still don’t know Madara-han’s true self real well.)

(Even if it’s just for a short while, I feel mighty anxious bein’ in the care of someone like him.)

(I was tryin’ ta figure out one or two weaknesses o’ his, an’ then I pieced together that I needed ta go to the Track & Field Club.)

(In order to not stir up any unnecessary trouble, I can’t touch Narukami-han, who’s real close ta bon[3]. An’ as fer Otogari-han...I can’t quite grasp his physical strength just yet.)

(Rulin’ those out, I had ta choose Tenma-han.)

(Although ‘t was me who set the trap, I didn’t think he would come. Yer run-of-the-mill folks wouldn’t get caught up in such an obvious trap, right?)

(Just how much does this dude like bread?)

(Well anyhow, it’s all dandy that I’ve been able ta get him while Madara-han ain’t around.)

…. Now yer loose. ‘M sorry that I set out a trap like this, but there’s just somethin’ I hafta ask ya.

Mitsuru: Not at all! It felt like an amusement park ride, so it was fun! I’d welcome a trap like this any time!

Kohaku: I- is that so? Well, nothin’ better than a good mood right? Here, have some bread as an apology.

Mitsuru: Yaay, I scored another piece of bread! Yesyes~!☆

Munch munch…. So, what was it that you wanted to ask me?

Kohaku: Y’see.. Y’know Madara-han? The one from the Mikejima household? I pretty much only know ‘bout how he is as an idol.

Tenma-han is also in the Track & Field Club with him, right? Can’t ya teach me what kind of person he is?

Mitsuru: I got you! Then let’s change into our tracksuits and meet up in 5 minutes!

Kohaku: Thanks a lot, ya really saved me there~

…. Eh, tracksuits?

5 minutes later

Mitsuru: Okay, first of all, let’s have a match! Get ready to dash! ☆

Kohaku: (So basically, we’re gonna run? I haven’t got a clue what this has gotta do with Madara-han, though.)

(In order ta gain his trust, it’s best ta just go along with him.)

Mitsuru: Dash dash~!

Kohaku: Hollup, how far are ya plannin’ on goin’?!

Mitsuru: Thanks to the bread I’ve just eaten, I’m all fired up! It’s just so much fun to run!

It’s the first time that I’m running together with Koha-chan. You’ve gotta show how much you can run!

I’ve become a proper oniichan now that I’m in my second year. I’m not a child that you can just baby all the time!

Kohaku: Haaa… huff..

Mitsuru: Koha-chan, are you okay? Please eat some bread and jazz up!

Kohaku: Are ya serious?! If I were to get anythin’ in my stomach right now, I’d totally throw it all up.

Mitsuru: It’s gonna be fine if it’s bread! I have some …

Huh, I don’t have any bread on me?!

Let’s go to a bakery to get some! So dash dash with all I got~!

….Not with all I’ve got. I should match up to Koha-chan’s pace, then dash dash at half power~☆

Location: Time Street

Mitsuru: Munch munch… Bread is super duper tasty when you eat it after running!

Kohaku: Yer right...it’s tastin’ better than usual ‘cause we just worked up a sweat.

Mitsuru: ....

Kohaku: ? What’s the matter? Yer starin’ like a rock...

Mitsuru: I just always got the idea that you practically don’t have any friends, so I’m happy that we’re hanging out together! Ehehe♪

Kohaku: “Practically don’t have any friends”...you don’t beat around the bush, huh. Compared ta you, I don’t have heaps, but I do have some.

(‘s all well. Although Tenma-han looks like he’s got his head in the clouds all the time, he’s real aware of his surroundings. It’s kinda surprisin’.)

(.... This ain’t the time for admirin’! I totally forgot about my objective.)

(I could keep goin’ along with him, but with bread and dashin’ I won’t make any progress. Let’s cut to the chase now.)

Tenma-han. This is about Madara-han, I don’t really understand what all this runnin’ around has got to do with him. Could ya explain it so that even I can understand?

Mitsuru: Okey-dokey! Up you go~☆

Kohaku: Waah?! What are ya doin’! Don’t carry me on yer shoulders! Egh, I can’t get down if ya grab me so tightly!

Mitsuru: Mike-chan-senpai loves festivals! He carries me like a mikoshi[4]— gives me a ride on his shoulders and all. He’s a super nice person!

Whenever I’m in a fix, he helps me out. He’s a good guy. But I’ve also become bigger too, I'm already a second year!

I wanna go from being helped to being someone who helps out others!

So if you’re ever troubled about anything, Koha-chan can also come to me for advice!

Kohaku: …. Right. If I’m in a pinch, I’ll count on ya.

(His eyes are sparklin’ when he’s talkin’ ‘bout Madara-han.)

(“A super nice person” huh … So he appears like that to a kid who knows nothin’ of the face beneath the mask.)

(Though I didn’t quite get the information I was hopin’ for, I still spent a meaningful day like this.)

Mitsuru: Sniff sniff … I can smell freshly baked bread!

It’s coming from that bakery! Dash da~sh … ☆

Kohaku: Whaah?! Put me down first~!

Proofreaders

JP: Anonymous

EN: Amagiiz

Translation Notes

A bread-snatching race in Japan is mainly done during school events. Bread is hung on a string, then children need to grab it with their mouths and carry it over a course to the finish line. You can see an example of this in Mitsuru’s bloomed 2015 Sports Festival 4* card ↩︎

The dorm supervisor is Keito. ↩︎

This is how Kohaku refers to Tsukasa. ↩︎

A Mikoshi is a Japanese portable festival shrine that you carry on your shoulders. ↩︎

#trslt #oukawa kohaku #tenma mitsuru #idol story

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

“I Can’t Lose You”

Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Reader

Request from @loveandglamour26: Can I get #39 & #50 from Fluff list, with #6 from Angst. Would love this with Coco 🖤 Please and thank you, doll!! 😊 (Prompts are from This Post)

Warnings: language, angst (with a happy ending)

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Putting up 2 fics in one day because I’m currently working remotely and I have time to write between meetings haha. I’m not super used to writing Coco, but I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. Enjoy!

Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 (This is literally like my second fic for Coco, so the taglist is just everyone that I could remember that wanted to be tagged in all my Mayans stuff. If I forgot you I’m so sorry! My brain is just bad lmao. Love y’all xoxo)

“You wanna tell me why those fuckin’ guys showed up to my job today?” it was coming out as anger, but really you were just scared.

“I told you,” he shook his head, “you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it. I’ll handle it.”

“That’s not the point, Coco!” tears stung at the edges of your eyes, “There shouldn’t be anything to handle. What you do is not supposed to be bleeding over into what I do. I should at least get to feel safe at work!”

“What do you want me to tell you, huh?”

“I want you to tell me why I got strangers coming to my job asking me about you and the club! That’s not my shit to be handling, so I at least deserve to know why I’m getting caught up in this.”

“It’s old club shit, Ma. Nothing that you need to worry about—it’s not gonna keep being an issue.”

You sighed and shook your head, trying as hard as you could to fight back the tears, “You’re lying to me again. I know that I’m not in the club, and that there’s a lot of things that I don’t get to know. But this involves me directly. And it’s gotta be some kind of big deal if it’s making you want to stay with me for the next few days. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?”

That got him to pause his pacing. He looked over at you and the expression on his face was one of pain and anger. You knew that what you said had struck a nerve, and you were just hoping that it was enough to get him to actually open up and be honest with you. He crossed the living room in what seemed like two large steps. He was face to face with you, and you could feel the heat and agitation radiating off of him.

“I don’t tell you the truth ‘cause I know that you won’t be able to handle it,” his voice was low, but harsh, “You think that this shit is scary? Huh? This shit freakin’ you out? Then you don’t wanna know all the things that I don’t tell you. I keep that shit to myself for a fuckin’ reason.”

Your heart felt heavy inside your chest. You tried to blink back the tears but instead they spilled over and ran down your cheeks. You knew that whatever Coco did with the club was way above your paygrade. When he’d come home and you’d have to patch him up, you kept your questions to a minimum for your sake as much as his. But lately it was getting harder and harder to pretend that he could keep that part of his life separate from the part that he shared with you. But you knew that he was right, that there was a lot that would be difficult for you to stomach. Despite that, though, you still wanted to know as much as you could. You couldn’t try to help him, or yourself, if you were kept completely in the dark.

“Please, Coco,” your voice was soft, anger quickly draining out of you as despair took over, “you gotta give me something. I live with the constant fear that one day you’re just…not gonna come home,” you wiped the tears off of your face, “And it’s the worst feeling in the world. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially not on you. So please, fucking please just be honest with me.”

He hated seeing you cry, hated it even more when he was the reason for your tears. He felt like he was caught in an impossible situation, though. He didn’t want to burden you with the weight of his life in the club—you had your own shit to worry about. However, it seemed like despite his best efforts it was becoming your burden to bear as well, anyway.

“Hey,” he gently grasped you by your upper-arms, “I’m always gonna make it home, alright? Don’t worry about that.”

“How do you know that, though?” you sniffled.

A smirk passed over his lips for a moment, “I’m too fuckin’ stubborn not to.”

It got you to let out a small laugh. You reached up and wiped the tears from your face, “That’s true.”

He waited for you to meet his eyes again, “And those guys? The ones who showed up at your fuckin’ job? Angel and EZ are already taking care of ‘em. That’s why I wasn’t gonna bother you with any of it.”

“Then why’d you say you need to stay with me for a while?”

He gently cupped your face, “Figured you’d be shaken up. Any reason to stay with you is a good one,” he sighed and stepped back slightly, “But if you’re pissed, I get it. I can go.”

You stepped in and took his hands in yours, “No, don’t. Stay. Please.”

He saw the exhaustion on your face and pulled you into a hug. You leaned your weight onto him as he held you, tears beginning to flow again. You might not be mad at him anymore, but that didn’t make the events of the day any less scary and draining. You felt like you could hardly support your own bodyweight at that point. If Coco let go of you, you were almost certain that you’d crumple to the floor.

He pressed a kiss against the top of your head, “I love you. You know that, right?”

You nodded against his chest, “I know, I love you too.”

“I’m sorry I don’t tell you shit all the time. I’m just tryin’ to protect you.”

You sniffled, holding him tight against you, “I know.”

“C’mon,” he scooped you up and carried you down the hall, “you’re exhausted. Let’s go to bed.”

You didn’t argue with him about it, allowing him to sweep you off down the short hallway to your bedroom. He gently set you down on the mattress. You crawled under the covers as he stripped down to his boxers before getting into bed beside you. He pulled you up against him so that you were laying with your forehead pressed against his. Your hand rested lightly on his chest, focusing on the steadiness of his breathing.

“I can’t lose you,” you whispered.

He kissed your forehead, “You won’t. We’re alright. I’m safe now, you’re safe now. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You let the comfort of his words wash over you, attempting to loosen the tension you had been carrying in your body the whole day. His hands ran idly up and down your back, causing you to let out a contented sigh. Regardless of what the future held, for tonight, the two of you were safe. That was good enough for now. You’d face tomorrow when it arrived.

#mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x you #coco x reader #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #mayans mc

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking, @must-be-a-weasley-92, @whovianayesha, @holding-on-to-my-youth

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

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

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

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

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

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

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

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

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

#indruck #meet ugy #indrid cold/ duck newton #orc au #victorian au #trans duck newton

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moony-meadow · 3 years

Text

The Very Hungry Beelzebub (3)

Previous Part / Next Part

“Uhhh…” Beelzebub was frozen. He was clearly unsure whether to reveal everything to Mammon in hopes of getting his help, or concocting some kind of lie to protect both his and my dignity. And I had a feeling that, unlike Mammon, Beel didn’t want to make the decision without getting my approval first.

“It’s okay, Beel, you can tell him,” I sighed. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to finding out what Mammon’s reaction would be. I honestly wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.

Though I couldn’t see it, I could easily imagine the confused expression currently painted on Mammon’s face as he wondered why he’d just heard my disembodied voice. No doubt he was looking around the room, searching for the source of the sound. “Huh? What was that?” he questioned, sounding thoroughly befuddled.

Poor Beel was going to be forced to explain the bizarre situation. Of course, I could try to do it, but it seemed like something that would be more easily done by someone not hidden away inside a stomach.

I could feel Beel take a nervous breath. He was obviously not looking forward to this. Despite being younger (and less powerful) than Mammon, he had never really acted like it. Beel would never take orders from the second oldest, and he showed no qualms about stepping on his toes. But now, he was anxious about admitting the truth to Mammon. What exactly he was afraid of, I didn’t know. Did he think his brother would be angry, or disappointed?

“After I started to recover from being sick, I got hungry...really hungry,” Beel began. “I-I wasn’t in control of myself. I ate everything in the kitchen.” I placed a hand on one of the fleshy walls, hoping it would come across as reassuring. “And then...and then Y/N came in.” He winced as he said it, and honestly, I did too.

“What exactly are ya sayin’?” Mammon’s voice had taken on an edge, a dangerous edge I hadn’t ever heard before.

Beel swallowed hard. “Mammon, I...I shrank Y/N and ate them.” He spit out the last part of the sentence, as if he was worried if he didn’t say it fast enough, he would never say it.

“You what?!” Mammon roared. I heard a commotion, and then suddenly everything around me lurched. I threw my arms out to brace myself against the walls. I definitely had not missed being thrown around like a ragdoll inside someone’s stomach, completely subject to their massive movements. “No, that can’t be right. Y/N has a pact with you. They woulda ordered you to stop.”

I could visualize the kicked puppy look on Beel’s face perfectly as he admitted to what he’d done in his hunger-fueled delirium. “They couldn’t. I put a silencing spell on them.”

More rough movements rocked my world, and then I heard, as well as felt, an echoing slam. I had a suspicion Mammon had just shoved Beel against a wall, which was difficult for me to imagine. I didn’t think I had ever seen him get violent with his brothers, or anyone for that matter.

“Mammon! Relax, I’m fine!” I shouted. The last thing I wanted was for things to get more physical, for my own sake as well as for Beel and Mammon’s. Seeing the brothers bicker and get at each other’s throats was commonplace, but I never enjoyed witnessing them coming to blows.

“Y/N?” Mammon exclaimed, his tone of voice instantly shifting. “Y/N, if you didn’t order Beel not to hurt you then you’re in danger! You’ll get digested--”

“Don’t worry, as soon as I got my voice back I made sure that wouldn’t happen,” I promised. The unfiltered concern in Mammon’s voice was more than a little endearing. The guy was quick to play the aloof, uncaring demon, though of course I knew that was all an act. It was refreshing to hear him being genuine and not attempting to hide his true feelings.

I could feel Beelzebub’s heartbeat begin to come down from its heightened rate as the tension in the room began to lessen. Once again he placed a gentle hand against his stomach, and I reciprocated with my much smaller hand on the other side.

“The only problem is I can’t bring them back up the same way you did,” Beel told Mammon regretfully.

“I guess that means you found ‘em tasty, huh?” Mammon said in a grumpy tone. Evidently he was aware of the little stipulation that prevented the Avatar of Gluttony from throwing up. I wasn’t shocked to hear Mammon was none too pleased about “his human” getting eaten by another demon. The Avatar of Greed was nothing if not possessive.

“Even the worst humans have a good flavor,” Beel remarked. “Of course Y/N would be leagues ahead of them.” My heart fluttered at the compliment, though it was a bit spoiled by the context of said compliment. I was glad Beel considered me to be “leagues ahead” of the worst humans, though I didn’t really like the fact that that seemed to go hand in hand with my level of tastiness.

“None of that matters,” I called out, eager to direct the conversation away from how enjoyable I apparently was to eat. “What matters is getting me the hell out of here.”

“Damn right,” Mammon was quick to reply. I had a feeling his determination was in large part attributed to his possessiveness.

Before Mammon had eaten me, when he was trying to convince me to agree to the whole endeavor in the first place, he had mentioned a backup place in case he was unable to cough me up naturally. His exact words had been, “if I can’t get ya out naturally, I could always just swallow the end of a string and pull ya out that way.” While the idea did sound pretty ridiculous and silly, I didn’t see any reason why it couldn’t work.

“Mammon, do you really think Beel swallowing the end of a string would work?” I questioned. I would be more than a little pissed if he had only offered that as a suggestion to trick me into letting myself get swallowed.

“Oh yeah, good idea!” Mammon exclaimed. “Lemme go find somethin’ that’ll work.”

“Wait, hold on a second--” Beel started to protest but was quickly interrupted.

“Beel, you should go to Y/N’s room so we don’t gotta worry about anyone walkin’ in on us.” After that came the sound of hurried footsteps exiting the room.

Beel remained still for a moment before releasing a soft sigh. “I’m going to make my way to your room,” he announced. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone at this hour, but just try not to move too much just in case.” He gave one last soft pat to his stomach before heading off.

While Beel definitely seemed to be making an effort to move slowly and carefully, the ride inside his stomach was still fairly unsteady. While it may have been my second time being eaten, that didn’t mean I was anywhere near used to the experience of riding around in a giant stomach.

Thankfully the trip to my bedroom didn’t last long and was completely uneventful. Once I heard the sound of the door clicking shut behind us, I let out a relieved sigh. “Is it okay if I sit down?” Beel asked tentatively.

A little smile formed on my face. Beel was so considerate and sweet. It was definitely a different experience being in his stomach than in Mammon’s. Aside from Beel’s far more mindful behavior, his stomach was also significantly bigger than Mammon’s had been. Of course that wasn’t surprising. He was the Avatar of Gluttony after all.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I replied with a light chuckle.

My environment creased slightly, signalling that Beelzebub had gone ahead and taken a seat. I myself took a seat at the bottom of the stomach, reclining slightly. Feeling much more confident that I would make it out of this situation alive, I allowed myself to relax a little bit. To be honest, being inside someone’s stomach was kind of comfy in its own weird way. I had gotten one of the best night’s sleep I’d had in awhile when I’d spent the night with Mammon. Of course, I would never admit that. Mammon’s head was already big enough as it was.

“Hey, Y/N?” I could feel Beel tracing patterns on the outside of his stomach as he spoke. “You know that I don’t, you know, just see you as food, right?” There was nervousness in his voice, as well as a large dose of guilt. He clearly hadn’t forgiven himself for what he’d done despite me having already given my forgiveness.

I paused for a moment. All seven of the demon brothers viewing me as tasty in some capacity was something I had accepted a while ago. I had forged friendships with them knowing that fact. At the start, the only thing keeping any of them from eating me had been my status as an exchange student. However, I believed things had changed. I couldn’t imagine any of the brothers intentionally trying to bring harm to me anymore. Even Belphegor had gone from wanting to kill me to being a close friend.

So maybe they all still secretly imagined eating me. It didn’t matter. Because I was convinced that none of them would put that desire before my wellbeing--so long as they were in their right mind of course. “Don’t worry, I know,” I reassured the demon.

“You’re sure?” Beel asked uncertainly. “Because I know I always talk about how delicious you look, and I ask if I can eat you sometimes--”

“Hey, I get it...well I sort of do anyway,” I said. “Humans are usually on the demon menu. I suppose it’s normal for you to want to eat us.” I added with a shrug.

I tried to imagine the situation from the demon perspective. To put it into human terms, I had to guess it would be like having a delectable ice cream sundae walking around and talking. I definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable eating a sentient ice cream...but that was beside the point.

“That doesn’t make what I did okay,” Beel stated firmly.

I sighed. “Well no, but like I said, that wasn’t really you.” I didn’t care that he wanted to eat me when he was in his right mind. All that mattered to me was that he didn’t actually do it.

It seemed likely that Beel would try to argue with me, but he didn’t get the chance before I heard the bedroom door opening. “Alright, let’s get Y/N outta there!” Mammon announced.

#shall we vore #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t vore #soft vore

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kareofbears · 3 years

Text

plainly in truth, chapter 2/5

“Without you around, it’s sorta like stuff is just kinda…bleh.“

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Yusuke wasn’t too sure if what he was doing was of the right mind, but his heart is definitely in the right place.

There’s a lapse in time between Jails and hitting the road. Everyone is out soaking in the last of Sendai; Ryuji and Akira (and by extension, Sophia) are on a quest to buy any last minute supplies that they might need while the girls and Morgana are taking in the sights that they didn’t quite manage to explore as much as they’d like.

Well, the girls who like crowds and sightseeing are on a quest, at least.

Futaba and Yusuke are in the trailer by their own volition—he didn’t need to see anything else that wasn’t a timeless statue, and he learned early in his life that if you pace your spendings, you can then use that money to spend in the future. Quite the contrary, Futaba has had a little too much excitement these past few days and is more than happy to hide away in her top bunk with only her laptop charger peeking out from the bottom of her fleece blanket.

(A cartoon rendition of the Sendai temple is printed onto the fleece. Apparently Haru had yet to see Futaba purchase anything ‘tourist-y’ and action figures of various anime characters don’t seem to count.)

He tugs on her laptop cord. “Hello.”

“...What?” she grunts, voice slightly muffled. Through the thin fabric, he can see the illumination from her screen.

“I need help reacting to something.”

“And you decided to ask me?” she deadpans. “The literal shut-in?”

“The previous shut-in,” he corrects. “You haven’t been a shut-in in nearly a year. A marvelous feat, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, and this is my way of celebrating.” The lump on the bed seems to curl further in on itself. “Begone. Do a painting or something. This is my me time. The equivalent of guzzling down a boat load of Arginade. There’s barely any time to be by myself considering the whole group is treating this RV like a pimped out party bus, so shoo.”

J-pop starts playing from inside the blanket fort, and even Yusuke knows a dismissal when he hears one. That won’t stop him, though.

He tugs again, harder. “That is the reason I’m asking you now. I can’t have this be heard by prying ears.”

Had there been a cat on the bunk bed, its ears would have twitched. “Is this…?”

“Yes,” he nods sagely. “It’s a secret.”

Futaba’s head pops out, eyes wide and nearly glowing in excitement. If there was one thing that she liked more than recovering her energy, it's uncovering every nook and cranny of people’s lives, whether they want it or not.

“Inari, you should’ve said something!” She throws the blanket off herself, snatches her laptop in her arms and jumps down. Slamming it down on the booth, she throws herself on top of the smooth faux leather. “Tell me everything. The deets, the specs, all down to the last dirty drop of tea.”

He slides in to join her, albeit much slower. “Before you tell me that I misled you, I want to make it clear: I don’t know what the secret is.”

“What!” she slaps her forehead, groaning. “Yusuke, why would you do me like that? That’s false advertising to the max, and I do not appreciate you tricking me.”

“There wasn’t a trace of trickery. What I’m about to say really does have to do with a secret, but I need your help with how to deal with it.”

“I’m gonna level with you here pal,” she puts a hand on his wrist. “I’m not the right person for this, but I’d be darned if I let you walk away without telling me anything. So let’s hear it! I’m ready for some juicy goss. Oh! Can I guess? Is it about Haru?”

He frowns. “No. Is there something about Haru?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I was asking you!” she says, patting her hands rapidly on the table. “Come on, just spill the beans already.”

“There are no ‘beans’ to spill yet, and besides, that sounds like a waste of perfectly good food.” He leans back against the plush cushion. Only a pinch of guilt arises in him as he says it. “It’s about Ryuji.”

“Ooo, Skull himself. Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting him.”

“It relieves me that you said that. I share the same sentiment—it wasn’t until I had run into him the night before when I had started to truly suspect something. And what I found was…” he trails off.

Her lips pull downwards. “That bad?”

“It was worrying, to say the least.”

She sighs. Most of the energy in her seemed to have filed out in the presence of a more serious topic. “Dang. I knew it was fishy when he left, but he’s always been able to just hash things out on his own.” Her expression changes as an idea pops into her head, and it morphs into one he recognizes. “Does—?”

“No. Akira doesn’t know, apparently.”

Futaba splutters, and he has to resist the urge to nod his head at her reaction. “He—Akira—wait, what? He doesn’t know? Oh, it must be bad bad.”

“My thoughts exactly. Initially, I had thought that whatever this was, it was manageable. Like that time he had spent his month’s allowance on a claw machine to win Makoto that light-up buchimaru.” Idly, he touches her keyboard lightly, appreciating the kaleidoscope of colors that emanate from it. “You know how I feel. We’re the Phantom Thieves; we can’t allow anyone to suffer alone, even if the one we’re helping is a Phantom Thief himself.”

Futaba raises an eyebrow. “And how do you want to help him?” she asks. “By talking to him? Let’s be real, you and I have the lowest social stat in this group. Combined, we can maybe reach the nerd student council president, and the guy who can and should handle this doesn’t even know about it!” Biting down on her lip, “Should we tell Akira?”

“Absolutely not. That was the one thing he had requested, and we cannot go against it. By extension, I don’t think we should tell anyone else.” A thought comes to him. “Wait, he mentioned that Ann knows of his situation.”

“Great! Someone who knows how to deal with people’s problems and isn’t us. What are we waiting for?” She reaches for her phone, and Yusuke proceeds to smack her hand out of the way. “Ow?”

“Don’t call her!” he hisses. “Ryuji said that she’s, and I quote, ‘part of the problem’. We can’t have her knowing that we know something.”

“Ann is?” Futaba exclaims, shoving her glasses up her nose. “This is getting too deep. We don’t even know anything yet, and it’s really starting to feel like we’re part of some conspiracy.”

“That’s right, we don’t know anything, and it is our largest road block.” Yusuke crosses his arms. “We don’t know what happened between Ryuji and Ann, or if something even occurred between Ryuji and Ann. What if they had an argument? What if they’re fighting, and it becomes irreparable between them? What if it begins affecting our Jail runs?”

“You really gave this some thought, huh?”

“But of course. I must nurture the few friends that I have managed to treasure.” He glances outside and sees the crowds clambering to see their tourist spot. “We may be different from most teenagers, but I don’t believe we’re immune to the nature of cliques or dramas or even insecurities.”

“God, what a good friend you are, it’s bugging me,” Futaba accuses. “So what the heck, Mr. Philanthropist? We’re stuck between a rock and our friend group here. This mission was doomed before you even dragged me out from my hideout,” she says, eyes drifting away to stare longingly back at her bunk bed.

“Stop making that expression. There’s a reason why I talked to you about this.” He leans forward. “What I’m asking is, to be frank, unfavorable, but I really do believe that it’s worth it to do this.”

She looks at him, and it only takes her a few seconds for realization to set in. Her jaw drops. “Oh Inari, that’s vile.”

“If you’re uncomfortable with it—”

“I didn’t say I was uncomfortable with it,” she cuts in. The grin on her face is wide; a woman in her element. “I just thought you’re the one who’d be all against this kind of thing.”

Futaba pulls her laptop towards her. “Sit back and observe the master at work.”

He watches as her fingers breeze through the keyboard, eyes inscrutable as light reflects off of her glasses. “So you can do it?”

“I’ve hacked into the Diet Building’s security cameras on a dare back when I was twelve,” she snorts. “This is Mario Kart Baby Park with the railings up.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It means—” With a flourish, she hits a key before glancing up at him, smug. “That this will be very easy. I’m thinking we can start with their text messages and work our way up to the big stuff.”

“Oh, right. You can go through our phones,” he grimaces. “You’ve stopped doing that, yes?”

“Of course I have! By the way, did you figure out what courses you wanted next term? I saw your advisor was bugging you about it, you should really email her back.”

“Yes, I’ve finally decided on sculpting as opposed to visual photography since it lets me focus on the anatomy of...” he pauses. “Wait—”

“Okay, looks like I got his text messages with Ann, so let’s all focus on this now!” she says loudly. “Scooch over, let’s go through ‘em.”

He does, and she moves to sit next to him. Yusuke peers at her screen. “Nothing out of the ordinary. There is a significant drop in the frequency of his replies, but that’s been the case for me as well.”

“Same here.” She continues scrolling up rapidly, so fast he wonders how she can keep up with herself. “Memes, memes, lots of ‘where you at’ texts, more memes…”

Something catches his eye. “Hold. Go down slightly, I think that link might be interesting.”

“‘How to treat knee pain: 11 steps with pictures’?” she reads aloud. “His knee is acting up again?”

“What’s peculiar is that I haven’t seen any sign of it.” He squints at Ryuji’s response to it—generic gratitude. “Even in Jails, he runs around without a care in the world.”

“What’s even weirder is that Ann is actually sending Ryuji wikihow links on how to treat his knee,” she snorts. “Let’s put a pin in this one and move on, Ann’s chat is chalking up to be a dead end.”

Rubbing her hands together, she straightens up like a professor in front of a lecture hall on the first day of classes. “Now Yusuke, when you’re looking to crack someone open like a tasty, moist omelette, there are two things that you must look into: their email and their bank account.”

After some clicking, Ryuji’s email pops up. “Email is obvious, since this pretty much tracks anything big. Delivery shipments, subscriptions to websites, acceptance letters. It’s all here in a neat little bow, ready for us to read.”

“‘Manga’s are 20% off for this weekend only,” he reads. “‘Anime convention next weekend’, ‘Pizza coupons’.”

“Ugh, he’s so boring! Next!” Clicking sounds through the RV, emphasizing how much they were snooping through their friend’s private life. “Bank account, show us your wisdom.”

“My word,” Yusuke gasps when the tab opens up. “That’s quite a lot of funds.”

“Inari, four thousand yen is definitely not a lot of money. How much do you have in yours?”

“I don’t have an account,” he admits. “I was on my way to the bank to open one, but I ran out of train fare. By the time I had gotten there, it was already closed. Quite rude, considering that it was only two o’clock.”

She levels him with a look. “Was it a Sunday when you did all this?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Never mind,” she shakes her head. “Okay, so nothing conclusive or even embarrassing. That means that whatever this is, he really doesn’t want anyone knowing about it.”

Futaba hops out of the booth and starts rummaging through everyone’s luggage. “That means we unlock the secret, classic, never goes out of style method of snooping—” with an expression of triumph, she showcases Ryuji’s backpack to him. “Going through their stuff IRL.”

Yusuke winces. “Don’t you think we might be going too far?”

“Hey, what’s with the cold feet? Where was your ‘justice’ from before?”

“I’m all for justice,” he watches her unzip the backpack, recoiling. “But even this seems a little excessive.”

“Look, we already went through his email, his bank account, his text messages. At this point, it’s kind of weird if we don’t find anything. Like—” she throws a pair of shorts behind her as she rummages. “What kind of teenage boy doesn’t have anything to hide? And also, it’d be kinda messed up to go through his stuff and come up empty-handed. If we didn’t find anything—” she pulls out several t-shirts and a crowbar and places them on the ground next to her. “Then we’d just be a bunch of snoops.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he reluctantly agrees. “Above all else, we need to find out what’s happened in his life to make him so upset.”

“Exactly. Oh man, wouldn’t it be crazy if we just found some porn mags or something? Retro to the max, but I can totally see him as the kind of guy to lug something like that along. Unless it’s of Akira.” She makes a face. “Ew. Funny thought is no longer funny.”

“Karma, if you will.”

“Shut it. Oh ho ho, what do we have here?”

“You found something?”

“It’s some fancy looking letter.” Futaba flops herself on the ground. She clears her throat. “'Sakamoto Ryuji. This letter is to inform you that…'” she stops all of a sudden.

“Futaba?” he probes.

“Um,” she blinks, and laughs nervously. “Um?”

He reaches over, and she doesn’t resist when it slips out of her hands. Skimming through the letter, only his eyes dare to move. When he finishes, he lets out a breath. “Oh no.”

“We shouldn't've read that,” she whispers, a perfect summation of what he was feeling. “We really should not have read that.”

—

There’s something to be said about the quayside in Sendai, in the way that it’s almost exactly like Tokyo.

Sure, the buildings here are definitely shorter—gone are the towering structures back home, and instead they’re replaced with shorter structures with cute local designs and colorful patio restaurants. The people here are different, too. Maybe it’s something to do with the water here, in how it’s cleaner and how you can actually see some fish down in the canals if you know where to look. Don’t even get him started in the air; jeez, do they infuse the oxygen here with something? He hasn’t stopped taking deep breaths ever since they got here.

But despite all of those discrepancies, the feeling of Akira’s hand in his is just like being home.

“And it’s actually really interesting,” he hears vaguely. “Because back in Leblanc, there used to be a couple issues about the temperature and stuff, but in my hometown there’s…Ryuji? Are you even listening to me?“

Akira’s telling him something. A story about Morgana? And Ryuji’s sure it’s very interesting, but he’s too focused on the way that sunlight hits his cheekbones.

“I’m listening,” he lies. “Keep going. This is just my listening face, I promise.”

“Sure, sure,” Akira agrees easily. “That’s just your listening face, rather than me and my wicked good looks, right? I totally believe you.” He wiggles his fingers. “Give.”

Ryuji offers him the caramel ice cream cone in his other hand, letting him bite into it like some kind of psychopath. “Done?” he asks, shifting the tote bag tucked into the crook of his elbow, careful not to rattle the eggs inside. Akira bravely offered to carry the groceries, but he had obviously refused.

“Mmm. That’s good stuff.”

“Right? I read about the ice cream here when I was younger, and they were really hyping it up on the ad.” He takes a lick, grinning when the taste hits his tongue. “And on a summer day like this? Unbeatable. It’s really reminding me of last summer when we hung out everyday in your room eating crap, taking naps, and playing games.” It also helped that hanging out with his crush was a daily thing, he thought.

“And I got to hangout with my crush a lot too, so that’s always a plus,” Akira adds.

Ryuji stops, and Akira turns around to give him a weird look. “What?”

“You get me,” he says in awe.

“I sure hope so,” he tugs him forward, and they continue their walk, their shoes rhythmically landing on the wood in unison. A comfortable silence takes over, but that’s no good. Ryuji wants to hear him talk.

“So imagine you get ten million yen,” he starts. “What do you do with it?”

It’s not the first time he’s asked this. They discuss it often, eagerly like the dreaming boys they both are. Akira considers it and Ryuji loves that about him. It doesn’t matter how stupid his questions are—he will always answer them with as if it were a serious question.

“For starters, Yusuke’s getting a place as soon as possible.”

“Duh,” he snorts. “Apparently, his roommate brought someone back to hook up with them. Poor guy got so traumatized he slept over at Haru’s.”

“We should be glad that he didn’t ask them for poses,” Akira laughs. “Next, I’m making sure that Sojiro has enough for retirement.”

“Obviously. Rest in peace Leblanc—you make fire coffee, but no one’s there to drink it.”

“And then I’m making sure your mom has the funds for retirement for sure.”

“I love you,” he sighs.

“I know.” Akira starts swinging their hands back and forth. “Then with the rest, I’ll buy us some new shoes for when we start training again together, and whatever’s left we can split it up with the rest of the Thieves and they can do what they want with it.”

“I bet Ann would go on a shopping spree in France,” he says.

“Haru would probably donate hers.”

“Makoto’s is going straight into university. I can see her going in to get a Masters with that kind of money.”

Ryuji refuses to let his expression fall. “That’s her. Big bookworm with a capital B.” Stop talking about this, stop talking about this. “How about you, Sophia? Any clue what you’ll do with a boatful of moolah?”

A harmonic beep rings through the air and Akira passes her over to him. “I would invest in cryptocurrency and turn ten million into one hundred million,” she says cheerfully. “Then I would take that hundred million and turn it into one billion yen.”

Ryuji coughs, sliding her into his back pocket. “You know what? That’s my bad. I should’ve expected that, honestly.”

Akira plucks the remainder of their ice cream cone from his hand and throws it in his mouth, munching. Wordlessly, he takes out a pack of wet-wipes from his pockets and hands it to Ryuji.

“Thanks.” Reluctantly dropping his hand, he thoroughly cleans through his sticky fingers. “You didn’t ask me what I was gonna do with my money.”

He nods in a go ahead way.

“After I give most of it to my mom, I was just gonna give the rest to you.” Ryuji kicks a stray pebble. It skirts off the edge of the boardwalk. There’s a tug on his arm. “Yeah?”

Akira covers his mouth with a hand, before making an incomprehensible garble of noise.

“Huh? My bad, I didn’t catch that.”

A few seconds of vigorous chewing, he swallows. “I said,” Akira says, eyes glimmering the way it does when he gets really excited. “I was going to do the exact same thing.”

“Dude!” Ryuji throws his arm around his shoulders, tugging him in close. “You understand me like no one else does. What the eff!”

“I’m glad,” he says softly. Wrapping his arm around him, Ryuji blinks at the unexpected hug. “It’s nice that we're on the same wavelength.”

Suspicion tingles across Ryuji’s skin. “Hold up.” Pulling away, he squints his eyes at him. “No.”

Akira immediately looks to the side. “What?” he says, defensive. “It’s nothing.”

“No freaking way.”

“I think I saw a cool arcade back there, it has cool prizes that I think you’d like, and—“

“Kurusu Akira,” he says sternly, grabbing his face between his hands. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous.”

“I’m not!” he insists, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “I’m not, you know I’m not that type of guy.”

“But?” Ryuji prompts.

“But…” he hesitates. “I’d be happy for you, if you find that it’s easier to talk to other people that aren’t me.” Akira straightens up, pulling out of Ryuji’s grasp but inspects his hand like it were something to be studied. How strange it was to see his long, elegant fingers grasp his brutish, blistered ones. “I’m relieved that I didn’t leave you alone. I just...miss being your go-to, I think.”

“Akira.” He says slowly. “My man. The love of my fucking life. You are never not gonna be my go-to. You’re my go-one.” Rapping his knuckles against Akira’s temple carefully, “Your hometown is messing with you up here, making you say weird shit like that.”

“I know, I know.” Running his index finger down his wrist, Ryuji can feel how cold he is. “You knew what you were getting into when you started dating an overthinker.”

“As a chronic underthinker, no, I did not.” He kisses Akira’s palm. “But it works out, so it’s all good.”

Turning them both around, Ryuji starts walking. “I know this is super duper impossible for a guy like you, but I’m gonna have to ask you for a favor.”

“Anything.”

“You have got, to the best of your ability,” he bumps into Akira’s shoulder. “Stop stressing out.”

He frowns. “It’s my job to stress out.”

“It’s our job to stress out,” he corrects. “You and me. Founding Thieves. We share the burden, bro. We got into this together, we’re getting out of it together. That includes you worrying about our relationship outside the ‘Verse, and extend it all the way to what dingy hometown you took the bullet train from.”

“I’ll try,” he says doubtfully. “You’re kind of enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean? No way I can enjoy the most perfect person on the planet be a little jealous over his boyfriend getting attention, what kind of asshole would I be?” And before Akira can say anything, “I know, not jealous, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” he flashes a peace sign.

“I know you know.” A group of middle schoolers pass them, chattering about nothing and pointing out random things on the quay, all enjoying their summer vacation. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?” he asks suddenly.

Unable to help himself, he ruffles Akira’s hair, pitch black and hot to the touch. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“I don’t?”

Gray eyes look into his brown ones, earnest and trusting. Just like that, the light feeling in Ryuji’s chest vanishes. “No,” he responds slowly. “You don’t.”

“Good,” Akira nods, and sees where they were heading towards. “Oh, you took that seriously?”

“You bet your crisp ass I did,” he says, pushing the glass door open. The arcade is bright, neon, and littered with claw machines. Add that to the list of similarities from Tokyo. “I don’t fuck around with arcades. I’m in the top hundred players in the Gun Gale in Shinjuku.”

“Was that with Shinya or without?”

“Not important.” He surveys the area. “There it is. Can you grab us some change? I’ll pay you back.”

Akira waves his hand, walking towards the coin machine. “Don’t. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you pay for our dates?”

“A hot one!” he yells. When he turns the corner, Ryuji collapses into a bright red racing chair. “Fuck,” he hisses, heart beating too damn fast for it to be normal. “Chill out, Sakamoto, jesus.”

It only gets worse when a familiar beep rings out. “Ryuji, your heart rate is at 160. Is everything alright?”

“Sophia!” he wheezes out, relieved. “Can you—will—” he stops, scrunching his eyes closed. “I’m having a panic attack, I think.”

“Searching for how to treat panic attacks,” she says immediately, and he sags into the cool plastic gratefully. “Deep breaths will help, slowly to the count of ten.”

His heart is beating so hard that he can barely hear the jingles and the whirrs of the machines around him. “Count out loud. Hurry, before he gets back.”

She does, and he grips the side of the chair as he focuses on breathing. The attack passes by faster than he hoped it would. “Thank god,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

“No prob,” she says, before hesitating. “Akira—”

“Will not know about this,” he cuts her off, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’ll tell him eventually, don’t worry, et cetera. I know all this. Ann’s been hounding me non-freakin’-stop. Just don’t tell him, Soph. Please.”

Before she can say anything, Akira comes back, pockets full of change and that signature small smile resting on his lips.

—

The bright side about missing out on Sapporo’s snow festival is having its tourism as its lowest point when you visit it in the summer.

Even the shopping district just outside Susikino isn’t very crowded; there’s the usual street vendors and shops with bright pastries and cute clothes. But even having it right beside the Sapporo Tower, it’s still nothing uncomfortable. At least, it’s not uncomfortable when you get to observe the environment through a phone lens.

“This is nice, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve had much of an opportunity to talk to you yet, which is quite rude of me.”

“No prob,” Sophia replies easily. She was swaying from Haru’s neck, hanging by a silicone phone holder that she had bought from a convenience store. Futaba had guffawed when she saw it, but Sophia’s happy about the purchase. It’s fun, and it lets her people watch from the perspective of one of her friends. “I have been meaning to talk to everyone one by one as to better understand each of you.”

“Oh, good! What better use of a nice chat while doing some shopping along the way?” Haru chirps, thumbing through a rack of out-of-season clearance sweaters as they pass. “I have to admit, I’m not the best when it comes to fashion and whatnot. Most of the time, I ask Ann-chan to accompany me.”

“I can try my best! Online websites are constantly updating in order to provide their readers with the newest trends.” Idly, she takes a peek. “Wide-legged pants are back in style.”

“That’s a relief,” she sighs. “I never pulled off skinny jeans too well. Long, flowy skirts have always been my thing. It just gives off such a nice aesthetic, doesn’t it?”

Sophia smiles. “I think you’d look good in anything. Have you considered going punk? You’d look very dope and intimidating with a black streak in your hair and a leather jacket.”

“Now that I can agree with, but that’s more Mako-chan’s style, I’m afraid.” She pauses. “Actually, I bet Mako-chan would actually like that. Sometimes I feel as though she isn’t willing to branch out of her circle of clothes past a pair of Oxfords and a deep-coloured sweater. A push might be what she needs.”

She considers this. “Is it possible to buy clothes for her? That can be a possible ‘push’, quote unquote.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so. She would never let us do such a thing.”

“One moment.” Pulling out a few files from inside her memory storage, she clears her throat. “According to my data analysis, Niijima Makoto has high difficulty straying away from well-mannered behaviours. Do you think that includes saying no to gifts given to her? That can be advantageous.”

Haru stops walking and pulls the phone up so that they’re at eye-level. “Sophia-chan,” she beams. “I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.”

They continue walking down the street when Haru gasps suddenly. “You literally can’t shop, can you?”

“Of course I can. I can get anything in the world for you,” she says proudly. “Anything.”

“Alright, we’ll have to test that later, but I mean you can’t use what you buy,” she frowns, eyes troubled. “Your sweater is adorable, but you’re forced to wear it everyday, right? Can you even do your hair differently? Is it possible for you to pin it, or even let it down?”

Sophia finds it endearing that she would let such a thing bother her. She doesn’t even have a social insurance number, but Haru’s worried about hair clips. “No, but I quite like it the way it is. It doesn’t get in the way when I do my work, and in the Metaverse, it gets completely hidden as to let me do my fighting,” she explains, karate chopping in her screen. “But I can understand the human desire for change.”

“Would you like that?” Haru asks gently. “To change? Um, change out of your clothes, and change mentally. Either one.”

“Change mentally, of course! I’d love to understand my friends better and understand how to help them. It’s a vast mountain of knowledge, but I’d want nothing more than to decode the mystery of the human heart,” she says eagerly. “But for clothes...I’m not sure. I haven’t tried it. I’m pretty sure I can’t try it.”

“That settles it,” Haru looks both ways before crossing the street, jogging slightly.

Sophia perks up. “If you’re heading somewhere specific, I can give you directions.”

“No need.” She has an intense, hungry look on her face, not unlike the one she had when the new axe Akira bought had finally arrived at their RV. “We’re just about here.”

They stop in front of a store, and she can barely read the sign from the phone’s angle. “‘Case in Point’?”

Haru pushes the glass door open, greeting the cashier. “It’s a phone modifier shop.”

There’s no effort to explain anything else, but Sophia can confidently add ‘anticipation’ onto her growing list of experienced feelings.

—

“Out of curiosity—” Haru begins as they exit the modifier store, the cashier still bug-eyed from the tip she had left at his counter. “Can you see everything inside Akira-kun’s phone?”

“Yes,” she replies. The environment that she lives in, and more specifically, Akira’s phone, is now a bright, perfectly polished shade of rose gold with a mint outline. A far cry from the matte black that it was before. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Her voice is sweet as sugar. “Out of curiosity once again, is there anything interesting? Anything worth noting?”

She jumps as Sophia’s voice suddenly morphs into Akira’s without warning. “Nice try,” the phone plays. “But no.”

And just as quick, Sophia comes back to the phone. “Sorry about leaving,” she says. “Akira had asked me to play that clip if someone ever, and I quote, ‘tried me.’”

Haru giggles. “Just like Akira-kun to be so thorough. Impressive as always, leader.” She peers down at her watch. “I suppose it’s about time to head back, isn’t it?”

“We still have eight minutes to spare.”

“We do. Perhaps we should take a stroll around the park?”

“Cool,” she says. “Wanna ask Futaba and Yusuke if they want to come with?”

“Sure?” Haru blinks. “That’s very specific.”

“On your two o’clock,” she points out. “In front of the book store.”

They watch as Futaba and Yusuke stand across the street from them. Futaba is aggressively pointing her finger at the books on display, then slapping her fist against her palm like she was devising a war strategy. Yusuke shakes his head wildly, comically putting his hands in his pockets and revealing that there was nothing inside. She sighs and walks away, tugging along a dejected boy behind her.

“Aren’t you going to ask them?”

“In a moment.” Haru takes them to the front of the store. “This isn’t a bookstore, I don’t think. What’s it called Sophia?”

After a quick search: “‘Sapporo’s School Supply Store’,” she says. “The alliteration makes it fun to say.”

“Indeed it does.” Peering into the store, Haru makes an introspective noise. “Now isn’t this interesting?” she hums. “Do you mind if I make one more purchase?”

“Not at all,” Sophia says, thrilled to add another point she had learned: If Haru wants something, there’s nothing that will get in her way.

—

“So,” Makoto starts, and Ryuji has to hold back a groan. He knows that tone. He’s memorized that tone. All the second years can feel her tone from a mile away. Hell, Ann probably took an instinctive step back just now. “Have you started to think about university?”

“Nope,” he says, wiping the sweat off his brow as they jog around the corner of Odori park. Back before he had left for his hometown, Akira and Ryuji would be up at dawn to train. Lately though, he’s been using any free time he has that isn’t planning for, prepping for, or actively doing a Jail run to sleep in the RV. And hey, he has no beef with Makoto, and it’s not like she can’t keep up with his training (she can most definitely kick his ass in hand-to hand), but she has a tendency to push when it comes to this sort of stuff. “Not a single thought towards it. It’s been pretty good, actually.”

“I can tell,” she agrees. “It’s almost like you blocked my number.”

“I did not!”

“So you actively choose not to answer any of my texts?”

“Ugh, don’t set me up like that,” he winces. “You know I’m stupid enough to fall for shit like that everytime.”

“Hold on.”

Ryuji grunts as he feels a hold on his shirt, forcing him to stop. “Ew, don’t touch my back, it’s Nigeria there.”

“First of all, it’s Niagara.” She spins him around. He’s only a little taller than her, but something about her always seems to tower over him. “Second, do you know why I keep pushing all of you to go to university?”

“Because you hate us?” he mumbles.

Makoto glares at him. “Try again.”

“...Because you don’t hate us?”

“Because I don’t hate you,” she repeats. “You’re all rowdy and wild and sometimes I don’t understand the jokes you make—”

“You’re just mad ‘cause you fell for a deez nuts joke.”

“But I do, inexplicably, love all of you,” she pushes on, and that shuts him up. “I know what you’re all capable of. Amazing things! I understand you all believe that I’m the be-all end-all, and I appreciate your compliments, but there are some things that only Ann can do, or Akira, or Yusuke.”

Makoto continues running, and he reluctantly follows suit. “And you. You can achieve things that I can’t even dream of, Ryuji.”

He resists the urge to yawn. “Thanks for the pep talk, Niijima.” Looking left, the gelato is looking real good. “Wanna get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“You aren’t very good at hiding secrets, Ryuji.”

Now that grabbed his attention. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there, prez!” Speeding past her, he holds out a hand to make her stop. “What do you mean by that?”

She raises a brow. “Nothing in particular, but your reaction is showing me that I should have meant something by it.”

He gnaws on the inside of his cheek roughly. “Okay, but why did that come into your brain? Why do you think I have some kinda secret?”

“I live with a prosecutor everyday of my life, of course I know when something’s afoot.” Pushing her hair back, she squints up at him. “You’ve been more...jumpy lately, yet somehow more laid-back than usual. I wanted to talk to Akira about this—”

Blood pours into his mouth when he accidentally bites too hard. “You talked to Akira?!” he half yells, red dribbling from the corner of his lips.

“Oh my god!”

“Fuck,” he clamps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Bit too hard.”

“N-no! Don’t apologize!” she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a napkin, pulling him to a stone ledge. “Sit and take this so you don’t bleed all over yourself. I’ll be back.”

He doesn’t bother speaking, only nods as she turns around. When she comes back, she’s holding a water bottle. “Here.”

Taking it gratefully, he takes deep gulps before spitting it out. “Why the hell does this taste like the beach?” he splutters.

“I didn’t say to drink it! It’s salt water to get rid of infections!”

“Why would you do that to me?!”

“Because I thought you knew to do that from the second-year health class!” she shoots back. “Gargle it and spit. Near the gutter, mind you, it’s rude to spit in front of kids. They might get the wrong idea.”

As if kids are gonna see him and think that there’s something worth remembering. He sips, sloshing it around his mouth before gently letting it dribble into the grated sewer. “Blegh.”

“You’re welcome. Keep at it. And while you’re doing that,” she sits next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “Do you want to tell me what’s been making you anxious?”

He pauses. “Anxious?”

Makoto gives him a stern look. “‘Experiencing worry, unease, or nervousness, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.’ It was covered in your midterm.”

“Ah, right,” he mutters. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, his heart is beating too quick for it to be normal. Then again, when was the last time it wasn't? “You think I’m anxious?”

“I’m not sure. Keep gurgling,” Makoto chides.

He does, the salt water still red whenever he spat, and she continues. “All I know is when my anxiety gets really bad, I chew on my lip. Sae used to chide me when we were younger, but you know, she got busy,” she shrugs, as if he didn’t know how much it pained her to lose her only family member to a career of protecting the wrong people. “When I mentioned it to Akira, he took it upon himself to check up on me regularly during exam weeks.”

To prove her point, she takes her lower lip and flips it out for him to see—white teeth marks, but old scars instead of anything fresh. Letting go, her expression is smug. “He hasn’t felt the need to check in for a while now.”

Spitting, water finally running clear, he grins. “Good for you. I’m glad to hear that, dude.”

“Thank you, but that wasn’t the point. My point was that I was only able to get better because I told someone about it. Someone I trusted.” Makoto turns to him, her gaze serious. “I know that’s what Akira is to you. Habits like these are harmless at first, but they can turn into something else more dangerous. I won’t stand for that. My own justice won’t stand for that.”

Ryuji opens his mouth, before closing it. I’ll tell Akira, he wants to say. How many times does he have to repeat that line before he starts believing it himself? “Okay,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can say without hating himself even more.

“Okay.” She pats his knee before standing. “I can get us some gelato.” She stretches, wincing as her joints crack into place. “If you’re feeling up to it, start your cool down. Unless you wanna keep training?”

“I’m good. Felt enough blood rush for the day.”

She goes to the ice cream stand, and he stares up at the blue sky.

Makoto’s right, because of fucking course she is. She’s right, he knows she’s right. But she doesn’t get it. To her, Akira’s a friend. A guy who helped her out and changed her life, yeah. If he hadn’t met her when she did, maybe she would’ve become a scummy adult who didn’t look up from market pricing and hedge funds.

But Ryuji? Ryuji would be dead without Akira. That’s a fact and a half.

To Makoto, Akira’s a friend. To Ryuji, he’s Akira, and you can’t be on a higher pedestal in his mind than that.

—

It was Yusuke who took the first step.

“Ann,” he greets cordially. “How do you do?”

She gives him a weird look. “Kinda trying to focus here,” she says, gesturing at the scene in front of them. They, Morgana, and Sophia were in the B team as they watched the rest of them try and get rid of the remaining Shadows in Mariko’s Jail, tersely attentive and waiting on Joker’s word in case they needed a last minute switch. The Jail was environmentally brutal; the ice underneath the soles of their shoes makes them skid more often than they’d like. It almost makes the fights seem quicker, one notch faster than usual.

Yusuke pays her dismissal no mind. “I, myself, am learning many new things lately. Can the same be said about you?”

In the corner of his eye, Futaba pauses typing on her laptop to face palm.

“Are you...” Ann says after a brief pause. “Is this a threat? Are you threatening me?”

“No—”

“Panther!” Akira’s clear voice rings out.

Ann dashes forward without question, high-fiving Morgana as they trade spots.

Futaba marches forward, glaring at Yusuke like he was crazy. “You dolt!” she hisses. “What was that supposed to be? I said be slick and cool, not act like a fool!”

“While I admire the rhyme scheme, I don’t understand what you want from me. That was as ‘slick and cool’ as I’m capable of,” he furrows his brow. “I even opened with a question that seemed as though the conversation would be a normal one, but then used that to transition into what I actually wanted to discuss.”

“Stop looking so proud of yourself and—”

“Fox!”

“Back in a moment,” he says before he’s gone, Makoto taking his place, leather uniform still smoldering from when she took a fire move head-on.

“What was that about?” Haru asks, swinging her axe like a picnic basket.

“Nothing, Noir,” Futaba sighs, plopping back into place where Ann had stood. Carmen had kindly left a warm patch of concrete in her wake. “Just Inari became a big ole’ dumb-dumb.”

“I see,” she hums. “So this has nothing to do with what you two have been conspiring about lately?”

Her eyes shot wide open. “Con...conspiring?” she stutters out. “What do you mean by—”

A particularly loud scream rips into the air, and everyone turns their heads to see Captain Kidd slam his hook into the ground, purple arms erupting from the snow and wiping out a huge chunk of Shadows all in one go.

“Hot damn,” Futaba says, directing her focus back to her laptop and making sure Ryuji has enough health to keep going.

“He’s strong,” Haru observes, all playfulness gone.

“Too strong.” After Futaba gives everyone on the main team a good amount of health, something on her screen makes her pause. “Huh…?”

“Noir.”

Haru turns around to see Makoto waiting for her. “I need to discuss something with you.”

“Of course,” she steps closer to her and drops her voice. “Is everything alright?”

“I’d bring this up with Joker, but I don’t want to bother him if I’m not sure if there’s anything wrong yet,” Makoto pushes her mask up. “But have you noticed Skull's been acting strange lately?”

“Mona!”

He swaps with Ann, her pigtails covered in snow. “Ugh,” she grimaces as she shakes it out. “I could try and melt it, but it’ll just drip down my back and freeze later on, and I do not want that.”

“Panther, I’d like your input as well, if you don’t mind,” Makoto says.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I was just talking to Noir about this, but did you notice anything strange about the way Skull’s acting lately?”

Ann takes a step back. “Well, what—No—I mean, that’s your opinion, I think!” she exclaims. “To me, Skull's acting is completely normal. He’s normal—actually, scratch that, he’s better than usual. Nothing about him is wrong, I think, and that’s pretty outstanding and impressive once you consider that he’s the one with the life-long injury. Not that that has to do with anything!” Ann yells. “I just wanted to point out how far he’s come, and how much he’s kicking ass right now. Actually,” her voice shifts to a stage whisper. “Don’t mention this because I don’t wanna cause drama, but Fox has been a little weird.”

“Weird how?” Makoto whispers back, looking extremely lost.

“Just earlier, he asked me how I was.”

“...I’m not following.”

“No, Panther-chan has a point,” Haru breaks in. “I can’t say for certain, but I have a strong feeling that Fox and—” she points at Futaba conspicuously. “Are up to something.”

“Sophie and Fox?” Ann breathes.

“Panther!”

“Damn, again? That’s what we get for going into an ice Jail,” she grumbles, swapping with Yusuke.

Haru sighs. “Panther-chan isn’t the best with context clues, is she?”

“Hello ladies,” Yusuke greets. “What were we discussing?”

Makoto gives him a suspicious look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His jaw drops, bewildered, but before he can say anything, Futaba waves him over. “Get your fox butt over here!”

“I...Alright,” he says, resigned.

“Look at them,” Makoto nods at the pair. “I think you’re onto something.”

“I think so too, but I don’t want to be too hasty. After all, the two of them are such good friends now; it would be unfair to assume negative outcomes without evidence, or at least confront them first,” Haru says nonchalantly.

She understands immediately. “You have evidence?”

“Something of the sort.”

“Noir!”

“Duty calls,” she gives her a thumbs up, before Ann comes back once again.

“I can’t wait for us to go to a really hot place again,” she kicks the snow with her heels. “Then I’ll be comfortably in the B team because all the Shadows have fire resistance to the max.”

“Oh good, she’s back,” Yusuke’s expression is one of relief.

“Fox—” Futaba warns without looking up from her laptop.

“Come here. There is something we would like to discuss with you.” Whether or not it was intentional, he rests his hand on the handle of his katana.

“Okay but before we start, I just wanna ask—what are you doing with Sophie?” Ann accuses. “It’s fine to be friends with her, but you have to be careful. She’s really susceptible to what we say right now, and if you try anything funny—”

“What are you even saying?” he says, offended. “I barely even talk to her!”

They all glance at Sophia, who had been standing perfectly still and silent. She gives them a wave. They all awkwardly wave back.

Makoto places a hand on Ann’s shoulder. “Panther, Noir meant Fox and Oracle.” Ann flushes red as she continues. “And while we’re all here, I wanted to bring this up with you as well. Have you all noticed something strange with Skull?” Futaba stops typing. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I think he’s extremely anxious about something. You all know that I’m an overthinker, so I might have the wrong idea but…” she trails off.

Futaba glances at Yusuke. Yusuke glances at Ann. Ann helplessly glances at Ryuji, still fighting alongside Akira and the others.

“I know nobody asked me,” they all jump a foot in the air when Sophia speaks beside them. “But I can at least confirm for suresies that there is something strange with Skull.”

“Which is…?” Makoto prods.

“I don’t know the specifics.” Ann, Yusuke, and Futaba let out a breath. “But he did have a panic attack recently.”

“I knew it!” Makoto snaps her fingers. “He’s had signs of being anxious, but I wasn’t too sure about it.”

“Queen!”

She runs out, and Ryuji comes in, looking exhausted but pleased. “Hey y’all, what were we talking about?”

It was dead silent before Sophia steps forward. “Look what I can do!” she exclaims, changing the expression on her screen to be an emoji with a flower.

“Whoa!” His eyes bug out, and they all sigh in relief. “That’s awesome! Can you do more?”

“That’s super cool Sophie, but,” Futaba looks at Ryuji, skeptical. “Don’t you feel weak right now? Your health is way down.”

“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Sophie, you mind?”

“Not at all.” She calls for Pithos and green sparkles fall on him. “Better?”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

“Skull!”

“When the king calls, his knight answers,” he salutes, sprinting out as Makoto comes back in.

“So,” she glares at the rest of them. “What do the rest of you know?”

Ann groans. “Even if I did know something, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

“Wait,” Futaba points an accusing finger at her. “What do you know?”

“What do I know? What do you know? And for that matter, what does he,” Ann points at Yusuke. “Know? Noir said you guys are doing secret stuff together!”

“That’s preposterous,” he scoffs. “If it was secret, she wouldn’t have known.”

“That’s the dumbest argument I’ve ever heard.”

“How is it dumb?” he asks. “You can’t possibly think that just because Futaba and I are doing ‘secret stuff’ that it has anything to do with Skull’s situation!”

There was a pause. “Are those two connected?” Sophia asks. Futaba buries her face in her hands.

“That was...not the question I expected,” Yusuke answers weakly.

“Sophie!”

“God, I wish Joker would call for Inari instead,” Futaba groans.

Rushing out, Sophia high-fives Ryuji on the way. “Guess who’s back, motherfuckers?”

In an effort to bury their conversation, they all begin cheering overenthusiastically, Yusuke clapping politely. Bewildered, Ryuji instinctively gives them a thumbs up. “Thanks guys. Usually, my jokes don’t really land, but that made me real happy.”

“Uh, Skull,” Futaba raises an eyebrow. “How do you keep losing health? I didn’t even notice you taking a hit.”

“I’m low again? Damn, I didn’t even notice,” he groans loudly. “Queen, can you—”

“I’m on it.”

Just as Johanna heals him, Akira calls out once again: “Skull!”

“Joker really does rely on you, doesn’t he?” Yusuke observes.

Ryuji laughs. If they didn’t know any better, they would think it sounded a little nervous. “Well, gotta jet!”

High-fiving Makoto, he runs out. She stares at the remaining members of the B team. “You all know something,” she accuses. “And I understand if you’re all being loyal to him by keeping what you know close to your hearts. But remember this:” she takes a step forward, and they all take an unconscious step back, Futaba scooting from where she sat on the ground. “There comes a point where it’s actually more important to keep a person safe and healthy than to uphold a potentially dangerous secret.”

They all digest her words for a second, and flinch when a flash of blue flame appears, taking Akira’s Persona away.

“Finally.” He stretches his shoulders, satisfied. “That took awhile. Good work everyone, let’s keep going.”

Making their trek deeper into the Jail, Futaba half-jogs, half-speed walks to Ryuji. “Your health again,” she chides. “Seriously. I know I like to play around, but I always have my eye on you guys when you’re fighting. I literally have not seen you take a hit, but you’re getting drained like milk in a sink.”

He shrugs, unperturbed. “Whatever. You see my hits today, though? They were tough.”

“Yeah,” she agrees reluctantly. “But your health is still low. I’ll call Joker about that.”

Before she can turn, he grabs her wrist. “Nope,” he says. “I’ll ask Panther. Thanks though!”

Ryuji goes to Ann, and he can feel everyone’s eyes on him, watching him, surveying his every move.

All eyes except for the one that really matters.

#p5 #p5s #yusuke kitagawa #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #ryuji sakamoto #akiryu #pegoryu #chapter two! neat #akira kurusu #persona 5

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knight-queen · 3 years

Text

Lunatic Parade Subaru Sakamaki– (Chapter 4)

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Place: Hotel • Mortstein,Guest room / ホテル•モーントシュタイン客室

Yui: (I feel like tiredness is still left on my body but...I must refresh myself.)

(Umm...Subaru kun is…)

Subaru: nh...nnn…

Yui: (He’s still sleeping…)

Subaru kun, good morning.

...Time to get up already!

Subaru: ……

Yui: (Oh no, he’s not in the mood to get up…)

Subaru ku一

Subaru: Nnh...whatta disgusting pillow…

Yui: Eh…!?

*Holds her*

Yui: (...kh…!)

(He’s misunderstanding me by thinking that I’m his pillow or something…!)

Subaru: Nnnh…

(On the first day, he was the one to say “Do not cross over on his bed-part…!”, but now he’s…!)

Subaru: ……

Yui: (What shall I do?)

→ Selection

Forcibly rub / 無理矢起理こす

Let him just sleep quietly / そっと寝かせておく(+Correct)

Yui: (But…)

(He was more exhausted than I was, so it should be okay to let him sleep a little bit more.)

(...Aight, it’s decided.)

Subaru: Zzz….

Yui: (Fufu...looks like he’s having a peaceful time while sleeping.)

(May it’s good that he didn’t wake up….!)

*After a moment*

Subaru: Nng…?

*Fades to CG*

Subaru: ……

Yui: (H- he woke up…?)

Subaru: …...Yui?

Yui: Eh...Err...good morning…

Subaru: ...kh!

Wha...What are you doing here!?

This was my bed-part! Do ye’ think it’s alright to enter my bed-side like this!?

Yui: (He’s saying the same thing he said on the 1st day…)

Yo- you’re wrong…! When I was about to wake you up, then you did this while sleeping…!

Subaru: HAAH!? ME!?

kh...I see.

Yui: (Uuh...this situation is embarrassing…)

A- anyways! You have to wake up already!

Subaru: Tch...I have to huh. I’m gonna wake up…

*CG Fades*

Yui: (Last day of the parade…)

(If we complete the orders of the antique art-dealer, we can properly apologize to Earl Walter afterwards…)

(I must get back my heart from him…!)

Place: Aizen Stahl, Antique Art Store / アイゼンシュタール古美術商店

Yui: Hello, good morning!

Antique Art Dealer: Ooh, you two! I have been waiting. How’s your condition?

Yui: We’re already fine. Thank you for carrying us all the way up to the hotel yesterday.

Antique Art Dealer: Nope, don’t worry about that.

Subaru: If so, then don’t leave such notes which reach my nerves.

Yui: Wai- Subaru kun…!

Subaru: Hmph. And...What’s the last task?

We aren’t gonn’ have a leisure time today after all.

Antique Art Dealer: That’s right. Well then, I shall present today’s mission for you.

I want two of you to search…

My pet.

Yui: Ehh…!?

Subaru: Your pet!?

Antique Art Dealer: Mhm. When I took my pet to the Saint Honore Park today, it escaped away.

Yui: Escaped away...Err, by the way, what kind of pet…?

Antique Art Dealer: A parrot.

Subaru: Haah!? Is there any idiot to ever exist who’ll take a parrot outside!?

Antique Art Dealer: You can see, right in front of you.

Subaru: Don’t ye’ talk back!

Yui: Th- there, there...we’ve got no other options since it ran away…

Let’s go searching?

Subaru: Aah...right…

Yui: (Parrot huuuh...I hope we can find that out without any troubles…)

Place: サントノレパーク通り/ Saint Honoré Park, Street

Yui: (We’ve come here but…)

...It’s unbelievably crowded compared to the first day…

Subaru: ...Haah...earsore…

Yui: If there’s so many people, then we can’t ask around one by one.

Where should we get started…

???: Oh my? Could it be you two are…

Yui: (Hm…?)

Clown A: Yeah, looks like so! We’ve also met before!

Yui: Ah…!

Subaru: You are…!

Yui: (He’s the Mr Clown that we had met on the first day…!)

Clown A: Seems like you are being in trouble in this amusement park this time too~

Oh, plus did you find the head-mask?

Yui: Ah, yes! Thank you for helping us that time!

Clown A: Don’t mention it. By the way, are you trying to find something today as well?

Subaru: Yeah...we’re searching a parrot around.

Clown A: Parrot? ...Could it be that belongs to the person who was screaming today saying his pet escaped away?

Subaru: That’s right. We must gotta find out that old guy’s parrot.

Yui: Have you seen it somewhere?

Clown A: Umm...I’ve seen that today, but I don’t know where it is now…

Yui: I get you…

Clown A: Ah, that’s right! What if we distribute everyone a notice-poster?

Subaru: Poster?

Clown A: Exactly! Since there are so many visitors here today and,

If we pass out posters about this everyone, then you may find that pet out quickly.

Of course, we will support you in delivering those posters.

Yui: No kidding!?

Clown A: Sure thing! We also have a debt of gratitude for your show-performance.

Yui: What should we do? Subaru kun

Subaru: It can't be any help just by asking four or five. If it’s the case then I’ll agree on passing out posters or whatever it takes.

Yui: Aight, let’s start making posters right away!

*After a while*

Yui: (It’ll be better if it has an illustration which is easier to understand and helpful to find out.)

(Drawing a parrot is difficult but...I can count on the photo that they’ve shown us a while ago…)

Subaru: ………

Yui: ...Alright, it’s done!

I’ve drawn it this way, how’s it!?

(I’m thinking it looks good even someone like me has drawn it…)

Subaru: ……

...Isn’t that a crumbled cake?

Yui: Eeeh!? You’re wrong, it’s a parrot!?

Subaru: ...My bad, but whatever it’s looking like, it doesn’t look like a parrot…

Yui: N- no way…

Subaru: Parrot...hm...I also don’t know that much though…

*he starts drawing*

Subaru: ...Shouldn’t it...pretty much look like this?

Yui: Wah...cool…! It’s a parrot…!

You’re unexpectedly good at painting!

Subaru: Surprisingly you say, but it’s needless. By the way...you’re awfully unskilled.

Yui: Uuh…

(I can’t say anything back about it…)

...Anyway, I think we should now scatter so many copies of it.

Clown A: Leave it to me!

I’m gonna distribute in the middle of this park, soI bet you can get some kind of information!

Yui: W- we’re looking forward to that!

(I hope we’ll get a little bit of information by doing it…)

*After a while*

Clown A: Heyy!

Subaru: What’s up?

Clown A: Looks like we’ve come up to know something at once! That pet it possibly in the street over there!

Yui: (Looks like it was effective to make posters!)

Let’s go there!

Place: サントノレパーク通り/ Saint Honoré Park, Street

Subaru: Fuck, where did that damn parrot go!?

Yui: ーAh! Look, Subaru kun! It’s on the roof of the attraction box office!!

Subaru: Tch...this guy playing stupid with us arround…!

Yui: (...It has reached such a place like in the roof huuh…)

*parrot screeches*

Yui: What now, if we just wait here then it’s gonna fly away…!

Subaru: ...I’m gonna fly there and get that.

Yui: Eh!? You can’t! That parrot is pretty big plus...

Subaru: If I take a lot of time just climbing on the roof, it’s gonna run away.

Yui: But…

Subaru: Just be quiet and wait ‘re.

….gh…

*Footsteps*

Yui: (Hm…? Ah, the child is…!)

Subaru kun, waitー

*Screen shakes*

Subaru: ...kh, haa?

Vampire Children C: Ah...I’m so sorrー

Ah...my ice-cream is…

Yui: (It fell off when he collided…?)

Subaru: Oi! Look front while walking! It’s dangerous!

Yui: Su- Subaru kun, calm down…

Err...are you okay?

Vampire Children C: Uuh...my ice-cream...it fell…*crying*

Yui: (He’s crying…!? Oh no!?)

Subaru: Tch...stop it…

Anyway, I am gonna get the parrー

*Parrot flies away*

Subaru: Oii!! Wait up!!

Yui: (It escaped…)

Subaru: Of shit...I was very close…

Vampire Children C: Uuuh….uuuh…

Subaru: ...che.

Yui: (I’m Subaru kun is very angry?)

I- I am sure...this child didn’t get bumped onto you willinー

Subaru: Yeah...I’m aware of that.

Oi, brat.

Vampire Children C: ….Big brother, I’m so sorry...it was my fault…

Subaru: That doesn’t matter now. Above that...you dropped your ice cream huh.

Vampire Children C: Y- yes…

Subaru: ...Which shop is selling it? I’m gonna buy you a new one in exchange.

Yui: Subaru kun…!

Subaru: Even though it’s just an ice-cream to me...but to this brat, maybe it’s something more than that.

Yui: (I see...so that’s why…)

Vampire Children C: Thank you, Oniichan, Oneechan!

|| Oniichan means big brother and Oneechan means big sister in Japanese.

The shop is right over there! I’ll lead you the way.

Monologue

After this, the boy take us to the shop but一

We were too late, so the ice-creams were already sold out.

This child who was tearing up Subaru kun bought him a pudding from a different shop. For that, somehow he stopped crying.

For a moment, I thought what bad could come up, but the boy returned to his parents while waving his hand to us putting on a smiling face at last 一

End of Monologue

Yui: At the end, that boy was having a happy face right….!

Subaru: Aah...with this, finally it got settled.

Yui: Yes. Thanks for working hard.

Subaru: Well...time to go back for the main task. We’ve lost so much time for sure but 一

*Parrot screeches*

Yui: Eh...that sound of a bird…! It means…!

*Flies*

Yui: Kyaa…!

(Now, it just flies though in front of us!?)

Subaru: That bastard...found it…! This time I ain’t let ‘em escape for sure!

Place: Gardening Shop / 園芸店

Yui: Haah….kh...haah…

(We had to run quite a bit...this place...a granening shop…?)

*Parrot screeches*

Subaru: Tch...where is it planning to go…!

Place: Garnering Shop, Glasshouse/ 園芸店温室

Yui: (It’s taking us in such kind of places…)

(Ah...it has stopped on this tree…!)

Subaru kun, it’s the right chance, yes?

Subaru: 一Hold it. Don’t go now.

Yui: Eh...but why…?

Subaru: The tree where the parrot standing is...the Devil’s Tree.

Yui: Devil’s Tree…?

Subaru: This is a tree which reacts to a small stimulus and aimlessly attacks the ones who will go nearby it...

Once you get entwined with it’s branches, it won’t be easy to escape away from it.

Yui: Such a tree is…

Subaru: Yeah...that’s why the only way is to secretly go near it and wait for the perfect chance…

Do ye’ even try to make noises that much.

Yui: Yes…

(I’ll do my best…)

Subaru: ...Aight, just a bit一

Clown A: Oooi~! You two!

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: Aah!?

Clown A: That’s good! I’ve been searching for you!

Subaru: Oi, ye’ dummy! Be quiet!

Clown A: Eh? What do you just say?

Subaru: I said...SHUT UP!!

*Slightly hit the tree*

Yui: Ah, Subaru kun, if you do so, then the tree will…!

Subaru: Ah, oh no…!

*The tree starts attacking*

Yui: Kyaaa!?

(The branch is...wrapped around my body…!)

Subaru: Che…! Let go!!

*Punch*

Yui: Oh no, if you do so then, again…!

*Screen shakes*

Subaru: Uwaa!?

Yui: Kyaaaa!?

*After a while*

Place: Diamante Fountain / ディアマンテ泉

Subaru: Haah...oh shit, we had to face something terrible…

Yui: Yes...you’re right…

(In the conclusion, when一)

(We couldn’t move at all, then we were somehow saved…)

Clown A: I’m sorry...I thought to give you the information about the parrot right away and…

Subaru: Even if so, there was a Devil Tree out there

You knew that, no!?

Yui: W- well, well...but he didn’t have any bad-intention and also…

If Mr. Clown wouldn’t help us then I don’t know what bad could happen…

Subaru: Tch…

...It’s fine. Chasing after that parrot comes first over anything now.

Yui: (Exactly...Before a while, the parrot escaped away when we couldn’t move ourselves for that tree…)

Clown A: If it runs away even if you chase after that then,

What about luring out that parrot instead?

Yui: Luring…? Even if you say that, but how 一

Subaru: No, wait. There’s a way I guess.

Yui: Eh…?

Subaru: You see, that Old-Uncle mentioned before. The tarts which is selling out in the Tart • Tatan. Tarts are it’s favorite dish.

Yui: So, if we lure the parrot using tarts…

Subaru: ...We’ll be able to catch that for sure.

Clown A: Tart • Tatan is nearby this place, however一

Subaru: Near? Then we’re on our way.

Yui: Yes…!

(Let’s do our best so it’ll go smoothly…!)

*They walks away*

Clown A: ...However, tarts may have gotten sold out since today’s the last day of the Parade, I wanted to say.

I hope everything’s gonna be okay…

Place:Tart Tatan,Glimmer Street Shops /タルト• タタングリンマーストリート店

Yui: ...kh…!

Subaru: Aah? What’s up with this crowding…!

Yui: An- anyway, let’s ask the people whether this shop’s selling out tarts or not.

Err, excuse me! We want to take-out some well-known tarts from this shop…

Tart • Tatan Clerk: My sincere apologies. We’ve served too many customers today so,

So the tarts which were for take-out have already sold out…

Yui: So- sold out…!?

Subaru: Then, it’s okay even if we don’t take-out that. We can get the tarts by using the reserving-food method.

Yui: Oh, that’s right. Sorry for that, then we’re gonna reserve tarts for 2 person一

Tart • Tatan Clerk: Actually...the reservation is not available since the customers have already filled that over…

Subaru: What!?

Yui: S-such…!

(We had come this far but…)

Subaru: ...At the end, the only way is to chase after that huh…?

Yui: As you see, it’s the only way I think…?

???: Ah! Oniichan! Oneechan!

Yui: Eh, this voice…

Ah, look Subaru kun! The child who’s waving his hand to us is….

Subaru: Ah? ...It’s the kid from the before.

Yui: (Ne-nevertheless, the food that’s decorated like a mountain on their table is...Tart…!)

Vampire Child C: What are you doing here?

Yui: Umm…

Subaru: Honestly, I don’t wanna ask for the tart to a kid but...we got no other choices…

Yui: Looks like...so…

(I don’t know if he can give us one or two tarts but...let’s try it by asking him…)

Well, you see…

*After the conversation*

Yui: ...that’s what happened.

Vampire Children C: That parrot, it’s the bird that I saw while I collided with Oniichan?

Subaru: Yup, that one.

Vampire Children C: I see. Then I’ll ofcourse give you! It will do, right?

Father: You two were the ones who gave my son pudding, huh.

I am sorry that earlier my child has burdened you with unreasonable things. If this tart will come out handy then take as much as you want.

Yui: Eh, really!?

Father: Ofcourse. You were the one who took care of my child earlier.

Mother: Yeah, we’re really grateful for that.

Yui: Thank you so much!

Subaru: No kidding…?

Your kindness has come out as a huge help…

Yui: Y-yeah….?

(It makes me happy that he said it but…)

(But we don’t have time for that.)

Yui: Then, let’s use this tart and lure out the parrot!

Thank you so much!

Vampire Children C: Mhm, do your best!

Place: Onyx Tower, Inside Hall / オーニュクスタワー内部ホール

Yui: Phew...is it okay to arrange these like this?

Subaru: Yeah...all we can do now is to just wait.

Yui: (I spread it here, from where the smell should get spread the most but…)

(I really hope it’ll come, please…!)

*Wind blows + parrot comes*

Subaru: ….Hm?

Yui: Ah!

(It comes…!)

*parrot(s) screech*

...here, they go!?

(For some reason, so many of them have come!?)

Subaru: Oi, oi, what’s going on!? Where did they come from!

*Parrot(s) screech*

Yui: (Wah...they all have started to eat these all at once…)

Subaru, what can we do!? I am not that sure which one of them is the parrot that we’ve been searching…

Subaru: Me neither! By the way, the fastest way will be to get the Old-Uncle for conforming.

Which’s why...we gotta catch all of ‘em right now…!

*After a moment*

Yui: Haah...hah...kh…haah…

Subaru: ....kh...with this...we’re done catching each of them…?

Yui: Pr- probably…

(We’ve caught all of them when they’ve gone crazy eating the tarts but…)

(But I’m tired beyond my imagination…)

Subaru: ...Haah...now, we gotta call out that old-uncle for confirming in one of these一

Antique Art Dealer: 一Oh my, oh my...you have caught unexpected number of them.

Subaru: kh...you…!

Antique Art Dealer: Yeaah, I’ve come here to visit when I heard that so many parrots are gathered on the top of the tower…

I didn't think you’d catch so many of them.

Subaru: I think yer’ parrot in one of them! Check out!

Antique Art Dealer: Mhm, I will.

Subaru: ……

Yui: ……

(God please…! I hope his parrot is one of these…!)

Antique Art Dealer: ...Yup! This one!

*Parrot screeches*

Yui: Eh...It means…

Antique Art Dealer: Yeah, your mission is complete!

Subaru: OH YAAAAY!!

Yui: (That’s great…! Finally we’re done with these…!)

Subaru: Oi, you’re satisfied now I guess. Then hurry up and handover the things that ya’ promised us.

Antique Art Dealer: Ofcourse, I am aware of that.

Look, I’ve brought those with me.

Yui: (Ah...that’s right...it’s not over yet.)

(We have to go to the place where Earl Walter is.)

Subaru: Finally we’ve got to the starting point…

Yui: (Subaru kun had to face so many difficult things till now, yet…)

(He’s still dealing with these …)

Yui: Umm...Subaru kun, I am sorry...you’re having so much trouble for me…

Subaru: Ah? What are you saying such things, don’t worry.

It was originally my fault starting with and…

...I am gonna go to meet Earl Walter. You wait here.

Yui: Eh...But…

Subaru: I’ll...hurry up and get back your heart at once.

Who can be silent to a guy who’s doing whatever he wants to with any kind of people around.

Yui: Subaru kun…

Subaru: Ah...which is why...you should just be silent and listen to what I say. *blushing*

Yui: Yes…

But, I can’t make you feel hurt all by yourself.

That’s why I also want to go and apologize with you.

Subaru: ...Tch, do as you wish.

Antique Art Dealer: ...Hehehe. You don’t have to go there.

Subaru: Ah? What? What’s so funny?

*BG blurred to white*

Subaru: ...kh…!?

Yui: Wh- what!?

(Smoke is getting filled here…! I can’t see the front…!)

Antique Art Dealer?: ...You two did well.

Yui: (Eh...this voice…)

Subaru: ...kh, this bastard is, Walter!?

Earl Walter: Kukuku...Hahaha…!

*BG is back*

Yui: (Ah...the smoke disappeared一)

*Clothing sound*

Earl Walter: ...Is it the first time to see me in this appearance?

Yui: You are...Earl Walter…?

Earl Walter: Certainly. I have been observing your actions very closely.

Subaru: Closely you say...you mean by distinguishing yourself to an old-man!?

What was that...it means we’ve been rushing around for abiding your orders all these times…

Earl Walter: I think that I was a little bit mean with you. However, you were the one to break the goods of my castle to begin with.

This is why I wanted you to feel grief by doing these tasks.

Subaru: ...Hmph.

Earl Walter: ...Then, we shall move onto the main issue. Yui Komori, I’m talking about your heart.

Yui: ...Yes.

Earl Walter: The fact that you’re the one and only person who’s worthy to possess this treasure,

I have gotten the proof of this claim clearly with my own eyes.

...Therefore, I shall give your heart back.

*Heart’s pounding*

Yui: ...kh…

*Screen’s white for an instant*

Yui: (...kh...for a moment, I felt something strange in my body…)

(My heart is...back…?)

Subaru: ...Oi, you alright?

Yui: I- I think so…?

Subaru: ...ngh…

*Subaru gets closer + loses her dress*

Subaru: Kyaa…!?

Subaru: ...I’m gonna confirm it. ….nnnh...mnn…!

Yui: ...eek…!

(His fangs are…)

Subaru: ...Haah...mnn…!

...Haah...the taste is the same as always…

(Eh...it means…!)

Earl Walter: Heh...told you right? “I’ll give her heart back.”

Yui: ...Thank you very much!

(I’m relieved now…!)

Earl Walter: From here on, walk on your life by being worthy of having this heart.

Yui: Yes…!

Subaru: We'd know it even if you wouldn’t say!

Earl Walter: ...Fufu, good.

Well then...the finale of the parade is coming soon…

Enjoy that till the end upto your heart's content.

With this, I am going to take my leave.

Earl Walter: Kukuku...Hahaha!

*Sound*

Yui: (Ah...he disappeared…)

Subaru: Jeez, what was wrong with that guy…

Yui: Yes...he’s a very mysterious person.

(But…)

(I feel like he has taught us a very important lesson.)

The END of Chapter O 4 一

#subaru sakamaki #diabolik lovers #lunatic parade #lunatic parade subaru sakamaki chapter 4 #diabolik lovers translations

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

Text

Stanuary ‘21 - Week Three: Crime

I decided to go with one of my favorite AUs, my Superhero/villain AU, and write a scene that I should have written a while ago, to be honest. Namely, Ford convincing Stan to give up a life of crime and become a hero like he always wanted.

Shout-out to the ficlet “Farmer’s Market”, by @mythomagically-delicious, which takes place in an AU of the Superhero/villain AU. I drew some heavy inspiration from it. ;)

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

Stan made a mad dash for safety. He ducked into an alley just before the police following him rounded the corner and crouched behind a dumpster.

“Think he went in there?” one of the cops asked, nodding at the alley Stan was hiding in.

Shit! Stan took a deep breath, trying to steady his breath. No, stay calm, Stan. It’s fine. You have a backup plan, remember? As if on cue, said backup plan went into effect. There was a loud bang in the distance. Stan didn’t want to look and risk being spotted, but he knew from experience that his distraction was producing enormous plumes of ash-colored smoke.

“He’s a pyro, that’s gotta be him!” the other cop said. The two rushed off towards the planted smoke bomb and away from Stan. Still, Stan waited a few minutes to be sure. Once he was positive the coast was clear, he emerged from his hiding spot.

“Damn,” he breathed. His smoke bomb was still billowing, filling the sky with gray. “I mighta souped that one up a bit more than I needed to.”

Not long ago, Stan had discovered he could use his pyrokinesis to enhance the effects of smoke bombs. That discovery led to him learning how to make his own. Unfortunately, the method he’d used to improve store-bought smoke bombs didn’t work for his homemade ones, so he had to develop a new one. All in all, he’d invested a lot more time than he’d care to admit into his smoke bomb research.

At least it’s paying off now. The smoke bomb showed no sign of slowing down. Damn, I might have accidentally caused more smoke damage than fire damage. Stan shook his head, dispelling those thoughts. Get back to your car, get outta dodge before the cops come back and get a look at your face. Stan trudged out of the alley. He seamlessly joined the crowds that had gathered to stare at his latest disturbance.

As he mingled with the rubberneckers, Stan’s ears picked up on a nearby conversation that, for some reason, stood out more than the background muttering.

“What could cause that amount of smoke?”

“A fire.”

“Well, yes, but they put out the fire already! And the smoke isn’t coming from where the fire was.”

“My lil brother used to prank our older brother with smoke bombs…”

“Could a smoke bomb be responsible for this?”

“Only if there’s a pyro behind it.”

Stan ducked his head and picked up his pace, hoping to get far away from the two men and their eerily accurate discussion. He quickly arrived at the Stanleymobile and got in. But not until the town had faded into the distance, did he allow himself to relax.

Okay. Back to the drawing board. Can’t use a smoke bomb that attracts that much attention.

-----

Stan finally straightened his back, stretching to dispel the kinks that came from hunching over a desk for hours on end. He was back in his crappy motel room, trying to do something about his overeager smoke bombs. So far, he hadn’t had much luck.

The news blared on the TV. After a lot of trial and error, Stan had found that the news was just loud enough to provide background sound, but just boring enough to avoid being a distraction.

“In another blow to peace in the Middle East-” the newswoman began. Stan grabbed the remote.

“Nope,” he said, turning off the TV. He stood and stretched. “I’ve got my own problems, lady, I don’t need to hear about other peoples’.” His stomach rumbled.

…I could use a snack. Just as Stan was heading for the place he’d stashed his bags of chips, he felt a tingling sensation akin to feet falling asleep spread throughout his body, starting at his toes and gradually reaching his head. Though it felt familiar, it took him a moment to place it. He blinked, and he wasn’t in the motel room anymore. But the dorm room he was in now looked just as bad.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re not nude,” said the man standing in front of Stan. “It’s been some time since I summoned a person, and I was worried I might accidentally leave your clothes behind.” Stan crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow.

“You say ‘thank goodness’ now, Ford?” he asked dryly. Ford looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I might have picked it up from my roommate.”

“Good for you. Now, tell me where the hell I am so that I can go back to where I was,” Stan said. Ford blinked.

“You’re not curious as to why I summoned you after all this time?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Look, Sixer, if you wanted a nice, brotherly chat, you would’ve summoned me back when Pops first kicked me out,” Stan snapped. He fought down the small amount of happiness he felt at seeing his twin again. “But it’s been years. Which means either someone’s dead or you want something from me. And whichever one it is, I don’t care.” Stan turned on his heel and stormed for the door. As he put his hand on the doorknob, Ford spoke.

“I know,” Ford said softly. “You don’t care about me, about yourself, or anyone else.” Stan paused.

“Why do you think I don’t care about myself?” he asked.

“Because you’ve given up.” Ford interpreted Stan’s continued silence as permission to continue. “You’ve given up on the thing that gave you drive our entire lives.”

“What?”

“Being a hero,” Ford said simply. Stan’s hand fell away from the door. His heart pounded in his ears. “I saw your latest arson on the news. Actually, I saw it in person. My roommate and I were shopping in the store next to the one you set on fire.” Stan looked over his shoulder.

“You’re not gonna snitch on me, are you?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good.” Stan fully turned around. He let his hands burst into flames. “It wouldn’t end well for you if you did.” Ford didn’t react to the threat. At least, not in the way Stan expected. Rather than blowing up at him or scoffing, Ford just stared at Stan, evidently sorrowful.

“Have you really gone that far astray?” Ford asked. Stan’s mouth went dry. “Would you hurt your own twin?”

“Where’s all this coming from, huh?” Stan demanded. “What, I set a building on fire and suddenly you’re worried about me? After spending all this time pissed at me?” He threw his hands, still aflame, up in the air. “That was the secret all along! I shoulda committed a crime in front of you years ago!” That got the reaction Stan expected. Ford’s worried frown twisted into a snarl.

“I despise what you did to me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to throw your life away!” Ford snapped. “Ever since we were kids, you wanted to be a hero. You worked hard to follow in Mom’s footsteps. But now? You’re perfectly fine with burning down stores and setting off smoke bombs?”

“Why do you care?!” Stan roared.

“Because I’m the reason you’re letting all your potential go to waste!” Ford shouted. Stan stared at him in shock, the fire around his hands finally smothered. Ford’s eyes widened. He looked away. Stan stepped forward.

“What do you-”

“You heard me,” Ford said tartly. He looked down at his feet. “I- I hate what you did to me. But I can’t deny my role in your current situation.” Stan opened his mouth. “And the reason why I summoned you now…” Ford took a steadying breath. “I started feeling guilty the moment Mom kicked out Pops for what he did. But I’ve been able to stifle that guilt under anger.”

“Until today.”

“Until today,” Ford repeated. He took another breath. “When I realized you had committed that arson, I knew you had given up on your dream of being a hero, and I couldn’t ignore the guilt any longer.”

“Why?”

“Honestly?” Ford looked up at Stan. He managed a weak smile. “Because you’d be a damn good superhero, Stanley. You could do so much, help so many people, save lives! And that’s been your goal since we were children.”

“Because I could help other people.”

“Because it’s what you were meant to do. Mom saw that in you, even before your powers manifested. I saw that in you. Hell, Pops saw it in you, too.” Stan raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “He saw it in you,” Ford insisted. He rubbed the back of his neck. “He just didn’t care about supers.”

“You’re right about that,” Stan said. He cleared his throat. “And you might be right about the other things, too.” Ford perked up. “Everything’s not suddenly hunky-dory, just so you know.”

“I know. I have negative feelings towards you that have yet to be resolved.”

“Yeah. Same for me, but in a less nerdy way,” Stan said. Ford rolled his eyes. “But…” Stan trailed off. He sighed. “I turned to a life of crime ‘cause I didn’t have a choice. But I never felt that great about it.” A faint smile quirked the corners of Stan’s mouth. “Call it Mom’s influence. I couldn’t quite shake the feeling I was meant to follow in her footsteps.”

“Of course not. You were meant to become a hero,” Ford said. Stan’s smile grew stronger. “We both have issues to work out, between the two of us, but I don’t want you to give up on your destiny.” Stan let out a bark of laughter.

“Destiny, huh?” He grinned at Ford. “Well, when you say it like that, I can’t really say you’re wrong, can I?” Ford smiled back.

“So you’ll give up crime?”

“Yeah.” Stan cocked his head thoughtfully. “Not until after I fill up the Stanleymobile one more time, though. She’s running low on gas. Once that’s done, I’ll go back on the straight and narrow. Just gotta figure out how to join the Defenders or whatever.”

“There’s a newer team on the West Coast that I think you have a better chance at joining,” Ford said. Stan shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll look into ‘em.” Ford nodded in relief. “Oh, by the way, remember our deal?”

“Deal?”

“Every time you summon me without warning, you owe me food,” Stan said.

“Wh- we made that agreement when we were children!”

“And I’m holding you to it,” Stan said. “I’m guessing you brought me back into town when you summoned me?”

“Yes.”

“My motel isn’t too far away, so I’ll be back at 6 for dinner.” Ford sighed.

“Very well.”

“See you then.” Stan opened the dorm room door and strolled out, whistling. As he walked out, Ford’s roommate Fiddleford walked in. Fiddleford looked curiously at Ford.

“Ya had a visitor while I was out?”

“Yes.”

“Was it a good visit?”

“Yes. It was.”

“That’s nice.” Fiddleford walked over to his bed and set his bag down. “I found what I wanted at the library.”

“What were you looking for, again?”

“Blueprints.”

“For?” Ford pried. A devious twinkle appeared in Fiddleford’s eyes.

“Haywood Hall.”

“The building that all our school records are kept in?”

“Yessir!” Fiddleford chirped. He began to dig around in his bag. “Surprisingly easy to get.”

“I’m shocked that they even allowed you to check them out of the library,” Ford said. Fiddleford hummed noncommittally. Ford’s eyes widened.

Wait, Stan doesn’t have the Stanleymobile. How is he going to get back to his motel? Ford closed his eyes and focused. A surge of power flowed through him. There was a shout from outside.

“What the fuck?!” Ford walked over to the window and looked out. Stan stood in the parking lot, staring at his red El Diablo. He looked up at the dorm. After a moment, he lifted his middle finger.

Ford snickered.

#Stanuary #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Superhero/villain AU #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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