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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

tell.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!

words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events

summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders.

Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.

You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast.

Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas.

You squint at him. “Am I early?”

He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Of course. I wanted -”

Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!”

You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile.

“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king.

Or, rather, two kings.

“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?”

His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.”

Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.

Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.”

“Really? That sounds like so much fun.”

What you mean is, What, with your bad back?

“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say -

Yep. I feel like shit.

“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?”

You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs.

So much for grown-up plans...

+++

You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in.

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket.

He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.”

That’s not a good tone.

Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth.

“Did they raise the terror alert?”

Shit.

“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -”

With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods.

You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom.

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.”

You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour.

Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line.

+++

Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess.

You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.”

The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.”

+++

When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek.

“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own.

“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.”

“Understandable.”

His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”

JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit.

+++

“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up.

Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?”

“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.”

That doesn’t make much sense.

You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?”

“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes.

Of course they did.

“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth.

“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you.

“So why are we here now?” Dave asks.

“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.”

Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them?

“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.”

Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?”

“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds.

+++

As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible.

Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.”

JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”

“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.”

That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway. “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”

Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.”

They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side.

You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered.

JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.”

“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.”

You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.”

You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer.

When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment.

Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.”

“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.”

Of course he did.

“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond.

You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too.

“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.”

Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.”

Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?”

“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.”

You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.”

Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.”

Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.”

Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?”

She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.”

And so it begins.

+++

“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?”

You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.”

Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything.

“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone.

Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!

“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?”

The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.”

Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.”

You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself.

A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder.

“I can't do that. I need the leverage.”

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.”

You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth.

A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line.

“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up.

Shit.

+++

“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.”

The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension.

“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?”

You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.”

“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath.

When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise.

But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!

You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss.

+++

With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related.

While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon.

“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.”

Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face.

“Is she…”

You get closer, looking up at the monitor.

“...putting on lipstick?”

You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.”

You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek.

“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic.

The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second.

Well, that couldn’t have been any worse.

You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing.

+++

Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.”

At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.”

The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.”

Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.

“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.”

Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.”

“Right.”

Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful.

Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?”

The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.”

Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.”

Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole.

Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you.

I’m okay.

He nods as Erin speaks again.

“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best.

Dave responds quickly. “Yes.”

Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.”

You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance.

“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”

+++

“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.”

“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.”

He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone.

“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...”

You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?”

It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor.

“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Stay here.”

+++

You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone.

Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot.

Will.

+++

You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers.

The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence.

JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”

You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”

+++

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt.

Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.

He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive.

Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away.

His ear…

“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once.

He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”

“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again.

He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you.

“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”

With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”

You roll your eyes.

“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you.

With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still.

The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you.

+++

Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders.

“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?”

“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.”

He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.”

+++

You pull your phone from your pocket.

She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jess.”

“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”

With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.”

“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?”

She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.”

“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle.

“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?”

“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”

“ - Of course.”

+++

You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much.

Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.”

“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.”

Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.”

Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad?

It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind.

Evil twin, eviler twin.

You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances.

Yeah, that one was pretty bad.

“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.”

Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.”

Derek’s brow pinches. “What?”

“All of the details are a part of their story.”

She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you.

Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script.

Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.”

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous.

Now who sounds like Spencer?

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”

Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.”

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.”

Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy.

She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.”

Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little.

In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion.

“Where were the most casualties?”

“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.”

Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”

Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave.

Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.”

+++

Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life.

You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.

+++

The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.”

“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through.

“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”

There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.”

He’d like to think he’s made of steel.

Sometimes he is.

“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?”

“They're 3 minutes away.”

“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.

He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.”

Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist.

“Promise?”

His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.”

You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go.

+++

You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air.

Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock.

Could take an eye out, with that thing.

You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron.

Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him.

You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet.

Today is not that day.

Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?”

He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”

+++

Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing.

With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you.

+++

You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember.

What were we planning to do today?

A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.

Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck.

They were house-hunting this morning.

Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.”

They were at a convention this morning.

Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.

She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?”

You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.”

“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little.

Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they’ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home.

“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree.

There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs.

“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips.

You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around.

Don’t push it.

“I just thought you'd like to know that.”

The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list.

That’s a problem for another time.

You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things.

The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages.

The second - you’ll never have to think about her again.

The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you.

She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him.

“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.”

Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.”

“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.”

Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display.

“Hear that? We’re in.”

+++

When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket.

You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute.

Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.”

You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.

“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.”

“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?”

With a huff - “No.”

He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.”

You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep.

His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat.

Sleep takes him rapidly after that.

+++

As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”

“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet.

“Mhmm.”

“Only if it’s you.”

There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”

You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”

Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction.

Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.

You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything.

+++

Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening.

As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other.

You can just… be.

+++

Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks.

When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!”

Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.

Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh?

Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile.

When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?”

“God only knows.”

Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds.

“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.”

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way.

You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous.

He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…

He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over.

You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?”

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.”

There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear.

She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!”

She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief.

Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once.

+++

As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard.

You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation.

Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.

Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.”

He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?”

“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles.

It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you.

You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.

“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”

He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”

+++

“I bet they’re into like…tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone.

Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive.

“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.”

He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation.

“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”

+++

“What do you think they’ve got so far?”

He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.”

“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?”

He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.”

That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.”

“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family.

“Hey.”

You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“What’s my tell?”

The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.”

He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?”

“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.”

“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor.

“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.”

You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.”

“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -”

“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.”

You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?”

“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.”

It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it?”

You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?”

He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face.

You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.”

He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself.

“I said, you wish.”

You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.”

+++

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#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 3 years

Text

Game Master Akuma AU by crisisdparity

Xavier Duchamp was rather proud of himself. What he had before him was an absolute masterpiece of a campaign if he did say so himself. The product of over six months of study, research, and rebalancing efforts followed by two weeks of discussion with his five players to hash out schedules, meeting times, characters, backstories, potential character arcs, and getting them set up with a messaging app that was really good for sending discrete messages between the GM and the players. Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he’d greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively. Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item’s stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia. Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug. Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt’s history with characters dying) and he’d even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt’s usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with. Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history. He’d put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He’d carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign. In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he’d made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one. Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn’t need it anymore. —– It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app. Matt/Chat - Chat’s going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily. Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I’d advise, but it’s your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now. Matt/Chat - <photo> 17 Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone’s passive Perception easily. You’ll sneak off handily without anyone noticing. —– “Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple.” “Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?” Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt. “19.” “Okay, difficult, but not undoable… Crap.” “What’d you get?” “Nat 1…” “Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!” “Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!” “Because it’s payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish

campaigns!” “Oh, come on! You’re not the only person whose had a character die at this table! <GM> runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they’re always fair!” “What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?” “Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp.” “14!” “Not much better, dude.” “Guys, it’s fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-” “Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece.” “The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound.” “So does Carapace.” “Vesperia too.” “-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you’re all using the Dash action?, you’ve got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they’re all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this.” “Rena screams ‘What the HELL, Chat?! We’re supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn’t you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!’” “Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!” There was dead silence at the table. “Matt… What… just… WHAT?!” “Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?!” “What the hell is your problem, Matt?!” “My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I’ve spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!” “Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!” “I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY’RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!” “THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!” “NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN’T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I’M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!” “MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!” “Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time…” “It’s going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least.” Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour. He’d given so much to making sure this would work. He’d apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He’d agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he’d pull something like this. He’d nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else’s. They’d somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They’d meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening. It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he’d slaved over for months was kaput. He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it. “Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things.” This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he’d ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel. “Not

enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts.” He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he’d spent so much time on to life… What creator could ever turn down an offer like that? “I, the Game Master, accept… Hawkmoth.” “Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders.” “No.” Hawkmoth was silent for a moment. “I beg your pardon?” “I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself.” “If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you.” “No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me.” And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence. —– Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn’t remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn’t usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo. Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her. She looked up. And up. To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her. “How’s the weather down there?” Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique. “I WILL END YOU!” the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up. Characters: Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew) Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast) —– Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope. She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn’t for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she’d have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings. Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she’d have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her. “You know, people are staring…” she said as she craned her head to look at her companions. “Let them,” the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. “They’re just jealous because their boyfriends can’t carry them everywhere.” Characters: Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout) Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour) Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) —– Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin. She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she? And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor? Characters: Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party) Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew) —– Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she’d freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she’d come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable. It might help more if she could figure out where she was. Or find another person. Characters: Polymouse - Kobold

(rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned) —– Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance. “Are you quite done?” “Almost!” Pigella’s cheerful voice answered. “Your fur is so comfy!” Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels. “I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen’ I will stick you in a bottle.” “Aw, I love you too! Hey, what’s that?” “I think it’s my character sheet?” Characters: Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory) Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned) —– “According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules,” Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. “I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master.” “Aweshum,” King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk’s robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him. “Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water.” “Gotta keep up appearanshes!” King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness. Characters: Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned) King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master) —– Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he’d never felt before. “Hmm… perhaps I can work with this…” “Speak for yourself…” Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face. Characters: Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others. Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters —– “Oh, come on!” A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. “Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can’t I join them?” “Because you’re too OP. You’d completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure.” “But sitting around is no fun at all!” “If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger.” “That’s it?! I’m on 'mysterious hooded figure’ duty? Boo! Why can’t I fight with them?!” “Because you’re too OP. But if you insist, I’ll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions.” “YES!” “Five.” “I’m sorry?” “I’ll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information.” “That’s it?” “Yes. Choose your interventions wisely.” “So… if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle…?” “Then I would allow you to join them of course.” “Score!” Characters: Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5) Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign —– Addendum When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it’s basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back. All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt’s place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he

has a similar playstyle to Matt, he’s savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians. They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

—-

oh wow- that’s- wow. good job dude, seems like you worked on this a lot. Next time You should post this on your own account though, as this isn’t getting tagged or anything. Thank you though, you did a good job with this.

#submission

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lunnanunna · 4 years

Text

Balancing Act

BTS Extra Member AU

Summary: Lexi comes late to practice due to a late filming and ability to handle both is questioned.

Warnings: none

Taglist: @kimonmars @mythicalamphitrite @hyunmijung @atinygracie @xiaojunssmile

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open for each OC! Please let me know what you think.

Lexi sped walked down the hall and to the practice room. She had been held up an extra hour and a half at the filming spot and was now very late for practice. (Hopefully the boys will be understanding.)

She made it to the door and readjusted the strap to her Balenciaga gym back (A gift from Jungkook for her birthday) then opened the door. Once she stepped in, she wished that she hadn’t at all.

The smell of sweat was everywhere. The mirrors were steamed up. All of the boys were splayed around the room in various states of consciousness. Lexi suddenly felt like she had been slacking off. All of the aches and pains, the exhaustion from the 10 hour shoot, plus their comeback prep, seemed miniscule compared to the drained and vacant looks on her members’ faces.

“Ah, she’s here.” Lexi turned to the voice, finding a man that she was unfamiliar with. Judging from his crouched position by the stereo and opened tablet in his hand, Lexi figured he was the famous choreographer that would be working with them for this comeback, Park Hyunwoo.

“I’m sorry,” Lexi said, sheepishly, taking a small bow.

“Hey, Lex,” Taehyung greeted as he walked over to her. He draped an arm around her shoulder and Lexi scrunched her nose at the gross feeling of sweat. (She hated sweat.)

“Hi, Oppa.” She still smiled, leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek in greeting.

“How was the filming? Was there a lot of difficulties?” Namjoon asked from his place on the couch. He was slouched back, legs open, hands neatly folded on his stomach.

“A lot of lines were forgotten, and then it rained, so we had to push back a scene until it stopped. Then there were many many technical difficulties. I came as soon as we finished. I literally propelled myself into Oppa’s car,” Lexi said, giggling at the last part. Just the image of Sejin’s eyes bugging out as Lexi launched herself in and shouted at him to drive, brought a smile to her face.

“You probably scared the shit out of Hyung,” Jungkook chuckled as he walked up to her. Taehyung detached himself from her, as Jungkook came to hug her from behind, nuzzling her neck. He must have been really tired to openly snuggle like that.

“Well, that’s cute and all, but you’ve missed 2 hours of practice. You are aware of how far behind you’ll be now, right?” Hyunwoo asked. Lexi could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” she bowed again, cheeks heating up.

“Hyung, it wasn’t her fault,” Seokjin stated, “She can’t control how filmings go.” Seokjin was right. Lexi had finished all of her parts with ease, but she still had to stay because the other actors in her scenes were struggling, leading to Lexi having to redo her part over and over again.

“I really am sorry. I promise to work twice as hard to catch up. Kookie even sent me the video of the choreo and I’ve been practicing between scenes,” Lexi said, nodding her head hastily.

Jungkook removed himself from her back at the frenzied motions. He stood by her side and grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze to steady her. He could sense her need to prove herself at all cost, and knew that she’d get worked up.

Lexi squeezed back, grateful that her best friend could read her so well. “I promise, that even though I wasn’t working as hard as the guys here, that that doesn’t mean I’m not working hard at all,” she stated, a bit more calmly now.

“Lexi, no one’s saying that you aren’t working hard,” Hoseok said, offering her a warm smile.

Hyunwoo looked at Lexi, and she felt like he was looking into her soul, as if to judge whether or not she was worthy of a place in the group. His eyes locked with hers and then he let out a huff of air. “I understand.”

“What?” Lexi asked, confused about what exactly he understood.

Hyunwoo folded his arms over his chest. “I understand that you being late today wasn’t your fault, but you need to remember that the group takes first priority. Your main focus should be here. I understand that you’re working hard on this drama, but you also have a comeback coming up,” he stated, tone even. Lexi didn’t sense anything off from it. He seemed to generally be worried for her and the group.

“Yes, I’m aware. But the boys and the company have always supported me in acting. I’ve missed some group events due to scheduling, but BTS is my number one. It has always been and always will be. I’d die, before I let the group down,” Lexi stated, seriously. BTS was her life, acting was just something she did on the side.

“Lex, that’s a bit extreme,” Yoongi stated, not liking her choice in words.

She turned to him and smiled. “But it’s true, Oppa. The group is too important for me to let down,” Lexi said.

“We’re all onboard with her acting career as long as she can handle both responsibilities. But she also has us helping,” Namjoon stated, nodding his head.

“Yeah, and you heard her. She practices by herself whenever she gets the chance, even though she must be tired from filming,” Jimin added. Lexi turned to him and smiled.

“I’ll work hard to not fall behind,” Lexi promised, giving a nod.

Hyunwoo looked at her then at the boys, chewing his lip. “Alright,” he shrugged, “As long as you know your limits and weaknesses. If you’ve always worked hard I don’t see why you'd stop now.” He smiled at Lexi and she smiled back even wider.

“Hyung, it’s been a long day and you’ve helped us a lot. We can take it from here and help Lexi out,” Hoseok said.

Hyunwoo contemplated the idea a bit, then nodded. “Alright. You boys were looking good today, and I trust you to teach her well,” he said then he began to gather his things.

“Thanks, Hyung,” Namjoon said, and the others followed in thanking him as Hyunwoo left the room.

“I thought I was going to get yelled at,” Lexi said, sighing and closing her eyes.

Jungkook chuckled next to her. “You were that nervous?”

She opened her eyes and gave him a blank look. “Very.”

“Have you eaten dinner?” Seokjin asked.

Lexi shook her head. “I mean I had a snack, but I didn’t have time to actually grab a meal. It’s kind of late though.” And by late she meant half past midnight, way past dinnertime.

“Well, I think you should eat a proper meal before we start practicing,” Seokijin said, whipping out his phone to order some food for them.

“We could all eat some, then work. I’m kinda hungry,” Taehyung said as he reached for Lexi’s bag and placed it by theirs.

“I like that plan,” Namjoon said as he sat on the floor, the others joining him.

“How far are you in the choreography?” Hoseok asked Lexi as she sat next to him.

“About half way, but I still need to polish the first half,” she answered, pulling out her phone to bring up the video and show him how far she had reached.

“Wah, that’s our Lexi! Such a hard worker,” Hoseok beamed, patting her head. Lexi almost purred at the affection. Filming her drama meant not seeing the boys as much. She really missed them.

“Okay, well the food is on it’s way. We’ll eat then practice,” Seokjin announced.

“What should we do until then?” Jimin asked.

“Lexi could tell us a little bit about next week’s episode,” Taehyung suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

Lexi mimed zipping her lips and shook her head. “You’ll find out along with everyone else,” she said playfully glaring at him.

“Lexi’s good at keeping secrets like this. She’d never tell, so stop asking,” Yoongi said, leaning back on his hands.

Lexi’s Masterlist

#bts #bts au #bts 8th member #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop oneshots #female kpop additions #rm #jin #suga #jhope #jimin #v #jungkook

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lokislittlesigyn · 3 years

Text

A Day’s Work - Pt.1

Hi everyone!! This is an older fic I started a while ago and was pretty happy with. It seemed a good opportunity to get started with posting things. Basically, this is a random au (may simply classify silly/nonsense fics into a separate au category of their own) based around Marvel, focusing on Loki and my own interpretation/characterization of his wife Sigyn. hence... you know, my blog name and pfp and. yeah, you get the picture.

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: The Collector being creepy (as usual), some capture but don’t fret! It’s short-lived.

Summary: The Guardians of The Galaxy have been, well, guarding the galaxy on their own time. But when a handsome reward for the safe return of an Asgardian princess is released, they may get more adventure than they bargained for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Peter, you're an idiot." Gamora took a seat in the Milano’s cockpit, releasing a loud sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, I know..." Peter turned the ship, and within seconds the were on their way to Xandar. "It's not my fault that guy had literally the ugliest mug in the galaxy."

"He was not carrying a mug," Drax piped up from behind them, furrowing his brow at Peter.

"Face, then! Ugliest face."

"I disagree." Drax settled back into his seat. "You have the ugliest face."

"I am Groot."

Peter glared over his shoulder. "If you don't cut it out, I swear I will turn this spaceship around." Soon, the bunch of misfits reached Xandar. Landed, and took the opportunity to roam the city - partly in search for unclaimed bounties.

"Okay, since we haven't had the best luck under Quill's leadership lately, I’m electing myself as new leader of the group," Rocket smirked, holding a tiny baby Groot on his shoulder.

"Hey!" Peter huffed, "That Sakaarian was just one guy. One dude out of the whole universe. Every one of us has had a - a slight disagreement, over a keg of beer."

"I am Groot."

"Okay, except you. But you don't count."

"I am Groot!"

"All right fine, you count!"

Gamora rolled her eyes, walking over to a large, white wall, containing a screen that was shifting between advertisements. "Hey, come look at this." She put her hand up, stilling the screen.

Peter furrowed his brow, his hands on his hips. "Reward for the safe capture and return of an.. Asgardian? Asgardian princess?"

Rocket whistled. "Gorgeous."

"Yeah, I guess she's pretty-"

"I was talkin' about the money."

Peter's eyes settled on the bounty price, then widened. He grinned. "How do you guys feel about a rescue mission?" ~~~~ Sigyn awoke with a pounding headache. She blinked. Looked down at her bound hands. Great...

It was dark, but in the further reaches of the shadows she could make out the edges of rusty metal walls. In front of her stood an equally-rusted cell door. Past it, another cell stood, identical if not for the fact it was empty. She stood, steadying herself against the wall. Voices came from down the hall.

"...won't remember anything. I gave her a double dose."

"Dunno, Asgardians are tough..."

"Not this one."

Two men stepped in front of her cell. Each wore patchy, well-worn clothes. One looked tanned and scruffy, the other had blue skin marred with scars.

"Oh look, she's awake," The blue one chuckled.

Sigyn stepped back, eyeing both of them. "Where am I?"

"That's not much'a your business, is it?" The man glared at her.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Knowhere." He smirked.

She blinked. "What... You must be taking me somewhere."

He nodded. "Knowhere. Hang tight, princess." Both men walked off, leaving her alone. She huffed, eyeing the door... Then noticed the clothing she had on. Interwoven leather and cloth, bits of metal, armored bracers on her forearms... Nothing like what those men wore.

What was going on?

She sat back down, defeated. Her headache became overwhelming, throbbing... She placed her head in her hands. ~~~~ Meanwhile, onboard the Milano, Rocket stepped over to a table in the center of the common area. "Now, behold." Rocket set a metal object that looked haphazardly thrown-together on the table. "A genuine Asgardian tracking device. Call it an A-T-D."

"You found a way to track Asgardians?" Peter raised his brows, arms crossed.

"Well yeah, why'd you think I called it an Asgardian tracking device?"

"I am Groot."

"Exactly! The nerve of some people!"

Peter rolled his eyes. Gamora spoke up. "How does it track them?"

"Now that is a good question." Rocket pressed a button on the side of the device. It started beeping slowly. "I won't reveal all my secrets, but it basically traces Asgardian DNA."

"Where did you get Asgardian DNA?"

Rocket grinned. "I have my ways."

"So we'll follow your tracker until we find the princess, grab her, maybe shoot some guys, and take her back to Asgard safe and sound?" Peter shifted his weight.

"That's the plan."

"..I love it. Good work, Rocket."

"Well, I am the resident genius." ~~~~ Soon, the Guardians reached Knowhere to the tune of Drax’s snoring, the tracker’s continuous beeping, and Suspicious Minds playing softly.

The tracking device released another loud, long bloop before returning to its rhythmic beeping - unfortunately, out of sync with the music.

"That toaster of yours better work," Peter huffed.

"I told you, Quill, it's already working. It's brought us this far, hasn't it?"

"We'll see. Asgardians are usually easy to spot anyway," Gamora stood, walking to the front of the cockpit. "They're loud and overbearing. Proud."

"Yeah but they've got a full medieval look, right? Armor and everything?"

"Yes, usually."

"So we're looking for a ren faire princess. Got it."

Rocket and Gamora exchanged a confused look. She shrugged.

The Milano landed, and the Guardians - after waking up Drax - began their search. Peter lead the way.

"All right, we should stick together. Remember what happened last time we came here."

"You ruined our chance at selling the Orb?" Rocket smirked.

"Okay, first of all, that wasn't entirely my fault." Peter huffed, glancing at Gamora. "Where should we start..?"

"I think we should follow the tracker," Gamora glanced around, "And keep an eye out for anything sapphire. Asgardians like wearing distinct colors - from her picture, it looks like sapphire is hers."

"Right."

"Hey, I got something!" Rocket held up the tracker, which had begun beeping faster. "This way!" He scampered off, the team in tow.

They reached the same bar they'd visited before,when waiting to meet the Collector.

"Geez, this thing is going crazy..."

"Rocket." Gamora said.

"I mean it's really losing its mind. Maybe I should've-"

"Rocket!" Gamora pointed to the betting table.

There, on the other side, the princess was being lead to the Collector's back room.

"...Oh."

~~~~

The two men from before lead Sigyn through a strange, crowded room, past droves of cheering spectators. What was going on? She tried bumping into people to get their attention, tried catching someone’s eye, but the blaster pressed to her back kept her lips sealed.

They reached a back room. Walked through a maze-like trail of glass cages, lead by a pink woman whose smile looked far too forced.

Sigyn looked inside the glass cages, gasping when one of the beings inside moved. What is this place? she thought, swallowing hard when they stopped walking. Sigyn stood between the rugged aliens who lead her, staring forward at the strange man before her. He lowered a contraption that looked much like a mix between binoculars and glasses, setting them and the precious stone he was examining on the table before him.

"May I present, Taneleer Tivan, The Collector." The pink woman nodded to him, then disappeared behind more glass cages.

"As promised," The blue man smirked, "An Asgardian. The princess herself. Safe and sound. Not a scratch on her."

"Oh," the Collector leaned over the table, studying Sigyn much like he had the stone. She tensed. Felt a chill go down her spine. "How you managed a feat such as this, I cannot grasp.." He walked around the table, reaching out to Sigyn. When she didn't move, the men forced her hands toward him. He took one, kissing it, gaze never leaving her face. "It is an honor, fair princess."

Sigyn was frozen in fear. She clenched her jaw, pulling away from him as soon as he'd let her. "I-I.. What do you want with me?"

The Collector only chuckled. "She looks reasonably healthy.." He grabbed her jaw, turning her face back and forth. She gritted her teeth, staring at him.

"About that..” The blue man smirked. “We want two million additional units. Seeing as she's a healthy, young princess, seems fair.."

"Yes.. Yes, that would be fair. Stellina," He called. The pink woman returned. "Transfer the units to these gentlemen."

"Wait- I'm not for sale!" Sigyn struggled against her captors. "I am not a princess! I don't know who you think I am, but-"

"Quiet," the blue man snarled. "We hit her with a big dose of Amnesiac Gas."

The Collector glanced at her with an amused expression. "How long until it wears off?"

The man shrugged.

"Well, never mind, then..." He sent Stellina to open one of the glass cages. "I trust the Asgardians have no idea you are here?"

"Not a clue," The other one snickered, "We made out in the dead of night. Didn't even know it was us takin' her."

The men started moving toward the cage. Sigyn's heart leapt from her chest.

"Wait- Wait, no, no no no, please don't! Please!" She kicked, managing to rip her arm away from one of the men, only to be firmly grabbed by the Collector himself, who kept one hand around her wrist, the other on her throat. "Now, little beauty, don't struggle so. I do not intend to hurt you." He brushed a finger across her cheek - gentle. Too gentle. Tears welled up in her eyes. "You will be a prize addition to my collection." In a swift movement, he pushed her into the cage, and before she could jump out, Stellina closed the door. It locked with a snap.

Sigyn slammed against the glass, tears flowing out steadily. "No! Let me out! Please, I beg you, I'll do ANYTHING!" She hit the glass with her fists.

"Pleasure doing business with you as always, gentlemen." The Collector shooed the two men off, then turned to Stellina. "Do something about that noise. But do not hurt her, or you will take her place."

Stellina bowed her head, then turned to Sigyn, who was still pounding on the glass.

#lokixsigyn #loki fanfic #logyn #aaaaaaa?#guardiansofthegalaxy #gotg fanfiction #assortedau

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crisisdparity · 3 years

Text

Game Master Akuma AU

(Note: Originally submitted to @justanotherpersonsuniverse, on their advice I will be using my own tumblr for anything in the future related to this AU.)

Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he'd greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively.

Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item's stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia.

Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug.

Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt's history with characters dying) and he'd even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt's usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with.

Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history.

He'd put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He'd carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign.

In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he'd made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one.

Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn't need it anymore.

-----

It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app.

Matt/Chat - Chat's going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily.

Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I'd advise, but it's your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now.

Matt/Chat - <photo> 17

Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone's passive Perception easily. You'll sneak off handily without anyone noticing.

-----

"Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple."

"Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?"

Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt.

"19."

"Okay, difficult, but not undoable... Crap."

"What'd you get?"

"Nat 1..."

"Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!"

"Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!"

"Because it's payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish campaigns!"

"Oh, come on! You're not the only person whose had a character die at this table! Xavier runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they're always fair!"

"What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?"

"Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp."

"14!"

"Not much better, dude."

"Guys, it's fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-"

"Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece."

"The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound."

"So does Carapace."

"Vesperia too."

"-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you're all using the Dash action?, you've got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they're all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this."

"Rena screams 'What the HELL, Chat?! We're supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn't you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!'"

"Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!"

There was dead silence at the table.

"Matt... What... just... WHAT?!"

"Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe's on the other foot, huh?!"

"What the hell is your problem, Matt?!"

"My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I've spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!"

"Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!"

"I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY'RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!"

"THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!"

"NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN'T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I'M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!"

"MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!"

"Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time..."

"It's going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least."

Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour.

He'd given so much to making sure this would work. He'd apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He'd agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he'd pull something like this.

He'd nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else's. They'd somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They'd meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening.

It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he'd slaved over for months was kaput.

He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it.

"Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things."

This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he'd ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel.

"Not enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts."

He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he'd spent so much time on to life... What creator could ever turn down an offer like that?

"I, the Game Master, accept... Hawkmoth."

"Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders."

"No."

Hawkmoth was silent for a moment.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself."

"If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you."

"No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me."

And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence.

-----

Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn't remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn't usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo.

Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her.

She looked up.

And up.

To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her.

"How's the weather down there?" Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique.

"I WILL END YOU!" the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up.

Characters:

Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew)

Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast)

-----

Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope.

She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn't for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she'd have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings.

Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she'd have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her.

"You know, people are staring..." she said as she craned her head to look at her companions.

"Let them," the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. "They're just jealous because their boyfriends can't carry them everywhere."

Characters:

Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout)

Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour)

Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight)

-----

Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin.

She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she?

And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor?

Characters:

Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party)

Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew)

-----

Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she'd freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she'd come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she'd gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable.

It might help more if she could figure out where she was.

Or find another person.

Characters:

Polymouse - Kobold (rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned)

-----

Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance.

"Are you quite done?"

"Almost!" Pigella's cheerful voice answered. "Your fur is so comfy!"

Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels.

"I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen' I will stick you in a bottle."

"Aw, I love you too! Hey, what's that?"

"I think it's my character sheet?"

Characters:

Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory)

Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned)

-----

"According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules," Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. "I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master."

"Aweshum," King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk's robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him.

"Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water."

"Gotta keep up appearanshes!" King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness.

Characters:

Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned)

King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master)

-----

Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he'd never felt before.

"Hmm... perhaps I can work with this..."

"Speak for yourself..." Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face.

Characters:

Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others.

Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters

-----

"Oh, come on!" A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. "Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can't I join them?"

"Because you're too OP. You'd completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure."

"But sitting around is no fun at all!"

"If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger."

"That's it?! I'm on 'mysterious hooded figure' duty? Boo! Why can't I fight with them?!"

"Because you're too OP. But if you insist, I'll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions."

"YES!"

"Five."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information."

"That's it?"

"Yes. Choose your interventions wisely."

"So... if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle...?"

"Then I would allow you to join them of course."

"Score!"

Characters:

Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5)

Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign

-----

Addendum

When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it's basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back.

All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt's place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he has a similar playstyle to Matt, he's savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians.

They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

#game master akuma au #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #writings

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hydra-collector · 4 years

Text

love & death & kisses

AO3

Pairings: Anxceit, platonic Analogical

Characters: Virgil Sanders, Janus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Roman Sanders (mentioned), Remus Sanders (mentioned)

TW: suicide attempts, self-harm, cursing, panic attacks, v v v slightly implied sexual content, food

Words: 4,153

Summary: Virgil meets someone.

Note: Human AU, I’m bad at naming, bad at summaries, Janus is ooc, i swear this is one of my better fics

Rain seeped into Virgil’s clothes, making him even colder than he already was. He’d forgotten his umbrella at work, so he’d have to get it tomorrow. Funny how things work that way. You put things off to the side for a rainy day, but when you need them they’re not there.

A tall, slim man stood beside him. He would usually avoid other people at the train station as much as he could, but he didn’t care at this point. He was cold, tired, in a depressive episode, and frankly too out of it to care.

The other man didn’t have an umbrella either, but seemed much less bothered by it. He checked his phone occasionally, but only typed something once or twice, aside from a seemingly frustrating venture on Google Maps from what Virgil could see. He was more on edge by whatever he was seeing on his phone than the weather.

“Excuse me, do you know where the nearest hotel is?”

The first thing he noticed was that the man was absolutely beautiful.

The second was his scar.

A wide scar, seemingly a burn mark, covered the entirety of the left side of his face. It traveled down his neck and past his shirt where Virgil couldn’t see it. His left hand had it as well, a pair of gloves stuffed in his pocket. His eyes were also heterochromatic, one much paler than the dark brown of the other.

Virgil didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially after the earlier events of the day, but he tried his best. He subtly hugged his side to provide pressure comfort.

“I think there’s one a couple blocks from Edwards Station. I don’t remember if it’s south or north. I can check.”

Virgil pulled out his own phone and found that it was half a mile north. Logan had sent him a text asking him why he was so late. He didn’t want to explain that he had to spend an hour on a bench in the pouring rain, trying to calm down from a panic attack. The stranger confirmed and checked his phone again, sighing when he didn’t find what he wanted.

Virgil could see his screen slightly. He’d been talking to a contact named April, both of them using a lot of cursewords angrily at each other. It looked like a pretty bad breakup. He figured he’d been kicked out.

The train arrived a few minutes after that. Virgil was never going to be comfortable with the thought of a big, heavy object rocketing in his general direction, but he wasn’t attempting suicide or anything at the moment. He learned to deal with it.

“Sorry, Logan, I’m here now.”

Logan had been Virgil’s roommate for almost three years now. He’d been his best friend even longer. He was the one there for him when he needed it most.

“What happened?”

Logan was making dinner for the two of them, which Virgil was disappointed to find out. The rule was they could make each other meals, but whoever made it got to choose what it was, and Virgil has never known Logan to make anything junkier than chili. Virgil had got him to eat macaroni and cheese a few times, so he counted that as a win.

“I… had a pretty bad panic attack.”

“Is there anything I can do to help now?”

“I think I’ll be okay. You don’t give bad hugs, though.”

Logan smiled slightly and hugged his friend firmly. He’d looked up the best ways to comfort people physically and figured out what was best for Virgil.

“Thanks, L. What’s for dinner?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to make it yourself.”

“Hey, you have plenty! You’re using two pans!”

“You hate fish, Virgil.”

“That’s fish? Ew.”

“What did you think it was?”

Virgil shrugged.

“Go get dry clothes.”

Virgil changed into another, softer hoodie and sweatpants. He figured he’d get something to eat later. He could go a couple hours scrolling on Tumblr or something before he’d be really hungry.

When he turned his phone on, it was still open to the hotel directions.

I hope that guy’s alright.

He’d seen him a few times before, he realized. The unmistakable bleached hair against the man’s dark clothing he recognized had never been put to a face, but he’d been at the train station a few times before. Virgil vaguely wondered if he got off work at the same time as he did and it was a coincidence seeing him today since his whole thing with April, or whoever.

You don’t know what happened, shut up.

Virgil squeezed his arm with his fingernails, hoping to make his self-hate go away.

Today was exhausting.

He didn’t want to go to work the next day.

He’d had another bad day. His boss complained about the quality of his work again. It seemed he was fucking everything up lately. He’d gotten Roman angry at him for an insult accidentally personal, and Logan angry at him because he’d started cutting again. Who could blame him, though? It was just so much easier to cope by hurting than actually trying to help himself. At least he was still showering.

At least it wasn’t raining.

It felt like it, though. There was weight on his shoulders and chest, and he needed to cry. He wished he could afford a therapist. Then again, did he even deserve help?

Stop.

His inner voice was right. He should stop being so self-deprecating, it was annoying, he’d always been an attention seek-

Stop.

Virgil exhaled, rubbing his forehead and sitting down on the bench instead of standing for the train.

“Didn’t get to thank you. For the directions.”

“Hm?”

It was the man again. This was the first time he’d seen him in the few days since then.

“I needed a place to stay, thanks for telling me where it was. I tried looking it up, then texting my girlfriend to ask her if… I ran out of data, I wouldn’t have been able to get there if you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh. You’re welcome. Glad you found the hotel.”

He half-wished he didn’t have to talk to anyone right now, but something drew him towards this man.

And then he initiated a conversation. For once in his life.

“You just get off work?”

“Yeah. I work at the zoo. Reptile house.”

“Wow. I just have a boring tech job. I’m assuming you like reptiles, which one’s your favorite?”

“It’s basic, but I’ve always liked snakes. I have three.”

“I could never handle snakes. I know they probably won’t hurt me, but I’m anxious about everything.”

Am I oversharing? Should I be talking about my anxiety? Is that weird?

“I have a deathly fear of spiders, so that’s valid.”

Virgil would have said something else, but the train came, and it was difficult to talk onboard. It was weird how easy it was to talk to this person, even though he’d just met him.

They’d got to talking about snakes.

Big breeds, small breeds, the most dangerous, the least dangerous kinds of snakes. Virgil swore he was being converted to like reptiles by this man. He talked about them with so much excitement, more than he showed any other time. Mostly he was calm and collected, a bit like Logan.

“I never got your name.”

“Oh, it’s Janus.”

Like, Janice?

“As in the Roman god, not like suburban mom.”

“Ah. Virgil.”

Neither of them smiled often, so whenever someone who knew them saw the smile, it always made them a bit happier as well. It was already happening with them, even a week or two into knowing each other.

“What kind of snakes do you have?”

“I’ve got a green tree python, a corn snake, and a ball python. Diana, Mercury, Liber.”

“All Roman names, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a nerd.”

“It’s fitting.”

It was so easy to talk to him. More so than any other stranger. Usually he’d get anxious and all his energy would be expended (he usually had a mental breakdown if it was a lot of people). Something about him, the way he talks, moves, looks at Virgil. He’s like a reptile.

Don’t get a crush on him. He’s probably straight.

Maybe he isn’t, though. He could be bi or pan or something.

The train interrupted their conversation, but Virgil kept glancing over at Janus throughout. He was looking down at his phone, he must’ve gotten more service. Virgil got off after him, but it gave him time to consider Janus before he got home.

“Logan, I’m getting a crush on a straight guy and I just found out his name today.”

“You’re odd, Virgil.”

“He’s hot. And he likes snakes.”

“You hate snakes. Wouldn’t someone with an interest in spiders be more akin to you?”

“...He’s scared of spiders.”

“Virgil…”

And he did get a crush on Janus.

They talked every day they saw each other, finally remembering they could exchange numbers. They spent months getting to know each other with pretty limited interactions, as neither of them texted or called much anyway. It wasn’t exactly a good thing, though, because he either spent his time at work thinking about Janus, panicking because his boss was mad at him because he wasn’t doing his work (because he was thinking about Janus), or completely depressed because he was angry at her for giving him a panic attack. And the cycle would continue.

It turned out April was his girlfriend, and they’d been in an unhappy relationship for a year or so. He was glad she’d broke it off, but was left without a house for a while. He’d managed to share an apartment with his friend Remus and that was going okay. Virgil didn’t tell him about his depression, but was open enough about his anxiety. Luckily for Virgil, he mentioned an ex-boyfriend.

He was not straight. Maybe he had a chance.

Are you kidding? He’s not gonna want to date you, worthless bitch. You can’t make him deal with your mental health, and he probably hates you anyway.

Their interactions were mostly limited to the train station, but that only meant Virgil appreciated them even more.

Still, he wished he could be happy.

The only times he was were, well, when he was talking to Janus and when Logan gave him hugs. Talking to Logan was enjoyable, but he kept reminding himself about everything going on, everything wrong with himself, how he kept fucking up, and cutting and wanting to kill himself. With Janus, he forgot. It was so easy to smile and laugh at sarcastic jokes and the cute things he did, like blush when he laughed and stick out his tongue unintentionally.

Time flew by when they were together. There wasn’t enough time before the train came to talk nearly as long as Virgil would have liked. Still, every interaction was worth it. His love for Janus grew the more he talked about what he does, and he actually seemed interested in Virgil’s job, even though he swore it must be the most boring on the planet.

“I think you’ve conquered my fear of snakes, Janus.”

“What’s this? I’ve shown my little ball of anxiety the ways of the snake with my own love for him and reptiles.”

My little ball of anxiety? And did he just say he loved me?

Was he thinking about this too much?

One corner of his mouth was raised in a smile and Virgil couldn’t help but blush, however much he wanted to ignore it. Janus chuckled slightly and picked up the conversation again, mentioning how Diana had gotten out and managed to get herself on the couch. Virgil proceeded as well, debating whether it meant anything or not.

Virgil felt sick.

He felt all things horrible. Depressed, anxious, angry, hopeless, and worthless.

Over and over it repeated.

“I’m afraid someone as unstable as you isn’t fit to work here.”

Unstable.

Unhealthy.

Worthless.

Useless.

What was he going to do? He wouldn’t have money to keep living with Logan, he had to go through the stress of finding another job, people would judge him, he wouldn’t even be able to eat.

There was nothing he could do.

He trembled as he made his way to the train station. He was going to have a panic attack. Hell, maybe he was already having a panic attack. He wanted to cry but he wouldn’t cry. He had to go home and explain to Logan and he’d just have to live until-

No you don’t.

Of course he didn’t.

He was going to the train station, goddamnit.

He rubbed his hands on his face, static buzzing in his ears as tears almost came. This was going to be okay. It was all going to be okay. Finally.

He went up a different set of stairs, avoiding Janus. As he walked, the static slowly faded and was replaced with silence. Chosen silence, that is. He could hear the cars and the wind and the rain that had just begun to fall.

Fitting.

The train was early today, thank God. Its rumbling was familiar from the distance.

He took his last few steps to the edge of the platform, ignoring the tiny bit of anxiety that came with jumping down. He vaguely heard his name called over and over by the deep voice he knew well by now. He ignored it as well, starting with a slow walk, letting the raindrops soak into his hoodie. The walk sped up, and the rain got heavier, blurring out the train’s lights in a pretty way. He forced the muffled sound of his name out again, but it was getting louder.

There’s nothing you can do.

The walk got faster and turned into a run. He needed to catch the train before it slowed down.

Funny. Catching the train.

His ears pounded with the silence. So many things to distract him, things he loved. The awful sound of rain, knowing you’re going to get wet, but reveling in it anyway. The patter of feet on ground, now wood and gravel. And his voice, his beautiful voice.

The screech from the train stopped all other sounds, even splitting the silence in the bubble he created. It was warm, he hoped it was blood, so warm, so wonderfully warm.

Janus had never hugged Virgil.

He’d assumed he wasn’t one for being touchy-feely. He was tall and handsome, like the stereotypical distant, sexy man. But he wasn’t distant. He was there when Virgil needed him, even if he didn’t always know it. He put a hand on his shoulder or took Virgil’s hands in his to calm him down. He wished he’d gotten to know what kind of embrace he would have. Was it soft? Was it firm like Logan’s? Was it too tight? Was it always awkward like some people’s?

More than that, he wanted to know how his kisses were.

He imagined them soft, then passionate. Like something Virgil had always needed, the sweet feeling of pure love. He imagined he was the type to give solemn forehead kisses when a moment was serious, and short nose ones when the moments were playful. He imagined he’d kiss wherever he could on someone’s face, on his cheeks and chin, nose, lips, neck. They’d all be perfect for the occasion. There was a difference between a peck on someone’s cheek and smushing his lips against someone’s face. A slow kiss to the jaw was different from a badly-aimed one. Every subtle difference in position would say something new.

“I love you.”

“Shut up.”

“I need you right now.”

“You need me.”

He wished he’d learned every message. He wished he’d kissed Janus before today. He wished he’d at least told him and got rejected like he knew he would. He wished he could have everything. A hug and a kiss saying ‘it’s going to be okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to you. It’s-’

“-going to be okay.”

The sound of the rain hit the stones sharply, akin to the feeling on his back. Voices shouting, his voice, and a new sound.

His heart.

Virgil let himself sink into the rhythm and the feeling of warmth that encompassed him. Something was soft through the damp fabric, moving slightly every now and then. It was the pressure of something, a body-

-Janus.

He opened his eyes to see the blurry outline of blond hair covering Janus’s face. He raised his arm slowly to push it away, just then noticing the arms wrapped tightly around him, using the most of their surface area.

Janus’s eyes were beautiful and sad, was he- crying? Virgil couldn’t tell if it was the rain or tears until he sobbed, hugging Virgil even tighter, burying his face in his shoulder and muttering words Virgil couldn’t hear.

Virgil realized he was crying too. Of course he was crying, he was… alive.

He was alive.

“I’m sorry, Virgil. Please, please know I’m here for you.”

Virgil said nothing, still mute from shock. So many things happened just then, and now he was being hugged. And it was perfect, despite the rain.

“I could’ve- should’ve died.”

“No, Virgil, you shouldn’t have. You couldn’t have, I’d never let you.”

Did he really care?

“I need to- I need to tell you something.”

This could go horribly wrong.

I don’t care anymore. I’ve made the most impulsive decision of my life today, might as well make another.

Virgil took his hand to push Janus’s chin up, thumb tracing the scar closer to his lips.

“Can I-”

“Can I kiss you, Jan?”

He let his head drop towards Virgil’s, lips so close now. He would have smiled his snake smile if he could have felt an ounce of a smile.

Virgil pressed his parted lips to Janus’s, hand resting on the back of his neck. He pulled his fingers through his wet hair, feeling its softness even now.

It was everything he had imagined.

At first it was soft and tender, but Janus deepened it, hand wriggling out from under Virgil to hold his face. The raindrops drowned out that moment from the outside world. Janus’s heart quickened, as did Virgil’s, but they both relaxed into it. The scar was rough against Virgil’s face sometimes, but it only made him want him more. All either of them could hear were the raindrops contrasting with their hearts.

Virgil wanted to kiss him longer, hold this forever. When they did break, Janus laid his burned cheek against Virgil’s.

“Do you need to go home?”

He thought of Logan and how upset he was when Virgil cut, how hard he tried and how bad he felt for him. And how bad Virgil felt for hurting him.

“Can we go to your place? It’s... closer.”

“Oh- I suppose we could. I doubt Remus will be there.”

They avoided the people trying to help Virgil, weaving through the few scattered onlookers, Janus’s arm resting around Virgil’s waist. Virgil was scared he would have a panic attack again and tried to focus on Janus.

He called a cab as he wasn’t about to take the train after that, and sat in the backseat with Virgil, not letting him go for a second. It was expensive and Virgil tried to get Janus to let him pay, but he didn’t have much of an argument. Janus half-carried Virgil up the stairs and into his apartment.

It was clean, which Virgil guessed was Janus’s doing given what he’d said about Remus, and fairly dark. It wasn’t the kind of dark that made you feel uneasy, but rather as in lighted only with soft ambient light. He didn’t get a good look at their living room before Janus pulled him into his bedroom. It was painted a pretty yellow and lit with a color changing lamp, which Janus turned to purple.

He sat Virgil down on the bed, who was still rather dazed from the day. Janus rummaged through his clothing drawers until he found a shirt smaller than the others and an old-looking pair of sweatpants.

“Here, you can change into this.”

Janus grabbed some clothes for himself and left the room for a moment, allowing him privacy. Virgil removed his soaked hoodie and Evanescence t-shirt, putting on the soft purple one Janus had found. It had short sleeves, but he didn’t have anything to lose at this point. He put on the sweatpants, soft and warm and opened the door for Janus. He was changed into a big hoodie that Virgil would kill to wear.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah, I- I think so. Sorry about the, the cuts.”

“It’s okay, Virgil. If you want me to get you something with long sleeves-”

“I think I’ll just end up stealing your hoodie at some point. Otherwise… it’s fine.”

“Okay.”

Virgil sat down on the bed again, craving the soft blankets. Janus took his spot beside him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders.

“Thanks, Jan. It- I’m, I’m alive because of you. I don’t know how I could repay that.”

“Tell me when this happens, and I’d die happy.”

Virgil smiled, leaning against Janus. He pushed himself against the wall, pulling Virgil along with him. He heaved the thick blanket around him and Virgil, but mostly Virgil. He snuggled into the weight and comfort, still sitting against Janus as if he were the only thing keeping him balanced.

“What happened today?”

“I got… fired. ‘Cause I’m too depressed to work. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“I can help you find a job, V. It doesn’t have to be the end.”

“Sometimes it just… feels that way. Like you’re never going to get out of this pit of loneliness and you’re sure everyone hates you, and you’re so scared something will go wrong all the time even though you don’t really care.”

“I don’t hate you. And I know you can end this the healthy way. Shall we start with some ice cream?”

“Ice cream’s not exactly healthy, Janus.”

“Ssshh.”

He left for a moment and returned with two tubs of chocolate ice cream and a spoon for each of them.

“No bowls? And two whole tubs?”

“Mhm. It’s better that way. And you could have both of them if you asked.”

“Nah, you deserve some ice cream too. I probably hurt you a lot by doing that.”

“Mm-mm, Virgil. You’re hurting, not me. Self-care rule number one: you’re better than everyone for a while, put your feelings first.”

“I’m not.”

“Pretend. Now, what would you like to do?”

Virgil considered the question for a moment. It might be nice to listen to music, or to distract himself with a game or movie, but he didn’t really want that.

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“I… want to kiss you.”

Janus turned pink for a moment, before smiling his smile with one corner of his mouth.

Before he could say anything that he wanted to, Virgil kissed that smile. He wondered what it would be like to do so many times, so he wasn’t going to miss his opportunity. He put his ice cream down to hold Janus’s face with cold fingers, savoring the feeling of the little half-smile turning surprised and then into a giddy smile that began to kiss back. Virgil grinned when it ended, looking back into Janus’s eyes.

“So you’re going to surprise kiss me now?”

“Yep-”

Janus, just as quickly as Virgil had, kissed him quick on the nose, eliciting a blush from Virgil this time.

“Unfair, Janus.”

“Nah.”

“I’m gonna pout and eat my ice cream now.”

“Is there anything else we can do while eating ice cream?”

“I suppose we could watch a movie.”

“Lion King?”

“...Lion King? I mean, yeah, sure, okay!”

He smiled as Janus put the movie on, his familiar excitement seeping through. Virgil managed to wrestle the soft hoodie from him, revealing that one, he had no shirt, and two, that Virgil would cuddle Janus’s burn marks and he appreciated that. As Virgil fell asleep next to him, he pressed his lips to his forehead, who was just awake enough to feel.

And one by one, the messages were unlocked to him. Once, after a dance, came the desperate, passionate kiss that told him “I need to kiss you.” One Disney marathon he came to feel the peppered kisses on his cheeks that said “You’re adorable.” After a weekend trip alone he got the long cheek kiss that said ‘I missed you.’ When he finally got a job, he was given the messy kiss, cheeks held tight that said “I’m so proud of you.” One tired night he blushed at the kisses on his jaw and neck that said “You’re hot and I’m bored.”

And again and again and again, the tender forehead kisses that said “I’m here for you. I love you.”

113 notes · View notes

justasparkwritings · 4 years

Text

Codename Cupid: Chapter 4

Previous: Daddy’s Favorite & The First Date

Pairing: Kim Seokjin X OFC

Genre: Light Angst, Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Light College AU

Rating: PG13

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing, Very minor mention of consensual sex

Summary: Kim Seokjin meets the deciders of his fate, and the demise of his relationship.

Codename: The First Heartbreak

Winter, Junior Year

Kim Seokjin and Lee Euna began their courtship on the pretense of getting to know each other more for the sake of their economics project. What Seokjin hadn’t expected, was to fall into bed with Euna, to hold her hand on campus, to discuss New Year’s celebrations and date nights at the ballet or symphony. Euna knew how to wine and dine, sweeping Seokjin up in what he could only describe as a whirlwind romance. She wanted to ensnare him, to make her life so irresistible, he couldn’t breathe without her. The plan would’ve worked too, if Kim Namjoon hadn’t stepped in.

It was late one Thursday in the middle of January, snow had fallen across campus coating it in a freezing blanket, when Seokjin arrived at his car. Resting gently on the dashboard was a note with a simple location, somewhere up town, no signature. Terrified by the thought of what would happen to him if he didn’t go, horrified by the thoughts of what might happen if he did go, Seokjin sat in his car, hands frozen to the steering wheel, eyes wide in shock. He had no good options.

Turning his car on, blasting the heat and whatever podcast he had started in the library, Seokjin drove cautiously to the location. He could turn on find my friends, sending his location to his brother. He could call his brother, and ask to mute himself, so that he could hear whatever happened. He could just wait in his car, unmoving until someone came and got him. That seemed like the best option. Wait an hour or so before leaving and hoping to never find a note perfectly placed, with his name on it, in his locked car ever again.

The best laid plans are always turned to shit, and as the minutes ticked by, an ever-present shadow kept growing. At first Jin thought it was an optical illusion, a trick of the light, but as it moved closer and closer, he became aware that it was in fact a man. A man rivaling his height, though shoulders less broad, and lips far from pouty, dressed in all black, his eyes cast down at Seokjin.

“Kim Seokjin, glad you made it,” He said, reaching for the handle of the door, he opened it.

“Who are you?” Jin asked.

The man shook his head and nodded towards the building behind them, practically windowless, it stood stories high. How a warehouse could look so majestic confused him, never had he seen a building like this before. Exiting his vehicle, he paused.

“Do you want the note?”

“No, we won’t be here tomorrow,” The man said as he walked towards the building. Matching his strides, Jin followed. He watched the man enter a code and have his retinas scanned before they stepped into the building. The darkness was only alleviated by small lights along the floorboards, guiding them to another locked door. Jin didn’t dare speak, only watched in astonishment.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Have a seat,” The man said before following his own directions.

“Who are you?” Seokjin asked, eyes trying to make sense of the dimly lit room.

“Welcome, Kim Seokjin, to OT7,” The lights were raised and Jin gasped. Not only was he seated at a large conference table, but it was now clear that there were two other men, dressed in black, looking like the Korean Mafia.

“Um, hello,” Seokjin nodded, staring at them.

“I am Kim Namjoon,” The first man said, his bleach blonde hair neatly quaffed back, exposing his forehead and spectacles. “I am glad you received my note. This is the team,”

“Min Yoongi, head of cyber intelligence, coding and security,” Yoongi said, eyes blinking quickly.

“Jung Hoseok, forgery and documentation,” Hoseok informed.

“We have brought you here for a specific reason,” Namjoon said.

“Okay,” Jin was still confused.

“You are friendly with Lee Euna,” Namjoon began.

“Yes,” Jin answered.

“You’re a scholar of economics and finance,” Namjoon continued.

“Yes,” Seokjin nodded, nothing was connecting.

“We want you to join our team,” Hoseok said. “Want is the wrong word, you are joining our team.”

“What team is that?” Jin was still confused.

“OT7, we are a highly trained, highly specialized group of agents tasked with protecting the world from the scum of the earth,” Yoongi said, sitting back in his chair.

“We look out for the good of the world,” Namjoon simplified. “It sounds nebulous, but I guarantee it is far more simplistic than you think.”

“Why me?” Seokjin whispered.

“You have been on our radar for years, and this year you stepped up to demonstrate your skills,” Namjoon told him.

“We need a member on the team who can analyze the trade, monitor our marks and watch for any concerning trades,” Yoongi clarified.

“More importantly, we need you to help us infiltrate the Lee family,” Hoseok spoke up, eyes moving from Yoongi’s to Namjoon’s, “That’s why he’s here, we don’t need to drag this out, the guy looks scared shitless.”

“Infiltrate the Lee family?” Seokjin repeated. “That’s, how?”

“You two are dating,” Yoongi said.

“Sure,” Jin nodded.

“To be direct, we need everything you have on Lee Euna and her family,” Hoseok said.

“I don’t have much, I mean, I don’t know anything about their business,” Seokjin’s eyes widened, still confused how he had managed to find himself here.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Namjoon said. “You are going to work with us, you are going to be onboarded and brought into this organization. Then, you are going to tell us every last detail you have on Lee Euna. Finally, the second most essential part of this plan, you are going to break her heart so that Yoongi can put her back together, gain access to her computer and plant various tracking software. With the information Yoongi gathers, you will spend your days analyzing their business models, following their stock and going over every financial record we have access to. Do you have any questions?”

“She loves me,” Seokjin’s eyes were wide, this was more preposterous than anything he’d seen in the business world.

“All the better reason to end it now,” Yoongi said.

“It’s, it’s almost Valentine’s Day, she loves Valentin’s Day,” Seokjin was pleading.

“Even better,” Yoongi responded.

“Why me?” Jin asked again.

“Can you find me someone more intelligent, more equipped?” Namjoon questioned.

“I’ve never broken someone’s heart,” Seokjin said, more to himself than to the other men.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Hoseok replied, tone gentle.

“Who are you again?” Seokjin repeated.

“Who are we,” Namjoon corrected, “OT7, your new family.”

“Welcome, you’re gonna love it,” Hoseok said laughing.

“Hoseok will pick you up tomorrow after your final class and bring you to our headquarters where we will begin your onboarding process. You will finish school early-

“How?” Jin interrupted.

“Summer school. You will quit your part time job and spend every waking moment not in class at headquarters. You have much to learn,” Namjoon finished.

“I’ll have your new phone ready for you tomorrow, bring your computer so I can fix whatever shit software you’ve got on it and amp up security,” Yoongi informed him.

“Am I, am I in danger?” Seokjin asked.

“No, you’re not. Yoongi has a new trainee tailing you, so if anything goes wrong, he’ll be there,” Namjoon answered.

“Who?” Jin asked.

“That’s for us to know.” Yoongi smirked.

“In any official documents, you will hence forth be referred to as-

“Worldwide Handsome,” Yoongi suggested, a glint of terror in his eyes.

“Codename WWH,” Namjoon nodded, “We use code names for every mission, need to know basis.”

“Okay,” Seokjin said, eyes trying to focus on his new family. “What’s this mission called?”

“The First Heartbreak,” Hoseok said, “I’m in charge of naming missions.”

“Your task, before Hoseok picks you up, is to break up with Codename Cupid.” Namjoon instructed, voice harsh.

“By tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Namjoon answered.

~~~~~

Seokjin drove until his gas tank was on empty, fear and confusion coursing through him. They, OT7, hadn’t given him much information, only his task: break up with Euna. Seokjin had never broken up with someone before, never watched the realization that the two of them weren’t building something come crashing down, gloss forming over their eyes as they tried to remain calm. He’d never hurt someone. He’d also never had a code name or been in some secret government organization. Was it a government organization? They hadn’t said. That was even more worrisome, expecting Hoseok to pick him up to take him to his first of what he assumed was many onboarding sessions. These men, the four of them, must be child prodigies, must be highly intelligent or bred to be in these positions. He couldn’t figure out how he fit into their plan, only that he had to.

Barely sleeping, he trudged through his classes, absentmindedly taking notes, counting down the hours until he had to break up with Euna, and then promptly hop into a car with a man he barely knew, Hoseok. Euna texted frequently, concerned over his lack of communication, and was excited to see him over coffee.

“Jinnie,” Euna called as she stepped into the coffee shop. Seokjin, having turned on voice recording, set his phone face down on the table.

“Euna,” He said, refusing to call her by any pet name. It was a trait about him she found frustrating, his inability to verbalize his affection. She loved him, she could say it, she could identify the feeling within her body, but Jin? Never said, never tried to say it, just grateful that she wanted to spend time with him.

“How are you? Where have you been?” Euna asked.

“Just really busy,” Seokjin shrugged, closing himself off to her.

“Oh?” Euna could see through his lie.

“Yeah, and I’ve been thinking,”

“I made reservations for Valentine’s day, it’ll be our 5-month anniversary too,” Euna sipped her latte, eyes bright but questioning.

“About that, Euna, I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” Seokjin said. On his long drive around town, he practiced his speech. The words, written by Namjoon, had been kind and direct.

“What?” Euna’s voice dropped. She hadn’t been expecting this.

“I need to focus on my work, and with Dr. Cho asking me to TA this semester and next spring, and with the option to TA two sections next year, I need to focus. All my time needs to be directed at my work. I am graduating early, and I just don’t have the time to be in a relationship. I’m sorry, Euna, I really am.”

Euna sat silently, eyes boring holes in the tabletop, her coffee forgotten. Hadn’t they been falling in love? Weren’t they planning a romantic Valentine’s Day weekend? Roses and chocolates and champagne at one of the hotels her parents owned, overlooking the city? Wasn’t he going to tell her that he loves her?

“I can’t believe this,” She whispered, a tear dropping from her eye. “I thought we were moving forward, falling in love.”

“I don’t know if I was,” Jin said.

It was in that moment that Euna felt herself shattering. She wiped the stray tear away before setting her eyes on her now ex-boyfriend.

“I trust you’ll be cordial in social situations,” Euna said.

“Of course,” Jin nodded, his gut reaction to reach for her hand gone as he took in her downcast features.

“Goodbye Seokjin,” Euna stood, staring into her full coffee cup.

“Goodbye Euna,” Seokjin responded.

On the drive to headquarters, Seokjin blindfolded, he listened to the droll of the radio. Hoseok didn’t say much as they meandered through the streets, onto the freeway and off. It was hard to tell what the actual directions was and what Hoseok was doing to throw him off. If only he knew how poor Seokjin’s sense of direction was.

“WWH, you can take your blindfold off,” Hoseok said, putting the car in park.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Seokjin asked.

“For the first month or so, then you’ll prove yourself and get to drive,” Hoseok responded.

“How did you get into this, group? Organization?” He was unsure what to call it, unsure what it even was.

“Ah, that’s a story for another time,” Hoseok guided him towards the elevator. Having his retina scanned, the doors opened, and they stepped in.

“Namjoon’s in charge?” Seokjin asked.

“Yes,” Hoseok nodded.

“He’s younger than me,” Jin stated.

“Yes,” Hoseok replied.

“Is he-

“A genius?” Hoseok smiled.

“Yeah,” Jin nodded.

“Yes,” Hoseok nodded again.

“Are all of you-

“Gifted?”

“Yeah,”

“Yes,” Hoseok looked at him, knowing full well his response answered the unaskable question.

“How did you-

“All in good time, Mr. Handsome,” Hoseok winked and stepped off the elevator, glancing at the empty reception desk before turning down a hallway.

“We’re briefing you before Yoongi takes over.”

“Yoongi?”

“Did you bring your phone and computer?” Yoongi asked, making his way towards the men.

“Yes, I did,” Seokjin handed over the devices.

“I didn’t ask if you have any other devices, iPad, tablet, anything,” Yoongi was busy looking over the material, not paying Seokjin any attention as he pulled off bar codes and shut down the machines.

“No, no tablet,” Jin answered.

“You do all that economics work, on this singular computer?” Yoongi questioned, disbelief in his voice.

“I have a monitor-

“Fuck, bring it tomorrow,”

“Ah, Worldwide Handsome, have a seat,” Namjoon said entering Yoongi’s office. “I trust it you slept horribly?”

“Absolutely horribly, worst night’s sleep,” Seokjin shook his head.

Eyeing the dark circles adorning Seokjin’s face, Namjoon spoke softly, “You didn’t go straight home yesterday.”

“Uh, no, I didn’t.”

“Did you follow through on your orders?” Namjoon questioned.

“Yes,”

“Yoongi, send the voice memo and print the transcription,” Namjoon directed.

“I’ll listen and transcribe it, give me 5 minutes,” There was no further discussion, Hoseok stood and moved to his office across the hall.

“Mm, let’s talk about Lee Euna,” Namjoon led Seokjin into a conference room on the opposite glass wall of Yoongi’s office. The exposed brick was laced with a variety of greenery, plants of all species crawling up the walls and windowsills.

“Alright,” Seokjin sat down, his heart moving his center of gravity to easily meet the cushion of the office chair.

“How long have you known her?” Namjoon asked.

“I’ve known of her since freshman year, but only became acquainted with her this fall when we became partners in Dr. Cho’s class.”

“Who asked who to be partners?” Namjoon pressed.

“She asked me,” Seokjin replied.

“Any idea why?”

“No,” Jin shrugged, he’d been wondering the same thing since she asked.

“When did you begin dating?”

“November,” Jin answered.

“Two and a half months after the project began?” Namjoon clarified.

“Yes,”

“How is she, as a business partner?”

“She knows a lot more than she lets on, about everything,” He shrugged.

“What did you know of her family before you started seeing each other?”

“They are one of the most elusive and public family’s in the world,” Namjoon started, “They have billions, donate to charity, and have hands in every aspect of the financial system, both in the states and globally.”

“What do you know now?” Hoseok asked, setting the transcription in front of Namjoon.

“Euna doesn’t talk about her family much…”

“What do you know?” Namjoon asked again.

“Dae-Seong is the devil incarnate, angry and vindictive, abusive to all three siblings. Jun-Seo is flirtatious and rambunctious, takes his job very seriously. Kwan-Min is much like Jun-Seo, and the two are inseparable.”

“How does Euna relate to them?” Hoseok wondered.

He took a seat next to Namjoon and stared at the greenery. Seokjin hadn’t spent enough time with him to understand the full duality of Hoseok, but he had the feeling there was more to him than met his eye.

“She doesn’t, Dae-Seong has made it clear that she is the golden maknae of the family, and everyone should bow at her feet. He hates her and has made it his mission to turn the other two against her as well. When they announced she would take over the company –

“They didn’t announce that,” Namjoon interrupts, eyes darting to Hoseok.

“I thought they-

“YOONGI!” Namjoon yelled, voice rattling the glass separating them from the coder.

“Aye, what?” Yoongi asked, stepping into the room.

“Lee Euna is set to become the next CEO of Lee Enterprises,”

“Says who?” Yoongi shot back.

“Mr. Handsome,” Hoseok said.

“Is that really how I’m going to be addressed?” Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” Hoseok smiled.

“It’s not in any papers or reports, no internal memos, nothing. No one has that information. Are you sure, Lee Euna is set to become CEO?” Yoongi stared at Seokjin, wondering if this string bean was holding the key to the gates of paradise.

“She said it one night, we were talking about the future and jobs,” Jin informed them.

“Did she offer you a job at Enterprises?” Namjoon demanded.

Seokjin glanced from man to man, anger and frustration in their eyes. “Yeah, but I said that would be weird… We haven’t been together that long.”

A pause filled the room, air the only thing exchanging between the men. Jin couldn’t tell if he had just fucked up, or royally fucked up.

“Did she say when?” Yoongi asked.

“No, probably a few years after graduation, her dad wants her to spend more time actual in the company before she takes over,” Jin answered.

“Mm,” Namjoon nodded, his rage ebbing as he broke down the information. “What does that do for our plan?”

“What’s the plan?” Seokjin asked.

“Oh, Worldwide Handsome, you have so much to learn.”

Next: Searching for Seokjin

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emybain · 5 years

Text

Renegades Titanic AU: Part 2

I have a lot of random enthusiasm for this okay? just let me write it out for my own sanity. these are pretty short so far, so I can write them pretty quickly. anyway, enjoy!

side note: as someone who has many health problems and a mother with asthma and grandparents and family members who smoke(d) and some died from cancer, I do not condone smoking. bUt I had to think about the time the movie takes place/when the actual ship sailed, as well as the characters:)

part 1

part 2: At First Sight

Nova

It was stuffy inside the third class general room. It was currently just before lunchtime, and Nova was certain that the entire third class was crowded inside the room. It was too small for seven hundred people all to share. She grabbed one of the papers that was on the table in front of her and folded it up to fan her face. For once, she was jealous of Honey’s handheld fan that she carried with her everywhere.

She looked at their four person table. It was small. They were small. Once upon a time Ace had supporters around the country and at his feet, kissing his shoes. And now here they were, the four of them. Just Nova, Ingrid, Honey, and Leroy. Before they left America, Winston had been placed in an insane asylum, and Ace’s closest ally, a man nicknamed Phobia, was arrested. The four of them were all that was left.

“Little Nightmare, are you paying attention?” Ingrid snapped her fingers in front of Nova’s face. Nova blinked and sat up.

“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m paying attention.”

Ingrid raised her eyebrows. “Sure you were.”

Nova rolled her eyes and scanned their plans laid out before her. There was a sketch of Ace’s prison, a map of the city where the prison was located, and a handful of notes.

It had been decided weeks ago that Nova had to be the one to physically free her uncle. As her alter ego, Nightmare, she was unrecognizable and had yet to be caught, at least in Europe. She was currently one of the most wanted criminals in London, Paris, and a dozen other cities. The others were already being watched with every move they made due to their own criminal pasts, so they used her as a loophole to continue their crimes.

“Remind me again how all of this ties into us murdering the Council.” Nova flipped through the papers. The ‘Council’ was their nickname for the five people who were in charge of all the Renegades; they were the power hungry and stuck up asses who betrayed Ace years before and had him imprisoned.

“We free Ace, his old allies return, and our power is restored,” Honey drawled. Her eyes wandered the room, most likely for someone who was attractive. But it third class, it was hard to come by. Most of the third class guests were immigrants or homeless or both, but they all had poverty in common, and poverty was not a handsome trait.

Sweat trickled down the back of Nova’s neck. Her fingers were itching for a cigarette, but Honey had confiscated the pack she snuck onboard with them.

“It’s unladylike,” she had said before hiding them from Nova.

Nova didn’t even like smoking. She found it rather disgusting, in all honesty, but it gave her something to do; it was something to distract her mind.

The heat of the room was growing more and more unbearable. Suddenly, Nova stood from her chair.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need a minute.” Leroy began to stand, but Nova had already started out the door when he called her name.

_________

Adrian

The bell for lunch would be ringing soon, but Adrian and his friends were outside on the deck, looking at the ocean before them. The others chatted with one another while Adrian was bent over his sketchbook that was perched over the fine wood railing. He looked up every few seconds, eyes pointed down toward the third class deck. There was a grandfather holding a little girl up on the railing, probably explaining the mechanisms of the ship, from the way he was pointing down below at the water.

“Do you ever sell your work, Adrian?” He turned his head up to find Danna looking at him, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

He shook his head. “I have no need. If anyone ever wants a piece of mine, I give it to them for free.”

Ruby snorted. “How charitable. Could you draw me something, Adrian?”

“You could draw me,” Oscar offered, “but I’d like a nude portrait.”

Adrian pushed him jokingly, laughing out loud. “That would cost you.”

“Well, I am worth a lot,” Oscar said, to which both Ruby and Danna laughed at. Adrian opened his mouth to respond, but it closed when his eyes found someone new on the third class deck. At first, he thought it might be a young man, because of the shorter hair and suspenders and trousers, but upon closer inspection, he saw it was a young lady, probably around his age. She made her way to the railing overlooking the ocean, resting her arms on the rail, crossed at the wrist. He could only see half of her face, for she was facing away from him, but even from his spot on the first class deck, higher up than her, he could point out her sharp features.

He could also tell, from the way she was standing and the way she had walked, that she was thoroughly pissed.

Adrian flipped to a new page in his sketchbook quickly, pencil hovering over the blank paper to begin a new piece. But he froze as pencil hit paper. Something in his head told him to not draw her, that even he, who had been into art since he was young and was skilled at drawing, could not catch her person properly.

“It seems like our sweet, kind, quiet Adrian has a crush.” Adrian tore his eyes from the girl to look at Oscar, whose lips were curled up teasingly.

Adrian felt his cheeks heat up. “What? No. She just looks interesting is all.” He turned back to her, pursing his lips. “Different.”

Danna and Ruby moved closer to take a look, Ruby leaning over the rail, as she was the furthest away. “She’s very pretty,” Danna observed. “But seriously, Adrian, she’s third class. We know your dads expect you to get married soon, but be a little more realistic. It could never happen.” Her tone was light, teasing, but it still hit Adrian with reality. At least it wasn’t like he was actually attracted to her or wanted to meet her.

She turned her head then, and her eyes met Adrian’s. His breath caught in his throat. He was wrong. He was definitely attracted to her and a sudden longing to learn her name and her life story filled his body. She turned away again, but after a few seconds, looked back up. Adrian was still staring. Feeling awkward, he raised a hand and waved weakly. She scowled at him and whipped her head to face the ocean once again.

Another woman, this one dressed rather elaborately for someone in third class strolled up beside the girl, reaching for her arm. The girl turned and yanked her arm back, as if repulsed. The woman was much older, and at first, Adrian suspected she was the girl’s mother. However, something told him he knew the woman, and so that meant he must know the girl too, but he didn’t, so he ruled out the familial relation. Also, they looked nothing like one another. She could be adopted, he supposed, like him, but he highly doubted it by the look she was giving the woman.

The woman said something to her, which deepened the annoyed look on her face. She scoffed and brushed past the woman, stalking off and out of Adrian’s view. His heart sank.

“Honey Harper,” said Danna, her voice now cold. She pulled at Adrian’s arm as the lunch bell rang. “See, Adrian? She’s one of them. You don’t want to get mixed up with her, even if it’s just a fling. She’s no good.”

Adrian allowed himself to be pulled away by his friends, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the girl for all of lunch and the rest of the day.

#renegades #archenemies #nova artino #Adrian everhart #Oscar silva #danna bell #ruby tucker #anarchists #my writing

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godyouredull · 5 years

Text

I’ll Give You A Show | All You Have To Do Is Fall In Love AU

Other Parts: 1 2 3 Author: Sarah - @godyouredull Pairing: Ben Hardy / OFC, Joe Mazzello / OFC Rating: T Word Count: 1.6k POV: Sarah Warnings: series warnings Summary: Sarah might have something up her sleeve when she invites her roommate, Michaela, over to Ben’s place to make a nice home cooked breakfast.

Masterlist found here! Series Summary: Best friends and college roommates Ben, Joe, and Gwil, find themselves tangled up with a group of girls who bring out the best (and worst) in them. Series Warnings: drinking, swearing Authors’ Note: Stories can stand alone, but it’s much better when read all together! Not everything is always in the same tense, or same point of view/perspective.

It’s 10:01 am and my phone is buzzing, I see Michaela’s name on the screen and quickly answer it.

“Hey.” My voice comes out super gravely and I clear it before speaking again. “Are you here?”

“Yes, so put some clothes on and let me in.”

“10-4.”

Ben is still sleeping soundly with his front pressed against my back. I carefully remove his arm from around me and stand up, just a bit weak in the knees. Jesus, I’m sore. Definitely in the good way but still. He groans a bit as he feels me get out of bed, making a pathetic attempt to pull me back down.

“Where’re ya goin?” He mumbles.

“I’m just gonna let Mic in. You can stay here, I’ll be right back.” I kiss his forehead and then fumble around his room, looking for something to wear. I grab my panties and his shirt which fits a bit big on me before walking to the front door and opening it.

“Again, I’m not sure that really qualifies as clothes.” Mic says.

“I’m not naked and that’s good enough. Come in.” I lead her to the kitchen and find Joe already sitting at the counter. Crap, maybe I should’ve put pants on. “Ben bought all the ingredients last night and left them by the stove for you and I double-checked to make sure they have all the proper materials.”

“You must be Michaela.” Joe stands up to greet her and Mic stops in her tracks. “I’m Joe.”

“Oh, and yeah this is Joe. Your local tea and breakfast enthusiast.”

“Hi.” She says. Neither of them move to shake hands or anything. I almost want to laugh but it seems cruel.

“Uh, right well I’m gonna go get dressed and rouse Ben. You two get situated and I’ll be right back.” I hurriedly rush back into Ben’s room and close the door behind me, leaning up against it to try and hear their interaction unfold.

“What are you doing?” I jump, not realizing Ben was awake and standing.

“Uhm. Nothing.” I answer too quickly.

“What’s going on?”

“Mic is here. Joe’s at the counter. She’s making breakfast.” I pause, flustered. “You knew this.” He takes a step closer to me, with a look on his face that tells me he’s putting the pieces together.

“Oh my GOD.”

“What?”

“You’re setting them up!”

“SHHH!” I clasp my hand over his mouth and bring him to the door to listen with me.

“You are unbelievable.” He mumbles underneath my hand.

My phone buzzes in my hand and I see a text from Mic.

“You did NOT tell me Joe was gonna be here.”

Ben reads it over my shoulder. I remove my hand from his mouth to type out a response to her.

“She knows who he is?” He asks in a normal speaking voice.

“Be quiet!” I whisper.

“Well they’re roommates! Obviously he’s here.”

I press send and then open Ben’s bedroom door slightly to give me a better chance of watching their inevitable conversation. Ben gives in and listens with me. A drama queen, as predicted.

“So Ben tells me you make kick ass breakfast pretty often over at your place?” Joe asks.

“Oh I don’t know about all that. It’s pretty standard.”

“Anything that’s not a bowl of cereal and a cup of tea is VIP treatment at this apartment.”

Mic takes a second to look at the ingredients Ben bought: pancake batter, bacon, eggs, cheese, blueberries, orange juice and champagne.

“Who are the mimosas for?” She asks.

“Probably Sarah. I really only drink tea in the morning.”

“Me too.” Mic smiles. “It doesn’t look like he bought any though.”

“Oh, I have tons. Can I make you a cup? It’s only fair since you’re making an entire breakfast on your own.” He offered her tea! I smack Ben on the chest in excitement.

“What is with you?!” He exclaims in a whisper.

“Sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” I kiss the spot I just smacked. He shakes his head and laughs. I’m definitely gonna have to make this up to him.

“Sure! Yeah that’d be great.” She accepts. SHE ACCEPTS! Ben steps out of my range of motion just in time, avoiding my smack. He’s learning. That’s good.

“Earl grey?” I hear Joe’s stool slide against the hardwood floor as he stands up.

“You read my mind.”

He walks over to his cabinet and pulls out two mugs, both of which have New York Yankees symbols on them.

“You’re a baseball fan?” She asks.

“Best sport in the world.” He’s wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Oh boy. Don’t stare too hard, Mic.

“I don’t know enough about it to really argue with that but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well you’re always welcome to stop by here and watch a game.” He stutters. “You know, with me… or us. I think Sarah watches baseball.” At this, Ben and I look at each other with wide eyes.

“Oh my god. Did he just…” He asks, clearly just as excited as me.

“I think SO.”

“You’re an evil genius.”

“Thanks, baby.” I kiss him quickly.

“She mostly watches football but you could really talk her into any sporting event.” Mic responds. “Uh… but yeah, that sounds good.”

“I get pretty into it though. Fair warning.” He stands against the counter top, pressing his hand into the granite to give himself balance. He’s essentially leaning over her. She looks very short next to him.

“Oh you’re one of those? I’m okay with it. Makes it more entertaining.” She literally has not picked up one breakfast item. They’re just standing in the kitchen… talking. This is going better than I thought.

“Well I’ll give you a show.” Ben’s jaw literally drops open and I chuckle. I hear Mic clear her throat.

“Uh, so I assume the blueberries are for the pancakes?” She looks away, changing the subject.

“You could go that route. Or you could put them in the eggs if you’re feeling experimental.” I hear her laugh.

“You know what? I’ll make a special batch just for you.”

“Oh yum. I’m looking forward to it.” Ben starts laughing again.

“Jesus. Can’t wait to watch him eat those.” He whispers and I join in his laughter. He leans his forehead against my shoulder trying to conceal his giggles but, of course, he trips on his sweatpants that are way too long for him. He crashes against me, causing me to accidentally slam the door shut.

“Shit! Move!” I tell him.

“Give me one second.” I hear Joe say to Michaela. Ben points aggressively to the bed and then scutters into his bathroom, hurriedly putting toothpaste on his toothbrush. I situate myself on Ben’s bed, pulling the blanket over my lap and open my phone, pretending I’ve been on it this whole time. There’s a knock and I try to pretend I’m not expecting it.

“Uh… One second!” I look at Ben, who’s laughing, and give him a thumbs up. “Okay come in.” Joe opens the door and steps in, closing it behind him.

“What’s going on?” He asks with a bit of urgency.

“What do you mean?” I ask innocently.

“You didn’t tell me your Michaela was that cute!”

“Oh. Huh. Well, my bad. Now you know.” He exhales quickly, sounding flustered as hell.

“Why did you slam the door just now?”

“Did I? Ben? Did you slam the door?” Ben steps out of the bathroom, still brushing his teeth.

“No I didn’t. It was probably a draft or something, mate. Calm down.” He says it so nonchalantly I could get up and kiss him right now. Part of me feels bad dragging him into my antics but if I didn’t know any better I’d say he’s enjoying himself. Joe looks incredibly caught off guard though. I look at Ben with a look that begs him to be encouraging.

“Are you two up to something?” Joe accuses us. Ben finishes brushing his teeth and then moves to stand in front of Joe, putting his hands on his shoulders.

“No, mate, you’re just flustered.” He smooths Joe’s hair down because it’s still a bit unruly. From sleep or running his fingers through it, I don’t know. “Now, get back out there and work your charm. We’ll join you in a second.” Joe takes a deep breath and walks out of Ben’s room, leaving the two of us alone again.

“You owe me.” Ben points a finger at me.

“Excuse me! It’s your fault that door slammed.”

“You could’ve told me you were planning this!”

“Would you have gone along with it?” He opens his mouth to say something but doesn’t. “Exactly. Now, let me put some pants on and we can go out there.”

“Wait, no.” He stops me from opening the door. “Let’s… let them talk a bit more.” I step back and look at him in shock.

“Well, well look who’s onboard.” I say. He smirks and pulls me into him, our bodies pressed against each other.

“You still owe me.” He whispers in his deep ass voice.

“Yes sir.” I whisper back and we quickly kiss.

“Here’s your tea.” I hear Joe say. “Now how about I help you with those blueberry eggs?” Mic laughs.

“I really… I don’t think I can bring myself to actually make those.” They’re both laughing now.

“Fair enough. What can I help with then?” He offers.

“That depends. How do you like your eggs?”

“Thoroughly whisked and beaten.” I don’t see Mic’s reaction but I can just picture it.

“Jesus, Joe.” Ben whispers and then sighs. “C’mon. Let’s go out there.” And pulls my hand into the kitchen.

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

@a-night-at-the-0pera @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @lelifesaver@redspecialty @rrrogahtaylahhhh

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must-be-brooklyn · 6 years

Note

nervous wreck davey telling jack something modern au?

Sure! — tbh, I highkey believe that David is extremely anxious and freaks out over everything from really major life changes to the littlest things that he probably doesn’t even need to know about so I am all onboard with idea haha

Ship: Javid

Words: 1.0k

Era: Modern au (high school or college — you interpret how you want!)

David’s stomach rolled as he sat, cross-legged, opposite to Jack on his bed. The words he needed to say were still buzzing around his head and he already felt like he was about to vomit. A lump grew in his throat and he returned his eyes from Jack to the half-finished French homework in front of him.

“You ‘right, Dave?” Jack asked, looking up from his maths sums. “You look kinda off.”

Nodding out of sheer determination, David refused to look at Jack. The things he had been trying to say died in his throat before he even managed to open his mouth.

Jack continued to stare, though, his forehead furrowed. “You sure?” He put his pen on top of the papers in his lap. “You look like you do before you have a panic attack.” His unrelenting bluntness usually did not bother David, but it felt like a punch in the gut today.

David sucked in a sharp breath which in itself was becoming increasingly difficult to do as his airways seemed to close up. His hands trembled as he drew them into tight fists in an effort to stop the movements.

Frowning, Jack grabbed David’s wrists with gentle hands. “Dave, what’s up? You’ve been weird all today.” His grip tightened slightly as David tried to pull away. “I ain’t lettin’ this go. Someone been givin’ you shit or somethin’?”

Momentarily jolted out of his panic, David froze and looked at Jack in confusion. “What, no? Why would I be?”

“Well, you ain’t acted this weird since then,” Jack said as if it was a perfectly logical connection to make. Perhaps it was. David’s brain did not seem capable of making any sort of reasonable links when he was so worked out.

That thought only made him feel worse. David was well aware of how incapacitated his anxiety often left him. On the worst days, it was completely debilitating. Even when it was only mild, he still often ended up feeling floppy and useless.

Jack’s hold loosened a little and his expression softened. “Seriously, Dave, what’s wrong?”

David’s stomach flipped dangerously as he tried to work up to saying the words that he had been planning for, at this point, months. Often, the one thing David wanted people to understand better was that his bursts of anxiety were not always caused by specific events. Sometimes, more often than David care to think about before he had started his medications, there was absolutely no recognisable trigger.

This was definitely not one of those times, though. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and he struggled to say anything.

Moaning lowly, David lent forward and rested his head on his knees in despair, trying desperately to get his thoughts back under control. Jack let his hands go as he did so, and instead, patted David’s back gently.

“You ready to talk?” Jack asked when, after a few minutes, David pushed himself upright again. “Or, not today?”

David swallowed. “Just… You’re not going out with Katherine?”

“No?” Jack looked completely lost and went still. “You know we broke up months back and I ain’t dated anyone since then. Why?”

David mumbled under his breath and wrung his hands together, gazing at his fingers as if entranced by them. “I think I like you,” he said, voice so soft that he could barely even hear himself.

Jack was silent for a few seconds. “What?” he murmured.

Blushing bright red, David shook his head. “It doesn’t matter!” His words immediately pitched up an octave and sounded as fake as the laugh he gave.

“No, I heard you,” Jack said. He sounded so measured that David’s heart would have pitched itself off the nearest cliff if it could have done so. “I was just surprised…” His eyes were fixed on David’s bowed head and with a hand, he reached out to draw his head up again.

David did not resist Jack’s gesture but tried to avoid his gaze. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” The sickness in his stomach was intensifying. It was an active struggle to not run from the scene, but he had enough common sense left to know that it would only make things worse at school.

“D’you wanna go on a date with me?” Jack asked suddenly. He dropped his hand, but David’s head did not fall with it. “Next weekend, maybe?”

David looked around the room wildly, his brain spinning almost as much as his head was. “What?” he said in disbelief.

Jack shrugged, looking bashful. “I mean, I’ve kinda been pinin’ after you for ages and Spot’s been threatenin’ to tell you for ages.” His cheeks coloured, almost as pink as David’s were. “He keeps sayin’ that… Well, doesn’t matter, anyway. You wanna go on that date?”

Dizzyingly confused, David tried his best to nod, before pausing. “I’m not dating you if this is pity,” he said, voice only catching on a few of the words which made him more proud than he probably had any right to be. His chest still felt like it was bound by a boa constrictor as he fought for what he was saying.

“Trust me, it ain’t pity,” Jack said. There was something unreadable in his voice, but it was a tone that David had come to trust with unexplainable loyalty. “So, a date, then?”

David nodded slowly. Slowly, he could feel a weight dropping from his shoulders and the spasms in his belly slowing. “Okay,” he agreed, cautious.

Jack grinned at him, and David could not help but note that he looked very genuinely excited. Managing a small smile in return, David fought as much of the excess emotion into submission as he could. Not the most effective strategy or one that was particularly good in general, but one that would suffice just fine for now.

“Awesome,” Jack laughed, picking his pen up again and twirling it between his fingers. “This is gonna be great.”

David picked up his French homework and shuffled the papers into order. His fingers were still jittery, but there was anticipation mixed in with all the other things raging around his bloodstream. “Yeah,” he said, “it’ll be amazing.” And, for once, he could believe that it might even be true.

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jercythesiscrying · 6 years

Text

Ride drop top and chase thrills | EnnoTana, T, 5.1k

NaNoWriMo Day 19: Arranged Marriage OR Fake Dating AU Day Two of AU Week! Posting a new AU fic every day for one week.

Summary: Ryuu and Chikara share an apartment in Tokyo when Chikara needs to convince his parents that the two of them are in a relationship.

This fell under AU Week but tbh it can also be read as canon compliant ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Read on Ao3

A/N: Shout out to the Stream Team discord for throwing ideas at me—sorry I couldn’t make this as angsty as it could be /o\ Also, mucho thank yous and kisses to Pat-friend for the exceptionally quick beta and always holding my hand (Ｔ▽Ｔ) All other mistakes are mine.

Title is from Feels by Calvin Harris (the working title was “oh my god they were roommates” so y’all can't complain lol).

“Why am I doing this again?”

“Because I will help you with whatever you want for a month if you help me convince my parents I’m in a relationship.”

Ryuu nods, remembering that part of the conversation. He looks at the scenery blazing by outside his window before meeting Ennoshita’s gaze. They’re on the bullet train to Sendai because somehow Ryuu got talked into meeting Ennoshita’s parents as his boyfriend.

“And why do you need to do that?” he asks. Ennoshita looks at him with a tired expression, and he puts his hands up in defense. “Hey, you just sprung it on me! I didn’t get everything—just jumped on the train when you said come with!”

Which is basically how his last 12 hours have been: Ennoshita begging him for help last night, that he needed to go to Miyagi in the morning and someone had to come with him or he’d be fucked, and Ryuunosuke—ever the greatest friend alive, in his mind at least—agreed, hastily packing his bags for an overnight stay at Ennoshita’s parents’ place. It’s a miracle that Ryuu has the next few days off work so he can help Ennoshita out, but it means the details about everything that happened is remarkably fuzzy.

Ennoshita sighs. “Yeah, I know.” He swipes a palm over his face. “Thanks for that, Tanaka.”

“It’s fine,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But why do we need to convince your parents again?”

“They think I’m too focused on grad school –”

“Which you are.”

Ennoshita glares at him. “And that I should be looking for a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “I told them I was already in a relationship, I think after that time I nearly died for The Essay?”

Ryuu winces at the reminder. That wasn’t a good night, for eitherof them.

“Anyway, apparently I mumbled something about a boyfriend and now I’m too embarrassed to say I was lying.” He buries his head in his hands. “I asked Kazushi at first—my writing partner at school?—but he bailed last minute.” When he looks up, he exhales a deep breath. “The only good thing is that I didn’t give any names until, like, last night after I convinced you to come with me.”

“She’s fine with you dating your roommate?”

“Apparently.” Ennoshita shrugs.

Ryuu purses his lips into a flat line. He’s already on the way to Miyagi so it’s not like he can argue at this point, but he’s still hesitant about lying to his friend’s parents.

Ennoshita clasps his hands together, pleading, “Please, Tanaka, just for a little while? I’ll say we broke up at the end of the semester or something.”

He hums his disapproval but relents. “Fine, fine. But you’re helping me with house chores for a month and buying me melonpan for, like, ever after this.”

Ennoshita grins, sliding down into his seat with relief. “Done.”

“So,” Ryuu says, satisfied with their deal, “what’s the plan?”

“Just... follow my lead, okay?”

“Chikara! Ryuunosuke! Come in, come in!” Ennoshita’s mom greets them at the door, all but pulling them inside.

“Ojamashimasu,” Ryuu says, toeing out of his shoes. He passes a gift bag to her as he does so. “Roll cake from the station,” he says with a smile.

“Thank you!” Mrs. Ennoshita says, grinning. “You didn’t have to!”

Ryuu blushes, unsure how to answer. Ennoshita said to get it for formality’s sake. “Um, it’s my pleasure, Mrs. Ennoshita,” he eventually says.

“Oh, Ryuunosuke-kun, you can just call me Auntie.” She looks over her shoulder, calling out, “Dear!” Ryuu gulps, seeing Ennoshita’s dad walk into the hallway. “Chikara’s boyfriend brought us roll cake, isn’t that sweet?”

Mr. Ennoshita smiles warmly at him. “Thank you, Ryuunosuke.”

Ryuu forces a smile, lowering his head in a shallow bow. He blushes at Ennoshita’s mom calling him “Chikara’s boyfriend” before shooting a panicked look at Ennoshita. His pretend date widens his eyes at him, silently mouthing his lips:

Play along!

Ryuu holds back a sigh as the Ennoshitas lead him into the house.

He does his best during dinner, though it’s definitely a trying time.

“And that’s how Nishikata-san hosed water all over himself!”

Mrs. Ennoshita giggles loudly, her husband chuckling along heartily with her, and Chikara laughs politely. Under the table someone kicks Ryuu, and he holds back a whine, beginning to chuckle softly as well.

“So funny, Mom,” Ennoshita mumbles, picking at his food.

“Oh, honey,” she says, “are you sure that’s all you’re going to have? You’re looking a little thin.”

“I’m fine,” he answers flatly.

Ryuu glares at him, and Ennoshita glares back—they’ve had this conversation hundreds of times already since moving in together. Ryuu didn’t realize it was a script Ennoshita memorized with his parents too.

Mrs. Ennoshita tsks, but drops the subject.

“So,” she says, scooping into her plate with a wide smile, “Ryuunosuke, we’re so happy you and Chikara are together! We know you’ve been friends a long time, but how long have you been dating?”

Ryuu looks at Ennoshita with wide eyes, who replies with a pointed look of his own. “Uhhh,” he stalls, “not very—um—long?”

“Oh!” she says. “Chikara, I thought you said you two have been together for a while?”

“Um, yeah, it’s been a few months,” Ennoshita says easily, flashing a threatening smile at him. Ryuu tries not to choke on his dinner.

“It just–uh”—he scrambles for words—“feels like no time at all, being with Chikara! I didn’t realize how, er, fast the time flew,” he says, hoping it doesn’t come across as lame as it sounds.

Mrs. Ennoshita coos. “Aw, that’s so sweet! Isn’t that sweet, dear?”

The father nods, smiling softly at them. “It felt that way when I was with your mother,” he says to Ennoshita. “And now look where we are!”

He and Ennoshita respond with another weak laugh. Ryuu hopes that the panic he feels isn’t visible on his face.

Later that night, Ryuu slips into the sleeping mat that Mrs. Ennoshita brings out, laying it next to Ennoshita’s bed. He pumps the spare pillow a few times, resting an arm on it.

“How d’you think it went?” he asks quietly as Ennoshita steps into his bed.

“Well, I think they bought it,” Ennoshita whispers. “Just gotta get through tomorrow and then this’ll be over.”

Ryuu nods, lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. He looks up at the ceiling when he says, “Yeah, just get through tomorrow.”

After a while, Ennoshita mumbles, “Night, Tanaka. Thanks again.”

“Night.”

Get through tomorrow proves much more difficult than Ryuu anticipates. With their ticket back to Tokyo booked for late in the afternoon, he’s introduced to the neighbours, the baker, and some of Ennoshita’s aunties as Ennoshita’s boyfriend before his parents let him and Ryuu go.

“Please come again!” Mrs. Ennoshita says when she and her husband drop them off at the station. “You barely visit home, Chikara,” she admonishes her son.

Ryuu nudges Ennoshita’s arm with an elbow. “Chikara,” he whines, “that’s so mean to Auntie and Uncle.”

Mr. Ennoshita barks out a laugh. “Listen to your boyfriend,” he chuckles.

Chikara blushes, shooting Ryuu a glare. He grins back, because he loves being a little shit. They say their goodbyes to Ennoshita’s parents, waving at them at the turnstiles.

When they’re finally onboard the train, sitting comfortably across each other, Ryuu comments, “I think that went well.”

“Sorry about how long everything took,” Ennoshita says. He gives Ryuu a sheepish look.

“It’s fine. Your folks are real nice, and the aunties only pinched my cheek twice.”

Ennoshita groans, burying his face into his hands. “God,that was so embarrassing.”

Ryuu chortles, head thrown back in delight. “Chikara, it’s fine. I got free meals and now you’re buying me melonpan for life—totally worth it.”

Ennoshita looks up at him with a curious smile.

“‘Chikara’, huh?”

Ryuu shrugs. “Well, if we’re dating, we should use first names, right? I’ve been calling you that since we were at your parents’ place.”

Chikara scoffs a laugh, nodding. “That’s true. But I don’t think I can call you anything but ‘Tanaka’ at this point.”

“That’s fine,” Ryuu replies. “It’s just for your folks back home, yeah? It’ll be easy.”

In hindsight, those are his famous last words.

“Tanaka!” Chikara screams. “I need to FaceTime my mom!”

Ryuu races to Chikara’s room, jumping onto his bed without hesitation. They’ve been doing this for a few weeks now, he knows the drill. FaceTime Mrs. Ennoshita, have his arm around Chikara, pretend like everything’s okay, and then he can go back to –

Well, whatever. So what if Ryuu doesn’t have much going on right now? At least he can spare some time to help out a friend.

“Chikara?” A tinny voice comes from Chikara’s phone. “Can you see me?”

Auntie’s face is a little blurry, but once the connection settles the resolution clears up. She has her hair up in a bandana, and Ryuu can tell that she just finished gardening if the smear of dirt on her cheek is any indication.

Strange how he already knows this.

“Hi, Mom!”

“Hi, Auntie!”

“Hello!” Mrs. Ennoshita smiles. “Oh, and Ryuu-kun too! Hello!”

“Auntie, you have dirt on your cheek,” Ryuu points out politely.

Mrs. Ennoshita touches her face, blushing. “Oh goodness! Sorry about that—I just finished gardening, you know.”

Knew it, he thinks.

“That’s nice, Auntie! How are the petunias coming along?”

A notification pops up on Chikara’s phone, interrupting the videochat.

“Ryuu? Chikara? Dear, are you still there?”

Chikara frowns, looking at Ryuu. “It’s an email from my prof. I need to go answer it on my laptop. Keep talking to my mom.”

Chikara passes the phone to Ryuu, who takes it easily. “Sorry, Auntie! Chika has to do something really quick, but he’ll be back,” he explains.

“Oh, that’s fine, Ryuu-kun,” she says, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m happy to talk to you. Anyway the petunias are –”

Ryuu preens at the praise, grinning at the screen as Auntie continues to babble about her little garden.

It should be weirder, how comfortable he is videochatting his friend’s mom, but he genuinely likes Chikara’s parents. His mom’s easy to talk to, even if she puts him on the spot a lot, and his dad is just as kind.

Pretending to be Chikara’s boyfriend is way easier than he thought it’d be too. Ryuunosuke’s never been afraid of being physically affectionate with his friends. In high school he was always happy to throw an arm around Noya’s shoulders, or clap Narita on the back, or ruffle Kinoshita’s hair. It didn’t change once he graduated from Karasuno, nor did it change once he finished college. Chikara’s been on the receiving end of a lot of Ryuu’s affection because they’ve been friends for so many years; the only difference is the sentiment the Ennoshitas attach to the gestures.

Like how Auntie brings it up now.

“– and it’s so nice to know that Chikara has someone to look after him when I can’t,” she rambles. “That boy works too hard, you know, just like his father, really. And the both of them need someone to make sure they’re eating properly, or to remind them to get some sleep.” Ryuu laughs, because that sounds exactlylike Chikara.

“But I really am glad you can also comfort Chikara when he needs it too,” she continues. She smiles at him through the screen, and Ryuu blushes.

“Uh, er –”

What the hell is he supposed to say? He looks after his friends, sure, but comfort?Ryuu’s not sure if he really does that. And what does she mean by “comfort”? Like emotional comfort? Physical? A blush rises to his cheeks before he can stop it.

“I’m so glad that you can give my baby boy a hug when he needs it,” Auntie continues, and Ryuu tries to relax. Hugs,he thinks, she was talking about hugs.

“Oh, um, o-of course, Auntie!” he stutters.

“Mooooom!” Chikara whines, making his way back to the bed, easily taking a space on the bed. “I’m in grad school, I’m not a baby,” he says as he squeezes into the frame with Ryuu. He holds his breath, heart suddenly starting to race at Chikara’s proximity.

“You’re always my baby, Chikara,” she says sternly. She looks away from the screen momentarily before saying, “Oh, shoot, look at the time! I’ve got to start on dinner now, but thank you for talking to me!”

“No problem, Mom. We’ll talk later!”

“A-always nice seeing you, Auntie!” Ryuu tries to keep his voice even, still started by thinking about “comforting” Chikara. Neither Ennoshita seems to catch his unease.

She blows two kisses to the screen with a wave. “Love you boys! Bye, bye!”

And the call ends.

Chikara sighs. “Sorry for making you talk to my mom for most of that, Tanaka,” he apologizes. “Sensei’s email was really long and I couldn’t ignore it.”

“N-nah, it’s fine,” he says, waving his hand in dismissal.

Chikara narrows his eyes at him. Damn him for being so perceptive,Ryuu thinks.

“You okay?” he asks. “You keep stuttering.”

Ryuu shakes his head, trying to calm his fluttering heart. “All good!” he says cheerfully, flashing a thumbs up as he scrambles for an excuse. “I think I just need to run, or something. A lot of pent up energy.”

Chikara continues to survey him carefully, but eventually shrugs.

“Alright,” he relents. “I’ll make dinner tonight, I guess, so be back in like an hour or so?”

Ryuu nods, getting out of his bed and leaving the room. He walks down to his bedroom in confusion. With how fast his heart is still beating, maybe he does need to take a run.

As the semester goes on, Ryuu realizes that he’s not sure he can keep up the “pretend” part of being Chikara’s pretend boyfriend.

Being around Chikara feels like so much more than how they were before this entire thing started.

Somehow, Chikara isn’t Chikara anymore—he’s Chika. Mrs. Ennoshita isAuntie and Mr. Ennoshita is Uncle. Ryuu even knows the names of Chikara’s aunties now.

And he’s not just affectionate whenever he has to FaceTime Chikara’s family anymore—he’s affectionate all the time now. When they’re alone together, sitting side-by-side eating take-out on their ratty couch, Ryuu wants to snuggle closer and lean his head on Chikara’s shoulder. When Chikara smiles—excited about a new movie, or happy that he impressed his thesis advisor, or laughing at one of Ryuu’s dumb jokes—Ryuu has the urge to kiss him.

Ryuunosuke knows he wears his heart on his sleeve, but he keeps these feelings close to his chest. It’s just until the end of the semester anyway, he tries to remind himself. After that, this entire thing will be over and the feelings will go away.

(What scares Ryuu the most, late at night when he’s able to admit it to himself, is that he doesn’t actually want that to happen.)

They’re drunk one night after hitting too many karaoke bars. Ryuu honestly lost count how many places they hopped, just knows that their friends left like an hour ago and that Chikara has a pretty, red glow on his face, laughing in Ryuu’s arms after they leave another bar. They step onto what he hopes is the right bus home, pointedly ignoring the agitated bus driver when they take their seats at the back.

“I can’t believe you convinced that one girl you were actuallya director!” Ryuu howls, clutching his belly. “Do you still have her card?”

Chikara giggles, shaking his head. “Oh jeez, no. I think I lost it after she left?”

Ryuu erupts in another belly laugh. He still has an arm clutching Chikara, and Ryuu pulls him even closer. Chikara smells like sweat, and beer, and a bit like the perfume of that poor girl they duped, but mostly he smells like comfort. Familiarity.

Chikara doesn’t hesitate to lean on his shoulder as they both continue to laugh. Ryuu feels warmth flooding his chest, so unlike the burn of the shots they had hours earlier.

Their drunk giggles eventually quiet after a few stops, along with the glares of other passengers trying to peacefully ride the bus. They talk about a lot of things on the way home: a little about where their other friends went (“Another bar?” “Nah, I think Noya said something about meeting Asahi-san?”), a little bit about the raging hangover they’ll have (“We’re fucked, bro.” “God, I know.”), but mostly about how much fun they had that night.

They hop off the bus at the last stop, exactly half a block from where their apartment is. Chikara, definitely more of a lightweight than Ryuunosuke, predictably needs his help once they step out. Halfway down the sidewalk, Ryuu is practically carrying Chikara’s weight on his shoulder.

“Piggyback me, T’naka,” Chikara slurs.

“What?!” Ryuu suddenly feels a lot more sober than he actually is.

“Can’t walk an’more,” Chikara mumbles into his shoulder. “Carry me home.”

He sounds so sleepy and adorable that Ryuu doesn’t bother hesitating. He slings Chikara onto his back, making sure that he has a steady hold on the other boy before he walks up the steps to their building.

“Thanks for t’night, Ryuu,” Chikara whispers once they finally make it to the elevator. “Had fun.”

“That’s good.” Ryuu smiles. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself—you need to learn to loosen up more, Chika.”

Chikara hums. Ryuu’s stepping out of the elevator when he continues, “‘Like when you call me that.”

“Hm?”

Ryuu’s wrestled the keys out of his pocket, finally inside their apartment and making his way to dump his very heavyfriend into bed when Chikara says, “When you call me ‘Chika’. Sounds like ‘m actually your boyfriend.”

Oh.

Ryuu tries to brush it off, carefully placing Chikara onto his mattress.

“We are though, aren’t we? Gotta ham it up for your parents and everything,” he says playfully, grabbing the trash bin from under Chikara’s table and placing it next to the bed. He’ll be thankful for that in the morning.

“I mean, f’real,” Chikara mumbles, snuggling his sheets. “Wanna be your boyfriend for real, not just ‘cause I made Mom think’so.”

Ryuu swallows, sure that the blush on his cheeks isn’t just because he’s drunk. He stands still as he watches Chikara settle into bed, unsure what to say.

When Chikara’s breathing evens out, and because Ryuu thinks he’s definitely asleep, he whispers, “I wish we were boyfriends for real, too.”

Before he loses the last of his liquid courage, Ryuu bends down, pressing his lips softly against Chikara’s forehead. He lingers, pecking one more kiss to Chikara’s hair before quietly leaving the room.

They’re right about the hangover. The next morning, Ryuu wakes up to the sound of Chikara throwing up down the hall. The noise irritates his awful headache, and he throws an arm over his face. His stomach seems relatively okay (he actually remembered to drink water throughout the night, thank goodness), but the pounding in his head is far from pleasant.

Eventually he hears the faucet running in the bathroom, followed by the closing of a door, and Ryuu figures that he’s free to use the toilet. He climbs out of bed, swaying a little on his feet but otherwise steady, and pads down the hallway to take a piss. After washing his hands and splashing some water on his face, he makes his way to Chikara’s room, whose head is buried under every single pillow he owns.

“Want pain meds?”

“Yes, please.”

“Coffee?”

“Mmmno, need water.”

“Okay. Be back in five.”

As Ryuu rummages through the cupboards for the Ibuprofen, he remembers what happened last night.

Wanna be your boyfriend for real.

I wish we were boyfriends for real, too.

He swallows thickly. How much does Chikara remember?

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears the other boy groaning down the hall. Ryuu dumps two Ibuprofen tablets in his hand, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge before making his way back to Chikara’s room.

“Hey,” he says softly, “can you get up? I got meds and a water bottle.”

Chikara slowly rises from under his pillows, moving as sluggish as a zombie. When he finally sits up, he looks like shit: face crumpled in a pained expression, hair sticking up every direction, lips cracked and dry.

“Here,” Ryuu says, passing the water and tablets. Chikara takes them with heavy hands, slapping the Ibuprofen into his mouth and gulping down the water so haphazardly that it leaks down his chin.

“You’re a life saver, Ryuu,” Chikara mumbles as he closes the water bottle.

“Nah, just less hungover than you, Chika.” Ryuu grabs the drink, placing it on the Chikara’s table. He then scratches the back of his head, thinking about the night before. “Hey, uh,” he hesitates, “do you... remember? Anything? From last night?”

Chikara whines a little in his throat. It’s clear on his face that recalling anything beyond waking up half an hour ago proves difficult for him.

“Uhhh,” he drawls, “not really? Karaoke? Bars? We split up at like 1am, I think.”

Ryuu purses his lips. “You don’t remember coming home?”

Chikara hums, sinking back into bed. “We got on the bus. That’s it, really.”

“Yeah, well, we made it back.” He ends the sentence with a light chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll, uh, make food. You can try sleeping more, if you want, Chika.”

The other boy pulls the sheets over him, replying with a hum. When he starts to snore, Ryuu quietly leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Chikara doesn’t remember anything after getting on the bus. He probably never realized he confessed to Ryuu.

On the other side of the door, Ryuu breathes a sigh—he’s not sure if it’s in relief or regret.

Hours, days, weeks later, whenever Ryuu brings up that night, Chikara admits that he really doesn’t remember a lot aside from the bus ride home, and Ryuu realizes that he’s disappointed every time he asks.

The end of Chikara’s semester comes way too quickly.

Ryuu’s standing in the kitchen one afternoon, trying to decide what to eat when Chikara breaks the news.

“I told my parents we broke up,” he announces simply. “Said that our schedules got too busy and we couldn’t handle it.”

“Oh.”

Ryuu rubs the back of his neck. He wasn’t expecting that at allwhen he heard Chikara on the phone.

“What’d they say?” he asks.

“Mom’s sad.” Chikara shrugs. “Dad was at work so she’s gonna tell him later.”

“She say anything about us still being roommates?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “She’s worried that it’ll be too much for us, but I told her that we’d be fine. I mean, she didn’t know, but we were just pretending, right?”

Ryuu nods. Right, pretending.

“Um, I guess I gotta back off from the boyfriend stuff then, huh?” He tries not to sound too disappointed—this was all it was going to be, after all.

“Yeah,” Chikara repeats, looking away. “Thanks for helping out, Tanaka.”

Ryuu swallows, pressing his lips together. “Mm,” he says, “no worries, man.”

They stand together in awkward silence before Chikara says, “I’ve gotta go. Writing session.” He makes his way to the door, looking over his shoulder to wave goodbye. “I’ll see you later?”

Ryuu nods, and Chikara leaves. He looks back to the open cabinets and realizes he’s not hungry anymore.

Things are unbelievably awkward after they “break up”. Ryuu isn’t sure how affectionate to be around Chikara anymore, doesn’t remember what boundaries they had before things became so complicated.

He’s also pretty sure that Chikara’s avoiding him, spending more time at school or with his thesis advisor, planning around Ryuu’s work schedule so they cross paths as little as possible in their apartment.

When they do see each other, they don’t talk as much. Their conversations are stilted, tense. Sometimes it’s because Chikara’s parents want to know what’s going on with Ryuu, but they can’t, because he and Chikara aren’t dating anymore. Chikara stops taking his parents’ calls after it happens a fourth time, and Ryuu hears him make a weak excuse about being busy since the classes are wrapping up. Ryuu knows that’s not true, because Chikara was working himself to the bone in order to take things easy at the end of the semester, but he walks away from where he was eavesdropping at Chikara’s door. It’s not his place to tell Auntie the truth.

He never did that in the first place.

Ryuu doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to fix things.

Chikara goes home for Golden Week. Ryuu has plans to return home too, visit his sister and parents, but he has to leave later than Chikara because of work.

They’ve been “broken up” for a little over three weeks now.

Ryuu notices how much quieter it is without Chikara around. Chikara isn’t even the loud one between the two of them, but Ryuu misses him when he’s not there. He misses the footsteps of Chikara pacing in his room, the mumbling he does under his breath when he really gets into his writing, how he calls Ryuu’s name because Ryuu forgot to take out the trash (again).

Chikara’s gone now, but Ryuu realizes he’s missed him for much longer than the morning he left for Miyagi.

He calls up his sister, ready to tell her that he’s coming home a few days earlier than expected.

Knock knock knock.

“Ryuu-kun?” Auntie says, opening the door. “Why are you here? Chikara isn’t –”

“Auntie,” he says politely, “I have to tell you something.”

“That you and my son never actually dated?”

“Me and Chikara never—wait,” he pauses, Auntie’s words finally registering. “You knew?”

She sighs, waving him in. “Come inside, Ryuu-kun.”

They make their way to the kitchen, where Ryuu takes the same seat he did months ago when he and Chikara had dinner with his parents.

“I had a feeling you two were never really involved,” Auntie says with a sad smile. “Chikara is a horrible liar, and you’re not really that much better, Ryuu-kun.” She looks at him sheepishly. “No offense.”

Ryuu sighs, but smiles back. “I know.”

“I had a feeling Chikara was hiding something from me, but I convinced myself that you two were happy together every time I called.” She shrugs. “He told me the truth when he came home earlier this week.”

“I’m sorry, Auntie.”

“Oh, Ryuu-kun, it’s okay,” she says.

He looks at her with confusion—how could any of this be okay? They both lied to her, to Uncle, to so many people, for months. And now that it’s all over things are so messed up.

“I could be angrier, but mostly I wish Chikara didn’t think he had to pretend for me—I just want him to be happy,” she explains. “I think he’s more upset with himself that he got you tangled up in this actually. He’s been really quiet since you two ‘broke up’.” She uses finger quotes for emphasis. He nods—he knows how quiet Chikara’s been.

“Auntie,” he says softly, “I know this ended up really, reallybad but now I actually, truly love your son. Can you please give me—us—a second chance?”

She reaches out, patting his hand softly where it lays on the table. He looks at their hands, then back at her. Auntie smiles at him kindly.

“Ryuu, I don’t think you even need to ask.”

He finds Chikara at a park nearby, sitting alone on a bench, exactly where Auntie told Ryuu he’d be.

“Chika!”

The other boy turns around, frowning. “Ryuu?”

Ryuu jogs over, sitting in the empty space next to him.

“What are you doing here?” Chikara asks, brows furrowed in obvious confusion. “I thought you weren’t leaving for –”

Ryuu cuts him off with a kiss. Chikara gasps a little before sinking into it, but when he does Ryuu relaxes. He deepens the kiss, hands coming up to cup Chikara’s cheeks gently. Chikara’s lips are soft against his, and when he sighs Ryuu pushes back in for more.

They part for air, and Ryuu huffs a soft chuckle. “I wanted to do that forever.”

Chikara backs up, and Ryuu immediately misses the warmth. “What?”

Ryuu blushes, dropping his hands from Chikara’s face to hold the other boy’s hands.

“I’ve liked you a long time, Chika,” he confesses quietly. He plays with Chikara’s fingers, pursing his lips. “I thought you might’ve liked me too, when we got plastered after karaoke –”

“That –” Chikara shakes his head. “When I said I wanted us to be boyfriends—that was real?” Ryuu nods, and Chikara groans, hanging his head. “Oh god.”

“Wait,” Ryuu interrupts, “so you remember that night?”

“I thought my hangover was making things up,” Chikara says, face turning redder with each word. “It felt like a dream, when you kissed me.”

Now Ryuu flushes red. “You were awakewhen I did that?!”

Chikara looks up at him with a shy smile. “I was almost asleep, but... yeah. I know you kissed me on the head. Twice.”

“Chikara!” he whines, shoving the other boy’s shoulder lightly. “You kept telling me that you only remembered going home on the bus!”

“I said it felt like a dream!” Chikara defends. “I didn’t realize it was real, telling you that I want to be your boyfriend.”

Despite it all, Ryuu grins, beaming wide.

“You-you still wanna be my boyfriend?” he says, unable to hide the giddiness in his voice.

Chikara shrugs, shoulders hunching self-consciously. “Well, yeah.”

Ryuu leans forward again, pressing another kiss to Chikara’s lips. He can feel the other boy smiling into the kiss, and he can’t help but grin back.

When they pull apart, Ryuu says, “I wanna be your boyfriend too.”

They grin at each other while Ryuu caresses Chikara’s cheek.

Then something suddenly dawns on Chikara. He gasps, eyes wide when he says, “Oh god, Mom’s never going to let me live this down.”

Ryuu laughs. “Neither will I, Chika,” he snickers. “You put me through hell for months!”

Chikara shoves his head, and Ryuu pokes him back, and eventually the two of them are roughhousing like a bunch of teenagers until Ryuu falls off the bench, pulling Chikara down with him. They lie on the ground, giggling at each other before falling into another kiss.

#ennotana #tanaenno #tanaka ryuunosuke #ennoshita chikara #haikyuu #hq!!#haikyuu!!#ryuunosuke tanaka #chikara ennoshita #karasuno #nanowrimo 2018 #week 4 #au #tropes #canon compliant #fake dating #slash #jercy's fic tag

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yoolee · 7 years

Text

SLBP KAI REINCARNATIONS (with a Yukimura x MC pairing)

Shingen & Kansuke

Shingen remembers first. He’s in the military, and there’s a moment, when he’s leading his men (and women!) that he just knows. It’s as natural and comfortable as putting on a favorite piece of clothing – the transition between not remembering and carrying all of the memories is effortless.

(Not without some pain over things left undone and promises unkept, but, effortless)

First thing he does is start seeking out the others. Kai was always, ever Kai because of the people who were a part of it, and Shingen was who he was because of the people who surrounded him, he has as much a duty to them in this life as the last.

Kansuke is next! Medical researcher, life has always felt a bit…lacking, like he moves through a fog.

Fog finally, finally lifts when Shingen walks into his lab, grinning.

Mr Emotionless DEFINITELY CRIES bet me on this

Anyway, Shingen finishes his service and starts a business, because there are new ways to lead, and this offers him a better opportunity to get out and about and find everyone.

Yukimura

Like most of the fandom I am 100% onboard with professional athlete!Yukimura

Also possibly went into military after high school, because—not that he isn’t smart, he just has too much energy to sit in lectures and would rather do.

But then, A SPORT, of some kind (I saw judo as a recommendation, yes, good) and like, probably an Olympian because bringing HONOR and GLORY to his country is super Yukimura

Anyway Shingen sponsors him

And, Yukimura doesn’t remember just yet.

Shingen is quietly okay with that – Yukimura wouldn’t be Yukimura if he weren’t a little bit slow ^^;;

But really a big part of it is that he’s very much an in-the-moment person and he always has been, so while other characters grapple with a kind of ‘something is missing’ he just charges on ahead instead of lingering.

Saizo & Sasuke & MC

Saizo hasn’t always remembered, but has always known, to some extent.

Knowing makes him pay attention to things, so he’s paying attention when a screaming bundle is tossed into his arms and that’s how he knows the kid’s name is Sasuke.

Sasuke grows up remembering. Having a sort of double-set of memories is completely normal for him because it’s what he’s always known. He doesn’t talk about it much because he learns pretty early that it makes him different from other kids, who don’t have the same understanding of war and battle and loss that he does.

(But that means they also don’t have the same understanding of brotherhood, and heart, and strength)

Saizo remembers when he finds MC

But like, Saizo is literally the biggest MCxYukimura shipper out there and it’s just not right to reveal himself before Yukimura can

So he just keeps an eye out, to make sure she’s okay and well for when Yukimura shows up.

This includes sabotaging literally every single person who expresses a vague interest in her, because no, she is supposed to be with Yukimura thank you very much.

(He is not worried about Yukimura ending up with someone else – he is pretty confident that regardless of how many lifetimes he has lived since their shared one that in none of them did Yukimura learn to talk to a woman well enough to land a girlfriend - or boyfriend, or anything requiring romance in general)

Anyway, yes, sabotaging love interests becomes like a part time hobby (what is his real job the world will never know, all anyone knows is he always seems to have the cash he needs and a lot of free time)

(Mysteriously, every year during Sasuke’s Career Day at school there is some kind of incident before it’s Saizo’s turn – fire alarms, freak storms, mass food poisoning, bathrooms flooding, a swarming flock of crows in the gym…Sasuke stops asking him to come)

ANYWAY yes, sabotage – which he remembers, with relish, but with a few new modern skills to add to the mix. Phone calls with unfortunate test results, emails that look like they come from people who didn’t send them, photoshop, social engineering to get Instagram passwords, just generally being sneaky enough to get close and steal wallets during date night dinners, etc. etc.

Sasuke, who remembers too, and is incensed that MC would be on a date with someone who isn’t Lord Yukimura, definitely gets in on this too; at least once he plays the part of neglected love child with a particularly stubborn suitor.

Reunion

Eventually, REUNION. YAY.

All of Yukimura’s teammates are like o.o;;

Saizo’s sabotage habits die hard – if one of them goes to approach MC, they’re going to trip. You know. Accidentally.

MC definitely figures out what he’s been doing but can never ACTUALLY figure out how or the full extent

Yukimura definitely sobs when he sees Shingen next. He’s so sorry he didn’t remember sooner.

Shingen is like, nah, it’s all good, just because my face isn’t pretty enough to jog your noggin

“NO MILORD YOUR FACE IS BEAUTIFUL”

(The following is @han-pan’s fault <3)

(this of course happens full volume in the middle of filming a sports drink commercial that Takeda Corp is sponsoring)

(Advertisers are like “...well we were gonna go the guy-flirts-with-a-pretty-girl-route for this slot, but he isn’t very good at it and maybe this is why HEY SHINGEN you wanna be in this commercial too”)

(And he’s down for whatever so sure, hey Yukimura, remember how I used to try and teach you things like this--*click click* camera shutters)

(And that’s how the sports drink craze swept the nation because have you seen those billboards omggg)

(MC is just like, “wow you both look so muscle-y”)

(Saizo is like “...did you at least get free samples?”)

Future State

You know that like, no matter where Yukimura/MC live and no matter what the premium on space is, there is always, always a bedroom for Saizo (and by extension, Sasuke)

(Yes he and Sasuke have their own place too)

(But Saizo is a cat, okay. He comes, basks in their sunny little patch for awhile, and then is like ‘yeah okay you two are too saccharine, I’m out’ and he’s gone for a week or three.)

“Hey mom hey dad, why does uncle Saizo he get that room?” “It has the best roof access.” “…we live on the 14th floor of 23…?”

Eventually the kids don’t question it either

Unless it’s to summon him, because you know he just happens to show up any time they ask questions that Yukimura and MC would struggle to answer

Sasuke babysits all the time

Okay but also please imagine, years down the road, Yukimura being concerned that Saizo hasn’t given late-teenage Sasuke Enough Information about Things in Life, and he’s stuttering and blushing and stumbling trying to express this (and Saizo is like, little lord, you have four kids, shouldn’t you maybe not be embarrassed by this still) and meanwhile Sasuke pokes his head in like ‘yeah no don’t worry I read all of Sensei’s guides, I know what I’m doing’ and everyone is HORRIFIED (even Saizo. A little. But also a little proud, probably).

AND FOR @quincette

Echigo

Fashion mogul Kenshin is not a fan of Corporate Meetings they are full of fuddy-duddies and they are dreadfully dull

So he is staring out the window (OF COURSE)

And look they are putting up a new billboard

AND ~GASP~ WHAT IS THIS

IT IS HIS FLUFFY TIGER (and Yukimura, BUT)

And Ooooh he wants to pose in a pretty billboard photoshoot tooooo

Kanetsugu is like wait--what? No, no where are you going get back here WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A MEETING

But of course everyone dutifully follows him out and Kanetsugu is out of luck

Kageie is like 100% willing to pose in this because why not

Yoshichi is SO EXCITED like YEAH let’s DO this photoshoot

Kagetsugu is trying to Not Draw Attention because he knows exactly how pretty he is, thanks, and doesn’t really like playing dress up, which invariably happens when you work for a clothing company and have his pretty face and features, thanks.

(MC is there catering, makes small talk with Kagetsugu and he gets all embarrassed and blushy when she just assumes he’s one of the models)

Hotaru is just wandering around the photoshoot, playing with things he finds, eventually ends up in the rafters playing with the umbrella lighting

He probably accidentally(?) releases the rain curtain in the middle of the shoot because he’s just playing with stuff

So now you have a lovely, rain-soaked Kagieie and Kenshin billboard advertisement for his clothes

(Kanetsugu wonders why it’s so effective - what about wet clothes is really so appealing? Has no one ever had wet socks around here?)

But, of course, it drives sales up like woah.

ANYWAY so begins the Great Billboard Wars of 2017

Also including behind the scenes video adverts, a few magazine spreads, etc & so forth

(Which ultimately culminates in a Shingen+Kenshin photoshoot that sends both of their company stock shares through the roof)

(Also causes a sharp and immediate uptick in hospitalizations due to fainting and blood loss across the country)

(Kanetsugu is just like *sigh* we are a clothing company, this was a clothing ad did you two forget the clothes?)

(It’s probably an underwear ad. Kenshin “Always figured you of more of a boxers man,” Shingen: “Well actually I usually just go com--” Kansuke: “Harunobu, no.”

I live for fluffy reincarnation AUs. Happy families. Happy families everywhere.

More of Lee’s rambles (or click the link in my profile description)

#slbp #slbp modern au #slbp modern headcanon #slbp headcanons #slbp kai #rambles

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