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fiction-in-my-blood · 3 years

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Switching Sides: Part 15 (HLITF)

if anyone possibly wants to get on a tag list I’d be happy to make one

👉@theshove 👈

👉@kamyru 👈

If you wanna catch up, Part 14 is right here! Happy reading :)

And I just want to thank everyone that’s been consistently reading this fic, I know it’s a slow burn but I think it’ll be worth it :D

Premise: Growing up in a life of crime in a Japanese mafia, Atsuko Motomori has seen enough injustice to last her a lifetime. To try and give back to the universe her family has taken so much from, she dreams of being a detective from a young age. Her twin, sharing her disgust for her father and many uncles, just wants an ordinary life away from the crime, paing and suffering. Instead, she wants to be in the spotlight with the soft notes she makes with her cello. In their escape of 2015, on their coming of age birthday, they must split ways, never to be together ever again. If one was found, they didn’t want the other dragged down with them. Atsuko, having changed her name and appearance as best she can without a scalpel, sets off to start her life of car chases and arrests.

Four years in a seemingly dead-end police station in the middle of nowhere, being passed over time after time for promotion, Atsuko finally gets a shot at her dream, having been sent to an academy for the best candidates in the country by her boss who had always kept an eye out for her. After discovering her boss may have made her bite off more than she could chew, Atsuko must become the slave of a dominating instructor!? Who so just happens to be the captain of the most famous police unit in Japan? Not to mention a total knockout! Will Atsuko finally achieve her dream? Or will her new instructor put her through the wringer?

Warnings: Language, Reference to sexual activity, Forceful nature, Abuse, Kidnapping, Torture.

~~~~~~

Early the next morning, I dressed in my loungewear to go to Juna's apartment. She had an outfit of her's waiting for me; I didn't own anything pink like the dress code she wanted. Grabbing a quick bite from the canteen and a coffee, as I have now remembered the difference between tea, I get the train to her apartment.

"Katsumi! You're here!" Juna bounced towards me, or as best she could under the weight of her almost grown baby, and stole the cake box I was balancing in one hand, holding my bag to my side with the other.

"Sorry I'm late, the metro was hectic." I sighed, kicking off my shoes as she shuffled back to the kitchen counter. There, I saw Kanto hurriedly putting up bunting. When he saw me, he directed his gaze to the space under the stairs where a set of drawers sat. Curiously, I stepped towards it, opening the top draw while Juna was distracted and found the ring I wanted. Pulling it out, I slipped it into a pocket in my bag.

"Your dress is in the bathroom if you wanna change!" Juna called over her shoulder as she pulled a box of strawberries out of the fridge, planning to chop them up.

"Sure thing!" I called back, knowing my way around the apartment since I lived here for months.

The dress in question was somewhat short and pastel pink. There was an upside-down triangle cut out of the back, the top half was tight and anything below the top of my hips was flowing. It was surprisingly comfortable, even if I felt like walking cotton candy.

"Told ya you'd like it!" Juna squealed in joy when she saw me emerge with a light blush on my face.

"It's not horrific." I pouted and went to help decorate the small balcony outside to escape her complimentary pestering.

~~~~~~

Once the arrival time for the party came around, more and more people started showing up. I didn't even think to ask my sister how many people were coming, but I sure as hell didn't think it would be this many people. There were so many, I was getting a little warm and the number of times I had to dart out of the way, getting my earring caught in my hair in the mad rush, I decided to put it up. I was bestowed with the job of answering the door so, when it rang again, I jumped up with a sigh. Because I was so used to seeing faces I didn't know, having everyone comment on how alike my twin and I looked, I was shocked when all the instructors showed up on the other side.

"In-Instructors, you made it?" I blushed when I saw them all in their casual clothes, instantly anxious when I remembered the outfit I was wearing. They all obeyed Juna's wish of them wearing pink or blue, all of varying degrees of severity, except for one. Can you guess who it was?

"Com... Come in. You can leave your shoes here." When I realised I had been staring, I jumped out the way to let them in. ‘God, Katsumi. Keep your cool!’ I internally screamed as I watched them filter in. Then, I directed them to the food when Juna finally approached us.

"Detectives, I'm so glad you could make it! I hope you enjoy yourselves. There's beer in the fridge, so have at it. There's plenty to go around!" Seemingly much more used to the instructors than I am, or she's just more sociable, Juna had a bright smile on her face. "Detective Kaga, you're not wearing blue." She frowned at the one person in the room not giving in her wishes.

"Juna, please." I begged her not to embarrass me as Kaga 'tsk'ed to himself. Then, he extended his hand to her, which held a paper bag. She took it and looked in to find a gift.

"Kaga, this is so cute! Look at it, Katsu." She squealed at the small bear with beady black eyes. It was kinda adorable and I blushed at the fact my sternly faced mentor had gifted it. The tag still attached to it said it was a nanny cam. My embarrassed and confused gaze fell to him and he sneered.

"My niece liked it."

‘Is he... pouting?’ It was almost too strange to tell with the faint blush on his face. ‘Is he already drunk? Wait! He has a niece?’ My blush deepened as I imagine how Kaga might act with a child to know her so much to know her favourite toy.

“Did none of your friends come?” Soma interjected my thoughts from beside me, seeing as Juna had gone to Kanto in the kitchen. I almost jumped out of my skin, but only because I was scared he could read my mind.

“Oh, no. No they… They were busy.” I quickly made up a pathetic lie, not wanting to throw Naruko under the for being afraid of the instructors. “Anyway, can I get you guys any drinks? Like Juna said, we’ve got beer, soda, water?” I listed off a few options so I could just escape this cluster of men, and even more people started to swarm us at their appearance.

“How does Juna know such good looking, young men?” A very forward older woman instantly clutched Instructor Goto’s arm, either drunk or that was just her rich nature. I instantly started panicking again.

“U-Um, Miss, they’re my bosses. Please… Please let go of him.” I was frantic as the instructor looked increasingly uncomfortable because of her flirtations. Almost everyone here was Juna’s work friends or spouses of, so they were all high standing members of society, not anyone I ever expected to mingle with.

When the woman just wouldn’t let go of him, I decided it was time to amp it up a gear. “Actually, I think your husband was talking to the composer’s daughter by the bathroom.” I gestured to an older man and a girl around my age talking up a storm on the other side of the spacious room, and the woman almost simultaneously stormed over.

After profusely apologising to Goto for what he already had to go through after just arriving, with the instructors still around us, Shinonone expressed how shocked he was that I could diffuse the situation somewhat quickly.

“I used to work in a club downtown. It was part of my job to get a feel for relationships in the room. O-Of course, you saw me working.” I was almost sweating with how nervous I was, remembering how rude I was to the instructor when he didn’t even know it was me at the time. Ayumu smirked at the memory of the interaction, and probably what I was wearing then too.

Luckily, Juna called me away to help her with something before I could be teased further.

~~~~~~

Later on in the party, I felt the need to step outside and take a breather, so I headed to the balcony and was surprised to find no one there. It was spring, the weather; surprisingly warm, and the flowers Kanto had been growing for Juna were in full bloom.

With my elbows resting on the railing, I suddenly realised what Kaga being here means. "I passed." I gasped, my heart filling with pride and doing a little dance to try and expel my joy. A rush of relief flooded over me and I don't think I've been happier than that moment. Not just relieved, but happy.

"It's been a while since I've seen that dance." A man's voice spoke up behind me and I turned in curiosity. For a moment, I truly believed it was one of my captors, but my vision quickly corrected it to Noburu. My heart raced as I saw him standing in the doorway, eyes wide. I hadn't seen him in a month. I was never told of him visiting. I was a little angry, he hadn't even texted me. But, above all else, I was scared. He sent alarm bells ringing in my head as if he really was the captor that fed me. That stood by and watched as I deteriorated into a heap of weeping bruises.

"No...Noburu. What are you doing here?" I panicked, stepping back and finding the railing block me from going over the edge. In an instant he was in front of me, holding my face as tears grew in my eyes.

"I missed you so much. I went to visit but you freaked out. I was so worried." His face was so close all I could see was him as he held my cheeks, his fingers extending into my hair, which I had let down again. I struggled, the image of that man seared in my brain.

When he saw me trying to get away, he crashed his lips on mine, taking my breath and any words I wanted to say to reject him. I tried to tug on the hands that kept me in place, but he wouldn't let go. His grip was vice-like. When he parted his lips to breath, I was able to whimper out "stop".

After I said that, he went to kiss me again, but he was pulled off me by someone yanking on his collar. There, holding the bewildered Noburu, was Kaga, rage painting his face. Embarrassed and afraid, I covered my mouth to hide my tears and sobs, darting by them, careful not to fall in my short heels as my legs shook.

~~~~~~

Bored out of my mind with all the aristocratic assholes Katsumi's sister was friends with, I decided to find the servant I found so fun to tease. My gaze flew around the room to find women surrounding most of the men from the PSD, except Goto who looked as bored as I was. Then, my gaze found the glass balcony doors and the woman I'm looking for. She was talking to a man, someone who looked dishevelled and not belonging to this group of people. Then, I noticed the tremble in her lip and her wide, astonished eyes watering out of... fear? I decided to head over and check if everything was alright.

When I opened the door, the man pounced on Katsumi, holding her face as he kissed her. A feeling in my stomach lit up my jealousy and anger as I watched them, but Katsumi seemed to be responding. I couldn't really tell when his hands were covering most of her face and his body was covering the rest of her.

As I turned to leave, I heard a low, high-pitched sound.

"Stop."

I spun around in a second, storming forward and gripping the back of the man's collar before yanking him off, possibly choking him in the process. I glared at him before checking to see if Katsumi was okay. Tears were falling down her face and the lipgloss she had on was smudged. Her hair was a mess and her knees were cowering a little. When she noticed what happened, her hand flew to her face and she ran back inside.

"Dude, what the hell?" The man who assaulted her frowned and my enraged glare returned to him. That was when I noticed it was the guy Katsumi used to work with at that club. I remembered watching her bend over the bar to talk to him, noticing how high her dress rode up her thighs, just shy of flashing everyone there. I growedl, remembering how much trust she must have had to talk to him the way Ayumu said she did.

"Get out or I concave your face." I threatened, dropping his collar. He was angry at first but when he saw how likely it was for me to do it, he ran to the front door.

~~~~~~

Stepping out of the bathroom, having cleaned myself up and calmed myself down enough to stop crying, I got to work; cleaning up the bottles and cans surrounding the room- mainly to distract myself. The party was still in full swing and I didn't want to ruin my sister's special moment. I could suck it up for now. All I wanted was for Noburu to be gone.

"Hey, idiot." A quiet voice erupted from behind me as I grabbed a few glass bottles from the counter in the kitchen, which was pretty vacant. I quickly recognised it at Kaga.

"I don't want to talk about it," I grumbled, not caring who he was in that moment.

"I kicked him out." He announced.

‘At least that's a relief.’ I sighed, feeling my tears return as I remembered how he had touched me. I trusted him. If he knew I had a breakdown the last time I had seen him, why would he still do that?

"Okay. I still don't want to talk about it." I complained, moving back and forth from the bin and the sink with trash and dishes to clean up later.

"Katsumi," Kaga said, but I ignored him, no matter how much him saying my name made my heart flutter. "Hey, moron." He grabbed my wrist as I dropped a few wooden skewers into the trash and spun me to see him.

"I'm not going to talk about it because I’ll cry. I'm not going to cry at my sister's baby shower." I gritted my teeth, returning his stern glare to try and make myself feel tougher.

"Why are you crying then?" He smirked and I sneered, noticing the wet drop roll down my cheek. I rushed to catch it with my unclaimed hand.

"He looks like one of them. Or he reminds me, anyway." I pouted, looking away from my instructor as he continued to hold my wrist. I'm sure he could feel my pulse race as my fear returned, mixed with the excitement of how close he was. I struggled to control my emotions when his grip tightened. I wasn’t intimidated. It was almost comforting, encouraging me to spill my guts right there in my sister's kitchen.

Suddenly, I was pulled towards him and enveloped in warmth and his scent. Slightly smokey, although whatever cologne he used did a good job of covering it up. I tried to look up from the chest I was being pushed against, but his hand settling on my head forced my gaze forward. My heart was pumping blood to my cheeks at an alarming rate and it was so loud I couldn't hear his. The pent up frustration I felt towards Noburu broke free from the weak dams I put up and my tears fell fast. My fist clenched on Kaga’s chest, angry that I had let someone I hardly knew so close. Before, I would have never gone out 'dates' with someone I enjoyed the company of- although I didn't really think of them in that way. I would have closed myself in my home, trying to keep to myself, not wanting to grow connections in case my father found me and I would have to leave everyone I had grown to love. It made it harder to justify how much safer I and those people would be if I left. I was mad at myself for letting go.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat in the doorway of the kitchen. I darted back, making sure to turn my back to wipe my eyes before turning back to cleaning, pretending like nothing had happened. "Juna wants to cut the cake." It was Ayumu who spoke up, walking over to the fridge, between me and Kaga. Too afraid to talk in case my voice wavered, I nodded and walked out the room, heading to the table everyone was surrounding.

~~~~~~

The party pretty much drew to a close after the gender reveal. It's a girl, but no one's surprised. Juna had been going on about it for weeks. Even before they could tell what the gender was.

"I'm gonna have a little Katsu of my own!" Juna cried with joy as she sat in front of the pile of gifts in front of her.

"At least give her a similar name. It'll be confusing if you give her the same as mine." I complained, picking up the wrapping paper she threw around the room. Thanks to my silent moment with Kaga, I was able to calm down enough to act normal for the rest of the party. All the instructors had gone home and it was just us and Kanto.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kanto asked as I walked into the kitchen with a trash bag in hand. He was cleaning the dishes while Juna enjoyed herself to her heart's content. I nodded, hoping I wasn't giving any signals that said otherwise.

"Well... I, um... I saw Noburu earlier." His voice was low, scared that if he told me he'd set me off again. I froze mid-way picking up the trash and recovered as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, he... He kissed me." My own voice was also low, afraid that if I said it aloud it would cement the end of our friendship. Kanto spun around to look at me and I tried to stop frowning. "It's fine... Kaga got him off me before I could spiral." I bit my lip, continuing my cleaning to distract myself.

"I'm sorry." Is all I hear Kanto mumble as I escape the room.

~~~~~~

That night, I returned to the dorm but found that I didn't want to sleep yet. My mind was racing, the ring my mother left for us in my fingertips as I sat on my couch. I looked for an engraving in the inside of the band. Nothing. The clear crystal, which I'm sure was a diamond; too small for me to tell if there was anything odd going on. There were several smaller ones dotted around it.

"Could it be to do with the make? Well, it's not like I can tell." I sighed. I hardly wore jewellery anyway. I was hopeless trying to find clues. "Maybe the detectives on the case discovered something?" I got up and made my way to one of the common rooms to use a computer.

It was the dead of night, so silent I thought I might have gone deaf. Luckily, the hallway lights were always on. Pulling out a chair, I brought the file up before I even sit down. The notes say that they found wording embedded in the jewels. Nano-sized. But they couldn't make any sense of it.

"Juno charges towards Juna, aiming for Katsu."

‘Well, that's not cryptic all.’ I sighed, slightly stunned to find both my and my sister's names. I decided my best bet would be to look up the meaning behind our names.

‘As a boy's name, Katsu means victory. Juna means woods and south. Could there be a battle in the woods or something?’ I frowned my brows, feeling wildly out of my depths and kind of silly for looking such things up on a school computer. Looking up the address of the murder, I looked at Google Maps because I knew I wouldn't be able to travel anywhere anytime soon. I dragged the picture south as far as I could, but nothing caught my eye.

The woman murdered, my mother's friend, it seemed, was found in a lake just outside Tokyo. Surrounded by woods.

"Oh?" I gasped when I s awthat there were cabins for sale in those same woods. They had been around for years, it seemed, and a community had been made there. With a small supermarket and diners, it looked like a 20 person village.

"Could she..?" I led off, wondering if my mother could have moved there to hide. "No, she'd be too close." But the fact irked me in a way that I wanted to check. There was a link to the real estate agents website. There, I found a phone number. Without thinking much, I called it, not considering how late after office hours it was.

"Thank you for calling Juna Estate Agents. We are always happy to answer your questions, but you've caught us after office hours. We open at 8 am every day, so please don't hesitate to ca-!" I hang up before the woman's voice on the voicemail can finish.

‘I shouldn't be doing this.’ I think. I know. I shouldn't be tempting myself with the idea. It would only get my hopes up and I'd only come crashing down when I exhausted all the leads I might find.

"She's dead." I reminded myself, pushing my father's questions to the back of my head, and turned off the computer.

~~~~~~~~~~

Monday came around and I was particularly exhausted. The last two nights had been the worst I had had in a while and I almost fell asleep cutting my own hair.

Heading to the cafeteria, notebook in hand, looking down at the floor, I was almost sleepwalking. Thankfully, I was pulled out of my dream-like state by a certain excitable morning person.

"Katsumi, you look so cute!" Naruko squealed upon seeing my now short hair. It was cut just shy of my shoulder, hugging the ear I pulled it behind. My hair was still white, too scared to dye it again in case I messed something up. Juna was always the one that did it for me and I didn't want to bother her.

"Thanks. It's easier to maintain this way." I laughed uneasily, hiding the true reason I prefered it short. My 'uncles' liked pulling on my hair. It’s hard to grab when it's like this. With a skip in her step, Naruko pulled me into the cafeteria.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I asked as we sat down, putting my heavy eyelids to the back of my mind.

"Chiba bought me a gift just because. It was so cute." She squealed, holding her cheeks as if her smile hurt. I cocked my head.

"Why’s he buying you gifts?" I asked before taking a spoonful of cereal.

"Oh shit, I didn't tell you?" She gasped and I shook my head, still chewing. "We're dating."

Instantly, I started choking at the gasp of air I took in when she told me. She asked me if I was okay and I put up a singular finger to tell her I'd just need a minute to recover.

"Si-Since when?" Taking the napkin she held out for me, I quickly wiped the milk covering the sides of my lips. I tried to ignore the fascinated stares of the male population around us.

"Hmm, a couple of months, I think? You'd have to ask him, he's the one that keeps track of it all." She waved of her unbothered-ness and continued eating as if I hadn't almost just died. "That reminds me, how was the party?"

Blushing, I tried to push the memory of Kaga holding me to the side as I reported how utterly bored I was for the rest of the event. "Her friends are all musicians, so they were mainly talking about their next concerts. Someone asked Juna if she was returning to the orchestra and she started balling." I forced a chuckle, really feeling sorry for my sister who couldn't accomplish the dream she wanted. She would have to settle to play for us and her daughter when she's old enough to play herself. I was sure Juna would push the joys of playing an instrument on her, or any future children she intended on having.

"What about the instructors?" Her wiggling eyebrows were enough to tell me she thought something kinky happened. I blushed but said I didn't notice because I was so busy. "You sure?" She dragged out her question, sliding into the seat next to mine, peering into my face. I stuffed my mouth with the rest of my cereal and jumped up, pointing to the door like I was in a rush to get to class. "You can't hide from me, Katsumi! I'm trained for this!"

~~~~~~

At the end of the day, I was sitting in the Instructor's Staff Room as usual, but couldn’t concentrate on my work. In the silence, my mind kept trailing to that clue my mother supposedly left for me. ‘Should I go looking for her? What if I end up leading someone to her? Could she be alive?’

As I thought, I didn't notice Kaga talking. Suddenly, I feel a blow on the back of my head and I jumped. "What're you spacing out for?" He glared down at me and I blushed an apology. When I tried to go back to work, he grabbed the arm of my spinning chair and directed it towards him, pinning me down by grabbing the other side.

"Are you still hung up on that kiss?" He whispered, his face incredibly close, gaze so strong I felt like I couldn't look away. "I can give you one if it helps you forget." The smirk on his face told me he was teasing, but I couldn't help my imagination run wild.

‘He's your instructor, Katsumi” That's not appropriate.’ I told myself off and shook my head 'no'.

"What're you spacing out for then?" He kept interrogating me, making no move to back down.

"I... I didn't get much sleep last night." I muttered, scared if I talked too loud I would stutter over every word.

"You have your pills. Take them." He demanded and I looked away, embarrassed I needed help to even sleep. I felt pathetic. When I didn't respond, Kaga stood up straight and returned to his office. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and returned to work, completely forgetting about any possibility of finding my mother.

~~~~~~

Working away at my desk, trying to distract myself from any thought about the woman sitting just outside my office, Ayumu stormed in with a stern look on his face.

"Someone keeps accessing a case file on the database." He dropped the papers on my desk after making sure the door was closed behind him. I looked down and found a solved case from over a decade ago. "I looked at the security cameras pointing at the computer used and guess who I found." He slapped another sheet down with a dishevelled and tired-looking Katsumi pictured on it. My brows furrowed at this suspicious behaviour.

"I'll deal with it." Wanting to be the first one to hear her explanation, I slid the files into my desk. Ayumu's brows flickered together before he realised what I said. I glared up at him, daring him to argue, but instead, he excused himself, walking right back out the door as fast as he came in.

~~~~~~

"I can't believe we were caught making out on security cameras!" Naruko, almost giddily, cries out after telling me an instructor had confronted both her and Chiba about inappropriate behaviour in the common rooms. Apparently, they were getting hot 'n' heavy before escaping to her room and they got caught. Although, that's not the part of the story I was fretting over.

‘I would have been caught sneaking on the computers in the middle of the night. Are there rules against that?’ I have to stop myself from pulling at my hair as I freaked out. Kaga or Ayumu would have gladly said something if I was doing anything wrong. ‘Should I come clean before they need to? No, that's a horrible idea. I'd be admitting my own guilt.’ I shook my head at my internal conversation, Naruko too self-absorbed to realise. She was walking to me the Instructor's Staff Room before lunch because I was tasked with delivering some papers to Kaga. ‘Oh god, what if this is an excuse to get me here?’

~~~~~~~~

At lunch, Katsumi knocked on the door of my office. Her head peeked in first, her short bob only leaning slightly. I found that style on her so sexy. Her white hair against her fair skin. Her neck on display for every man to see. I had to stop myself from staring her into the ground as she approached my desk with light steps, scared for some reason. That's when I remembered the case file she was caught staring at.

"Instructor Akiyame asked me-."

"What were you doing looking at these?" I cut her off, pulling the papers out and dropping them in front of me as she put the stack she had down. She froze, staring at the first page like it had just threatened her life. I watched her gulp, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear, giving herself time to think. She couldn't look at the glare I had on my face and I couldn't say I wasn’t amused. She'd been caught and she knew it, thinking she could just magic her way out of here by not answering me? No way.

Standing up, I walked around the desk to meet her gaze. She stumbled back, but I could tell she wasn’t terrified. Not like that guy at the party. Her eyes were wide, but not with fright. It was almost curiosity that pulled her in. She gulped again as I cornered her into the desk.

Just as I was about to ask again, she announced her reasonings. "My... My mother was a witness in that case." She bit her lip, turning away and her hair fell, blocking my view of that innocent guilty expression. I was almost annoyed that I got to miss it. I knew she had more to say, the absence in the movement of her chest told me she's holding her breath, waiting for me to push her further.

"She left me a ring before she ran away. It was a piece of evidence." She continued to report as I dropped a hand either side of her on my desk. She leaned so far back she might as well have been sitting on the surface. I looked down and her thigh in the tight trousers of the academy uniform widened as she pressured backwards.

"I thought she was dead... But my... My father kept asking me where she was... So I got curious." Her voice was trembling now, so I knew she was remembering her time in that underground torture chamber. My eyes narrowed, heart-stopping when I heard her frail noises. It angered me that she had to go through that. For her whole life. And it angered me that I didn't try looking for her when she didn't show up in the hotel. I had an inkling that something was up. A body can't be incinerated like that, no matter how much of the building went up in flames. I should have followed my instincts, but I let Ishigami's facts get the better of me. Our Chief even had to talk me down. I was so angry at her for running in. It was such a stupid move. Even still, I remembered her saving me. Even if some people told me it could have been a hallucination caused by the lack of oxygen I was getting because of all the smoke I had inhaled. I never let Ishigami change my actions. So, why did I then?

It was even harder when we found the woman at the club who looked just like her. The only thing that was different was her hair colour and the way she acted when we were far from her. She was comfortable, completely in her element as she pushed that guy into the bar. She almost seemed bored by the constant string of criminal activities in that club. I almost believed it wasn't her when she stood on the foothold of the stool and bent over the bar to get close and personal with the bartender, her dress just covering her most discreet place.

Yet, I saw the fluster on her cheeks when she turned to confront the suspicious man in the club she was meant to protect. I’ll be honest, I didn't think she had it in her to entice a man like that. On purpose. Not like the way she's intrigued me. Her unconscious movements and reactions to the way I treated her was a force that I hadn't enjoyed before. I always found myself wondering how far I could push her before she got mad and stormed away, not afraid to take the work I had given her before I even finished my demands.

I backed up when I heard her sniff. Her arm darted in front of her eyes so I couldn't see and I started to feel guilty that I was the cause of it.

"I keep telling myself that she's dead, but I can't help thinking that she's out there. I even called this estate agent, using the clue in that ring, but it was too late at night and I backed out." She was pouring her heart out to me as she cried, still hiding her true pain from me. I sighed, wrapping my arms around her because it seemed like it helped her. She grabbed the sleeve of my arm. Not to push away, but to help support herself.

‘Moron.’ I wasn’t calling her one, she was perfectly allowed to be reacting like this. She was a broken girl who went through a traumatic event. I was blaming myself for feeling the feelings that I was. I noticed the way she bit the tip of her thumb when she was stressed, not because of an interrogation tactic, but because her frowning brows looked so cute. I noticed the way she lifted her glasses onto her head the second she could because she got so annoyed by them. I noticed the way she could just brush Ayumu's teasing off and how she had grown so used to all the men in the academy talking to her. She had calmed down since the beginning of the year, when she couldn't even sit down on a bed next to me.

Now that I think about it, maybe that was for a different reason as well? She was always so cautious, so willing to prove herself to everyone else, I wondered how she would react if she knew how I felt? How I thought about her at night when I finally got a moment of silence away from Four Eyes or sudden changes to my schedule.

My gaze fell to the back of her neck, exposed under the hair that floated over her shoulders and I was angry with myself that that was how I reacted in the moment. It wasn’t appropriate and not okay. And, even though I say that, I couldn't help but be happy that I was the one that could hold her. I was the one that could back her up into a wall and tease her. She wouldn't tell me off, not like she did to Ayumu when he got too personal. I was the one that knew how her outdated sense in music calmed her down. I might not have known how much she was struggling, but I knew how to help her.

~~~~~~~~~

As I stood in Kaga's arms again, I couldn't help but think how safe I felt with him. His arms were so strong and his chest was hard but soft. The heat radiating off him would otherwise be unbearable but the way his breath blew on the back of my neck as I cried into him, it was tolerable. The cigarette smell mixed in with cologne didn't bite at my nose the same way my father did, he only ever smelt like the acidic stench cigars gave him. The glares he gave me were more encouraging than anything, daring me to do better. The way he held me on missions may be temporary and full of the facade we were trying to portray, but my heart raced every time. Sure, whenever a guy got into my personal space I'm embarrassed, unused to a towering figure that could be kind and protective, but with Kaga, it was different. I didn't know how, but it just was.

However, embarrassment quickly consumed me. I'm reminded of how unprofessional this was. I was meant to be a student learning to be a detective. Not a little girl who cried every time she got in her head.

Taking a deep breath, I drew back and Kaga eased his grasp but didn't fully let me go. I looked up at him with an uneasy gaze and there was a look in his eyes that I didn't recognise. It was almost scary. He was the devil Instructor, so who's surprised? But this... This was different. It was the look he had when he pulled Noburu off me and I wanted to run away from it, too ashamed for him to see me act so deplorable.

Inching back further, he seemed to come to his senses and let me go entirely. The cool rush of loneliness almost made me miss it. Almost.

I was about to apologise for how I had been acting when the school bell rang, signally the end of our lunch break.

"Moron, don't just stand there, get moving." Kaga’s expression had turned into a scowl again and he hit the side of my head with the papers I had previously set down. The light hud reminded me of how he hadn't done that since I returned. Had he been holding off until he knew I was completely healed? And he insulted me, something he had also been easing back into. I likeed the push of encouragement and my tears dried quicker than I would have liked. It was so childish to calm down so quickly. Almost like I was having a tantrum and someone just gave me a piece of candy. With the knowledge of that, I blushed and bowed before running out of the office, having dried my face on my sleeve.

#voltage fanfic #voltage games #her love in the force #hlitf ayumu #hlitf goto #hlitf ishigami #hlitf kaga #hlitf soma #hlitf shinonome #hlitf fanfic #hlitf #crime #oc #ooc #mafia #mob #police #detectives

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mybeautifulbeautifuleternal · 4 years

Text

i couldn’t utter it, i couldn’t whisper it (my love for you was silent); i

Chapter One - But do we really have to?

rating: its a gen fic for The Umbrella Academy

words:6.7k

chapter:1/10

warnings: nothing atypical for the umbrella academy

AO3

a/n: I blame @sam-writes for pretty much all of this!

Summary: In one world, the young teenager hid when she abruptly found herself pregnant and she gave birth in secret, left the baby on a random doorstep, and never looked back. Unfortunately, this isn’t that world. In this world, Reginald Hargreeves finds her and takes her baby. It doesn’t end well.

The young women gasped in pain. Her stomach hurt so much. She didn’t know what was happening and her new husband wasn’t around to help her. She started bleeding and her stomach ballooned outward. She lay back on the bed, her stomach bulging out in a massive dome, while the blood continued to seep out of her. She could do nothing but cry as she felt the urge to push.

Hours later, with an outraged and confused husband in tow, she looked up from her new daughter when she heard the knocking on the door. She had a bad feeling about it.

Only 30 minutes later, the eccentric man left with her daughter. She had just sold her daughter away.

She started to cry again.

Charlie sighed as she locked her doors. Another good day on the books. She was glad that Mr. Johnston had stopped by again - she always liked to hear from her regulars and she was glad his mother was doing better from her hip surgery. She had had a small group of young teenagers - Sam, Lena, Jonathan, Rachel, and Georgie - come through today and grab some fruit and camp out in her side room to work on their homework. She had wandered through occasionally offering help but receiving it more often than not. She could now say she knew what the mitochondria was and that apparently it was the powerhouse of the cell. Cause apparently that was a thing.

Thanks, dad for all that stellar education you gave us.

She continued her walk through the downstairs, absentmindedly picking up Knickknack - a stray that she’s pretty sure she can’t actually classify as a stray anymore - to check up on her plants. She was encouraging them to grow bigger, to grow stronger, removing the death within them, giving them nutrients. This was truly the best part of her day. To sink herself into the Green, the living, the growth. To let herself feel the Life thrumming through the plants, through them even deeper into the Earth, and the people, and the animals.

For all the grief that these powers had given her - a father that never loved her, siblings who now hated her, missions that almost destroyed her - she couldn’t bring herself to ever hate them, not the powers, not the Green, themselves.

Not with all the good they gave her, the good she could give to other people because of them.

As she was working, the TV caught her eye. She dropped her watering can.

Billionaire Reginald Hargreeves Dead.

She couldn’t breathe. Was it actually possible that he was dead? She moved closer to the TV, reading the subtitles. She couldn’t contain her grin if she tried - which she didn’t.

Ding dong - the wicked witch was dead.

Charlie was walking. Whenever she had to come in this direction, she walked. She didn’t want to give those men any more power over her than she already had.

Now that Allison and Luther were back in New York, she knew that the funeral was going to happen today. None of them were all that comfortable staying in close quarters for all that long. They’d get the funeral done as quickly as they could so they'd be able to disperse across the country again. She’d say they only see each other for funerals and weddings but Allison was the only one married - to her knowledge anyway - and none of them had been invited to her wedding. So they really only saw each other for funerals, apparently.

And as much as she didn’t want to be back in that house, among siblings that hated her, she did want to see Mom and Pogo again.

Also, she felt if she didn’t go, then she’d always wonder if the bastard was actually dead.

She slowed down when she saw that she was getting closer to the academy. She really didn’t want to get there too early and have to deal with the entire family for longer than she had too. Not anymore.

All too soon, however, she made her way home.

bleh. Too nice of a thought to have for that place.

She crept into the house and made her way into the upstairs library’s balcony. She planned to stay there until the last possible second and they could get the whole farce over with.

Laying in the upstairs library, Charlie had a front-row seat to the comings of her siblings. She had gotten here early (too early honestly) and planted herself in a dark corner then just didn’t move. At all. She had spent her teenage years learning the best way to go unnoticed amongst a group of people that spent their life in the spot life or had the utmost wish to do so. Her? She had no wish for more cameras, more attention, than what was needed.

Luther was the first. He had come down the main stairs soon after she had arrived so Charlie guessed that he was actually staying here and had arrived before she had. Diego stomped in just before lunch and immediately made his way to the kitchen (and Mom, based on what she could smell coming from the kitchen) so she had 3 guesses to what he would spend the day doing but she only needed 1 of them. Allison swanned in just after lunch and she was seen up and down the hallways. Klaus pranced in and went off on a scavenger hunt, so Charlie guessed he was looking for something to pawn for his next hit. Vanya had crept in the middle of the afternoon and Charlie could see that had set off some sparks. Allison seemed to like her presence well enough but Charlie didn’t need her hearing to know that Diego went for the soft spots when they actually interacted.

Luckily her hiding spot was good and she didn’t actually have to interact with any of them yet. She wondered how long it would take them to notice. She wondered if they would. Or if they would even care.

She finally moved from her hidden corner and laid out on a couch so as to announce her presence whenever her siblings deigned to come back to the library.

She made sure she stayed away from the area where she was injured. She wasn’t going to test fate. She also made sure that she could see all the seats in the area well enough. Most of her charade counted on her being able to read lips and guess what was happening.

As she settled down on her chosen chaise, she watched as Vanya wandered in from the atrium. Vanya glanced at her but then proceeded to ignore her as she? apparently searched out and found her book. As Pogo made his way into the room and engaged Vanya in a conversation - one centered on the book and dad’s indifference - Charlie switched her attention to Five’s weird-ass portrait.

Which was just hilarious because like hell Reggie actually cared about any of his child soldiers. Charlie always thought that he had placed that portrait (and eventually, Ben’s statue) to remind them of the ‘failures’ of the family. She didn’t believe for a second that Reggie had actually brought himself to care about any of them let alone the one he couldn’t control or the one he couldn’t stand.

“16 years, 4 months, and 14 days.”

So the subject was Five? She wasn’t really surprised - before he disappeared, Five and Vanya were almost always in each other's pockets. Her siblings had really paired off when they were young - One and Three, Two and Mom, Four and Six, and Five and Seven. She had floated between the pairs whenever she wanted really - she was well-liked between all her siblings. She always thought it was because it was hard to hate the person who kept you fed when Dad was being a dick. Charlie had tried to actually connect with any of her siblings, to form better closer relationships between them - more than what they had actually wanted to have, apparently. And when Five did disappear, she tried to be there for Vanya. She joined her during their scheduled free time, she taught herself some musical terms so she could talk to her about her violin lessons, she reached her hand out again and again. But Vanya didn’t seem all that interested in reaching back. And while she kept trying, Vanya seemed less interested as time went on.

And then her book, Extra-Ordinary, came out and apparently Vanya thought Charlie had been mocking her the entire time. She couldn’t see that Charlie, allegedly the popular sibling, was just trying to be her sister. No - Charlie was just making fun of her for missing her best friend.

“Where’s the cash, dad?”

Allison was jerked from her memories of standing here 17 years ago, wanting her dad to finally just acknowledge them for even something as little as a goodnight, by Klaus. She strode over to the ridiculous deck that dominated the room and peered at Klaus pawing through Dad’s drawers.

“Where’s the cash?”

“Klaus? What are you doing in here?”

“Oh! Allison! Wow, is that you?”

Allison could only smile as she looked at Klaus. He was, as always, one of a kind. She knew that he was only trying to get cash for his addiction but she was still charmed by him.

“Hey, come here. Long time. Too long. Hey, I was hoping to see you, actually, because I wanted to get your autograph. Add it to my collection!”

Despite the fact Klaus was mocking dad and the fact that he was dead, Allison was still smiling. She was just glad that she decided to come home. With everything that was happening with Patrick and Claire, she hadn’t been sure it was the right decision but she was enjoying herself. And with everything that was happening in LA, she knew that she wanted to reach out to her family. She wanted to be close to Luther again, her best friend, like when they were kids. She wanted her brothers - the entirety of them, Diego in his weird leather BDSM gear and Klaus with his unique fashion sense and drug habits. She really wanted her sisters back as well. Loving, caring Charlie and sweet, gentle Vanya. Charlie who had tried so hard to love all her siblings. Vanya who just wanted to be seen and known by them. Allison wished she could go back in time to fix things but she couldn't. She was determined to start now, however. It might be 30 years late but she was going to make positive relationships with her siblings if she had to kill them. And really, based on previous experience, she would have too.

“Get out of his chair.”

Allison stiffened slightly as she heard Luther speak from the doorway. This was going to be the first time she saw him since she left at 18. When she turned to look at him, she was surprised to see him. He was so much larger than he was 10 years ago, almost grotesquely so. But he was still very much her best friend.

As Klaus babbled in a panic at being caught, Allison looked Luther over. He was still the towering figure she remembered but his muscles had grown and bulged in weird spots. He also appeared to have ditched the all-black mission uniforms and even those awful Academy uniforms that dad had made them wear all the time. Instead, he was bundled up in a, frankly, ugly turtleneck, a large overcoat, and fingerless gloves. She wondered if this was normal from before the 4 years spent on the moon or if this was something that had happened because of the moon mission.

Klaus dropped his treasures and made his retreat, and Allison had to laugh. She was really glad she was home.

Luther was frustrated but not surprised. Of course, Klaus was trying to steal from Dad. Even on the day of his funeral. Pair that with Diego disregarding his thoughts on why Dad was dead - someone took his monocle and it really meant nothing to anyone outside the family, of course that implied something - and he was tired of dealing with his brothers already. It had been less than an hour - which was on point for them, honestly.

“So, Klaus is still Klaus, in case you were wondering.”

“You know, after all these years, I find it strangely comforting.”

“Did you see Diego?”

“With his stupid outfit?”

“Oh, I know. Do you think he wears that thing in the bathroom?”

“Like in the shower?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, Absolutely!”

As Allison laughed, Luther looked down. He was always happy when he could make her find joy. And it had been too long since they had seen each other in person. He had gone to see each of her movies, she was amazing, but they hadn’t talked since she left a decade ago. And Luther had missed his best friend.

“I-is Charlie here? Have you seen her yet?”

Luther paused in his thoughts about how to keep the conversation going to look up at her.

“Charlie? Why do you want to talk to her? You do remember what she did, right?”

“She did nothing but support our other sister. We snapped and snarled at Charlie because we were angry with Vanya but she wasn’t there for us to do so. Charlie has, since the very beginning, been nothing but kind and loving towards all of us. She wanted nothing more than for us to actually be a family. Instead, we shot her down time and time again.”

“That book was completely awful to all of us!! And she didn’t care!”

“She cared! She cared about what was happening with Vanya that she felt like she had to write that stupid thing! And regardless of all of that - Charlie is still our sister and I want to see her!”

Luther took a deep breath. He had forgotten that, despite the fact that Allison was his best friend, she was still his sibling and that included the ability to completely infuriate him in only a couple of words.

“I haven’t seen her yet. And I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Me either.”

The one main downside to the spot she chose was that she couldn’t see the door. On the other hand, with her laying down - people didn’t see her so they generally didn’t try to talk to her before coming in.

Diego was the first in the room. As he came around her couch, he spotted her from the corner of his eye and his hand went automatically to his BDSM gear and the multitude of knives he kept there. It took more than a second for him to release them. Charlie raised a very judgmental eyebrow in his direction. She knew he was still thinking of using one of those things - but against her instead. She dared him to try. He flicked a look up and over her shoulder where she knew the giant ferns, trees, and vines that were placed against the inside wall were growing and moving in the nonexistent wind. He was surrounded by Green things.

Who would be faster?

He scoffed, released his hand, rolled his eyes, and dropped into his chair by the fireplace.

Good. At least with him choosing to ignore her, this wouldn’t progress into a fight like their family meetings usually did.

Vanya was the next into the room and the tension racketed up again.

Klaus was the third into the room and, other than a flippant wave of his Hello hand, ignored them to survey Dad’s very extensive liquor collection. He was kind enough to bring her a whiskey when she peered over at him. Thank God - she would definitely need the alcohol later. And she was glad to see that he was still wearing her keys around his neck. She wasn’t sure if he had ever used them but she was glad that he had kept them, nevertheless.

Allison and Luther finished up the collection, and while it looked like Allison wanted to talk to her, Luther walked her over the seat across from Diego. He took the seat across from Vanya. His sitting down seemed like a call for the official meeting to start. He was always so dramatic.

Despite Luther apparently calling to order the meeting, nobody actually said anything for a solid couple of minutes. They were all just sitting around, pointedly not looking at one another.

“Um...I guess we should probably get this started. So I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at Dad’s favorite spot.”

Of course, it was Luther, the golden boy, who knew that dad had a favorite spot. Nobody else was close enough to that human icebox to know that kind of information.

“Dad had a favorite spot?”

“You know, under the oak tree. We used to sit there all the time. None of you ever did that?”

The rest of us just sort of pursed their lips and avoided looking at Luther. While it sort of wasn’t his fault that Dad was a dick and favored him over them, it still stung something awful to be reminded of that fact.

Fucking Dad

Thankfully Klaus, with his usual spectacular timing, interrupted Luther.

“Will there be refreshments? Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a hit.”

He looked around hopefully. Charlie decided to help him and grew some fruits and nuts near him, making a big cucumber near his seat - kinda mockingly.

He almost flinched away before he shot her a delighted look and picked up a peach.

“Danke Schwester!”

She gave him a thumbs up and turned back to Luther cause she just knew that he was going to have some sort of fit about something that just happened.

“What? No. And put that out. Dad didn’t allow smoking in here. And get rid of the fruit. You know that Dad didn’t allow that sort of thing outside of training.”

She flipped him off and Klaus very pointedly turned around.

“Is that my skirt?” Allison cut off whatever response might have come when she questioned Klaus’ newest fashion choice.

“What? Oh, yeah, this. I found it in your room. It’s a little dated, I know, but very breathy on the bits. ”

Luther proved his place as Number One Ass within the next couple of minutes.

“Listen up. Still, some important things that we need to discuss, all right?”

“Like what?”

“Like the way he died.”

“And here we go.”

“I don’t understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack?”

“Yeah, according to the coroner.”

“Well, wouldn’t they know?”

“Theoretically.”

“Theoretically?”

Charlie had a bad feeling about where this conversation was going.

“I’m just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time that I talked to Dad, he sounded strange.”

Yeah, her bad feeling about this conversation was correct. She had an idea about where he was going to go with all this lead. By the looks on her siblings’ faces, only really Diego knew where Luther was going with this. Everyone else just looked surprised.

She started to mostly ignore what they were saying. She knew that Luther was implying that one of them had killed Dad because Luther couldn’t rationalize the fact that Dad was, supposedly, human as well. That Dad could die from something just as common as a heart attack, instead of a portal to hell opening up to take him back.

“Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.”

Everyone looked at Luther in disbelief. They all knew that Klaus was high as fuck. And even if he wasn’t, there was no way he would ever want to summon that monster here.

After Klaus soundly shot down the theory of summoning Dad from his brunch with Mussolini, Stalin, and Hitler, Luther was finally ready to move on to why he suspected them of offing the old bastard.

“Then there’s the issue of the missing monocle.”

“Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?”

“Exactly. It’s worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed Dad.”

And with that, the silence fell. Or so she assumed. The looks on everyone’s faces though. She knew that none of them were extremely sad that he had died, but to have Luther accuse them of killing him? That hurt.

“You do?”

“How could you think that?”

“Great job, Luther. Way to lead.”

And with that, she was up from the couch and headed out of the room. She didn’t really feel like staying near him. For him to think, after everything that he had done, that she would kill Dad?

She knew that she shouldn’t have come here today.

As she was walking out to the courtyard, she thought of the first mission they went on. The Capital West bank - 17 years ago. Robbers had taken hostages and were threatening them. Sir had taken them there to deal with the problem. Number Three and her had entered first, Three so she could Rumor someone and her so she could have time to spread some seeds and Grow some plants to have a base to start off from.

As she and Three started wreaking havoc, One dropped in from the glass section of the roof and started throwing some of the robbers around. Two came in from the front and started his work with the knives. Soon she was using her Growth to help shield the hostages while Two, Three, and Four were mocking and messing with the guards near the front desk. Five dropped in with his signature sass and took down those guys.

One was finished with his targets and was searching for some more people. He found them in the vault and she knew it was Six’s turn. He never liked any of the work but he especially hated having to release the Horrors when they could be a target. This isolation of robbers was just the kind of thing Sir would insist on Six handling.

They finished with the robbers in the main room and she and Two released the hostages while One and Four prompted Six to finish off the people in the vault. She hoped he hurried. She was growing weary and needed some sun and sugar to regain her energy.

After Six exited the room, she went to help him wash off the blood and to make him look more presentable. Sir was going to come down and give a speech, introducing them to the world and he wouldn’t be pleased with them if the first look at Six the world had was him covered in blood.

After the seven of them gathered on the front steps, Sir joined them from wherever he was when they were completing the mission. He had them lined up in front of the cameras and reporters while he gave his prepared speech and answered some of their questions.

“Our world is changing. Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted seven such children. I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”

Minutes after she sat down outside, she could feel vibrations coming from the plants closest to Luther’s room. She sat up and concentrated some more. Luther had the biggest vinyl collection in the family, and whenever Dad had to leave he’d place something on the machine and let the music play throughout the entire mansion. And it seems like he was going to continue the tradition. She wondered what was actually playing now. She’d place money on it be I Think We’re Alone Now. He usually started with that one as a signal.

She stood up from her seat and started to sway around the courtyard. She may not be able to hear the music but that song was imprinted on her very being. It was one of the best things from their childhoods - freedom, as much as they were granted back then.

Just as she was getting into the groove, everything went suddenly dark and ominous. Lightning flashed and she could feel the thunder boom.

She quickly went from being semi-carefree Charlie to serious, trained Number Eight. She placed herself up against one of the walls and sunk herself into the Green. A blue portal was opening up above her and she was determined to stop whatever it was here in the courtyard before it could gain ground towards the Academy.

Her jewelry, few as it was, pulled in the direction of the portal - but most of her free attention was dragged towards the door where Number Two was exiting. She made her way towards him by routine memory. She was always near the back of the Academy - where she could see everyone and could also protect their backs. Over a decade later and it was still the position she was going to take.

Seven, One, and Three were on Two’s tail when she finally slid up to them. They quickly set up in their positions. One and Two in front, where they had the most space to move and could make up the physical wall that Three used before she could figure out who to actually Rumor. Seven was pushed into a spot so they could protect her as well. Eight stayed back a couple of steps so she’d have space to Grow. Four, who was running from the house, broke through the ranks with a fire exti-- a fire extinguisher?!? Why? Which he then used on the portal to no effect. When it very obviously didn’t work, he threw it into the portal.

When Eight glanced towards the portal, she saw a man. He was old and grey and she had never seen him before in her life but still. Her heart gave a particularly hard thump and she could swear she knew him. As she continued to watch him, she saw that he was screaming. And that he was getting younger? As the waves of blue were flashing over his face, he went from the original old man back through the ages, flashing back into a young teenager. After his final transformation, he fell face-first onto the ground - as he hit the ground the portal disappeared.

But before he hit, Eight could have sworn…

Fucking fuck. That goddamn hurt.

Five was hoping that he had actually made it because he really didn’t want to have to do that sort of jump again. Nor did he want to attempt that sort of landing again.

As he slowly stood up from where he slammed face-first into the ground, Five took stock of where he was. And while he didn’t necessarily recognize them, he was reassured when one of them said,

“Does anyone else see little Number Five or is that just me?”

Then the actual words the other man uttered registered and he looked down.

“Shit.”

Well, Eight supposed there were weirder things than their 13-year-old brother, who disappeared 17 years ago, popping up on the first day they were all together again from a glowing blue portal in the sky.

She couldn’t think of anything weirder currently but she was sure they existed.

After they collected themselves from his reappearance, they all moved towards the kitchen, slowly trailing after Five.

She was sitting with her back to the door - half an eye on her older siblings, half an eye on her little brother, and trying to calm herself down from the absolute adrenaline rush the last 10 minutes had been.

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

“So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?”

Of course, it was Luther who started the aggressive questioning, like he didn’t remember what an absolute little shit Five was. He was going to take this line of questioning really well.

And there they went, the tallest brother squaring up against the shortest brother.

Despite only catching half of the conversation, she was doing her best to follow along. They were arguing - like usual - about what had happened to Five when he left. She had the hardest time tracking what Five was saying with his tendency to Jump from place to place instead of using his legs.

“- jumping through time is a toss of the dice. Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, danke!”

“Wait, how did you get back?”

“In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time”

“That makes no sense.”

“Well, it would if you were smarter.”

She had to roll her eyes. Even 17 years later and apparently some time travel, and he was still a colossal ass. Then again, her siblings made it super easy.

“How long were you there?”

“45 years. Give or take.”

Well. Holy shit. 45 years…he was 58? Well, he was always an old man in a young body.

“Delores?”

“Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How’d you know about that?”

“What part of future do you not understand? Heart failure, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Hmm. Nice to see nothing's changed.”

And with that glowing review, Five left the room. She wasn’t too surprised. He never really had the temperament to stay long in voluntary family gatherings - especially when the extra-thick duo were really living it up to their title.

When Allison turned back towards the table, she assumed that Five really had left and she shifted to better face the rest of them to keep them in her sights. They were all trading looks.

“Well…”

“That was interesting.”

Idiots.

After that disaster of a full family meeting, she retreated back outside to hide amongst the Green. She most definitely didn’t want to deal with any more people bullshit than she had too and they still had to do the actual funeral. She decided that some meditating was in order and she had made it very clear years ago that to interrupt her meditating time was at their own peril. Of course, that only stopped the lower numbers but the first 4 learned quickly, for the most part.

Too soon really, the rest of her siblings and Mom joined her outside near Ben’s god-awful statue. The weather seemed to mirror the general situation with a rainstorm finally breaking. She moved to stand near Mom to share her umbrella but slowed when Diego’s hands got real close his stupid leather harness.

Instead, she felt Allison come up beside her to share her umbrella with her. She tensed slightly with the close contact but soon relaxed when she realized it was harmless. She moved a little bit closer to her and relaxed as much as she could.

Huh. She still wore the perfume Charlie got her for their 17th birthday. That was…nice.

“Did something happen?”

All of them turned to Mom when she asked that. Charlie felt a pit form in the bottom of her stomach. Mom shouldn’t sound like that and she definitely shouldn’t be questioning what was happening

“Oh. yes, of course.”

Charlie really hated that look on Mom’s face. She never wanted to be the reason why it was put there and she found some more hate for Dad, because of it.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.”

Pogo finally joined them outside and it signaled the start of this shebang.

“Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.”

With a look around at them, Luther took Dad’s urn and upended it...where it piled up on top of the wet ground. Gross.

“Probably would have been better with some wind.”

She only raised an eyebrow at him.

“Does anyone wish to speak?”

She aimed the flattest look she knew how to at Pogo but stayed where she was. Does anyone wish to speak? Of course, she did but could she? Hardly. And none of her siblings offered.

“Very well. In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master...and my friend and I shall miss him very much. He leaves behind a complicated legacy--”

“He was a monster. He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego.”

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it.”

“Would anyone like something to eat?”

“No, it’s ok, Mom.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.”

“You should stop talking now. I'm warning you.”

And here we go, One vs Two funeral style. She was worried they weren’t going to follow their script. And of course, Diego was the one to actually start the fight. She pulled Allison back to give them some more room to try to bash each other’s heads in. She’d place money on Diego, he’d always been jealous of Luther and could fight at a distance. Luther, despite everything about him, didn’t really like fighting against the family.

“And there goes Ben’s statue.”

Ben’s statue hit the ground with a thud that she could feel and she and Allison turned to go back inside. She had had enough of this crap. They were only in the kitchen when Luther ran past them. Vanya was close behind him. As her siblings streamed past her, she went to the cabinets. Mom always kept some cookies at hand in case any of them needed a case of pick me ups. She didn’t really know when else they would need them. And there they were - chocolate chocolate chip. She plated them and grabbed some milk and glasses. As she sat down at the table, she was surprised by the familiarity of it. They always had their assigned seats and she had just taken her normal spot.

“Nietzsche once said, ‘Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman. A rope of the abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling and halting.’”

After dad finished his quote, Seven blew the whistle and the rest of them started their run up the stairs. She was slower than the rest but she was reaching for the Green on the top floor. As soon as she got a good grip on it, she pulled it towards herself and used it to pull herself up. As she was rapidly going up, she saw the tell-tale sign of Five’s Teleporting.

“That’s not fair, Five and Eight are cheating!”

“They adapted.”

She felt bad for her siblings, but she was loving the feel of the tattoo gun. It was a very soothing feeling. But she could see her siblings were hurt from their tattoos or were scared for their turns. She wished that they could like it more or that they didn’t have to get one.

After she sat down with her cookies and milk, Diego led Mom past them - probably towards her charging station. He barely glanced at her and she told him - using her face alone - to fuck right off. She was almost ready to fight him.

Klaus flounced in and sat at the head of the table. He grabbed a couple of cookies from her plate and then drank her milk. She just frowned at him prompting him to flap his Hello hand. With a roll of her eyes, she just refilled their glass. Soon afterward, Five came in and started going through all the cabinets.

“Where’s Vanya?”

“Oh, she’s gone.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah.”

“An entire square block. 42 bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee. And you can shut up.”

He pointed at her and her raised eyebrow. She only shrugged and made a point to use her eyes to point out the fact he was 13 again.

He just rolled his eyes back at her.

“Dad hated caffeine.”

“Well, he hated children, too, and he had plenty of us.”

She really hated to admit that Klaus was right.

“I’m taking the car.”

“Where are you going?”

Both she and Five turned to stare incredulously at Klaus. He was just talking about not having any coffee. Where else was he going to go?

“To get a decent cup of coffee.”

“Do you even know how to drive?”

“I know how to do everything.”

He made another face back at her, cause like hell he knew how to do everything.

The arrogant ass. And then he was gone.

“But then again, I also just kinda want to see what happens.”

“All right, I guess I’ll you guys in, what, ten years? When Pogo dies? You, hopefully, longer still. Or never.”

Diego made his way into the room talking and pointed at her at the end of his sentence. She flipped him off and leaned back in her chair.

“Not if you die first.”

“Yeah, love you too, sis.”

“Good luck on your next film. Hope it turns out better than your marriage, huh?”

She kicked at his ankles for that asshole comment. He flinched back from her and went for his harness. She steadied herself and narrowed her eyes. But then Allison left back into the house and Diego and Klaus went out towards the back door.

She just leaned back in her and closed her eyes. She was so fucking tired of being in this stupid house. She finally decided to just leave. There was nothing, well almost nothing, left for her in this place.

She stood up and washed her dishes, then went to find Mom. She didn’t want to leave before she said hi and bye to her.

As she was walking through the main lobby, she saw Mom’s shadow on the upper levels. As she reached the top of the stairs, she looked around and saw Mom sitting at her charging station. She made her way over to her and sat down next to her.

She held onto Mom’s hand and they sat together staring at her paintings. This, this right here, the calm evenings with Mom, were her favorite parts of this house. She studied Mom’s paintings. She did have some pretty ones. But she knew Mom’s favorite was the portrait of the young lady in the black dress. She sat with Mom until her eyes started to flash blue, signaling her recharging.

She stood up, gave Mom a kiss on her forehead, and left the house.

She arrived home and she could finally relax. Once she was in through the front door, she locked it and slid to the floor. That was...exhausting. She sincerely wished her siblings long lives so she didn’t have to see them again, soon. Knickknack climbed up into her lap. She started to comb her fingers through their fur. She really should take her to get checked out soon, cause she was pretty sure she’d been adopted by this grey cat.

She heaved a sigh and stood up sometime later. She felt like she’d feel better if she completed her evening routine. She grabbed the watering hose, tucked Knickknack up on her shoulder, and started her circle around the store. The Green and Growing would help settle her down. Maybe some actual supper and then a rosewater and lavender bath before she went to bed.

When Knickkack rubbed her head against her chin, she took that as an agreement that it was a good plan.

Hopefully, things were going to go back to normal in the next couple of days.

Next Chapter

#the umbrella academy imagine #tua imagine #the umbrella academy #m's fics #my stuff #tua #hargreeves children #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #charlie hargreeves #i couldn’t utter it

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yamayamawrites · 4 years

Text

Wishing You the Best - TodoDeku

Hi friends! As a birthday present from myself to you, I’m coming back from my month-long break to give you....a TodoDeku pen pals AU! I’ve been very busy writing this past month and trying to start and finish fics before posting them (I say, as I post the first chapter of an unfinished fic). This one is kind of different from my normal stuff because it’s shorter - each chapter is only 1-2k words long. I have something else in my drafts that should be coming out shortly that I’m really proud of (100k+) so please be aware that’s coming, too!

Anyways, this one is a university AU in which Midoriya and Todoroki (and the rest of class 1-A) are university students! It has a little hint of coffee shop AU vibes, but for the most part it’s just a university AU. Hope you enjoy this first chapter!!

Week 01

Izuku’s never been a fan of English classes. He’s not bad at speaking the language; in fact, he’s quite good at it. The problem is that it’s not nearly as intriguing as some of the other courses he’s taken. He’s more interested in science and math classes, in solving complex problems and studying the way the world around him works.

Which is why he’s so nervous about these three words written in sloppy English on the board in front of him.

‘PEN PAL PROJECT’

He drops into his seat with a huff next to Ochaco, who has already arranged her notebook and colored pens in preparation for note-taking. Izuku has English and Chemistry with her, and they sit together for both; naturally, at the end of the day they trade notebooks – Izuku takes her English notes and she his Chemistry notes – and they review and fill in holes where they missed them. It’s an effective system, and Izuku especially likes looking at Ochaco’s neat handwriting.

Ochaco tosses a friendly smile over her shoulder at him and he returns it, wide and a little winded from sprinting the campus to get here. It’s a nine in the morning class, and his alarm clock has a habit of not going off in the morning. Izuku sometimes gets the suspicion that Kacchan, his roommate, has some part in that. “Morning, Deku!” Ochaco chirps, then returns her attention to writing today’s date at the top of her notebook page. She’s deciding on a color scheme for her notes.

“Morning!” Izuku replies, bright and chipper. “You should go with blue and red today.”

“You always say that,” Ochaco laughs, but still she settles on her blue and red pens. “What do you think this is all about?” she nods vaguely at the board, and all Izuku can do is shrug and open his mouth to reply before their professor is proudly proclaiming his entrance into the classroom.

“Good morning!” Professor Yamada is shouting, and he really doesn’t need to yell because the classroom is relatively small but he does anyway. Some of the less awake students wince at his voice, but Izuku’s come to expect it, having been briefed by a few friends who have had Professor Yamada in the past. “Welcome to English one-oh-six!”

He’s speaking English right now, and Izuku’s taken enough English courses in middle school and high school to know most of what he’s saying, but it does take him a moment to piece the number together. He uses context clues to assume Professor Yamada is talking about the class number and he nods his head once, glad to make a connection like this so early in the morning and without any caffeine. (It’s not something he should be as impressed about as he is.)

Yamada switches gears and begins going through the plans of the day in Japanese. “Let’s talk about the Pen Pal Project,” he claps his hands together as he finishes going over basic syllabus information. “For the next semester, you will be exchanging weekly letters with a pen pal in English. It’s much easier to learn a language when you write in said language and communicate with others in that language. I’ve assigned each of you a pen pal from the other sections of English one-oh-six, and you’ll be expected to write them a note each week for class.”

The class around Izuku is convoluted. Some are whispering about how they think this is a childish lesson, others are excitedly chattering with their friends at the possibility of getting to write letters back and forth with another friend from a different section of this course. Ochaco leans over to Izuku, and she appears to be part of the latter group of students. “Isn’t this exciting?!” she whisper-shouts. “Maybe I’ll get to write letters to Tsuyu!”

Izuku hums, taps his pencil on the desk. He doesn’t know many people at this university yet – he really only knows Ochaco, Kacchan, and the acquaintances he works with at the on-campus café. “I think it might be fun,” he decides finally. He’s always been a friendly and outgoing person, and while his English isn’t perfect, he doubts the person he gets paired up with will judge him for it. In all, it seems like a creative way to teach a class, and it really does seem like a nice change of pace.

***

“He’s still doing that stupid pen pal thing, huh?”

Kacchan is leaning against the counter of their kitchenette while Izuku works on drafting his pen pal note at the island counter. “Mm,” Izuku hums his affirmation.

“I had him last semester,” Kacchan grunts, turns back to the microwave where he’s waiting on his ramen. “Thought that assignment was kinda fuckin’ stupid.”

“Who was your pen pal?” Izuku asks, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. He’s drafted his first letter three times now, trying to make sure it has as little errors as possible while also trying not to have scribble marks and pencil erasings.

“Some guy named Hitoshi,” Kacchan shrugs. “He wasn’t all that good at English. I could barely understand what the hell he was trying to say half the time.” He peers over the counter, eyeing Izuku’s paper. “You used the wrong tense there,” he points after a moment, and Izuku groans and throws his head down.

“Why don’t you write it for me?” Izuku whines, turns his cheek so it presses against the counter and he can stare up at Kacchan with big puppy dog eyes. Kacchan just grumbles under his breath and turns away, irritation in his voice even when his words are unintelligible.

“I’m not doing that stupid ass project again,” Kacchan gripes. “Who’s your pen pal or whatever, anyway?”

Izuku blinks to try and focus his eyes on the paper that is much too close to his face to be able to read. Finally he sits up and rubs his eyes, glares down at the name he’s written at the top of the paper. “Todoroki Shouto,” he says.

“Oh, that guy?” Kacchan keeps his eyes on the microwave as it ticks down. “Should be fuckin’ delightful to talk to,” he teases.

“What’s wrong with Todoroki?” Izuku asks, means not to sound defensive but he always seems to get this way when Kacchan acts abrasive.

“I had him in my Japanese lit class last semester,” he explains with a wave of the hand. “He’s just like, the exact opposite of your type.”

Izuku’s ears redden at the tips. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” he says quickly, his voice jumping up a few pitches. “It’s a school assignment! Why would you think—”

“Deku,” Kacchan interrupts, stern and a little intimidating. “It’s been months. You’re getting irritable.”

“Am not!” Izuku shoots back, then covers his mouth. Kacchan just smirks, knowingly, as if those two words have proven him right, because they kind of have.

“Whatever you say,” Kacchan grunts, opens the microwave just before it beeps and takes out his bowl of ramen noodles. He grabs a set of chopsticks from the drawer and migrates to the couch in their tiny living space. The television drowns out whatever Kacchan’s grumbling under his breath, and Izuku doesn’t quite care to ask him to repeat himself because honestly, he’s a little scared of the answer he’ll receive. So he returns his attention back to the page in front of him.

It’s a simple note. Professor Yamada has given everyone a topic for their first letter, ordering the class to talk about what they’re going to school for and what classes they’re taking this semester. He’s told everyone it needs to be around fifty words long to get full credit, and that they’re not being graded on English accuracy so much as on participation. Izuku knows he doesn’t have to put as much thought and effort into it as he is right now, but he can’t help himself; he wants to sound smart. That’s his downfall, is that he doesn’t want his first impression to be terrible.

Dear Todoroki Shouto,

Hi! My name is Midoriya Izuku. I am just turned twenty and this is my third year attending Yuuei University. I study natural science, chemistry, and modern history also with English. I major in Engineering, but I do know not what I want to do with that degree. I live on campus and have one roommate. It is nice to meet you!

Wishing you the best,

Midoriya Izuku

By the time he’s finally settled on his letter, it’s nearing ten at night. He knows he’s taken a lot more time on this than probably anyone else has, but that’s just his personality – he never puts less than a hundred percent into anything. “Kacchan,” he calls through the dorm; he heard Kacchan get out of the shower twenty minutes or so ago now and he really needs someone who’s better at English to revise for him.

“Fuck off, trying to sleep,” Kacchan calls back, his voice muffled through his bedroom door. Izuku sighs, wonders if Ochaco is still awake.

She must be, considering when he grabs for his cell phone that he’d put on silent just before he began working he sees sixteen new text messages, the most recent of which being from eight minutes ago. He exhales and decides that, rather than responding to all sixteen messages, it might be easier to just call her, so he scrolls through his contacts and hits the button to video call.

She picks up after two rings. “Deku!” she cries, but she doesn’t really sound angry, which is unusual when Izuku’s missed so many of her messages. “You got paired up with Todoroki Shouto?!”

“Ah, yeah?” Izuku’s beginning to wonder if he’s the only one who has no idea who this guy is. “So what?”

“So what?!” Ochaco repeats, her voice shrill with the question. “So, he’s like one of the hottest guys on campus!”

Izuku flushes. “I don’t really see how that—”

“You totally need to get with him! You’re getting irritable, Deku!”

Izuku feels his ears reddening again. Is it really that obvious? he thinks hopelessly. “I’m not,” he replies, tries not to sound as irritable this time when he says it.

“Are too,” Ochaco sing-songs.

“I don’t even know what he looks like,” Izuku whines finally, throws his head down on the note. “Who did you get paired up with?”

“Iida Tenya,” she says after a moment. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” Izuku sits up again. “I work with him. We usually have the same shift at the café.”

“Oh! The tall guy with the glasses?”

Izuku nods, grateful that his topic change has been so successful. Ochaco seems to notice what he’s done a moment later though, because she’s scolding him in mumbles and all Izuku can catch is “you can’t fool me, Deku”.

“Can you help me review my note?” Izuku asks, remembering now his main reasoning for calling in the first place.

Ochaco sighs and rubs her temple in a gesture that’s meant to be teasing but feels almost genuine. “Sure, sure,” she says with a fatigued smile. “But only if you’ll help me with Chemistry.”

#tododeku #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #my hero academia #my hero fic #ao3 #coffee shop au #university au #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #yamayamawrites

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Witness : 3

Reminders

moodboard created by @chuuulip

Character(s): dark!Bucky, later dark!Steve, too

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. Some violence as well at the beginning. It goes without (and with) that this is 18+.

Summary: The reader builds a false sense of comfort. What will happen when it all comes crashing down?

Notes: I am reposting this fic here. It was originally on ao3 but now it’s on tumblr too! If you read, I love feedback and would love any comments you have. And if you can, please share! Anyhow, enjoy :)

It was easy enough to fall into the pattern of working in Stark Tower. It was probably the best job you had taken throughout your temp work. Free parking, free lunches, and a rather cushy chair. It was Wednesday and you were already mourning the end of this position. It had been much simpler than expected to forget about your paranoia and as you hadn’t even seen Tony Stark himself, you were content that you would not meet anyone of consequence by week’s end.

You had started your day like the two previous. Wake up, eat, drive to work, grab a coffee at the kiosk just outside, scan your clearance, settle in, and wait. The occasional visitor came to ask for directions or a question, but you found most patrons of Stark Tower knew where they were going and what they were doing. In fact, you were almost done the daily crossword.

You took a sip of your coffee, well on its way to disgustingly lukewarm, and leaned back in your chair. You nearly sputtered as you spotted a familiar head of dirty blond hair. Steve Rogers, no longer the clean-shaven First Avenger, was walking through the foyer. Since he had grown out his hair and added a thick beard, he looked much more sinister than his previous golden boy image. You guessed one’s outside matched their inside.

You quickly swivelled away from him, though he wasn’t even remotely close to your desk. In your distraction, you had drawn a line through the crossword in thick black pen. Goddamnit. You’d have to work around it. Your hand was shaking and you let go of the pen, letting it fall with a plastic bounce. It was nothing. You were fine. You looked at your watch and hissed. Still too early for a lunch. Maybe this was a sign that you should look like you’re doing actual work. You turned to your computer and clicked through your emails. Next week’s assignment would be in a call center. Luckily, you wouldn’t be a caller, you’d simply be the receptionist. Well, you may as well enjoy the luxury office chair while you can.

You sensed a shadow over you, not hearing the visitor as they had walked up on you. You looked up with smile which quickly froze halfway. It was the other man you had dreaded seeing. Thankfully he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, his metal hand was rested on your desk, fingers tapping upon its surface as he looked around the busy foyer. You stared at his artificial digits; how easy it would be for him reach over and crush your skull. You swivelled around and grabbed your coffee, drowning your nerves with caffeine, though you knew in the end that would only make it worse.

“Shit,” You heard Bucky rasp and you nearly choked. You wiped your lip with your sleeve, trying to act distracted by the papers in front of you. “Excuse me.” You could feel him leaning over the desk, “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother.”

“N-no, that’s what I’m here for,” You tried to put on your best customer service voice. “What can I h-help you with?” You cringed as your words were strangled by your rising fear.

“Have you seen a man around here? Dark blond hair, beard,” His real hand motioned to his own thick facial hair, “You might know him as Steve Rogers.”

“No,” You answered abruptly, “I haven’t seen him. Sorry.”

You turned back to your screen and re-read your next assignment. He hadn’t been rude in any way but he wasn’t supposed to be nice. He was a murderer. You felt him staring at you, just for a moment, before he turned away and sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll go find him.” He left you, his steps deafening even through the crowd of dozens of others. You glanced over to where his hand had been; it was as if you could still hear his finger tapping, crawling forward to choke the life from you. Fuck, you needed more coffee, you swore to yourself as you reached for you cold cup. You needed sleep.

You didn’t see them again. The last two days you spent with your head down, yawning into your collar as your nights were spent restless. Something about them being so close had rattled you. Yet, Bucky hadn’t seemed to recognize you. He had been completely careless outside of looking for his accomplice. Surely, it was all in your head, but you just couldn’t believe that.

You bid farewell to the comfy Stark office chair and handed in your credentials. You left the parking garage with a sense of freedom and longed for home. Perhaps tonight you would sleep. Knowing that you wouldn’t have to return and risk another close encounter with murderers. Another week down. Time made it a little more distant, a little easier to bear.

Yet sleep was not to come. That night or the next. Tossing and turning, little spurts of slumber, but nothing lasted more than an hour. You awoke endlessly in a start, cold sweat all over you, heart racing. The dark closed in until you were forced to switch on the lamp and try to doze in its glow. That didn’t work either.

Monday arrived and you ate your breakfast without tasting it. It would be nice to work in the call center, detached from the nucleus of the city; far from Stark Tower. You paranoia receded and you focused on the task ahead. You rinsed your dishes and dressed quickly. You locked your door and raced down the stairs, hopping in your car as your anxiety got the best of you. You were always nervous the first day of a placement. Traffic was frustrating and by the time you reached the call center, you were overtired and overwrought.

You were greeted by a manager as you emerged on the tenth floor and she showed you to your desk. It was placed in a small box with an open window through which you were to speak to potential employees arriving for their interviews and other visitors. As usual, your instructions awaited and a computer sat to your left. This one was much slower than that in Stark Tower, taking a whole twenty minutes to boot. It was all good and well as you flipped through the tabloid you found nestled in the drawer of the desk.

This job was less lively but you were afforded a Keurig drink whenever you wished and you were hidden enough to finish endless sudoku’s from the little book you stowed away in your work bag. Time passed like sand in a glass and when the end of the day came, you felt as if you had been there a week. The next day similarly bent the rules of time and by Wednesday, you were ready to be done with this placement. There was not enough to keep you busy. At times, you caught yourself staring through the window of your little booth, thinking about the puddle of blood, the body laying in it, the two figures with guns cocked and ready. This time, you caught the tear as it rolled down your nose. You hadn’t even known you had been crying.

You rushed to the washroom and locked yourself in, rinsing your face over the sink. Cold water would keep your eyes from getting puffy. You gripped the side of the sink and looked into the mirror. One moment, you would forget and be fine and then the next, it was as if it just happened. You wish you could talk to someone; anyone, but that would only ensure your own death. You couldn’t even tell Allie; you couldn’t put her in danger and you knew she wouldn’t believe you. She was your closest friend but she wasn’t the type to understand.

You glanced at your watch. Fifteen minutes left. Fifteen long minutes. You returned to your desk and focused on your breathing. Counted the minutes. When at last you were free, you packed up your bag and left without another look back. You needed something to help you sleep.

You pulled in at a liquor store a block before your apartment. Whiskey always made you sleepy. You would call the temp service tonight and tell them to find someone else for Thursday. You were going to drink until your eyes shut. You slipped the bottle wrapped in a paper bag inside your bigger leather one and started your car back up. It hesitated but it eventually kicked into gear.

As you climbed your apartment stairs, you clung to the railing. Your body was exhausted, but your mind refused to let it rest. You unlocked your door, kicking off your shoes in the dark as you passed into the main room; an open concept room which adjoined living room, dining room, and kitchen. An island separated the last from the other and you set down your bag on the counter. You flicked on the switch and turned to the fridge, searching for something to water down the alcohol.

“Trying to drink away the memory?” You stood upright as the voice stabbed into you. That you recognized it was even more frightening than the fact that there was someone else in your apartment. Your lip began to tremble but you quickly stopped it, letting the fridge door close as you turned back to peer into the living room where the lone figure sat. How long had he been waiting for you?

You couldn’t find your voice for all the questions racing through your mind and the fear which had formed a lump at the back of your throat. You merely stared in fright as Bucky Barnes sat in your armchair, legs spread confidently, a gun leaned upon the arm and aimed it at you. Your eyes focused on the barrel, waiting for it to spark.

“Go on. Pour one for both of us.” He instructed, the gun twitched as he gestured to the bottle neck sticking out of your bag.

You inhaled deeply, slowly reaching for the bottle. You took it out and removed the paper bag, setting it down with a clank on the countertop. Silence surrounded you, thick and dangerous. You turned and opened the cupboard, pulling forth two small glasses. At this point, it was better to drink it straight. You turned back and placed the glasses beside the bottle, shakily uncorking it and pouring a portion of whiskey in each. You cursed yourself for your transparent nerves. You replaced the lid and set the bottle back, daring to look up at Bucky.

“Well,” He nodded towards the glass. You lifted both of them and carefully rounded the counter, nearing him as you held one out. He took it with his free hand and sniffed at it. “Strong,” He commented, “Come on, sit.”

He stared at you as you hesitated. You pulled out a stool from the island and sat across from him. He raised his glass as if to toast you and he drank, letting out a hiss as he retired his glass on the table beside him. Your hand was shaking as you raised your own glass, draining it slowly as you let it burn your throat, tears rising to your eyes.

He leaned on the arm which held the gun and reached into his pocket, pulling forth a cell phone and fiddled with the screen. He offered it to you, waiting for you to set aside your glass and step down off the stool to take it. You climbed back up on the stool and hit the triangle which initiated the clip. “Let’s not start by pretending we don’t know why I’m here,” He said as you watched the black and white footage.

The camera angle clearly showed the scene you had witnessed between him, Steve, and the dealer they had murdered. After the gunshot went off, the camera switched and showed you, only minutes later, fleeing from behind the pillar. You cringed and dropped the phone.

“If I were not so diligent in reviewing the footage, I would never have known. Of course, no one else has seen this; its mysteriously been corrupted and all that,” He smirked, “Please, try to keep breathing. I’m not finished with you yet.” You let out the breath you had been subconsciously holding. Your face must have been changing colour. “Your license plate was easy enough to track but I never expected you to stumble right into Stark Tower. That was a pleasant surprise. Admittedly, I should have killed you then. Right after work on the way to your car. Almost a poetic end. Ironic, if anything.”

“So, you are going to kill me?” You forced out, “Because I’d rather you just got it over with. I’ve suffered long enough.” He smiled as you spoke, as if amused that you had a voice.

“I weighed the option. Admittedly, it was my first thought, but if I’d settled on that, you’d not have made it past your kitchen.” You stared at him; somehow even more frightened as he confessed that he did not intend to kill you. Yet. “Come here,” He gestured the gun before him, “Just here. In front of me.” You slowly slipped from the stool, nearing him, ready for him to shoot you at any moment. You couldn’t be sure he wasn’t playing for you. “Right there.” He stopped you from coming closer, “Turn around. Let me have a look.”

You felt flames licking at you flesh, your eyes nearly popping out as you stared back at him. You willed yourself to obey, the movement jagged and difficult. “Mmm.” The sound was that of appraisal. As you came back to face him, he smirked again. “I live a life of practicality. Utilitarian, if you would. Everything, and everyone, has their use. If they do not, then why keep them around?” You stepped back, unsettled by the spark in his eye. “You see, I realized over these last weeks, that you may just be useful. That being the reason you're still alive.”

You were in disbelief. You understood his meaning, but you didn’t. Surely, he couldn’t be serious. He was a murderer, sure, but something about his inference was so outlandish. It was disgusting; vile; a fate almost as bad as death. Almost. Because deep down you knew you were so afraid of him firing that gun that you would accept it. Whatever it was he was saying. Whatever it was you were trying to deny.

“Do you understand me, Y/N?” He asked. Your name on his lips terrified you.

“I--I think,” You rasped. You were out of breath as if he had struck you in the chest.

“And you don’t want to die, right? So I would guess that you won’t resist me? Or try anything?” You were certain you were going to faint. You stumbled back and braced the stool for support. You nodded, unable to make your tongue work.

“Alright,” He rose and holstered his gun. He neared and bent to retrieve the phone you had dropped on the floor. He inspected it and slipped it into his pocket. “Unfortunately, I do have other plans tonight, but I expect that you will be ready for my next visit. You will have come to accept this arrangement.” He reached inside his jacket and took out an envelope, “You will keep your mouth shut and do as I say.” He held out the envelope but you only stared. He reached down and took your hand, pressing the thick packet into it. “You will not try anything stupid, because I will know and you may not be so useful to me anymore.” He released your hand and grinned, reaching out to brush a stray lock from your face. “I’ll be seeing you soon.” He promised before backing away. You watched him as he disappeared down the hallway and the door open and closed in his stead.

You looked to the envelope in your hand and turned back to the counter. You opened the flap cautiously and took out the stack of photos within. You spread out each along the counter; each one was a frame of you; going to work, grocery shopping, getting coffee...a rare moment of sleep in your bed. The last made your heart seize. You stepped away, gripping your head as you walked in circles. You were shaking and you wanted to scream. You neared the counter and swept the photos onto the floor with a yell. You took the whiskey and poured another glass for yourself. You lifted the glass to the light, examining the brown liquid as it refracted within. You inhaled and braced yourself for the fiery alcohol; the third and fourth glasses following much easier.

#dark!Bucky #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #au #darkvers #witness #series

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izzy-b-hands · 5 years

Text

Every Road Leads to an End, Pt. 1

Y’all had to know this was coming at some point lol. My first Kingsman fic, this one in particular set Post-Golden Circle. I’ve got a lot more planned, for this time period plus during each movie and in between, but for now, I think this is a good start.

A forewarning that I’m taking canon and making it what I want, because while I love the movies dearly, there’s also a good number of things I’d have maybe done differently, or at least messed about with and considered changing. For one, the little pup Eggsy gets Harry in Golden Circle? He’s around again, because I wanted to know what happened to the puppy. I named him PJ, for Pickle, JR (after dear Mr. Pickle.)

So, here that is!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“You texted me, and I quote, ‘Major emergency, come quickly.’ This-”

“Is an emergency,” Harry finished.

Eggsy stared down at PJ, who was wagging his tiny tail happily. “This is dog-sitting. I thought there was a mission, and I’m only supposed to be called back in the event of that or-.”

“There is, this!”

“Okay, and where are you off to then? If there isn’t a mission, aside from watching your dog,” Eggsy asked as he picked up PJ.

“I...have a date.”

“You have...where did you meet...I have so many questions,” Eggsy said.

“And they will have to wait; I am already late. Thank you for arriving so promptly, instructions are on the fridge regarding PJ’s dinner and bedtime, and I’ve left you money for your dinner,” Harry was like a bullet on track to its target, walking fast enough Eggsy could hardly keep up as he followed him to his bedroom.

“Oi! Now I get to ask at least one question before you go.”

“Fine, one. Then I need to finish dressing; I cannot find the right color pocket square I need-”

“I’ll help you find it if you answer,” Eggsy interrupted. “Where’d you meet her?”

“Him.”

“Okay, him. Where was it? I mean, you’re something of a homebody, when you aren’t working-”

“I am not,” Harry scoffed, and turned to rifle through the pile of folded pocket squares tossed on his bed. “I do things.”

“You texted me a week ago, and I quote-”

“That is quite enough of my quotes, I think.”

“You keep interrupting like that; I’ll just find more of them. Anyway, as I was saying, you said ‘lots of excitement tonight, saw a fox in the garden.’ I mean...Harry.”

“Are you going to help me find it, or not? I need the same shade of salmon as my tie, and I’ve found every other shade under the bloody sun, and I even sort these by shade, I’ll have you know, and,” Harry sighed and tossed a handful of squares back onto the bed.

“You’re nervous!”

“I have been in situations far worse than a first date; I am not made nervous by this,” Harry shook his head, and shuffled through another bunch of squares.

“You are absolutely a nervous wreck, oh my God. This is adorable! Look at your dad, PJ. I have never seen you like this.”

Harry sighed again, clearly exasperated, and turned to Eggsy.

“Put the face away, I’ll help. Now, don’t get mad, but could you just wear a different color tie, that matches one of the squares we know are here and ready to be worn?”

The kiss on the cheek wasn’t expected, but it was sweet. “Eggsy! Genius! I’ll change it straightaway, then-ooh, I’m going to be even later! I don’t have an excuse for that, we had a reservation and everything...”

“Tell him I was late showing up. I don’t mind taking the blame,” Eggsy bit back a giggle as Harry whirled past him to another drawer. “Would I know him, if I saw him?”

Harry stopped dead.

“Harry?”

He turned again, a new silk light green tie in his hand. “I can’t...I will tell you. All of it, later. I promise you that. This is also, technically, a mission. That turned into more, and if anyone else with Kingsman or Statesman found out it had, the trouble we would be in.”

“So he works for Statesman?”

“No.”

“He works for us?”

“Eggsy, please,” Harry sighed desperately as he switched ties. “Like I said, I will tell you everything, later. Once things are more...solid.”

“As in your relationship with him, or the mission?” Eggsy asked as he set down PJ, and swatted Harry’s hand away from the tie. “You’ve got it all crooked, hang on. And is the mission to...you know?”

“Eggsy!”

“Just checking! Even if it isn’t, I mean, I can spend the night here with PJ. I’m already the ‘Prince That’s Never Seen’ to the Swedish media. Won’t be any issue if I’m not home for a day or two, and I let Tilde know it might be a few days, depending on what was going on. So, you know. If things happen...let them happen. Have some fun. Safe fun, I mean, actually, do you have-”

Harry was bright red as he snatched up the matching pocket square and his coat from his bed, and strode out of the bedroom with Eggsy and PJ on his heels.

“Oh, look at him blush! PJ, your dad is gonna have a wonderful night, isn’t he?”

PJ barked in response, wiggling as Eggsy picked him up again.

“Yes, he is, and then he’s going to tell us all about it when he gets back,” Eggsy continued, even as Harry spluttered half-protests, sighing and shaking his head as he walked out the front door.

Without any shoes on.

“Give him a minute,” Eggsy told PJ, who stared up curiously at him. “He’ll realize in one, two, three, and-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Harry spat as he stomped back inside, struggling on with his shoes before heading back out, one oxford still untied.

“That’s a lad,” Eggsy smiled. “C’mon PJ. I think you deserve your dinner, and I will order mine, and then I think a movie is in order. We’ll find something with a dog in it, just for you.”

It wasn’t long before they were settled on the couch; PJ fed and a pizza box open on the coffee table, and the closest thing Eggsy could find for ‘something with dogs’ (an episode of Planet Earth) on the TV for PJ.

Then his phone buzzed with a text alert.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Advice?

Eggsy frowned at the text from Harry. Text were strictly for non-Kingsman, and non-confidential and/or coded Kingsman business. This, however, wasn’t code for anything that he knew of.

Is one of the things the guy you’re seeing? And if so, what is the other thing?

He could hear Harry’s frustration in the reply.

No! Not exactly. He invited me over, but he knows we’d both be in trouble if anyone knew about this; no one is even supposed to know he’s alive!!

That many exclamation points signaled a show of proper emotion from Harry, whatever this was, it was deeply serious to him. But it was hard to advise when he only had not even a quarter of the story. He sent back his biggest question.

Who?????!!!!!!

For about five minutes, there was nothing, and he almost set his phone back down on the coffee table. Then:

Merlin.

“Fucking hell,” Eggsy murmured. “And how in the hell? There’s no way...somebody has to be fucking with him, which means who knows what he’s gotten himself into now.”

He sighed, and bemoaned that he had left his luggage at his hotel, rather than bringing it with. There wouldn’t be enough time to get it, change into a suit, and try and configure Harry’s location so he could get there.

Unless.

He hadn’t ever actually spent a night in Harry’s guest room, but Harry had always assured him it was supplied for him, should he and Tilde ever need a place to stay. Searching it proved just that: three suits with varying colors of ties and other accouterments for him, and three matching dresses and pants suits for Tilde, plus three tiny matching jackets that would have fit JB.

“PJ, you hold down the fort, yeah? You’re a big boy now, I think I can trust you,” Eggsy said as he finished putting in his cuff links and pulled on his jacket, watching as PJ settled down on the couch with a sigh, his grey wiry fir blending into the dark material. “I’m gonna go make sure your dad makes it home, and when we get back, we’ll have that leftover pizza. I’ll make sure he lets you have a little, promise.”

From there, he was on his own. His watch and glasses let him track Harry somewhat, but wherever he was, he was on the move. With whoever this impostor Merlin was, surely, and that was who he really wanted to track. But even if this Merlin was using any Kingsman or Statesman tech, he wasn’t registering on any of Eggsy’s gear.

He got as close as an Italian restaurant, dropped off by a non-Kingsman cab, if only so as not to arouse Harry or the faux-Merlin’s suspicions if they were near enough to see it. There, outside of it, the dot representing Harry had stopped. Or so it seemed to have, finally, though at no point had the dot gone into the restaurant, leaving him wondering where on earth the actual dinner had been, and why on earth Harry was stumbling around in the dark with the faux-Merlin.

There were a few dark alleyways just near the restaurant. A small chance to be sure, too easy if anything. But as he wandered down the first, the blip of Harry’s dot on the map superimposed over his glasses got louder and louder and-

“Jesus,” Eggsy ducked behind a bin, then peeked back out over it.

Up against a nearby wall in the alley were Harry, and what for all the world looked like Merlin, kissing hard and utterly unaware of anything else going on around them, apparently, since he hadn’t exactly been quiet as he’d ducked away.

“If I’m wrong,” Eggsy whispered to himself, then shook his head. Even if this was somehow real, Merlin had somehow survived the land mine and was safe and back, it was better to check, to interrupt and know for sure.

“Let him go,” he stood and pulled his pistol, pointing it at the possibly faux Merlin.

“I think he’d rather I didn’t,” and god it sounded like Merlin. “Harry, did you not tell him?”

“I was going to, later,” Harry hissed, and whipped around. “Put that down! What on earth are you doing?”

“Not many men could survive a land mine. Fewer still could survive it, and be repaired well enough to go into hiding afterwards. So if you really are Merlin, and if you are...know that I am sorry for all this, but I’ve got to have answers. As of right now, I have no proof you aren’t some...double, hell bent on doing God knows what with Harry-”

“Hell bent on doing something with him, that’s for sure,” Merlin murmured and giggled, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “If you’re still up for it, after we explain things and send Eggsy on home.”

Harry sighed and pushed himself away from Merlin. “Look. I-I should have just told you everything straight away. I know you, and you’re a good agent. And a good agent would have done just as you’re doing now. It’s just...I mean, this was a date!”

“Still is,” Merlin called from the wall. “This isn’t quite how I saw it going, no, and I certainly didn’t think Eggsy would be involved, but this doesn’t ruin the night or anything.”

“Oh my God,” Harry muttered, and pushed his glasses up as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Eggsy lowered his gun. “Well?”

“Tell you what,” Merlin said, striding forward. “You both come back to mine, for now. We can explain things, then Eggsy, you can go back home feeling that all is well-”

“To Harry’s, actually. I was dog sitting,” Eggsy interrupted before stowing his gun away.

“Right, back to Pickles, JR, then, knowing that all is well and Harry is safe,” Merlin continued. “And Harry, if you’d like, well...”

“I could just about die right now. And I’ve never said that about anything,” Harry sighed.

“Dramatic, outside of work, isn’t he?” Merlin snickered as he led them out of the alley and down the sidewalk. “Part of why I asked him out, you know. Nice to get to see the man under the agent again. Don’t get me wrong, I love the agent, but I liked the man first.”

“Makes sense,” Eggsy replied, giggling as Harry blushed ever more red, trailing just behind them. “So, did you two ever...before this, I mean?”

“That’s a lot of old history to be getting into,” Merlin smiled. “Maybe a bit too much for tonight, but later on, perhaps-”

“Oh my God,” Harry muttered again.

“Think I should take the overuse of that phrase as a good sign for later?” Merlin asked with a positively wicked grin.

“MERLIN!”

Eggsy and Merlin fell against each other in a fit of laughter as Harry sighed deeply yet again.

He calmed once they were in Merlin’s house though, his coat off and tossed onto the couch as if he lived there, and Eggsy half-wondered as they settled onto it.

“So. I’ll make a long story short, so you can get back to PJ, and we can get back to...other things,” Merlin said. “I did survive the mine, but barely. And I very nearly didn’t survive the jungle, because my tracker didn’t click on again to let Ginger Ale know I was still kicking until you all had already left.”

“How the hell did you survive?”

Merlin shrugged. “I shouldn’t have, Eggsy. Chalk that one up to dumb luck, perhaps. That, and Ginger Ale, or should I say now, Agent Whiskey’s fantastic medical research and work with prosthetics.”

Eggsy gestured to Merlin’s legs. “I have to admit, I was curious.”

“Amazingly built prosthetics, all thanks to Agent Whiskey. She assembled a team to get me out, get me to Kentucky, and get me healed and well again. And she would have told you and Harry both right away, but-”

“It wasn’t assured he would survive,” Harry interrupted. “And so I asked them not to say anything to you at that time. I didn’t want you to lose him twice. I figured it, rather selfishly, I admit, that it would be enough for me to lose him twice.”

“But you didn’t,” Merlin said softly, grabbing Harry’s hand. “I’m right here, not going anywhere.”

Harry only nodded, but Eggsy could see his fingers tighten around Merlin’s.

“With you still not knowing I was alive, and my continued survival not assured at that point, I was put into a sort of hiding. Kept in Kentucky, under Statesman medical care and guard. I remain under their guard now, to some degree, and not Kingsman guard because, well-” Merlin shrugged. “Kingsman is still rebuilding. We have Agent Tequila here, and Harry, and yourself as a reserve agent, but that isn’t much. And there’s concern that some of the guards I tried to take out with me are still out there, and might be looking for me.”

“Didn’t they find them all? Or all the pieces of them, I guess,” Eggsy asked.

“Enough...pieces to make up all the bodies except for two. We might have presumed they were just truly blown to smithereens, until certain messages started to arrive at various locations, specifically the rubble of the Kingsman HQ and your old home, Eggsy. Agent Whiskey was the one who suggested surveillance on those locations and a few others after I was recovered from the field, and thank goodness she did. We might never have seen them until it was too late, otherwise.”

“Too late?”

“Attacks,” Harry said. “On Statesman HQ, specifically trying to get to the medical ward. One got damned close too. No identifiable information on them, except that everything done to erase their identity was similar to what Poppy had done to her cronies. Erased fingerprints, filed down teeth, all that. But since we know Poppy is dead, that tells us nothing. And the henchman that we thought died when the land mine went off weren’t identifiable either, not even the pieces of the dead ones. So figuring out who the live ones are, if they are alive, and where they are...”

“Damn near impossible, until another attack, which hasn’t happened because you’ve been kept under guard here. And that’s why no one was supposed to know you’re alive,” Eggsy finished.

“And why this,” Harry sighed, picking up Merlin’s hand and kissing it, “is so very risky. If anything happened as a result of me, I swear-”

“I know, and I’m willing to take the risk,” Merlin interrupted. “Anyone would for someone they love. Eggsy would for Tilde, essentially does being married while being an agent, right Eggsy?”

Eggsy nodded. “Harry. You shouldn’t deny yourself this, happiness, just because of the risk. There’s always going to be something, you know? Life just isn’t that easy, that safe...especially for us. Tilde and I, we know the risk, and we both accept it to be together. If you and Merlin feel the same...why not go for it?”

The look Harry was giving Merlin gave Eggsy his out. “And, that said, I think maybe my portion of the evening is complete, and the portion with you two is uh...yeah. I’m gonna head out, go back and let PJ have the bit of pizza I promised him, and then turn in for the night, and you two aren’t even paying attention to a word I’m saying right now.”

They certainly didn’t seem to be, again concerned only with each other and kissing and the fussing about with Harry’s tie, which was plenty for Eggsy to see.

“I mean good for ‘em, you know?” he told PJ as they snuggled on the couch, his suit hung back up in the guest room of Harry’s house, the pizza warmed up for a late night/early morning snack. “But...bit like watching your parents snog, you know? Like, they’re adults, consenting and all that and isn’t like that...urge disappears as you age, I just. It was time for me to not see anymore. You get it, right, PJ?”

PJ whimpered, and snuggled in closer. He was laid out on Eggsy’s chest, and very nearly had his cold nose poking Eggsy’s chin as he moved closer and closer.

“Aw. You just miss your dad, don’t you? Well, never fear, he’ll be home in the morning. Er, later morning, considering the time. Dads have to have their fun too, and in the meantime you’ve got me!”

Eggsy flicked off the TV and closed his eyes, listening to PJ’s soft breathing as he finally fell asleep.

And then his watch buzzed on his wrist.

He carefully moved his arm, to not disturb PJ, and looked at the alert.

ALL KINGSMAN AND STATESMAN AGENTS, REPORT TO NEAREST HQ LOCATION IMMEDIATELY. AGENT COMPROMISATION HAS OCCURRED.

#text post #LeeH writes #kingsman fic #harry hart x merlin #not sure what else to tag rn #so lemme know if y'all want others added!#I'll figure out the tagging as I write the next part of this and the other fics I have in mind lol #eggsy is here too of course #like there's gonna be multiple plot threads of Harry and Merlin and stuff with Eggsy going on plus major Spy Problems #so I'll add tags in as we add in more threads lol

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celestial-ringleader · 6 years

Text

Tease

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: The Greatest Showman

Pairing: PT Barnum/Phillip Carlyle

Summary: They normally spent their evenings this way, but as for Phillip, he had other plans in mind for how the rest of it should go.

Phineas decides to relent his control for just one evening.

This was beta’d by @schizanthusim and loosely inspired by one of @hughbyjackman‘s fics on Ao3

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441354

Read below the cut, be wary of the rating:

The hour was late and after a long, stressful day, Phineas and Phillip finally had a moment to wind down. The room was quiet aside from their soft breaths and the occasional snarky comment. Phillip was, as usual, sucked into his favorite book, “Pride and Prejudice” (which he had read five times over by now) while laying across his partner’s lap; Phineas, meanwhile, was sketching down one of the many new ideas he had going through his head that day, his expression calm, yet neutral, as he focused on the paper. They normally spent their evenings this way, but as for Phillip, he had other plans in mind for how the rest of it should go. Phillip looked up at his partner, his expression relaxed and focused as he drew absentmindedly on his sketchpad.

“Phin?”

“Hm?” Phineas hummed, not looking up from his drawing, “What is it, darling?”

Phillip blushed from the nickname. “I was just thinking...” He didn’t know exactly how to word it, but continued, “How would you feel if I were to take the lead tonight?” he closed his book with a quiet thump,

Phineas’ hand froze for a moment, looking down at Phillip on his lap. “And why is that?” he tried to act nonchalant, but Phillip saw the visible tension of his muscles,

Phillip shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, really, I just thought after a while of being the one on bottom we should switch it up for once-”

“I don’t want to discuss this, Phillip, that’s final,” Phineas cut in, going back to sketching,

“Come on, Phineas, live a little,” Phillip huffed indignantly, sitting up and using Phineas’ own words against him, “You don’t seem to have a problem pounding me into the mattress every other night, why shouldn’t I get a chance?” Phillip sounded a bit more whiny than he had originally anticipated. “Besides, we both should have a chance to explore each other, no?”

“It’s complicated, okay?” Phineas spoke quickly, setting his sketchpad off to the side. “Just drop it, Flip.”

“Why? I would think we’ve been together long enough, besides it’s not like you’re inexperienced-” Phillip stopped, the gears began to turn in his head. “Wait, are you a-?”

“No. No . Don’t get any ideas.” Phineas pointed at him, his face turning pink.

“Phin, are you saying you’ve never-”

“Shut up! I’m not, I just haven’t- I mean-”

“You’re telling me that you, PT Barnum, are a virgin?”

“Phillip!” Phineas covered his face with a pillow. “Don’t say it so blatantly like that,” he added quietly

“There’s no shame in it, dearest.” Phillip sat up, placed the book on the bedside drawer, and moved to sit beside Phineas, carefully moving the pillow from his face. “I mean, I was before I met you, after all.”

“It’s different, okay?” Phineas leaned back against the bed frame. “There’s a reason I haven’t relented control with any of my other partners I’ve had in the past.”

Phillip moved to sit on Phineas’ lap, their eyes locking. “You were waiting for the right person, weren’t you?” he said with a grin,

Phineas narrowed his eyes at him. “Maybe I am, but I stand by my own morals.”

“No, no, it’s very admirable, actually.” Phillip cupped his cheeks, bringing their foreheads together. “So, who’s to say I’m not the right person, I feel I’m more than qualified since we’re engaged.”

Phineas wrapped his arms around Phillip’s waist, his eyes closing. “I know, but..”

“You deserve a good first time, as much as mine was. Besides, being on the receiving end, at least in my honest opinion, is the best place to be in.” Phillip combed his fingers through Phineas’ hair, pulling on it slightly.

After a moment of quiet thinking, Phineas eventually relented, letting out a deep breath, conceding defeat with a quiet “Okay, okay, just...” He paused, covering his face. “Be slow with me, alright?” His face warmed up again. “But don’t hold back because of my lack of experience,” he added.

Phillip smiled, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips, “But of course, ringmaster. ”

Phineas knew immediately he was in for it, his heart already beginning to beat fast in his chest.

------

At first, it was small touches, dark promises whispered fervidly in his ear, slowly breaking down the ringmaster’s resolve until he was putty in Phillip’s hands, allowing himself to be moved and manipulated to Phillip’s will. It wasn’t long before Phineas grew incredibly aroused despite his previous anxiety.

“Want to try a personal favorite of mine?” Phillip cooed in his ear, his hands kneading the flesh of Phineas’ thighs hungrily.

Phineas gave him a quick nod, his sensibility slowly slipping out of his grasp as he clung to Phillip’s shirt.

Phillip chuckled in response, kissing him on the lips again, reaching his hand towards the bottom-most drawer, pulling out the red silk ropes normally used on himself. Phineas swallowed a lump in his throat, but couldn’t deny the flare of heat within him.

Phillip tied up Phineas’ wrists -- which of course Phineas didn’t mind, in fact it only turned him on more -- to the metal bed frame. Phillip watched with a delighted grin as his partner weakly pulled against the ropes. Phillip rose off the bed with a devilish smirk on his face, promising he would be back. After what felt like hours later, Phillip returned half naked, wearing only his trousers and a confident grin, carrying a black riding crop. Phineas’ eyes widened at the sight of it, watching as Phillip approached him with the power and ferocity of a caged lion, moving the crop in his hand, chuckling derisively as he noticed Phineas’ eyes following it. The ringmaster couldn’t even fathom how Phillip could have gotten his hands on one of them, but any logical reasoning left when Phillip laid his hands on him.

Phineas’ cock twitched in his now uncomfortably tight trousers as Phillip sat across from him, bringing the head of the crop slowly down from his chest towards his waistband. Phillip kept it there for a while before bringing it up to Phineas’ cheek, tapping it lightly with a chuckle.

Phineas’ entire body shivered, his eyes fluttered shut as he pulled against the restraints, but to no avail.

Phillip chuckled once again. “You want me, ringmaster? ” he paused, leaning closer to Phineas, crawling along the bed until he was between Phineas’ slightly spread legs. “Do you want me to ruin you? Have you whining and writhing under me?” He teased the crop along Phineas’ inner thigh. “I’m sure you would love that, wouldn’t you~?”

Phineas could only muster a soft whimper, his hips rolling. Phillip tsked, leaning into his ear.

“Use your words, darling ~”

Phineas opened his mouth, but no sound came out, his eyes still closed. Phillip frowned and, in a sudden movement, smacked Phineas’ thigh hard . Phineas moaned out loud, his body tensed up tighter than a trapeze cord before he finally managed to slur out, “Y-yes! Please- fuck, Phil!” A few hours ago, Phineas wouldn’t believe how far gone he would become under Phillip’s touch, but that part of him had long since been silenced by another slap on his thigh, this time by the crop.

“So needy, ringmaster, but I don’t think you want it enough yet~” Phillip reached down to his pocket, pulled out a cloth, and wrapped it around Phineas’ mouth to gag him. “Looks like we’ll have to wait. I don’t mind the wait, but I’m not so sure of impatient little ringmasters~”

Phineas gave him a pleading look, but it quickly became one of pleasure when the crop grazed on the bulge in his pants, his legs shaking as they came apart. He moaned into his gag, whining for more, his back folded into an arch as he pulled against the ropes with a little more strength.

Phillip leaned down onto Phineas’ neck, kissing and biting down on it, groaning in his throat as he moved the crop in quicker circles on Phineas. Phillip slowly started to undo the ringmaster’s shirt, just enough to expose his chest. Phineas rocked his hips down, trying to get more friction on his throbbing cock, still fully clothed. A layer of sweat formed on his brow, his face growing warmer and warmer by the second. The moment he felt remotely close, it was absolute bliss as he tried bringing himself closer, spreading his legs as far as they could go-- which was pretty far --begging through his gag, mumbling a chant of yesyesyes . However, once he felt on that edge, Phillip lifted the crop off of him, pulling back to watch as Phineas crumbled, whining loudly as he backed away from that edge, much to his growing frustration. Precome had wettened his pants, leaving a dark spot. He gulped in air and his eyes fluttered open, looking at Phillip through his lashes.

Phillip smiled with false sweetness as he brought the crop back down onto his clothed cock, continuing to move it in circles until he saw Phineas teeter on the edge once again, then denied him once again, watching him squirm and writhe on the bed.

It went on like this for what felt like hours, days even. Phineas was reduced to a sweaty, moaning mess, the gag wettening with his own saliva. He looked nothing like the man with all the bravado and confidence, the man who would parade around the ring and stride like a charismatic peacock. He was only Phillip’s toy, an object to fulfill his fantasies, a mindless form balancing right on the edge of that blissful precipice which continuously has been denied him.

Phineas felt he could pass out at any moment, the heat of his own body on top of the undying need to come made him lightheaded. He wasn’t even aware that Phillip had discarded the crop and settled between his legs, kneading the flesh of his thighs. Phillip reached out, removing the gag with a small, “ You’re absolutely beautiful, dearest ~”

Phineas looked up at his partner, a small whine coming from him as he rocked his hips down weakly, “Pl-please…”

Phillip gave him a smile of mock sweetness, cupping his cheek, pleased to see Phineas lean into it. “Well, who am I to deny that~?” He starts to undo Phineas’ trousers, pulling them down until they were below his knees, exposing his aching cock.

Phineas shivered at the feeling of the cool air on his cock and sighed deeply at the feeling of it being freed from his constricting pants. He trembled as Phillip’s hand explored his inner thigh while the other reached to pull a small jar of oil from the bedside drawer, not breaking eye contact with him. Phillip pulled him into a gentle kiss, moaning into his mouth as he clumsily removed the cap.

The younger man leaned back, smirking as he coated three fingers with the oil, setting the bottle down on the drawer. He folded over Phineas’ body, pressing against him as his teeth grazed one of the bruises he’d left on the ringmaster’s tanned skin.

Phineas made a breathless sound as he feels one of Phillip’s wet fingers circle around his tight ring of flesh, his legs tensing up. Phillip grabbed Phineas’ hip to keep him in place, shushing him gently as he slowly pushed his middle finger past the tight pucker.

Phineas felt he could come just from that, but he wanted so much more. Once Phineas started to acclimate to the feeling, he rocked his hips down in time with Phillip’s hand, his head rolling back and to the side. His head spun once he felt Phillip press in a second finger, igniting a hot, molten desire dripping down his hips as he rocked quicker. Phillip leaned in and bit at Phineas’ throat, then kissing the spot until it bruised, making yet another mark appear on him, claiming him. Phineas’ eyes began to water once he felt a third finger push in, thrusting in and out quickly, opening him wide, wider than he had ever felt before.

All the while, Phillip whispered to him, calling him beautiful, perfect, amazing as he thrust his hand quicker, his own growing need becoming apparent. Phineas beamed at the praise, groaning loud in his throat. Phillip promised he would never feel anything as good as this, how his body was made to be ruined, how well he took his hand, wondering how well he would take his cock.

Phineas moaned high and loud, his stomach and thighs tight with anticipation. He whimpered when Phillip completely withdrew, his hole flexing around nothing, he suddenly felt so empty. Phillip growled in his throat as he forced yet another passionate kiss onto Phineas, his hand reaching out for the discarded bottle while the other clumsily pulled down his own trousers down to mid-thigh. Phillip pulled back from the kiss, sitting back on his heels as he dumped most of the bottle onto his hand then started to jerk his cock slowly, making sure it was suitably coated, keeping his eyes on Phineas as he watched the older man follow the glide of his hand.

Once he felt it was good enough, he folded back over Phineas, kissing him again as he lined up his cock to Phineas’ wet hole.

Phillip pulled back to look at Phineas, their faces inches apart as he whispered, “Ready?”

Phineas nodded frantically, opening his legs up, pulling on the ropes. “ Yes. ”

Phillip smirked, then, achingly slow, started to push himself in. All the air was forced from Phineas’ lungs, no sounds escaped him as he felt himself being stretched unbelievably wide, his hips rolling to take it all. Phillip made a small whimpering sound as he felt the tight, velvet heat sheath his cock in slow increments, sending his head into a whirlwind, his vision tunneling around Phineas. Their hips connected with a lewd, wet slap, followed by the both of them moaning softly.

Phineas was tense beneath Phillip, he felt so complete and so overwhelmed all at once, he swore he felt like he was flying and falling at the same time. Phillip pulled back with a sharp exhale, trying to regain his composure, staring down at his partner. He kissed his cheek and temple, whispering soothing words in his ear:

“That’s it, Phin, you feel so g-good around me, so warm and tight~” he mumbled. “Don’t worry it’ll start to feel good soon.” He paused. “How are you feeling?”

Phineas let out a puff of air, rocking his hips slightly, wrapping his strong thighs around Phillip. “F-full... l-like I’m lost in space... pl-please just give it to me, Phil...” Phineas whined, turning his head to press his warm cheek against Phillip’s. “I want you so badly...”

Phillip smiled against his cheek, staying painfully still until he felt Phineas beginning to relax. “I’m going to start moving, okay?”

Phineas nodded, but before he could even mutter out an “okay”, Phillip was slowly pulling out and back in again, one of his hands going to Phineas’ hip while the other threaded through his wavy hair. Soon after, he set a regular rhythm, moving his hips sensually, pushing his cock in as deep as it could get, forcing small sounds from him.

Phineas started to roll his hips in time with Phillip, matching his pace perfectly, taking him so willingly, moaning out his name through his whimpering. It wasn’t long before Phillip started to move quicker, chasing his incoming orgasm, pounding into Phineas, a lewd slap echoing through the room after every thrust followed by a loud moan from the disheveled ringmaster.

Phineas couldn’t hardly tell what sounds he was making anymore, his whole world contracted to Phillip thrusting into him like he was in a rut, fucking him as if he needed it to live, taking Phineas completely and wholly. Phineas wanted so badly to reach around and grab Phillip’s back, pull his hair, mark his back with his nails, feel the way his spine moved as he pounded roughly into him. Instead he could only struggle, biting his lip to try and suppress his sounds only to fail miserably.

Phillip’s face turned a million degrees warmer as he felt himself approaching his edge, groaning and slurring out sweet nothings to Phineas, trying to coax himself closer. He leaned away, putting his hands behind Phineas’ knees, pushing them up and apart, angling himself down on Phineas, fucking him deeper and harder.

Phineas’ nails dug into the ropes as Phillip’s cock grazed something in him, causing his whole world to turn white for a moment as he moaned pleadingly. “ A-again! Th-there! ” he shouted, rolling his hips desperately.

Phillip knew he had struck that spot in Phineas and immediately started to pound on it, gulping in air, muttering a soft “ Come on Phin, that’s it, come on, come for me .” He looked down at Phineas, admiring how much of a mess he looked in that moment: his eyes were glassy from pleasure, his cheeks a deep red as sweat beaded his brow, his features contorted in ecstasy as high and loud sounds slip past his parted lips.

A few more strokes later and Phineas tensed up tight, trapping Phillip’s cock in his warm heat as he came hard with a loud moan, the sound echoing off the ceiling, his hips moving feverishly through his orgasm, his whole world going white for a moment. When his vision recovered, he only saw Phillip slumped on top of him, moaning in his ear as he came as well, his arms wrapping around his torso as he gulped in air like he was drowning in his own pleasure.

Phineas rested his head against the pillow, his body going limp as he basked in the afterglow, his head rolling to rest against Phillip’s.

After a few minutes of simply lying there, Phillip sat up, reaching for a stray cloth on the drawer, wiping Phineas’ chest clean, not making a move to pull out just yet. He leaned down to kiss Phineas on the lips, languid and sluggish but still tender at the same time. Phineas returned it with a sigh.

Phillip reached to undo the ropes around Phineas’ wrists. Phineas immediately wrapped his arms around Phillip, nuzzling his face on his chest. Phillip ran his hand through Phineas’ messy hair, pressing another soft kiss on his forehead.

“Shall I draw a bath?”

Phineas shook his head, exhaling slowly. “Can we lie here a little bit longer?” he mumbled.

Phillip slowly pulled his cock out and Phineas groaned quietly, his hole flexing from the sudden emptiness. Phillip settled beside his lover, bringing Phineas closer. “Of course, dearest, but we can’t lay in our own filth forever, I hope you know that.”

Phineas huffed a laugh, “I’m much too tired, my apprentice, have patience.”

“ Partner ,” Phillip corrected with a soft smile. He grabbed one of Phineas’ wrists, kissing the red marks from the ropes tenderly, drawing a giggle from his partner. “You’re so beautiful, my Phin.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, darling,” Phineas replied wearily, his throat scratchy from use.

Phineas yawned, his eyes barely able to stay open. Phillip kissed his forehead again. “Rest now, dearest.”

Phineas hummed once, nuzzling closer to Phillip. Soon after, his breaths began to even out, his eyes closing as sleep claimed him.

Phillip absentmindedly ran his hand through Phineas’ hair, smiling contently as his lover dozed off.

#nerdywrites #barlyle #TGS #the greatest showman #smut #this was purely self indulgent #plz no judge me #i blame the discord #and a few others #but mostly discord #thanks again schiz you were a lifesaver #be grateful yall dont see whatever the hell it was before it was beta'd

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escapingreality51 · 7 years

Note

God Amelia after your post about Arron missing rob I need a lil fic if you don’t mind? 5 times Aaron misses rob and one time he doesn’t need to? I love your work but it’s totally cool if you don’t wanna

All Along It Was a Fever

He can’t stop crying.

His tears are streaming own his face and the sleeves of his jumper are wet with wiping them away but it doesn’t stop. The hole in his chest draws out more, the throbbing pain in his heart a constant reminder and it hurts.

The Mill is so quiet now - Liv is still away and all Aaron can do and sit in the silence. It is deafening. Each tick of the clock on the wall like a blaring of sound, making the silence more obvious, more engulfing. A reminder of what isn’t there. Robert’s presence used to be everything, a big, loud, arrogant presence that made Aaron so happy. His laughter resounding through the flat, his small snores as he slept. It was everywhere and now it’s gone.

Aaron wipes away his tears again, leans his head against the kitchen drawer and takes a deep breath.

Alone. He chose it, he made it, but the throbbing doesn’t lessen for that fact, doesn’t hurt and make him ache less because he knows it’s right. He needs to stay away, he needs to take care of himself but maybe that’s what hurts more than anything.

He gets up, finds a beer in the fridge and drinks it. The living room is quiet and so he switches on the telly, finds something to have droning on in the background, any noise to fill the silence. The absence. He turns on the radio until that is blaring some music he doesn’t recognise but which is filled with heavy drums and loud guitars and never seems to quiet down. No one complains because there is no one to complain. No one is living in the other flat, no one is there to contest.

Aaron stands in the living room, noises blaring at him and with his feet planted firmly on the ground and the music filling his ears. The tears stop falling.

ii.

Aaron is woken up by rain hammering against the window, wind turning the water into tiny pellets that amplify the sound and drag him from his slumber. Autumn has arrived.

He shifts and turns under the duvet, presses his nose into the pillow and stretches. His dream spills over into real life, he wants to sink back into it and his hand instinctively goes to the other side of the bed, seeking warmth and something long lost. When his hand finds the patch empty, cold, void of someone he wakes up, realisation hitting him.

Robert.

The smell of him lingered on their bedding for a while, soft and musky and too good for comfort so Aaron washed them but even the washing powder reminded him of Robert, standing in the shops and taking the poncy packet from the shelf, explaining how it would make all the difference. Aaron bought new washing powder and the smell has slowly disappeared, leaving behind a dull longing whenever Aaron put his head to the pillow.

His heart aches for the warmth Robert used to exude in sleep, the small snores and heavy breathing a constant reminder of the fact that he was there, they were together. Aaron had him and could turn over and see him sleeping softly against his pillow, golden hair messy and breath foul. He has put Robert’s duvet away, stuffed it into the back of the cupboard and claimed his pillow as his own. He still sleeps on one side though.

His hand traces over the empty spot, running over the soft sheet and desperately willing his brain to forget about the body that used to lie there, the hand he used to find and hold in the morning, the warmth he would wrap his arms around and hold tighter. With a deep breath he pulls back, lies on his back, and tries to quell the longing in his chest.

iii.

“You really can’t cook to save your life,” Liv says. Her fork scratches across the plate as she pushes the food around and the sounds rings in Aaron’s ears, making him wince.

“I tried alright,” Aaron says.

Liv scoffs. “Looks like you just threw everything together and waited until it burned.”

“Oi,” he says, pointing his fork at her. “I tried, alright? I’ll go buy us some pizzas so stop complaining.”

She does, but the sour look on her face tells him it’s a fight to keep her mouth shut.

He gets up and clears the table, chucking the food in the bin and dumping the plates in the dishwasher with more force than strictly necessary. He hates not being able to cook for her, not knowing how to throw a simple sauce together without messing it up just because he used to have someone to help him, cook for him. Cook for the family. He hates the sadness in her eyes because she knows he is hurting. It’s less, now but it’s there and moments like this only make it flare, harder to ignore and it makes Aaron so angry.

When the pizzas are picked up he brings one up to Liv, knocks on her door.

“I’m sorry.” She looks up at him, holds her hands out and takes the box out of his hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped I just missed -”

“I know,” Aaron says, not wanting to hear it, not right now. “I’ll be downstairs if you want to join me.”

He sits on the sofa and opens his box, eyes on an episode of Top Gear as he chews. This used to be their thing; pizza, the sofa, Top Gear and a smile on Robert’s face. It’s still a good episode, and Aaron still loves pizza on the sofa but it’s different now, it’s less in a way that dampens his enjoyment. Still he watches, eats his pizza, takes what enjoyment from it he can. The dull ache of missing Robert has lessened and sometimes he doesn’t mind it as much because at least it reminds him of what they had, of being happy.

He hears shuffling down the stairs and looks over his shoulder to see Liv walking towards him, box in hand.

“Still want company?” she asks, eyes red and hair messy.

“‘Course,” he says. “Come here.”

The cushion dips as she sits down next to him, bringing her legs up and resting her pizza on her knees. She smiles at him, small and sad and smiles back. They have each other and the ache in his chest is doused.

iv.

Aaron bites down on his lip and rests his head on the headboard, fighting the thoughts running through his mind.

He has one hand wrapped around himself, tugging and moving slowly, building to relieve whatever has had him tense all day. He’s hard and it feels good but his brain keeps going back, reminding him of memories best forgotten. Lips on his skin and fingers digging into him, making him moan. His mind is betraying him and he knows he should stop, doesn’t want to think about it because it’s Robert and it’s so long since they touched it makes his fingertips ache.

He tries to shake it off, he really does but the pleasure is building and it’s so tempting to just give in, remember what it felt like with Robert’s hand wrapped around him, working him just right and drawing it out, making him plead for it. Robert on his skin, kissing along his neck and biting at the soft skin behind his ear; Robert using his mouth to make him hard, licking along the shaft and sucking lightly at the tip in that way that he knew made Aaron whimper; Robert digging his hands into his thigh, holding him as Aaron tipped his head back and tries to stifle his moans.

He’s lost in it now, desperate to feel it again and know that Robert was his. His hand is working faster and it’s the best he’s got right now so he allows himself to do it, to sink into the memories of Robert around him, working him and what it felt like to release into Robert’s mouth, have Robert swallow it all and it’s too much - he comes with a grunt, painting his chest with it and biting his lip until pain shoots through him.

A deep breath and then another while his body calms, his mind racing.

He shouldn’t have, he knows it and shame shoots through him. Shame at wanting someone he shouldn’t, at thinking about Robert that way when he knows it can’t end well. It can’t but maybe dreaming about it is better than doing something about it.

In the bathroom he steps into the shower with a smile on his face because even though he shouldn’t have, that felt fucking good.

“Vic’s working ‘till late, fancy a pint later?”

Adam smiling at Aaron over his coffee and Aaron finds himself smiling back.

“Yeah, sounds good. Then I can trash you at darts again.”

“Mate,” Adam says, drawing out the vowels and leaning back in his chair, “we’ll see yeah?”

Aaron’s got his hand around his cup of coffee that Bob has just given him with his usual smile and flair. The cup is warm and Aaron takes a deep breath, the smell of coffee filling his nose. It’s off though - not as earthy and sweet as he is used to. He takes a sip anyway and it tastes wrong as well.

“How’s it going with Alex?” he asks. Aaron shrugs, doesn’t know how to reply because he doesn’t know the answer.

“Alright, I ‘spose.” The steam from his coffee rises slowly in front of him, and he follows it with his gaze, willing his mind blank. “When’ve you got that pick up in Leeds?” he asks and Adam shrugs.

“Need to leave in 30,” he replies. Aaron takes another sip. “You alright mate?” Aaron shoots him a look of confusion and Adam laughs. “Looks like you’ve just smelled something off.”

“Nah, it’s nothing…” His voice trails off as the door to the café opens and Robert walks in. His eyes can’t help but follow him for a second too long before he meets Adam’s eye again. “Just different to what I’m used to is all.”

Adam notices because for some reason with Aaron, he always notices.

“I bet it is, mate.” His mouth is smiling but his eyes are serious. “A lot different.”

“Hiya,” Robert says, standing next to his chair with his hands in his pockets, all thigh and broad chest. “Interrupting something, am I?”

Adam looks at Aaron and waits for an answers.

“Not at all, I was just leaving.” Aaron gets up and he is standing too close for comfort so he looks away. “See you at the yard, yeah?” he asks Adam, and leaves the café before waiting for a reply.

His mouth still tastes of too bitter coffee as he makes his way towards the yard, breath heavy and mind heavier. It’s heavy in his heart and heavy in his chest and he wants to forget the smell of the expensive coffee Robert used to buy or the feel of his lips against Aaron’s, he doesn’t want to miss them the way he does.

He is tired, so tired that each step towards the Mill is arduous, a feat in and of its own. His hands are stuffed in his pocket and his head is so full of orders and contracts and scrap it feels heavy, weighed down by tomorrow before tomorrow has even begun.

Gravel crunches under his feet as he walks down the driveway in front of the Mill and he smiles slightly when he sees that the lights are on. They aren’t usually at this time of day. The door is unlocked when he reaches it, another anomaly. The smell that floods his senses when the door opens is definitely not normal.

“Liv?”

He hears the distinct sound of the extractor hood in the kitchen and Aaron takes off his coat before walking towards the kitchen. Robert is there, wearing an apron and a smile on his face.

“Hiya,” he says. He looks nervous. “Liv let me in, I hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah…” Aaron replies, looking at the chicken in the oven and the pots on the stove. “What are you?”

“I know this is new between us,” Robert says and points between them, “but I wanted to do something nice for you. I hope that’s alright.”

“‘Course, I just didn’t think -” Aaron starts but the faltering of Robert’s smile makes him stop. “This is amazing, Robert.”

“Really?” His face lights up as he says it.

Aaron can’t resist walking up to him and wrapping his arms around him. “Really.”

Robert grins at him and leans in for a kiss. It’s soft, lingering, filled with sweetness and happiness and it makes Aaron’s chest expand.

“I’ve made us a roast,” Robert says when they break apart.

“Smells amazing,” Aaron mumbles before he pulls him in again, fitting their lips together. “I missed you.”

Robert smiles, presses his forehead to Aaron’s and hums contentedly. “Missed you too.”

Aaron keeps him arms wrapped around him a while longer, smelling him, breathing him in, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat against his fingers, in his chest.

“This is good,” Aaron says into Robert’s shoulder.

“It is.”

#amelia writes #amelia answers #prompts are fun #robron fanfiction #my fanfiction #aaron misses robert #Anonymous

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ryukoishida · 7 years

Text

Gundam IBO Fic: In which Yamagi talks to Shino’s ghost. [Post Canon]

Title: Not a Robot, But a Ghost | AO3 Prompt: Yamagi talking to Shino’s ghost. [Post Canon] Pairing: ShinoYama A/N: This prompt gives me all the feels. Thanks a lot, anon! Listening to all the sad Andy Lau and Jacky Cheung Cantopop songs while writing this has been An Experience TM.

“I’ll lock up the hangar after I’m done running diagnostics on these units,” Yamagi says, head still lowered to watch the numbers and lines dancing on the tablet screen that’s connected to one of the mobile workers in the brightly illuminated chamber.

“Don’t stay too late,” Yukinojo replies, and shakes his head when his wife Merribit looks like she’s about to say something. He lowers his voice so that only she can hear him, “let him be for now.”

Merribit glances back into the hangar, where Yamagi seems to be solely focused on the unit he’s working on, blue eyes sharp with concentration and nothing else. The woman heaves a soft sigh, and taking Yukinojo’s offered hand, they begin to head out for the evening.

The near-silence calms him, the only sounds in here being the staccato beeps of the machines, the constant hum of the ventilation fans, and the dull tapping of his finger against the smooth screen. The familiar smell of exhaust and the overpowering stench of fuel comfort him too, in a way — reminds him of days long gone, filled with bittersweet memories of comrades and friends who survived the last battle, the first rebellion, and everything in between, and those who sacrificed their lives so that others may carry on their legacies and live on.

“Yamagi, if you keep at this, you’ll make the Old Man and Ms. Merribit worry,” the familiar granular voice — the one that echoes in his head and ensnares him in his dreams, vivid and intimate like he’s laying right beside him, an arm casually draped around his slim waist as he whispers words that Yamagi can never quite catch or understand. Too soft. Syllables muffled and disintegrated. Slipping through his fingers like the fine, red dust on Mars.

“What are you doing here, Shino?” he asks a question of his own instead of responding to Shino’s comment. His hands are only shaking a little as he places the tablet down on the work table, but he refuses to lift his head to the direction of his voice. No matter how much he wants to see that ruggedly handsome face again, no matter how much he wants to touch the skin that always burns too hot or run his fingers through his shorn hair, no matter how much he wants to look into his eyes and tell him the truth once and for all, with his own voice, by his own volition…

But Yamagi will never have that chance again. He knows that, and he thinks Shino does, too.

“To see how you’re doin’,” he replies with that same carefree tone Yamagi remembers so clearly. “And to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

Yamagi doesn’t need to look up to know that an impish grin is etched on the other man’s lips; he can visualize it perfectly in his mind: the cheery glint of his rich, brown irises, the crooked twist of his mouth, the unapologetic way he constantly invades his personal space when he leans against him with a casual nudge to his shoulder.

“Weren’t you the one who got into all sorts of trouble?” Yamagi grumbles. He shuts off the machineries and disconnects the wires, cleaning up his work area in his usual quiet and efficient manner.

“And I’m always thankful that you’re there to clean up my messes,” Shino says, wandering closer even as Yamagi tries to get away, his feet hurrying forward without truly seeing, fingers instinctively finding and snapping off switches to drench the hangar in utter darkness except for the one, single light by the gate. His chest hurts like someone is clawing through his skin and muscles and bones, reaching deep into his heart; he can’t breathe and he’s gasping deeply like he has to remind himself to inhale and exhale just to remain upright on his feet.

Yamagi doesn’t go any further, letting himself drown in this void with no light no sound — nothing but him and Shino — surrounding himself with his voice, his warmth.

“And that you’ve been watching over me, even though you made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.”

“I said I wouldn’t let you die on my watch,” Yamagi utters in a broken whisper, a hand grasping a fistful of his shirt directly above his heart as his legs give out, and he crumples to the ground with wordless lament.

He still has the strip of bandage from the day he helped Shino bind his injured arm. He was optimistic then — hoping like the fool that he was, like the fools they both were, that Shino would make it back alive. Somehow, one miracle after another, Shino would always return to his side.

They knew he’d run out of miracles eventually, yet pushing themselves forward had been the only option even if they both understood that they were tempting fate.

The coil of white cloth is kept inside a small tin case, buried beneath old newspaper clippings and books in his desk drawer. Nobody knows about that.

“You did,” Shino replies softly, and he stills before Yamagi’s figure.

He sees no shadow where there should be one, but the fact hardly registers in the technician’s head anymore.

“But you’re not here anymore, Shino,” Yamagi tells him like the dead man hasn’t realized his own fate yet, “I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything back then.” He lowers his head with his eyes squeezed close, the few strands of pale blond hair that escape from his ponytail trailing to the sides and framing his face. His fingers gather into shuddering fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palm, and the sharp pain reminds him that this is real: Shino is really here, talking to him.

A warm, calloused hand reaches for Yamagi’s fist and tries to pry those slender fingers apart, and when Shino is holding his hand, his thumb rubbing circles, the heat of his skin seeps into the center of Yamagi’s palm, where the bandage has been tightened as a reminder.

“Look at me,” Shino says in that hoarse baritone that always sets Yamagi’s heart aflame, his breaths hot against his forehead, and then he feels those same fingers tracing the line of his jaw and cradling his cheek as he gently guides his head upward until their gazes finally meet, “Look at me, Yamagi.”

He cannot look away anymore; he doesn’t want to.

Wide, blue eyes hungrily drink in the sight of the man he wishes every day to see once more, and his memory — no matter how much he forces himself to remember, or how long he stares at the Tekkadan group photos during some sleepless nights — does not do Norba Shino any justice.

His eyes shine brighter, more lively and mirthful, and his skin glows pink with health; his hair is a beautiful mess that Yamagi wants to run his fingers through, his lips tucked into a soft smile unlike the loud and obnoxious grins he always seems to hold, and has he always been this tall?

It’s strange, Yamagi thinks in a hauntingly calm state of mind, it’s strange that the Shino he’s seeing now is wearing the usual Tekkadan uniform: the rusty, dark green jacket with orange accents, the white tank-top streaked with grease and sweat.

Don’t ghosts appear in the form that they passed away in? If that’s the case, then shouldn’t Shino be wearing his piloting gear instead?

A part of him wonders why this is suddenly so goddamn important? Another part of him is telling that specific part of him to shut the hell up so he can concentrate on staring at the man before him.

“You’re not real,” Yamagi murmurs, attempting to pull his hand away from Shino’s but to no avail, and he whimpers with a hand digging into his hair, the tears he’s been trying to hold back flow freely down his cheeks when he comes to a realization, “None of this is real. God, I’m going insane, aren’t I?”

But the warmth that emanates from his skin, the gentle pressure of his fingertips against his tear-streaked cheeks, the chapped lips touching his forehead — they all contradict what Yamagi’s rationality is making him believe.

“No, Yamagi, you’re not going insane,” Shino assures him with a breathy chuckle, fingers tenderly threading into his blond locks that used to cover one of his eyes and pushing them back to reveal the shade of blue that Shino has always found so beautiful. “You’re just trying too hard to hold on to something that should be left behind.”

“I don’t want to forget,” Yamagi pleads, leaning his entire weight forward when he grasps Shino’s shoulders with a grip that would leave behind bruises if Shino had a physical body. He knocks his forehead against Shino’s, his chest heaving and his heart crawling with the overwhelming, nameless emotion that swallows his rationality until there’s nothing left. “I don’t want to forget you!”

“I know,” he wraps his arms around Yamagi and the technician buries his face into the nook of Shino’s neck, breathing in his scent that simultaneously pacify the storm in his heart and stirs up his selfish desire to keep him here, in this moment, in his mind, forever. “I know how difficult this must be for you, but you need to try, okay? You need to try — for my sake, and for those who are still around and care deeply for you.”

“You’re strangely sensible for a ghost, aren’t you?” his voice is muffled by Shino’s jacket, his tears darkened the material of his collar.

“Maybe it’s because I’m not a ghost, exactly?” he laughs lightly in that wonderful, deep rumble of his, his body shuddering slightly with the sound. “I’m a part of you. Always has been. Always will be.”

“Promise?”

Yamagi relaxes his hold on Shino’s shoulders as his heart grows just a degree lighter. The air around them shifts again, and Shino’s voice — warm like the sun, vibrant and wild like the dust of their homeland — seems to echo somewhere deeper from within him.

“Yeah, I promise!”

When Yamagi opens his eyes, he finds himself alone once more. But this time, he can smile and takes a step forward.

#gundam: iron-blooded orphans #gundam ibo #shinoyama #norba shino #yamagi gilmerton #norba/yamagi #the ending sucked #I'm sorry #bowie's crappy writing

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