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satans-helper · 5 months

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Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part VII

Read previous parts here or read on Ao3

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~3600

Warnings: vampire stuff; brief smut

Hope this was worth the wait ;)

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For the first time in a long time, life was good for Danny. He felt genuinely content almost all the time now–it didn’t matter what happened at work or with his family or the little issues with the apartment that, until very recently, had felt akin to a prison. His entire existence felt lighter now with Sam in the picture and that wasn’t something Danny had ever anticipated or expected from any relationship. But, he realized, that may have been because none of his other relationships had involved what he was sure was nothing short of a soulmate. Perhaps hokey and overly romanticized, but it was true–Sam was his soulmate. Sam challenged him, helped him have fun, listened to him, shared with him, explored with him. All the things that Danny wanted and he didn’t have to hide one single part of himself. Sam accepted and loved him as a whole being. It was a real, whole relationship.

Including real dates, which Danny found himself enjoying far more than he ever had in the past. Definitely because it was with Sam, but also because Sam liked doing just about anything–Danny never had to think too hard or plan too much. The bonus being nearly every date ended with sex–Sam was insatiable.

Almost as insatiable as Danny, but he was doing an excellent job at holding back no matter how much Sam encouraged him to just let go and give into his ultimate desires. He thought, anyway. There’d been nothing even close to a slipup. However, when the Kiszkas roped him into a little weekend road trip to what Josh called “the big city” for Sam’s birthday, Danny knew it was another massive hurdle. Every time he was with all of them, the urges crawling in his brain began to scream.

Sam, as usual, could feel the tension emanating from Danny, both in his energy and in how tightly he was holding himself while they sat in the backseat of Josh’s car. He held Danny’s hand, both trying to keep his boyfriend grounded but also himself. He couldn’t help it–he kept getting jealous. Each time Danny went off to get his fix with someone else, seething envy, hot anger and even some dark, twisted despair brewed in his body and mind. Worse was that each time Danny was with his brothers, that envy and betrayal grew until it felt like vines wrapping around his heart, squeezing tight.

He never wanted to upset Danny but bottling his emotions was unnatural for Sam. Sometimes, mostly because Danny wouldn’t even outright tell him why he was heading out of town for a night, Sam wanted to throw an actual tantrum. He wanted to demand his boyfriend go to him for absolutely everything no matter what, because Sam could handle it, because Sam wanted it. But Danny was skilled in self-control, so Sam tried to be too, time and time again.

It got better once the ride was over. Walking through the streets of the city, popping into shops, revisiting museums, lunch, drinks–all of it was good. Very good, actually, and Sam felt a conscious, profound sense of gratitude for his life. For his brothers, his whole family, and now Danny. He could hardly believe that it was going on six months that he’d had a real, actual boyfriend, the sort of person that was better than he’d ever imagined. Stranger than he’d ever imagined too, but that was partly why he loved Danny so much. Beyond the whole vampire thing, Danny was an unabashed dorky weirdo. He never took himself too seriously but he took the important things in life seriously. Danny took him seriously and Sam knew that Danny prioritized his happiness more than his own, something that was incredibly novel and curious. Sam always had a bit of a hedonistic streak–instead of Danny faulting him for it, he encouraged it. He knew that for a fact when Danny gave him his birthday gifts–a sizable bag of incredible smelling weed and a whole slew of different edibles.

“Holy shit,” Josh remarked, leaning over the table so far that it looked like his entire upper body was going to make contact with their half-eaten plates of sandwiches and their beers. “Look at that haul.” He looked at both Sam and Danny while he sat back down. “Sammy, you really hit the jackpot with this one.”

Sam sidled up against Danny, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “I really fucking did.” He propped his chin on Danny’s shoulder, staring at his profile. “Thanks, Daniel. You know me so well. Should we start now?”

“You’re the birthday boy,” Danny told him, bringing his hand to Sam’s thigh beneath the table. He really couldn’t have thought of anything better for a birthday than to indulge his favorite stoner; based on the looks on Josh and Jake’s faces as well, it seemed like a good choice.

“Sam, put it all back in the bag,” Jake said, nudging the bag of weed closer to his younger brother. “It may be legal, but someone here might kill for that if they see it.”

Sam rolled his eyes but eased Jake’s worries by putting it all back in the gift bag, fluffing the tissue paper back over everything. He was totally content to keep this all to himself and Danny, but then Danny asked, “We could all smoke together later, right?”

Danny knew asking would surprise Sam with how pointedly he’d limited his time with Sam’s brothers. But he was tired of having to avoid them. He liked Josh and Jake a lot and if this relationship was going to continue–and he was certain it was–he needed to keep pushing himself.

“We could hot-box,” Josh offered, then tapped his chin in thought. “Or we could just devour some of those edibles in the hotel.”

“How about both?” Sam replied before finishing off his beer. “We need more drinks too.” He was not above taking full advantage of the fact that his brothers were paying for all of this–they wouldn’t let Danny chip in, though Sam did see his boyfriend try to slip Jake a couple twenties once they were back outside, which Jake silently, fervently declined to accept.

Danny had done good with his weed. It was strong and easy, the high making him sink into the backseat instead of stiffening against it; all four of them were passing a bowl around in the hotel parking lot, the windows fogged with smoke and body heat, the music from the stereo a comforting loop in Danny’s ears. He leaned heavily against Sam, who leaned right back, the two of them pressed so close together that it actually became awkward to try and pass the bowl back and forth when their turns came around.

As all birthdays should go in his mind, Sam was sufficiently fucked up. He’d drank more than anyone else all day–throw all the weed on top of that, then the edibles he and Danny had chowed down on in their hotel room and he felt like the whole world was spinning. Not in a bad way, not like he was going to get sick–actually, he felt amazing. The hotel room now held a deep fascination, like the drab walls were newly glimmering in the evening light cutting through the wide window and the bed beneath him felt exceptionally plush. But the best thing was the weight of Danny pressing down next to him.

“Happy birthday, Sammy,” Danny said, feeling pretty fucked up himself but also relieved. He’d been dying for some time alone with the birthday boy all day no matter how much fun he’d been having with the twins. He curled an arm around Sam’s back and pulled him in to kiss his soft cheek, and Sam laughed and cupped Danny’s face to kiss him properly.

Sam crawled into his lap, straddling him, gazing into his beautiful eyes that reflected every forest and every sunset Sam had ever experienced. “You got me the perfect gifts,” he purred, and Danny beamed. “But I thought of something I want even more.”

Danny grabbed Sam’s ass, kneading it like a cat. “Oh yeah? What would that be?”

Sam’s desires spilled freely, his mind uninhibited: “I wanna be the only one, Danny. I wanna be the person you go to for everything.”

Danny’s hands ceased their movements. “Everything?”

Sam nodded, toying with Danny’s hair. “Yeah. Everything. I don’t like that you go out and get your fix from randos,” he said, squirming a little with an onset of nerves. Danny was looking at him with so much suspicion and trepidation. “I never liked it.” Emotion made his voice thicker, more raw; he could feel the change in his own facial expression too, desperation and pain in his eyes. “I really fucking hate it, actually.”

“Sam–” Danny began to say, but he wasn’t sure how to explain himself in the state he was in, so all he finished with was, “I’m sorry.”

Sam scoffed, clasping his hands around the back of Danny’s neck. “Don’t be sorry. Just give me what I want. It’s what you want too. Am I wrong?”

“Oh Sam,” came as a soft reply from Danny. He never wanted to hurt Sam physically or emotionally. But not hurting him physically was hurting him emotionally. He didn’t know how to wrap his head around it. “Yeah, I want that. But even without that one part, you are my everything. I don’t wanna hurt you.” He sighed and clasped Sam’s forearms. “I love you.”

“I know,” Sam replied, unfazed–he’d felt that love for Danny so long that hearing the words for the first time, especially in the state he was in, weren’t earth-shattering like they were in romance novels and movies. He knew Danny loved him and Sam loved Danny in return, but in his mind, the most significant act of devotion would be the one thing Danny kept denying. “I love you too, Danny. Can’t we give this to one another?”

Danny fought, he really did. He sat there with Sam on top of him for what felt like a lifetime but was probably no longer than a minute, trying to hold fast to the desire–the promise he’d made to himself–of never hurting Sam again. But Sam looked so defeated, the hope of his own unfulfilled desire dashed, and Danny couldn’t take that either.

“Okay,” he said finally, and light returned to Sam’s eyes. “But are you really sure about this?” Danny was trembling, hands shakily moving down to Sam’s waist. “I won’t be able to live with myself if we do this and–”

Sam covered Danny’s mouth with his hand. “I’m sure. You know I haven’t stopped thinking about this. You’ve gone out every week to drink someone else’s blood. I can’t take it anymore.” He let all his weight drop on top of Danny; Danny could feel that both of them were hard beneath their pants and tense everywhere else. “So–you ready?”

Danny nodded and Sam took his hand away. “Just a little bit, Sam. It’s not even gonna be like last time, alright?” In response, Sam just kissed him again, hard and fierce; Danny wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and kissed back just the same. The scent of pot, alcohol, sweat and Sam himself floated freely and Danny gave himself permission to indulge in it, quickly breaking away from Sam’s mouth to inhale deeply behind his ear. His lips trailed down the long, graceful neck; he tugged on Sam’s shirt to expose as much of his collarbone and shoulder that he could and pressed soft kisses there, making Sam sigh and begin to play with Danny’s hair again.

“God, you really do smell good,” Danny told him. With his eyes closed, it was all touch and scent, and he felt even drunker on Sam alone. He leaned back to pull Sam’s shirt over his head and brought his heated palms back to that body as Sam shivered.

It was the chill of the room’s a/c that made him shiver but also the weight of knowing what was going to happen. Sam really did want it. He’d wanted it every day since it had first happened. But there was still a little fear nonetheless–not that Danny would actually hurt him, but the fear of Danny retreating again after the fact. Inadvertently, he was holding his breath while Danny explored his torso with hands and lips, then the warm, wet tongue to lick Sam’s collarbones as fingers toyed with his nipples.

Sam’s unusual silence made Danny even more nervous; he met Sam’s dark eyes again, his hands petting the thin, sharp ribs beneath his palms. “Sammy–you good?”

“You gotta promise me something,” Sam said before he could allow himself to neglect those thoughts any longer. He put his hands on Danny’s shoulders and straightened his back. “Promise me that, y’know, after this–you won’t run away. You won’t break up with me. No dramatics. Okay?”

“Even if I hated myself after this, I couldn’t stay away from you,” Danny assured him, the truth thick and poignant in his heart as he spoke each word.

“Good,” Sam added, giving one short-lived grind of his crotch against Danny’s. “Don’t.”

Danny groaned quietly, almost silently, and nuzzled his face into Sam’s sternum. “So can I? Like you are totally, absolutely, one hundred percent sure?”

“For fuck’s sake, Daniel,” Sam barked, impatient now that he had all the affirmation he needed, and yanked on a fistful of dark hair. “Be a fucking vampire for five fucking minutes.”

Danny laughed. “Okay,” he said, pressing one hand to the back of Sam’s neck to bring him down a bit, so he could finally allow his lips to press against the sweet-smelling, tender flesh. “Okay, okay. Here we go.” There he went indeed. He cupped the back of Sam’s head, fingers threading through long silky hair, as he relaxed his jaw, opening his mouth to make full contact. Sam wiggled in his lap and latched his hands to Danny’s back, bringing himself even closer–doing what he said he wanted. Giving himself over. And Danny went with it, finally pressing his teeth–canines included–low on Sam’s neck, his chin pressed against a collarbone.

It hurt, no doubt about it. Sam winced and whimpered but stayed right there, not that he had much of a choice–Danny had an iron grip on his entire body from the hand in his hair to the arm wrapped around his middle, keeping them tethered together. But the sharp shock of the bite withered quickly to a buzzing sort of sting, but even that was shielded by the warmth of Danny’s mouth and the gentle press of his tongue while he sucked the blood straight from Sam’s veins. If he really thought about it for a second too long, it did seem super fucked up, Sam felt, but the way Danny hummed in ecstasy and exhaled against him surmounted that too.

Danny gave himself only a few seconds really, he figured, and it was painful to stop. But that was enough. The scent that had evolved into taste, the weight of blood in his mouth and the heat of it down his throat was enough even from those few seconds. He pulled back and refused to let himself study the wound–it was temporary. Sam was okay. They were both okay, so Danny slowly licked his tongue over the little tooth punctures and didn’t wait to watch the strange healing process. He just took Sam’s face in his hands and kissed him with all the gratitude swelling in his chest and when Sam kissed him back, knowingly and willingly tasting his own blood on Danny’s tongue, Danny grunted against his mouth, hips stuttering beneath Sam’s body as he abruptly came.

“Shit,” he muttered, eyes still closed as he created a few inches of space between them. He felt so many things at once, from the heavy high from the weed he was riding through to the even heavier high from Sam, but for the first time, Danny didn’t feel the weight of shame bearing down on him.

Fully distracted now by Danny coming in his pants just from drinking his blood and kissing him, Sam felt no pain at all. He brought Danny’s mouth back to his own, murmuring, “It’s okay” before slipping his tongue back into his wildly sweet vampire boyfriend’s mouth.

Danny rolled Sam over onto his back and crawled between his legs, propped up on his hands. He lifted one to brush Sam’s hair back, inspecting. “Are you okay?” he asked, ignoring the weirdly unresolved ache in his groin and the uncomfortable wet spot there.

Sam reached up to touch his neck–it felt hot and sore but, again, free of any actual remnants of carnage. “I’m okay. I’m great, actually,” he said with a rough laugh, flopping his arms out at his sides. “We gave each other what we wanted.”

“And I–” Danny began, looking down at himself while he palmed his groin. “Totally fucking embarassed myself.”

Sam sat up on his elbows. “No, you didn’t.” He reached a hand out, fingers slipping beneath Danny’s waistband. “That’s fucking hot, Danny. You came ‘cause you got so excited.”

Danny breathed out slowly and crawled forward, hair hanging in Sam’s face. “I came because you’re so into it. You tasted your own blood,” he admitted, expecting to feel all that hot shame flood his veins once more but, again, it didn’t come. Instead, he was enveloped by his boyfriend’s warm, loving arms and kissed all over, until his own neck was burning red beneath Sam’s lips.

Sam giggled. “I didn’t do that on purpose.” He mouthed against Danny’s throat while his hands roamed beneath his shirt, feeling the hard abs and the coarse hair that drove him as wild as every other part of Danny did. He dug his fingertips into Danny’s sides when another warm hand cupped his bulge. “Ooh, yeah–do that on purpose.”

Danny chuckled. Satiated and subdued, he could totally let go–well, he could fully let go after he addressed the lingering issue. “Sammy–we gotta rewind a bit,” he said, sitting back on Sam’s thighs. Sam stayed quiet, looking a touch wary, so Danny tried to run a reassuring hand down his waist. “As much as I wish I could just get this from you all the time, I can’t. It wouldn’t be safe. Seriously.” He swallowed, waiting for the inevitable blowback, but Sam just kept looking at him, breathing evenly. “You’re always gonna be my number one, alright? But there are gonna be times where I have to go find ‘randos.’ That’s the only way it’ll work. It’s the only way we’ll be okay.”

Sam sighed. He’d expected as much. “I get it,” he said, lacing his fingers through Danny’s, then he tugged him forward. “Just as long as you always come to me first.”

Danny smiled. “Always, baby. Now can I make you come?”

Sam brought Danny’s hand back down to his crotch. “Please do.”

With a great amount of love burning in his heart, Danny began that quest. He spent a long time with his mouth roaming across Sam’s upper body, kissing, biting and licking until his boyfriend was nearly thrashing against the bed and overtly begging for more. Then he got Sam naked and long fingers tangled in Danny’s hair as he went down on him, pouring all of his newly found energy into sucking, licking and stroking just the way his boyfriend liked–and demanded–it.

More than being stoned, Sam felt like the wind got knocked out of him after he came. Trying to catch his breath, he pulled Danny up by the shirt that was still on him and kissed him–the taste of his own cum wasn’t as good as the taste of blood, but Sam could taste Danny behind it all. He could feel him too, the entire weight of and length of his body on top, and Sam thought that he wanted to escape into that forever. He wanted Danny with him, on him, all over him forever.

“Thank you,” Sam said. It was probably the most sincere “thank you” he’d ever said in his life. Danny kissed him again, smiling, before he rolled over, draping one arm and one leg over him. Sam could do better than that though–he climbed over Danny and clung to him like wet paper. “Best birthday ever.”

Danny was wishing he’d taken off his clothes, especially because his boxers were full-on sticking to his crotch. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

Sam nodded against his chest. “Fucking finally. You gotta keep your promise.”

“I will. I don’t break promises.”

“I know you don’t. But this is the most important one.”

“I know it is, baby,” Danny assured him, stroking his hands down Sam’s back. It wasn’t even late–they both needed a shower and to hit the town again for dinner. He wanted to treat Sam to wherever and whatever he wanted. He was sure Sam could use some extra fuel now, and he felt he needed to further assess before that happened, particularly when he noticed the blooming violet and red bruise on his neck: “Did it hurt?”

“A little. Not too bad.” Sam sighed as if he had nowhere else to be ever again, a dead weight on top of Danny. The lingering pain was nothing compared to the bliss he felt. “Like anything else, I bet the more we do it, the less it will hurt.”

“Like sex.”

Sam snorted. “Exactly, Daniel.”

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Tagging: @mackalah @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

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#greta van fleet #gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner x sam kiszka #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #gvf fic #gvf smut #stfyh #sanny

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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A Caged Dove Part 2 (Shouto Todoroki x Reader)

Summary: You are a princess from a smaller territory within the kingdom, summoned to the castle to meet with the heir of the throne in the absence of your parents. You think it will simply be a routine trip, until you realize that Prince Shouto has his own plans for you. Whether you agree with them or not.

Pairing: Prince Shouto Todoroki x Reader Rating: T+ for this chapter, but E+ for future ones. Chapter Warnings: Yandere themes, obsession, suggestion of forced marriage, murder Series Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, breeding, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stalking, yandere Word Count: 3.1k Note: Fairy Tale AU. (Still more Grimm than Disney). First part was my event entry into the @bnhabookclub, a group I am so happy to have joined. This series is actually something that I am really proud of, and I’m glad that it seems to be getting such a good response. I hope you all like part 2! Thank You: To @thewheezingwyvern, who continues to discusses this idea with me for hours, albeit with less screeching now that I’m actually posting. Woman, I really appreciate your help. @jojosmilktea, thank you again for making the gorgeous banner for me! I am but a humble peasant compared to your banner making, and must bow to the queen.

One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Finale)

You are being led to your assigned bedroom in the Todoroki castle, a large extravagant room unlike anything you've ever experienced back at your own home. The ceilings are tall and vaulted, with a gorgeous ornate fireplace along the back wall. A large four-poster bed dominates the space itself with a canopy hanging from all four posts. When you step into the bathroom, you notice the large claw foot tub in the middle of the room, and you find yourself immediately wanting to use it.

It has been a long day, and you were barely able to fix yourself up for the meeting properly. A fact that is unusual, considering the nature of this meeting. The royal family sometimes take days to meet with guests, even ones they summon. Having an immediate meeting with him left you off balance and feeling very unprepared for the meeting.

And as for Prince Shouto himself, you really don't know what to make of him. On one hand, you can see the Todoroki royal bearing about him, the kind of manner you would expect from the heir to the throne. On the other hand, you see something in his mismatched eyes that you do not like. Something dark and possessive. It worries you in a way that you cannot explain, but there is nothing to do right now but play along.

Play along and hope that Prince Shouto will come to his senses, drop this madness. You are no fit companion for the heir to the throne, no future queen to sit beside him. There are far better options for one such as him, and you do not want the kind of responsibility this will lead to. You just have to prove to him that there are better options for him. Or at worst, wait for your parents to return from their trip and explain that you do not want this. Even the Todoroki family, as powerful as they are, cannot ignore the right of noble parents to refuse a match.

You sigh to yourself as you go to bed, hoping a better answer will come to you in the morning.

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You are woken up gently by someone calling your name in the distance, and you blearily open your eyes to see a handmaiden standing beside your bed. You realize quickly that it's not your own that you brought with you on this journey, and you instantly inquire about that. "Excuse me, but where is the girl from my household?"

"I am terribly sorry Princess, but I was summoned here to take care of you for your rendezvous with his Royal Highness," she gives a deep curtsy to these words.

"You are dismissed," you say gently, "I would prefer to use my own handmaiden. She already knows exactly what to do in order to get me ready for such a big event."

The handmaid's face turns panicked, her eyes flicking about as if she's worried that someone will hear what you said. "I am terribly sorry Princess," she whispers, "but I must be the one to do it or I could face a reprimand."

You recognize the word reprimand the way it's intended, the hidden meaning behind it clear. She will be punished, most likely severely, if you don't allow her to finish this task. Refusing or failing a task given to you by the nobility can have horrible consequences, even with the kind hearted royal family.

You give a sigh as you roll gracelessly out of bed. "Alright then, you may assist me." At your words, the panic leaves her face and she gives you a bright smile. What kind of punishment would make her so scared, you wonder, her fear being so intense that it makes you worried.

You shake your head before realizing that there is nothing you can do for her and that there is no way to find out. She seems too timid to get any real answers out of. You allow her to lead you to the bathroom with little complaint as she helps get you out of your nightclothes and into the bath. She helps you with every aspect of cleaning your body, of washing your hair, picking and laying out clothes for you. Then she assists you with putting on every piece of clothing before applying your makeup and fixing your hair.

By the time she is done with all of this, you almost feel like going back to bed. Taking this much time to get ready every morning is exhausting, and it's not something you need to do back home. She leads you to a full length mirror against the wall of your bedroom and encourages you to look into it.

What you see almost takes your breath away at the woman staring back at you. You are in a gorgeous, floor length ball gown, a dark red color with traces of silver swirling through the pattern. The jewelry is all silver, rubies inlaid in every piece in such a way that it almost looks like drops of blood woven into the metal itself. Your hair has been kept long, but with braids here and there that have been wrapped around the back of your head like a crown. You have never worn such finery in your life, never looked so beautiful. The perks of being courted by a prince, you suppose.

"Thank you, you did a wonderful job," you compliment the handmaid. "And I suppose it's your job to take me to Prince Shouto, as well?" You realize what you called him as soon as the handmaiden's eyes get wide and frightened, and you belatedly realize that you don't know if he gave you permission to call him that outside of being alone with him. You decide you need to confirm that one way or the other when you meet him, lest you get yourself in trouble.

The woman wisely chooses to ignore your possible slipup, merely nodding at you as she motions you through the door. You walk through several long, empty corridors, as you quietly take in the sights of the palace. You have never been here personally, but you have heard the stories, and it truly does live up to the reputation of splendor. Maybe a bit too much splendor, you laugh to yourself, as you can't imagine living here regularly.

Finally you reach your destination, an open air courtyard within the palace gates. It is surrounded by beautiful flowers of all different types and colors, and a large cherry tree in the middle of the area. It's under the tree where Prince Shouto stands waiting for you. He is in his full prince regalia, his suit jacket and pants black with silver accents here and there. An elaborate sword hangs at his waist in a gold scabbard. You glance up at his face to see him already looking at you, a small smirk gracing his face as he notices your attention.

You make your way slowly towards him, stopping at the acceptable range for a noblewoman of your station. But Prince Shouto does not seem to care about such a thing, as he immediately moves even closer to you, the distance between you bordering impropriety. This is the distance a husband and a wife would be from each other, you think in alarm. You try to take a step back, but he simply grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist. He takes one slender finger under your chin to tip your face back so that he can stare into your eyes.

Your heart is pounding as you're frozen in indecision. Nothing about your training tells you how to react when a prince ignores all manner of modern decency to pursue a lower class noblewoman. Your eyes dart back and forth, a pathetic plea for help as you know no one would dare go against the Crown Prince.

He lets out a small growl that brings you back to attention, and you find yourself gazing into his eyes at the heat that lay in them. "Look at me, Princess," he whispers, "and no one else."

Your eyes widen at his possessive tone, and you try to think of a response until he suddenly pulls away completely. His face is back to his neutral look, and it's as if you never saw the darkness, the fire in his eyes.

Before you leave the garden with him, he reaches up to pluck a blossom from the tree right overhead. You give him a questioning look before he reaches down to tuck it into your braids. You reach up to gently touch the flower in your hair, before giving a slight smile at the rather boyish gesture. He smiles back at you and offers you an arm, and left with nothing else to do, you take it.

The next few hours are pleasant, if nothing more than idle chit chat. You take a pleasant stroll through the gardens as he explains the castle grounds. You occasionally drift into castle drama with one noble or the other, but never anything controversial. To your surprise however, he seems very interested in your own opinion on various political issues. Even when you two disagree, he listens to your opinion and even modifies his opinion when he finds you made a good point. This is rather pleasant, you think to yourself. Maybe your instincts were wrong after all.

"I am delighted that you agreed to go on this date with me, Princess."

You inwardly roll your eyes at the statement, but bite back a retort. You both know that you had no real choice in the matter.

"It has been rather pleasant, Prince Shouto. I am surprised, however, that you take my opinion into consideration. I am not as familiar in the area of politics as you are, as my own territory is small."

"You again do yourself a disservice. You are quite well read, and even in this talk we have had today, you have proven yourself to be a rather quick learner. Anyone who reads as much as you do must be. It is a surprise you have had no one court you before me."

"Thank you, Prince Shouto, that is very kind of you to say. That means quite a lot coming from you, someone who has been groomed for politics and ruling all his life." As you say this though, something strikes you as odd about what he said. "I'm sorry, but how do you know that I read a lot? Or that I haven't been courted."

He smirks as he shrugs his shoulders in a distinctly un-prince like fashion. "Oh, it is simply known. Many people talk about the Princess who would prefer to read in her library over getting married."

"That is not entirely true, Prince Shouto. If you don't mind me saying, of course," you hastily add. "There was one who wanted to court me, a local noble in my territory. But something happened to make him drop everything, leave the country."

Prince Shouto's gaze turns dark, almost murderous. "Is that so? Are you talking about the foolish noble who tried to run to the country of one of our enemies? He tried to steal something from the crown, was found guilty of treason and was swiftly executed."

You stare at him in horror as you try to reconcile his words with the friendly, sweet man who had wanted to marry you. You thought you had loved him, was looking forward to a life by his side. For him to be convicted of treason, to be dead, it left you speechless.

"I - I did not know that," you say quietly. "How did you know?"

"It is my job to know what's going on with my country," he says impassively, "and what's going on with people who try to take what's mine."

The wording of this strikes you as odd. Stealing from the crown was a capital offense, but the prince seems to take it almost personally. As if it was an attack on him directly. You shake your head and chalk it up to one of the many strange facets to Prince Shouto.

He takes you to an unknown building on the last stop of the tour and leads you down a long corridor until you reach two huge double doors. He pushes them open, motioning you inside. As you walk through the door, you can't stop yourself from letting out an audible gasp.

The room is a library, although that is a poor description for the vast beauty of this place. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line every wall, with tables and chairs in the middle for sitting and reading. On the far side of the wall sits a little reading cubbyhole, similar to what you have at home, for when you want to hide away from the world and immerse yourself in a book.

You forget all sense of manners as you rush away towards one of the bookshelves, turning your back to a prince in a shocking breach of decorum. But as you turn back to apologize, you don't miss the way his face is flush with pleasure at your enjoyment.

"Please continue, Princess," his smile turns sharp, "this room is for you, after all."

"What, what do you mean this room is for me?" You ask in confusion.

"As my wife, this library will be all yours."

Your eyes light up a bit at the thought of all of this being yours, although you're still slightly confused by his statement. But you decide to take his comment about continuing at face value, and you walk hurriedly to the first bookshelf you see before gently running your fingertips along the shelves. They are full of books that you love, all of the classics and nonfiction, the romance and the horror. You wander through the whole library, checking every section and simply breathing in the smell of old books.

But you notice a disturbing trend as you go through the library, something that becomes more and more obvious as you look around. This is not a complete library by any means. But the genres, the books that are missing, are all the ones that you do not like. You glance at the classics section, and notice all of your favorite authors are here, and the few who you dislike are conspicuously missing. The same with some of the nonfiction. Whole genres of books are missing, entire sections of authors.

As you get to the back section of the library, things become even more chilling. An entire bookshelf, full of all the books you have wanted to read but could not for one reason or another. There are classic first editions here that you could not buy even with a year's worth of your family's salary. Some of these are even books you had piled up by your bed, waiting to read.

You whirl around in horror as the dawning realization hits you, and you come face to face with Prince Shouto. There is a gleam in his eyes that makes you understand that he knows precisely what you just realized. "What is the meaning of this," you try to make your voice come out strongly, but instead it comes out in a low whisper.

"I told you," he wraps an arm around you as he pulls you flush against his body, "this is going to be your library." His smile turns dark as he adds the next part. "When you become my wife."

When. Not if. No room for argument. No wiggle room. Just an absolute statement from the heir apparent of the Todoroki Empire. "You said you were given permission to court me," you try to say reasonably, "but saying when makes it seem like it is already decided. When my parents return from their diplomatic mission, I can always make them withdraw their permission."

He laughs outright at that, a motion that you can even feel being pressed so closely against him. "Ahh, my poor naive little princess." He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear that has loosened from your braids. "You assume that you'll even be given a chance to talk to them."

It feels like your heart falls all the way down into your stomach. "You can't keep me prisoner here," you try to say, but it sounds hollow even to your own ears. You are within the Royal Palace, in the arms of the Crown Prince. If he doesn't wish for anyone to see you, excuse after excuse could be made. And his family is so well loved that every single one of them would be believed.

You are trapped. Completely and utterly trapped. You can see no way of escape from this no matter how hard you try, and your breath begins to come out in short gasps. You can feel the walls closing in on you, as if you're being placed inside a cage from which you cannot escape.

If he notices your panic, then he gives no indication. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head. "I promise you, being married to me will not be so bad. You'll have everything you've ever wanted." He pulls you in for a heated kiss, his tongue deftly sliding into your mouth as he kisses you deeply. His hand comes to the back of your head, cupping it firmly so that there is no way out.

When he pulls away, your cheeks are slightly flushed, and you gasp for air. "Prince Shouto, please ---"

"There is a better word you can be using now, you know," he interrupts you.

A better term? You don't know what that would be as your mind struggles to keep up with everything that is happening. You try to slow your mind down, try to think of what he could possibly mean. And it finally hits you. You glance at him and see his amusement as he motions for you to go on.

A tear rolls down your face as you whisper the damning words. "Prince Shouto, my - my husband."

He smiles in sheer contentment at hearing those words from you, words that he's longed for ever since he first laid eyes on you. "Ah, now there's my good princess," he whispers as he kisses away the tear from your cheek.

A good princess, you think bitterly. You will not be thought of as a good princess when you free yourself. You only wish you could see the look on the prince’s face when he realizes his caged bird flew away.

~~~~

Tags: @burnedbyshoto, @shoutogepi, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93, @katsukisprincess, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @mimikarasu, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @hoefortodo, @mhafanfics19, @oktamaki, @daringbanshee, @otaku-explosion, @hellomary16, @vanillaicebaby, @theravencawsatmidnight

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #yandere shouto #yandere shoto #yandere bnha #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #eventual smut #a caged dove #bnhabookclub

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

Keep in a Cool Dry Place

Demoman/Soldier, 3k

A couple of old, past their prime mercs live out their days, but at least they’re slowly breaking down together.

Oftentimes, Jane would go out onto the deck to find Tavish fixed in place, chin tilted skywards, soaking up the stars for all they were worth. He could be like that, sometimes for hours, eye glossy against the Milky Way as he stood so still he could make a statue proud.

“You’re up awful late,” he said to Jane, unmoving. Probably had realized Jane had been watching for a while now.

“Could say the same to you,” Jane said, pulling himself into a deck chair with a great cascade of air from his smoker’s lungs, the grunt of an old man he always thought was an exaggerated affectation until it started happening to him.

“I don’t get up at five in the morning,” Tavish reminded him.

“You could. Good for the health, Tavish.”

“I don’t think anything’s good for the health these days. Just bad, and slightly worse.” He drummed his fingers on the deck’s railing. “C’mere, look at this.”

“I can see the damn stars just fine from here,” Jane sniffed.

Tavish broke from his surveying to shoot a grin Jane’s way, features cut sharp in the porch light. “Come on you old fart, get over here.”

Jane grumbled, pushing out of the chair with more effort than he would have liked to admit. He made his way to Tavish, joining him at the railing, their shoulders brushing just briefly until Tavish swung an arm around Jane’s waist.

His voice took on a fading quality all of the sudden, as though far away winds were dragging him skyward. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

Jane watched him. In the past few years his good eye had grown white in the center, a fuzzy film growing out from the pupil that would one day take the whole cornea. It was irreversible, Tavish had explained, years of buildup from stromnium or strotenium or something like that, Jane could never remember. Tavish wasn’t surprised, had told Jane that he was shocked he’d still had the thing this long, but that didn’t mean there was no mourning within the man. It was just different than how most people would have gone about it.

“Sure is,” Jane said. “Real beautiful.”

“Aye. And you ‘n me, we’re not seeing the half of it. Those telescopes, the ones the size of whole buildings, all they have is a bunch of different magnifying glasses and yet when they put ‘em all together you can see whole galaxies that weren’t there before. Same sky, just some folks can see it, some folks can’t.”

“You can still see it,” Jane reminded him, a gentle bump to the shoulder.

“For now,” Tavish agreed. He turned, smiling with just the corner of his mouth, a testament that was gone before Jane could fully appreciate how much he loved the small, sad ways he chose to be happy. A hand came up to brush the side of Jane’s cheek. “I just keep thinking about how one of these days will be the last day I see you.”

Their foreheads came together. Jane’s hand rose to cover the one across his cheek, thumb rubbing the small band of gold on Tavish’s finger. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe this; despite the decades, despite the promises made on cold desert nights, despite watching the grey hairs spring in Tavish’s beard and knowing the same was happening to him, it was still hard to fathom that someone had chosen to spend the rest of their life with him. Even though the years with Tavish came close to outnumbering the years without, that time in Jane’s life of infinite loneliness, of stubborn self sufficiency, made him question how he was ever lucky enough that someone had hung on their sense and decided he was worth it.

Jane pulled Tavish closer. “Yeah. Well. If you’re going to keep a last image of me in your head, I really wish it was back when I was still handsome.”

Tavish laughed, swaying them both slightly in the unusually still air. Normally winds rattled the badlands, stirring up loose sand and seething through plants too hardy to notice. It felt like, for once, the world had chosen to be kind this night, just for them.

“You get handsomer every day Jane,” Tavish said, and hidden behind the words were each day I love you more. “I just…miss.”

“Miss how things used to be?”

“More than that. I’ve got the ‘ole yearning, I suppose, the eater of men.” Tavish chewed his words, looking up at the sky again. “I miss places. I miss how everything used to feel, even if it wasn’t terribly good.”

“Not talking about going back to your home planet, are you?” Jane joked, jerking his thumb at the now witnessed stars.

“No,” Tavish snorted. “Not exactly. But I…” He trailed off.

Now it was Jane’s turn to bring his hands to the sides of Tavish’s face, his own ring warm from where he’d been cradling it inside his fist. “What is it, Tav? You can tell me.”

Tavish looked not at the stars nor the horizon, but the ground, kicking the wooden deck neither of them had ever gotten around to re-staining. “I feel…I feel the hills always calling out to me. Like there’s something in my bones that just wants to rest, to go back where it’s green, to where it isn’t so bloody dry. Every time we visit I think ‘is this the last time I’ll ever see it? The very last time? Am I going to be too old or too tired the next time around, and never feel like I’m home again?’”

Jane watched the worry lines in Tavish’s forehead. “You want to go back to Scotland.”

“I dunno. Just the more my eye goes the more I…I dunno.”

They hung in silence for a while longer, just breathing. Jane hadn’t felt the need to wear his helmet for a long time, not at home, not at this mansion that was their private oasis from the rest of the world. Were money made their problems—if not vanish—then kept far back beyond the fence where they never had to think about them unless they ventured beyond. Where, even with BLU’s protection no longer keeping the various chapters of local and federal law enforcement trying to wrangle some comeuppance out of the soldier for sins past, he still had a place of refuge.

“Let’s go,” Jane said.

Tavish looked away. “I don’t mean for a visit Jane, I mean…”

“I know,” Jane insisted. Tavish’s milky eye fixed him with disbelief. “You want to go home. I get it. We should go.”

Tavish stared at him, still uncomprehending. “Jane you know that would mean…”

“I know,” Jane repeated.

A warm, subtle smile filled Tavish’s face, and neither of them had to say any more. Tavish drew Jane in closer, and the two of them rocked in the wind that had just picked up again.

***

“Jane,” Tavish frowned as he examined the box Jane had dropped thunderously at the bottom of the stairs, “do you really need to bring all of these?”

“Hey, I’m not trying to make you get rid of your treasured possessions,” Jane pointed out, depositing a second box filled entirely with Guns & Haircuts net to the first.

“We’re not going to have space for these,” Tavish retorted. “It’s going to be a tiny little thing, remember? They don’t build mansions in Ullapool.”

Moving had left the New Mexico mansion barren and faded where pictures had hung on the wall since Tavish had first moved in. Now they were all gone, sold off as their attempts to downsize left only what was necessary and a few DeGroot family heirlooms.

It twisted something in Jane to see their home of three decades slowly dismantled into carpet scuffs and cardboard boxes. This had been his dwelling longer than any other, a turning point from when the Gravel Wars had folded in on themselves and left Jane with an odd freedom he had no idea if he was allowed to act on. Even before that, when Tavish’s mother had still been alive and the halls were filled with her vigor, this place was safe haven for Jane, where he’d come to meet with his forbidden friend and get wasted in his living room.

Now it was mostly empty. Ready for the last goodbyes.

“These are important,” Jane declared of the boxes.

“You haven’t read them in ages,” Tavish pointed out.

“So? They are valuable. Scout sold his whole Bonk! Boy collection for a fortune, and I’ve got twice as many as that little squirt does!” Jane cleared his throat suddenly. “Did.”

It was hard to remember sometimes. He thought his old teammates would want nothing to do with him after the end, but to his surprise they actually kept in contact better than when they’d actually worked together. Maybe owing to the fact he now had an actual address they could send letters to.

Neither Spy nor Sniper had ever actually retired, and over time the tepid, passably courteous correspondences with Sniper had stopped a few years after Spy disappeared entirely. Jane assumed something similar had happened to them both. Occupational hazard.

Engie had complications with his diabetes. The remaining team had shown up for the funeral, except for Pyro, who everyone politely wouldn’t mention, even when Jane asked.

The one person Jane hadn’t expected to outlive was Scout. Scout didn’t write, but he could talk anyone’s ear off, and when coming home from the second funeral in as many years it hit Jane hard that he’d never hear the kitchen phone ringing off its holder again, practically trembling as the other line was just dying to tell him about whatever exactly Scout was so wound up about today.

Tavish noticed Jane’s slipup, and kindly ignored it. Nearly ten years, and Jane still found himself forgetting. “That’s because they were comics,” Tavish explained. “They were collectors items. The only person collecting Guns & Haircuts is you.”

“And don’t I know it!”

Tavish sighed. “Are you even planning on selling them, or are you just going to do the same thing you’ve done with them here and leave them in a big box to gather dust?”

“Of course I’m going to leave them in a big box!” Jane huffed proudly. “What other purpose is there in life other than to gather material objects and then have them accumulate in piles in your living room? You do not see me complaining about the giant, wall mounted family crest, do you?”

Tavish rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed as an old argument became even older. “Ach, fine. I suppose we’ll fine the space.” When he opened his eye, he saw the third giant box Jane was hauling out for the movers. “Jane! We don’t need to be taking that.”

“Yes we do, sonny!” Jane said, slapping a hand on the trumpet of the old record player he hadn’t been able to properly fit in the box. “I do not trust those cassette tapes! The snakes that live in them always try to come out and strangle me!”

“We’ve got some CDs now-” Tavish tried.

“Even worse!” Jane declared. “Australian mind control devices!”

Tavish could see he wasn’t winning, which was just fine by Jane. The magazines were one thing, but the record player he wasn’t leaving without.

“Well,” Tavish said, looking around their house, stripped bare. “I suppose that’s everything.”

Jane couldn’t find a reason to object. He glanced around, looking for one last missing detail, one more reason to stall, but found none. Gently, he took Tavish’s hand and squeezed. “Everything we need.”

***

Scotland was even wetter than the last time they’d visited.

Mud, the most distantly remembered and ancient of substances, clung to Jane’s pant leg all the way up to the knee as they made their way down hundred-year old paths someone really should’ve figured out how to weather-proof by now. But, where Jane was grumbling, Tavish looked about as happy as a clam in water. (Or, Jane supposed was more fitting, a pig in mud.)

“Aha! Look, there it is,” Tavish said, tugging on Jane’s arm and pointing at the glimpse of water creeping around the bend. “Still there.”

“I don’t think they would have up and moved a whole lake while you were gone,” Jane mumbled, but Tavish didn’t seem to hear as he moved with surprising speed down the hill. It was times like this Jane actually envied the cane.

When he finally caught up, Tavish was breathing in the thick air, his chest rising and then collapsing with a satisfied sigh. “Used to play down here as lad. Sometimes there’s a beach, far as the eye can see.”

“Thought you were done with sand,” Jane said, stomping up next to him on damp boots.

Tavish just breamed broadly at him, drinking in the sweep of the land and the crash of the lake. Jane could remember the stories, ones from Tavish’s childhood much better than his own, told and retold so many times that he could flip open the memories like a scrapbook and find exactly where every place in Ullapool fit. An old pub, a crumbling church. The house where the DeGroots used to live, the field where Merasmus’s castle had once briefly towered. So vivid were they, they superimposed themselves over Jane’s (admittedly more insubstantial) memories until he felt he had lived here himself.

“…Gettin’ dark, Tav,” Jane pointed out.

Tavish frowned, and squinted at the horizon. “Aye, I suppose it is.”

“Think the movers are done?” Jane didn’t approve of hiring other people to life heavy things when lifting heavy things had once been one of Jane’s favorite pastimes, but Tavish convinced him that if he threw out his back again, it’d be a lot harder to get him to a doctor.

“Probably,” Tavish nodded. “Let’s go see.”

“Do you think they dropped my magazines?”

“I’m sure they’re fine, love.”

They made the long, much more slippery journey back to their new home. It overlooked Ullapool and the coast, but was nevertheless removed enough that Jane could revel in the privacy he had grown used to. Privacy was not on Tavish’s mind when they’d walked through town that first time, however, as he’d greeted nearly everyone who came their way. It had shocked Jane how many people knew him, or at least recognized the DeGroot name, and greeted Tavish as familiarly as they would have had he been gone for only a few weeks rather than years.

It was good, to see Tavish like this. Even now, as they climbed slowly back up the hill, Jane watched him out the corner of his eye, smiling at the look of serenity that hadn’t been on his husband’s face so naturally in years.

“Isn’t this cozy,” Tavish said lovingly as they crossed the threshold of their new home.

That it was. Jane had worried he had grown soft living in luxury, that his years of being rich and retied would make him forgot that he’d once loved his little apartment, had cherished the security its simplicity had given him. But now that he was back inside four walls, surrounded by the items that had come to mean things beyond their purpose, a swell of pleasant familiarity welled up in him. The curtains blocked out the last of the fading light through soft yellow. There was a fireplace (modern and gas powered) but one ready to fill the house with a warm glow.

Tavish made the motions to begin unpacking, but Jane’s pretense of rooting though the boxes had a different goal in mind. Preoccupied, Tavish didn’t turn around until Jane finally slipped the record into place.

Perking, Tavish looked over his shoulder to see Jane offering his hand as the music bubbled slowly to life. “Been a long time since we danced,” Jane said.

Tavish’s smile fit well in this homey, quiet room. He took Jane’s hand, and let Jane pull him up off his knees until they were chest to chest, resting his chin on Jane’s shoulder.

“Too long,” he agreed.

They began sway rhythmlessly to music in the middle of the tiny living room, caring little where they put their feet as long as it wasn’t one top of one another. Jane loved the record player, needed it more these days, as it was one of the only things that made the horrid, incessant ringing in his ears quiet for just a short while. Leaving the fan on at night might help him get to sleep, but the was no denying the scratching notes out of the player were a world more enjoyable.

It was piano piece, one he’d heard Tavish play now and again. There was no space for a grand piano here in this little cottage on the hill, but maybe they could get a smaller one, and Tavish could try teaching him again. Like he’d promised so long ago.

So many promises that’d slipped through the cracks, both to each other and themselves. Things they simply couldn’t do anymore. Ever since the scare with Jane’s lung cancer, they had tried to do better, had realized what they had built meant something and they couldn’t go piddling away with their complacent recklessness. Jane had quit smoking, Tavish had quit drinking as part of the deal.

But still, there were other things, other mistakes that had compounded over the years. Jane always kept thinking he should have been over it by now, that for how many gentle touches Tavish had placed against him, he should forget the violence those same hands had once brought him. The times they’d shoved a sword into Jane’s gut. The bombs from nowhere. The individual atrocities. It was duller now, the years had been good enough to do that, but if Tavish’s memories were anything like Jane’s, he understood why the ex-demoman sometimes woke screaming in the middle of the night, needing to be reminded—soothed, assured, sometimes begged—that the Jane beside him wasn’t the monster from his dreams.

That was the real tragedy of the War. Officially, all they had been paid to do was kill each other—the horrors they chose to inflict on one another had been their own doing, their own wills brought to fruition. RED had never asked Tavish to shove Jane’s shovel down its owner's throat, laughing vengefully all the while. Jane was sure he’d done equally as cruel things to Tavish during those hell times, but had trouble recalling exactly what. It’s much easier to remember the sins committed against you, than those you have unleashed yourself.

Those hands, those bloodstained, gentle, perfect hands, rubbed circles and Jane’s back, and he sighed. He’d listened to this record enough to know it was getting to the end of this side, but he found he didn’t want to move. He wanted to keep standing here, swaying with the man he loved in their home in the mountains, remembering that they had earned this.

“I cherish these moments we spend together,” he said resolutely into Tavish’s chest.

“Every one of them,” Tavish agreed.

Eventually they would lay down, rest their old bones in their new bed, but for now they held each other in the slowly encroaching night, the sound of rain playing its first patter on the roof.

#tf2 fanfiction #demosolly #boots n bombs

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nomimits7 · 3 years

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Cold Phoenix |13|

Title: Cold Phoenix

Pairing: FBI BTS x Gang/mafia member (named) reader

Genre: Mission au, FBI au, Gang au

Warnings: Angst, manipulation, riddles (sorry), betrayal

Summary: Being born as the Taboo child between the good and the bad of this world, Zebah grew up believing she was just another one of the stolen. But just like the moon that needs the sun to shine, seven FBI agents enter her life with the promise of freedom. Before long Zebah realizes she is just another pawn in the game of Mafia vs. FBI. Will Zebah ever learn to trust the seven men that betrayed her to get what they wanted? Will she ever believe the truth behind her own birth? Or will Zebah fall alongside her family that lied to her from the start?

A/N: This story is told in the third person. Try to guess who the narrator is! Also this is my first time writing in this style. Please do tell me what you think. Should I keep to it or not?? The bold words are flashbacks of past scenes. The normal words are what the narrator tells

Part 12

You would think moments like those would make the boys soft. It did, but not soft enough to kill the hunger they had within them. Even if those boys each swore an oath to serve and protect the lives of the innocent, they still had a very well-hidden sadistic side to them. They wanted to know what it would feel like to see the betrayal in Zebah’s eyes. They wanted to hear her sobs and see her tears as they took away what little freedom she managed to get. For what reason I do not know. But I do know that the moment their wish came true, they regretted it deeply.

I remember the day all hell broke loose. The boys somehow convinced Zebah to allow them access to Phoenix’s home base. Zebah even gave them a tour and everything. Yes, she knew they were FBI agents, but a little naïve part of her brain told her that she was special enough for them. she believed that once they saw what she grew up in they would change their mind on taking down Phoenix. Let me rephrase…

Maybe they would consider to not take down the entire gang, but just those in the higher positions. You see, those seven had no idea how many innocent children where part of the gang and no court would allow them any normalcy. All they would see is Phoenix.

“And this is where we train. It’s not much but its home. Look, I know you guys want to take this all away, but this is all I ever knew. All most of the rookies know. Can’t you guys just let them be? I mean as much as I want out this is still my family, maybe not the higher ups but most of them are.” Zebah said. Regret evident in her voice. She knew that if she didn’t try and stop them from taking away everything, that she would have also played a role in taking down her family, destroying the innocent even more. Was freedom really worth losing her only childhood memories? Even if they weren’t pleasant?

“Oh Zebah. We’ll think about it okay. But I can’t make any promises” Destruct said. Little to no intention of thinking about it. Even if all seven of them could silently loose themselves in her smile, they would see through with their plan. They would make sure to take down Phoenix so that they could take down one of their own. Their boss has been meddling with the wrong people and taking away hard-earned praise. They were sick of it.

“Zebah. I want to thank you on behalf of the entire team for showing us your home base. We really could not have achieved what we’re about to do without you leaking us those crucial documents. Thank you for betraying your family and believing in the impossible. I hope you enjoy prison” Sunny said a bit too excited.

Zebah stood there, completely frozen as realization made its way into her eyes. The change in her emotions was indeed a rarity to see. Her confused eyes turned to shock and realization, tears threating to fall any moment. The boys nearly took out their phones to record her reaction. It was priceless.

But they did not anticipate her level of wrath. They knew she would be mad, but what came next was far from anything they expected to encounter from her. Tears slowly made their way down her cheeks as she simply stared at the seven. They broke her heart, she had silently placed her trust in them. She gave them her heart without even realizing when or how she did. She knew this would happen, but she had a little hope that things would turn out differently.

“You were never going to keep up your end of the deal, where you?” Zebah asked softly. Her voice broken and eyes sad with little to no hope. She couldn’t even look at them without sounding lost.

“The only part of the deal that we would have held up was to tell you your past” T.A said slowly as he observed Zebah. Something felt off and he wanted to know what it was.

“You lied” Zebah said as she shifted her gaze from the wall to the floor. More tears streaming down, but no sobs followed.

“Of course, we did. Did you really think we would have helped you? How naïve are you? We have a job to do, no matter the consequences” Moon said slightly offended.

“You lied about caring. You- you never cared” Zebah softly said finally making eye contact. Her stark blue eyes taking on a grey colour as her last shimmer of hope drained out.

“Even if you are the daughter of agent S.U.N. you’re still in the mafia. So no, we don’t care about yo-“ A.D. was cut off by Zebah herself after his slipup.

“What?”

Part 14

~University has been a bitch

Nomi <3

#nomimits7 #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts au #bts mafia #bts fbi #mafia au #fbi au #namjoon #seokjin #hoseok #yoongi #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #zebah #zzz

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pikashadow · 3 years

Text

Approaching That Summer Sky a Diamond no Ace fanfiction

Rating: T

Pairing: Sawamura/Narumiya (Established Relationship)

Words: 9,032

Plot: Mei finds out from Itsuki that Eijun became the ace. And he isn't pleased. In other news, Eijun decides he's alright with letting the rest of his team (and the public) know about their relationship

Set after the summer tournament opening ceremony. To be more specific, this takes place sometime after Itsuki tells Mei about Eijun becoming the ace during Act II Chapter 143 of the manga and episode 46 of the anime.

A.N.: Recently, I’ve been getting back into Daiya no A. And after watching Eijun become the ace for the nth time, a plot bunny came to me. Which is great because we need more Eijun and Mei interactions.

This is set after the summer tournament opening ceremony. To be more specific, this takes place sometime after Itsuki tells Mei about Eijun becoming the ace during Act II Chapter 143 of the manga and episode 46 of the anime.

This is part two of my Summer Sky series, but you don’t need to read the first part to read this part.

I hope y’all enjoy it!

Mei couldn’t believe the nerve of his boyfriend.

He strode around the stadium, dark blue eyes on the lookout for Seidou colors.

And their idiot of an ace.

He couldn’t believe that idiot was forcing him to look for him. Knowing him as well as he did, though, he knew it was on purpose.

His boyfriend was extremely competitive and hated losing to him. He always found such joy whenever he did win against him. And while it annoyed him that he would lose, it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. At least in person or over video call. Because then he would at least get to see his boyfriend’s cute happy face. Over text was still annoying (especially when he would just spam emoticons and ignore any attempts to continue the conversation).

Thankfully, people could tell he was in a foul mood, steering clear of him and leaving enough room for him to walk without bumping into anyone or having to step around someone.

He ignored the whispers and the other teams’ gazes, focused on finding Seidou’s ace.

A couple of brave (or stupid) players spoke in a normal tone, his ears pricking up when they said his name.

“Oi, isn’t that Inashiro’s Narumiya Mei?”

“Yeah, it’s weird seeing him without his teammates. I wonder where they are.”

“More importantly, I feel sorry for the person who angered him. He looks ready to kill.”

He almost snorted.

What an exaggeration.

While he couldn’t harm Seidou’s ace (not that he planned on it in the first place), he still planned on giving him an earful.

Because what the hell?

Seidou’s ace, his boyfriend, didn’t even tell him he became the ace.

Didn’t he think even a little bit that he would like to know?

(Especially after what happened during the spring tournament. Did he forget about how he encouraged him?)

He had of course heard about the game with Hakuryuu, unable to stop the warmth and… pride when his boyfriend personally told him the news himself.

(… Not that he said anything to the person himself. Instead, after congratulating him, he warned him not to let it go to his head, mentioning how one great practice game didn’t mean he would become the ace. And either he took the warning to heart (he doubted it) or something else happened, but he kept his feet on the ground.)

And after hearing all about the practice games they won, he could safely assume he had been doing well.

But becoming the ace?

What had happened for him to suddenly become the ace?

And why didn’t he tell him anything?

With the summer tournament starting, they wouldn’t get to meet up as often. So unfortunately, that meant he had to track down his terrible boyfriend before they left.

The only good thing was that no one dared bother him as he continued to look. Which was good (and very wise). He refused to waste his time on people he didn’t even know. Or care about.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to spot the unforgettable Seidou uniforms. And a very familiar back with the unmistakable number one on his jersey.

(At first, he almost missed him. Seidou’s ace was rarely quiet, and because of that, it was easy to find him wherever he was. If it wasn’t for that back, he would’ve almost walked past them.)

As he walked closer, he heard a familiar laugh.

… Great. Kazuya’s there.

He couldn’t hear whatever Kazuya was talking about, but it seemed he finished whatever he wanted to say to the team, already turning around to speak to someone else.

Not that he cared if he interrupted whatever Kazuya was talking about, but if he finished, it would make things easier.

A few Seidou players he didn’t recognize spotted him, their eyes widening. But before they could speak up and possibly warn their ace, he reached out, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck.

Eijun squawked, almost losing his balance as someone grabbed him and pulled him toward them. He started struggling, trying to get them to let go.

And while the rest of Seidou were no doubt used to him squawking, they all turned to look at him, various degrees of surprise and shock on their faces once they registered his presence.

“Narumiya Mei?”

Eijun froze at the mention of his name, his struggling starting anew as he tried to twist his head and look at him. “Mei? What are you doing here?”

Belatedly, he realized his mistake, freezing and watching as his teammates’ eyes widened even more (if possible).

And while Mei would normally take great pleasure in their reactions, they (unfortunately) didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t help but smirk in their direction, though, amused as most of them glared at him.

(He could’ve sworn he heard a few people growling, but it was probably just his imagination.)

He pulled Eijun closer, ignoring his noticeably weak protests before looking over at Kazuya. “I’m stealing him for a bit.”

Not bothering to wait for a response, he already turned away, pulling Eijun with him. Eijun was still protesting at the way he held him, but he followed obediently, shooting his teammates a half guilty and half embarrassed look.

“Don’t take too long. And make sure to give him back,” Kazuya said, smirking that all too familiar (and annoying) knowing smirk of his.

He waved flippantly with his free hand, not in the mood to deal with him.

Eijun, on the other hand, glared at him. “We know that, Cap! We’ll—” His eyes widened, belatedly realizing what he was saying and cut himself off. “I-I mean, I’ll be back soon.”

Much to his irritation, Miyuki looked way too amused at his slipup. “Didn’t know you two were that close, Sawamura.” He snickered, giving him another knowing smirk.

But before Eijun could respond, Mei tugged him sharply, causing him to let out a pained yelp. It was awkward with the way Mei held him, but he managed to turn his head enough so he could give him a glare.

“Come on, Eijun. We don’t have time for this.” Mei looked over his shoulder, finally allowing Eijun to see his face.

Eijun almost flinched at seeing his dark blue eyes and scowl. So it wasn’t his imagination that his boyfriend sounded angry? He quickly racked his brain, wondering what he did to anger him but drew a blank. Besides not texting him as much recently, he couldn’t think of anything.

And knowing Mei as well as he did, he knew Mei wasn’t angry about the texting.

But then why?

Why was he angry with him?

He would apologize, but he didn’t even know what he did.

But before he could even attempt at asking him, Mei pulled him along, already walking away and ignoring the sudden vocal protests from his teammates.

Contrary to what Cap thought, he wasn’t hiding his relationship with Mei from the rest of his teammates. He just… never found a good time to tell them. He liked to comfort himself with the thought that if his teammates asked, he would’ve told them the truth.

As he watched them react now, though, he found himself wishing he could’ve told them earlier.

Worse, his only ally in this situation was Miyuki freaking Kazuya.

That guy was definitely enjoying this. And he would no doubt tell the rest of the team about his relationship with Mei.

He groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

As Mei frequently reminded him, he wasn’t the best liar. And he was planning on telling them about it anyway. So really, it was no big deal.

But knowing who he had as an ally made him dread the upcoming conversation.

ZZZ

It didn’t take long for the rest of Seidou to turn to Kazuya, multiple people loudly protesting at what happened and demanding an explanation.

(Because Sawamura and Narumiya? What the hell? When did this happen? Would their ace be alright?)

Kazuya tried keeping a straight face as he raised a hand, asking them to quiet down.

But Kuramochi glaring at him made him realize he had failed.

“What the hell, Miyuki?! Why did you let Narumiya Mei kidnap Sawamura?”

He almost snickered, but miraculously, he stopped himself from doing so. He couldn’t stop the amused smirk from appearing, though. “Calm down. Sawamura will be alright.”

But that only infuriated Kuramochi more (if possible). “Stop enjoying this! This is serious! Shouldn’t we do something?”

This time, he snorted, unable to help it at the ridiculousness of the situation. “He’ll be fine.” He clicked his tongue as he noticed Kuramochi and a few others looking in the direction they left, as though about to chase after them. “Don’t go after them.”

Some of his teammates froze, not wanting to annoy him further.

Kuramochi turned his head to look at him, still glaring. “How do you know he’ll be alright?”

Kazuya resisted the urge to sigh. So much for enjoying the situation.

But before he answered, an idea came to him, causing him to almost smirk.

If he played his cards right, he would enjoy a much different (but still very entertaining) show.

“Those two are close friends,” he said, barely stopping himself from smirking at how everyone’s eyes widened in unison.

“Those two? Close friends? Sure didn’t seem like it,” Kuramochi grumbled. He couldn’t say he was too surprised (because of course Sawamura managed to somehow befriend Narumiya Mei of all people). He just wished his roommate had told him about it himself, feeling annoyed Miyuki knew about it before him.

Haruichi hummed thoughtfully, causing everyone to look at him. “It makes sense, though.”

“What does?”

Haruichi frowned, remembering what happened during the spring tournament. “During the Inashiro and Teitou game, he kept looking up at us. I thought I was imagining things at the time, so I didn’t think too much about it. But now I understand. He was looking for Eijun-kun.”

What he didn’t tell them was how Eijun had looked after the game as he talked about an ace being cool.

Was Eijun-kun talking about Narumiya-san?

Kazuya almost snickered as everyone else let out understanding noises. He remembered thinking Mei was being a little too obvious (even for someone like him), causing him to shake his head in amusement.

But before he could relax, Kuramochi frowned, shooting him a suspicious look. “Why do you know about this and we don’t?”

Thankfully, he had an explanation ready. “He accidentally told me one day. You know him. He’s bad at keeping secrets. If you had asked him about it, he would’ve told you the truth.”

(He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either.)

Kuramochi pursed his lips, not mentioning how they hadn’t even heard about this until now. “So?”

Being the guy that Kazuya was, he only raised his eyebrows. “So what?”

Kuramochi felt his eye twitch, resisting the urge to grab their sorry excuse for a captain and shake him like Sawamura used to. “How did they become so close? They’re enemies!”

Everyone else nodded, still a little surprised to hear about Sawamura’s relationship with Narumiya Mei but also eager to hear more about it.

But Kazuya only shook his head, looking amused as most of them glared at him. “That’s his business. I’ll let him tell you the details.”

“You don’t normally care about that sort of thing,” Kuramochi pointed out, looking suspicious.

Kazuya shrugged, unbothered by his suspicion. “What can I say? I turned over a new leaf.”

“Liar!”

He almost snickered at the immediate response, knowing no one would believe that. “I’m serious. If you want to know, you have to ask him yourself.” He smirked, amused. “And this way, we’ll all get to watch him squirm together.”

“… You really are the worst.”

He laughed, grinning. “Thank you!”

“It wasn’t a compliment!”

ZZZ

Eijun knew he could be oblivious and very dense at times.

But he would need to be blind to miss the way everyone stared at them.

They must be quite the sight.

Mei had gotten tired of holding him by the scruff of his neck, now holding the back of his jersey. He ended up half pulling and half dragging him (which surprised him because he didn’t know he was this strong. He wasn’t this strong the last time they met. He was both excited and nervous to see how it affected his pitching. … Come to think of it, Cap did say he didn’t have any weaknesses).

By this point, he had stopped struggling, allowing Mei to do what he wanted. He hadn’t said anything since they walked away from his teammates, so he could safely assume Mei was waiting until they were alone to start talking.

Which suited him just fine.

Their relationship was their business. No one else needed to know about it.

He suddenly felt grateful for his understanding boyfriend.

… Well, it wasn’t understanding so much as not caring what people thought. Mei had already told his teammates about their relationship and would’ve told everyone here if given the choice. The only reason Mei hadn’t done anything to out their relationship a while ago was because of him.

He felt bad for making him wait, but he had wanted to wait until he at least became the ace. Mei wouldn’t care what people thought about their relationship, but he knew it would’ve been much worse if they had outed their relationship last year. At least now, they were somewhat equal. Some people would disagree, of course, but he found he didn’t care. As long as they didn’t interfere with their relationship, he could care less what people thought.

“Oi, isn’t that Narumiya Mei?”

“Yeah, and he’s with Seidou’s ace!”

“Oh, that loud guy, right? They must have a cozy relationship.”

Eijun let out a surprised noise as Mei stopped walking, unable to stop himself from gaping as he promptly let go of him. He stumbled, briefly losing his balance without his support.

But Mei was there in a flash (was he always that fast?), easily stepping into his personal space to hold him up and provide support until he could stand up straight without it.

He opened his mouth to thank him, but Mei quickly turned around, only pausing to grab his wrist and continue walking as if nothing happened.

He blinked a few times, looking behind him at where they were a moment ago, confused.

… What just happened?

While he certainly felt grateful (and happy) to follow Mei on his own feet rather than being dragged along, he couldn’t help but feel baffled as to why it happened.

Wasn’t Mei still angry with him?

Maybe it was because those players were talking about them?

… No.

That was impossible.

Mei didn’t care what people thought. And this time was probably no different.

Maybe he got tired of dragging him and thought it was faster if he let him walk?

He looked back at Mei, nodding to himself.

Now that sounded more like him.

A few minutes later, they finally found a spot unoccupied near the northern exit of the stadium. Mei led them over to a pillar almost covered in shadows, only letting go when he felt satisfied no one would give them a second glance.

Eijun thought Mei would want to greet him (especially since they couldn’t do it in front of his teammates), but to his surprise, Mei created some distance between them, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He stayed close enough that he could reach out and touch him if he wanted, but when he tried reaching out, his boyfriend gave him a warning look, causing him to hastily drop his hand.

All they could hear was the buzzing of the cicadas in the trees around them.

… He couldn’t wait anymore.

“Why are you angry?” he blurted. And not happy.

Normally, Mei would be almost annoyingly happy to see him. His whole face would light up, that cheeky grin Eijun both liked and disliked appearing on his face as he teased him about being happy to see him. His bright blue eyes would sparkle with happiness and a bit of mischief.

He loved seeing Mei look happy. Especially when he was the cause of it.

It had been a while since he last saw it in person and not over a video call. If he were honest, he didn’t even think he would get to meet Mei today. So he was already happy Mei came looking for him.

He didn’t know what he did to anger him. He wanted to apologize for whatever he did so he could see his happy face.

Mei raised his eyebrows, as if surprised he even asked. “Why?” he echoed mockingly, finally uncrossing his arms. But his hands quickly formed fists at his sides, Eijun wishing he could reach out and hold them so he didn’t hurt himself. “You don’t know?”

When Eijun only gave him a blank look, he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course you don’t.” Eijun frowned, wondering if that was an insult. But before he could ask, Mei jabbed his chest with a finger. “Don’t you have something to tell me? Something important?”

If it were any other occasion, Mei would’ve laughed at his baffled look.

He shook his head, almost snorting. “You’re unbelievable.”

… Now that sounded like an insult.

“Look, I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Stop beating around the bush, and just tell me!” Eijun huffed, frustrated.

All he wanted was to apologize so they could enjoy the rest of their time together. Mei had to know they didn’t have a lot of time left.

Why couldn’t he just tell him? Was that so hard?

Looking unfazed by his visible frustration, Mei reached out, pulling on the back of his jersey.

… Huh?

Why was he pulling on his jersey?

Just as he was about to ask, Mei huffed, pointing to his back. He frowned, not understanding why he pointed at his back. The back of his jersey only had his number…

His eyes widened, his mouth forming an O as realization dawned on him.

Mei gave him a scornful look, no doubt recognizing the reaction. “Is there something you want to tell me, Seidou’s ace?”

Eijun smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “So that’s what this is about.”

“You didn’t think I would like to know that information?”

Eijun winced at his cold tone and icy glare. It wasn’t his first time on the receiving end of Mei’s icy glare, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. “This is all a huge misunderstanding—”

“Don’t give me that!”

Eijun shrank back, startled by his raised voice.

“I had to hear the news from Itsuki. You were supposed to be the one who told me that news. Not him!” Mei’s fists trembled by his sides, his normally bright blue eyes a dark blue. Eijun felt his heart clench at the noticeable hurt in his boyfriend’s voice, watching as his shoulders shook. He felt awful. “You’re lucky I heard it from him and not from the gossip going around or I’d—”

Eijun couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his back. “I’m sorry!”

Mei froze at the contact, blinking as he belatedly registered the apology. “Eh?”

If it were any other occasion, Eijun would tease him for his less than eloquent response.

“I said I’m sorry,” he murmured, pulling back. But before he could completely let go, his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his back, keeping him close and almost causing a smile to form on his face. “I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted. “I knew there was a chance of us meeting today, and I thought it would be great to surprise you with the news.”

He laughed humorlessly. “I forgot that I’m not in Nagano. And that people talk.” He pulled back enough so Mei could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I… wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Mei wanted to sigh. Because that was so Eijun.

He even wanted to protest that Eijun didn’t hurt him and that he only angered him.

But instead he shook his head, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Idiot,” he scolded. There was no heat in his words, though. Eijun gave him another sheepish smile, his smile turning into his normal one at the sight of fond bright blue eyes.

“You didn’t need to do that. I would’ve been happy if you had just texted me the news,” Mei said, giving him an amused look.

To his amusement, Eijun only nodded his head enthusiastically. “This Sawamura Eijun shall endeavor to remember that.”

Mei laughed. It was a bright and happy laugh (his real laugh), causing warmth to grow inside his chest and a goofy smile to appear on his face.

He felt happy (and smug) that only he could make him laugh like that.

Mei let go with one arm to poke him in the nose, smiling as Eijun only blinked. “You silly boy. I keep telling you that you don’t need to be so formal with me.”

“But you’re the one who keeps reminding me that I need to speak to you with more respect,” Eijun pointed out, grinning devilishly.

“And yet you never do it,” Mei said, raising his eyebrows.

Eijun shrugged. “Oops.” He laughed at Mei’s mock insulted look.

A thought came to him, causing his mouth to open.

Only to yelp as Mei jabbed him in his ribs with his index fingers.

“Ow! What did you do that for?”

Mei huffed. His boyfriend was definitely spending too much time with Kazuya.

… And he would spend even more time with him now that he became the ace.

Damn it.

“Stop being cheeky. It doesn’t suit you.”

But instead of looking insulted, Eijun only smiled, amused. “How could I forget? Being cheeky is your thing.”

Mei smirked, looking proud. “Exactly!”

“So wouldn’t you say that I learned from the best?”

Mei laughed, eyes happy and soft. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Eijun caught him off guard. He wasn’t normally this playful. Or willing to feed his ego. “What’s with you? You’re not normally like this.”

Eijun gasped, eyes gleaming mischievously. “What, you don’t want me to act like you? I’m shocked!”

“Shut it, you. You know what I mean.”

Eijun laughed. And it wasn’t his signature, loud laugh either. It was a much softer and happy laugh. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

Despite having seen it countless times before, Mei almost had to look away at his hopeful look. He was too cute.

… And it almost made him forget he was angry in the first place.

He frowned, lips twitching and threatening to burst into a smile. “… I suppose.”

Eijun accidentally let out a loud cheer, hugging him once more. “Thank you! I really am sorry. I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Idiot. Your voice is too loud. Someone will hear you,” Mei scolded. But just like earlier, there was no heat in it.

“… Bet you would like that,” Eijun murmured into his uniform.

“What was that?”

Eijun pulled away, shaking his head and giving him an innocent smile. “It’s nothing.”

Mei almost snorted at the obvious lie, giving him an unconvinced look. “Like I believe that.” He was about to press for more details, but his boyfriend reached out with one hand, touching his shoulder.

His lips twitched once more as Eijun gave him an expectant look. Knowing him as well as he did, he was familiar with that look.

An idea came to him, causing him to almost smirk.

He leaned in, kissing him.

But he couldn’t help but tease him, purposely avoiding his lips and kissing his cheek instead.

Pulling back, he snickered as Eijun glared at him. “So impatient,” he murmured, an impish gleam in his eyes. “I thought you liked all my kisses. No matter where they end up.”

And before a red faced Eijun could yell at him, he leaned in once more and finally gave him what he wanted by kissing his lips.

Eijun froze briefly at the contact before quickly relaxing, pressing himself further into his embrace.

The kiss was gentle and innocent.

Much to his disappointment, the kiss didn’t last long, his boyfriend already pulling away from him.

Mei gave him an amused look at the pout on his face. He waited purposely for a few moments before deciding one kiss wasn’t enough and leaned back in.

Eijun closed his eyes, tightening his grip on his uniform as he responded.

Mei’s lips tasted sweet, causing him to wonder if he had chewed some gum earlier.

It was a long moment before Mei pulled away, an amused smirk on his face as Eijun chased after his lips.

He gave in, allowing him to kiss him.

Eijun briefly remembered where they were, but it quickly disappeared as the kiss turned more passionate. He responded eagerly, trying to match the pace and not wanting to lose.

He shivered as he felt fingers brushing his sensitive sides, somehow feeling the touch through his uniform. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel that irritatingly familiar smirk on his face, causing him to huff into the kiss.

It was unfair how much Mei’s touches affected him. They’ve been dating for a while now, and for some reason, he thought his body would be accustomed to his touches by now.

The only good thing was that Mei was affected by his touches as much as he was by his.

As they pulled away to take a breather, Eijun couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing every inch of his face that he could reach.

… Which was easy since he was taller than his boyfriend (by a centimeter and only a centimeter he liked to remind him, only amusing him further).

Mei stood still as he showed his love, unable to stop himself from laughing as he kissed both his cheeks, nose, and forehead in quick succession.

When it didn’t look like he was going to stop anytime soon, he reached up to his hair and pulled a little, causing him to pause and look at him.

“While I enjoy your attention,” Mei said, smirking as Eijun pouted. “Have you forgotten where we are?”

They were hidden by the pillar, and as long as someone didn’t look too closely, they wouldn’t spot them. But there was always a chance someone could see them.

Eijun pulled away, frowning at the reminder and Mei stopping him. “I thought that’s why you dragged me over here in the first place!” he whined.

Mei grinned, combing his hands through his hair fondly. “I’m just reminding you not to get carried away.” He snickered as Eijun grumbled about not getting carried away, watching as the other pitcher closed his eyes at the gentle touch.

“I thought you didn’t want to tell people about us.”

Eijun reluctantly opened his eyes, remembering what happened earlier. And before he could think too much about it, his mouth opened impulsively. “Is that what happened earlier?” he blurted.

Mei’s eyes widened before looking away from him with a huff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eijun couldn’t stop the disappointed whine from escaping as he stopped combing his hair and let go. “Don’t give me that. You were content dragging me until those guys spoke up.” He watched him for a reaction, but the only thing Mei did was shrug. “I thought you didn’t care what people thought.” His voice was soft and confused, almost sounding concerned.

Mei looked back at him, chin tilted condescendingly. “I don’t.”

“Then why?”

But to his confusion, Mei only gave him an unreadable look.

He let out a huff of his own, frustrated he wouldn’t talk to him. “I… You’re so… Why can’t you just—”

“You do, though.”

Eijun blinked a few times, confused. “Eh?”

Mei glared mutinously, reluctantly allowing him to hold his hands. “I don’t care. But you do, though.”

Eijun’s eyes widened, his mouth opening. “You… You did it for me?” His voice was impossibly soft. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mei didn’t hear him.

“… You heard what they said,” Mei grumbled, somehow hearing him. His ears reddened as Eijun continued staring at him. “I don’t want to taint your reputation. Especially now that you’re the ace.”

To his irritation, Eijun only snorted, giving him an incredulous look. “As if you’ve done anything that bad.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Unless it’s something I haven’t heard about.”

Mei scowled at his expectant look, tempted to jab him in the ribs again. “I don’t have anything to tell you.”

Eijun nodded, as if that made sense. “There you go. See? That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

Mei was about to scold him for patronizing him. But then he belatedly registered what he wasn’t saying. “You mean… you’re alright with letting people know?” he asked slowly.

Eijun shrugged. “As long as they don’t interfere with our relationship, I don’t care what they think.”

Mei couldn’t help but gape at him for a couple of moments. When did he start thinking that? He didn’t tell him anything. “What changed?” he asked, curious.

“… I wanted to wait until I became the ace. People will still talk regardless, but I thought it might make things easier.” Eijun smiled sheepishly.

Now Mei was the one confused. “Easier?”

Eijun let go of his hands to hold up his index fingers. “Before, you were the ace.” He indicated one of his fingers by wiggling it slightly. “While I was just a reserve pitcher. Not to mention a first year.” He wiggled his other finger. “But now, I’m the ace and a second year” -he wiggled one finger- “and you’re the ace.” He wiggled his other finger one last time before smiling proudly.

Mei blinked a few times, trying to decide whether what just happened was adorable or confusing. Or both. Only Eijun could do this to him. “… So what you’re saying is that the attention won’t be as bad since we’re equal in standing?”

Eijun beamed, pointing at him with one finger. “Exactly!”

“… You do realize that I’m still a year older than you, right?”

Eijun frowned at him, placing his hands on his hips. “I wasn’t talking about age. I was talking about experience.” When Mei only gave him a blank look, he hummed, wondering how to explain it. “As a first year, no one knows you that well. It probably would’ve been weird if people found out I was dating you last year. But now, people have heard of me. And they’re starting to hear more about me now that I became the ace.”

He paused, laughing his signature (and obnoxious) laughs. “And they’ll continue to talk about me when I pitch well during the tournament.”

Mei shook his head, rolling his eyes. “But I still outrank you when it comes to experience.” And I’m still the king.

Eijun huffed, pointing at him again, as if he somehow read his mind. “That isn’t important right now.”

Mei felt his lips twitch as he glared at him. “I thought we were talking about experience.”

“Ah! Exposure! That’s the word I was looking for,” Eijun said, looking at him triumphantly.

Mei laughed hard, giving him an amused look. “How did you mess that up?” Chuckles escaped his mouth as Eijun glared at him.

“S-Shut up! I didn’t mean to!”

“Let’s go back to what we were talking about,” Mei suggested, but his voice still sounded amused, causing him to feel irritated.

“Fine! But stop sounding so amused, jerk!”

“… Impossible.” Mei snickered as he gave him another dirty look. “I’ve still had more exposure than you.”

Eijun growled, tempted to hit him. “But every little bit helps! Besides, I’m not saying that we have to go out there right now and declare our relationship to everyone.”

“Oh? And here I thought you don’t care what they think.”

Eijun stomped his foot, agitated. “I don’t!” He paused before avoiding eye contact. “I don’t care. But I care what they think of you. What if they badmouth you?”

Mei scoffed. “I don’t care. And why exactly would they badmouth me?”

Eijun looked strangely hesitant, which was a rare occurrence with him.

“You could have anyone you wanted. And yet you chose me.”

He couldn’t stop himself from snorting, feeling relieved as Eijun met his eyes once more. “I don’t care what anyone thinks,” he repeated, placing his hands on his hips. “It’s not their decision who I end up with. I chose you because I like you. And I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon.” Eijun beamed at him, no longer looking worried. “Even if you’re a bit of an idiot at times and drive me crazy.”

Eijun squawked, pointing at him. “You didn’t need to add that last part!”

Mei snickered, reaching out and grabbing his hands. “It’s true, though,” he said cheekily. When Eijun only huffed, he rubbed his thumbs on his knuckles tenderly. “Speaking of letting people know… Do your teammates even know about us?”

Eijun reddened, giving him a sheepish smile. “Not yet. I meant to tell them before now, but I could never find the right timing.”

Mei almost laughed, shaking his head fondly. “You and your timing.” He had shouted about how the timing had to be right when he confessed, too.

(… And yet, he still chose the worst possible timing to confess, a fact he still liked teasing him over.)

“I think they know now, though.”

Mei furrowed his eyebrows. “Because of me?”

“No!” Eijun shouted impulsively, causing him to wince at the volume. “… Sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I think Cap told them after we left,” he continued in a softer voice.

Mei pursed his lips at the mention of Kazuya. “Oh, that’s right. He’s the only one who knows on your team.” While it was helpful to have Kazuya looking out for his boyfriend (especially when he couldn’t always be there for him), he still found himself wishing someone else knew about their relationship.

Of all people on his boyfriend’s team, why did he have to find out?

Eijun nodded, looking determined. “Since they probably know now, I’ll admit to it and tell them the truth.”

Mei raised his eyebrows, surprised. But after a few moments, he nodded, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, that makes sense.” While it would’ve been fun to see his teammates’ reactions in person, he understood this was something Eijun had to do by himself. “What exactly do you plan on telling them?” he asked, curious.

Eijun beamed at him, tightening his grip on his hands. “That I like you and that we’re dating.”

Mei waited for him to continue, but when Eijun only continued beaming, he couldn’t help but laugh, caught off guard. “Wait… That’s it?”

Eijun blinked a few times, confused. “There’s nothing else to tell.” He grinned, eyes gleaming mischievously. “I’m not the type to kiss and tell. Unless you would prefer if I regale them with the whole story?”

Mei snorted, shaking his head. That was so simple and so Eijun. “Do whatever you want. You know that I already told my teammates all about us.” He almost snickered at his wide-eyed look. “Relax. I didn’t tell them everything.” He gave him a suggestive look, snickering as he turned red.

“Well, that’s… That’s good. Not that I would care if you did tell them everything.”

Mei gave him an unconvinced look. “Uh huh. Like I believe that.” He beamed, remembering something. “I tell them all about how nice you are to me. And about all our dates.”

Eijun’s lips twitched. “You mean you brag about it to everyone who’ll listen.”

“It’s to be expected. Everyone wants to listen to information about their ace,” Mei said, puffing his chest out and making Eijun roll his eyes.

“… It’s not like they have a choice,” Eijun muttered.

“What was that?”

Eijun smiled innocently. “Nothing.” He snickered at his insulted look.

Only to shriek as he jabbed him in the ribs.

“Ow! Quit doing that, you jerk!”

Mei huffed, tempted to do it again. “Then quit being so cheeky.” He let out a shriek of his own as Eijun reciprocated, causing him to smirk.

“Now who’s the cheeky one?”

He glared at him, tousling his hair roughly. “Still you, brat!”

Not one to back down, Eijun reciprocated, causing him to squawk.

Their hands turned into a blur of jabs, the two basically wrestling at this point.

Several moments later, both silently agreed to call a truce, letting go to smooth down their hair. Eijun watched, amused as Mei huffed while trying to smooth down his hair.

“You know you could just wear your hat,” he couldn’t help but point out, grinning as Mei gave him another glare.

“Shut it, you. It’s not the same.”

Eijun tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“… I can hide it under a hat to prevent other people from seeing it. But I would still know it’s messed up.”

Eijun hid his laugh behind a fist. What a drama queen.

Mei finally gave up a few moments later, glaring up at his hair mutinously. His eyes widened, belatedly remembering something. He reached out, touching Eijun’s shoulders. “Turn around.”

When Eijun only let out a confused noise, he rolled his eyes. “I said turn around. Let me see the ace number on your back.”

Eijun furrowed his eyebrows. “But didn’t you see it earlier?”

“I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it fully. Just… do as I say.”

To his amusement, Eijun turned around with a huff, dislodging his hands. But in the next moment, he stood up straight, proudly displaying his number.

The ace number looked good on his back. As if it belonged there. And while Mei knew this was just the beginning, he couldn’t help but feel… proud.

Eijun had always talked about becoming the ace, and while he hardly voiced it, he had always known he would one day become the ace.

His boyfriend was the ace.

(He wanted to brag about his boyfriend to anyone who would listen. And then watch smugly as everyone finally paid him the attention he deserved. Because frankly, it was about damn time.)

And although they still had multiple games to play first, he found himself already looking forward to the finals.

Where they’ll face Seidou.

Eijun had to have grown a lot as a pitcher since the last time he saw him pitch. He probably had some new pitches, too.

He had to watch him pitch sometime. Not just as his boyfriend, but as his future opponent and rival.

Eijun started to fidget, looking over his shoulder at him. It was only then Mei realized he hadn’t said anything yet.

He couldn’t help but snort as he reached out, amused by his inability to remain still for long. At first, he reached out with his right hand. But he paused before it could make contact, staring at it for a few moments before promptly switching hands.

It only seemed right to touch him with his pitching hand. Especially as a fellow southpaw pitcher.

Eijun froze at his touch, golden eyes wide. He almost stopped breathing as he noticed which hand touched him.

Mei gently touched the ace number, tracing it with his fingers and his eyes. His lips twitched as Eijun shivered slightly at his light touches, his body twitching to indicate that if he could lean back into the touch, he would. Once he finished tracing it, he moved his hand slightly to the left, his hand no longer touching the number one but still in contact with the ace number.

Mei looked up into golden eyes, Eijun’s breath taken away at the genuine smile on his face. That genuine smile made him feel on top of the world. Like he could take on any number of strong batters and not give up any hits. Or punch the stadium walls down.

(He tried it once. Would not recommend it.)

If Mei demanded him to pitch a no-hitter, he would do it if it meant seeing that smile.

“Congrats, Eijun,” Mei said softly. “I knew you could do it.”

Eijun flushed, pleased with his reaction. He flushed pinker as he noticed the pride in those blue eyes he liked so much. The best part was that Mei wasn’t even trying to hide it from him.

When Mei finally stopped touching him (his heart clenching at how reluctant he looked), Eijun immediately turned around, hugging him.

He let out a happy sound as Mei wrapped his arms around him, keeping him close.

“Thank you, Mei,” he said in a low voice. He pulled back enough so he could look him in the eyes. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

“… Because I’m the king?” Mei joked, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

Eijun rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he leaned into the touch, watching as Mei’s eyes softened at his reaction. “Because you’re the pitcher and ace I respect most.”

When he confessed, Eijun had said something about wanting to become an ace like him. So he knew Eijun somewhat looked up to him and respected him.

But it still felt immensely satisfying to know Eijun recognized his hard work and respected him for it.

(If he didn’t know Eijun as well as he did, he would’ve accused him of just saying that to please him. But Eijun couldn’t lie to save his life. And he was always so straightforward and honest that he knew he was telling the truth.)

For reasons unknown to him, he felt drawn to the boy in front of him. He didn’t care what people thought of him, but he found himself wanting to make Eijun proud of him. He wanted Eijun to be proud he was dating him.

(… Not that he didn’t feel that way already. He had to be, considering he was dating the king. But it still felt nice to hear him say it out loud and know he was… enough for him.)

It flattered him and made him happy to know that Eijun always saw him as an inspiration and a goal.

(Of course, Eijun hadn’t reached his goal yet. He refused to let him catch up that easily.)

“… I’m flattered you think of me that way,” Mei said, flushing. Eijun rolled his eyes again, probably thinking he was being sarcastic or smug. He shook his head and gave him a serious look, making Eijun catch his breath “Out of all the pitchers I’ve watched or played against, you’re the only one I’m interested in. Even though it irritates me at times, you command my attention.”

He couldn’t help but give him a teasing grin. “And maybe someday you’ll catch up to me. But not anytime soon.”

Eijun frowned, almost pouting. “Quit being an ass. You’re ruining the moment.”

Mei snickered, noticing his red cheeks. It felt good knowing he could still make him go red after all this time. Although, he supposed, it was probably more so because of the praise than anything he did.

Still cute, though.

“How’s this for a moment?” He tugged him closer, letting his hand fall from his cheek as he kissed him.

Eijun gasped into the kiss, kissing back enthusiastically after a moment. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of kissing him. He grumbled a protest as Mei pulled away with a breathless, barely audible laugh several moments later.

“Too short,” he muttered, holding onto his uniform and trying to tug him back in. “Again,” he demanded.

To his disappointment, Mei didn’t move an inch. His boyfriend let out another laugh, giving him a teasing smirk. “You must really like kissing me.” When Eijun only gave him a dirty look, his eyes softened. “… Okay,” he agreed. “Again.” He watched as his eyes lit up, feeling happy (but also smug) that only he could see him like that.

Eijun eagerly leaned back in, intent on kissing him longer than Mei kissed him (and maybe make him weak in the knees for once). Mei almost snickered at his eagerness, but he managed to stop himself at the last moment, knowing it would be hypocritical of him (considering he was just as eager to kiss him again).

… But just as their lips were about to touch, someone cleared their throat loudly, causing them to freeze.

They quickly pulled away, looking in the direction the noise came from.

To their relief, the culprit was only Itsuki. And while Eijun still felt a little embarrassed at getting caught like that, it was lessened since he knew Itsuki.

It also helped that Itsuki had his eyes averted politely.

Mei had no qualms about giving him a dirty look (not that he could see it) for interrupting them. “Itsuki~ I trust you have a good reason for interrupting us,” he drawled, causing Eijun and Itsuki to wince at the undertone of anger in his words.

When Itsuki hesitantly looked up, Eijun gave him a cheerful smile. “It’s good to see you, Itsuki! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Itsuki, who had been looking nervous, immediately smiled at him. “It’s good to see you, too, Eijun. I meant to message you about the new series you got me into, but I keep forgetting.”

Eijun’s eyes lit up even more (if possible). “You’re enjoying it? Isn’t the main character adorable? How far have you gotten?”

Mei’s eye twitched as they started talking about whatever series Eijun had gotten into recently, completely ignoring him. Eijun had completely forgotten he was still holding onto him, waving his hands around as he described events or what a certain character did.

“Oi!” Both jumped at the interruption, finally looking at him sheepishly.

(He liked that his boyfriend and Itsuki, his battery partner, got along well. He really did. But not when they proceeded to ignore him. As if he wasn’t even there. Or important.)

“Was there a reason you interrupted us, or did you just come over to waste our time?” he said mockingly, causing both to wince (this time at the noticeable anger in his words).

“I’m sorry, Mei-san. I didn’t want to interrupt you two. I promise I have a good reason.” When Mei only raised his eyebrows, he gave them an apologetic look. “Coach sent me to tell you that we’re leaving.”

Eijun almost groaned at that. There went his alone time with Mei. Why did their time together always seem so short?

Mei blinked, confused. “He sent you? Why couldn’t someone just message me?” Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Eijun pouting, causing him to tighten his grip. Not enough to hurt (no, never hurt) but enough that Eijun could tell he didn’t want to leave him either.

That caused a small smile to form on his face, making him inwardly celebrate that he made him smile.

“We did message you, Mei-san. No one could find you either,” Itsuki said. He felt sympathetic, knowing the two pitchers couldn’t meet up as often as they would want to, which lessened any feelings of irritation or frustration. “By the way, I’m glad you’re not angry anymore,” he said, before looking at Eijun again. “I’m also glad you’re still alive, Eijun.”

Eijun looked over at him, bewildered. “Uh… thank you?”

“Also, while I don’t know Seidou’s schedule, I heard some people looking for you.”

Eijun paled, immediately letting go of him to take out his phone. Mei frowned at the loss of contact, reluctantly letting go of him. He watched as Eijun looked at the time, horrified. “Damn it! Boss is going to kill me!”

Eijun quickly scurried off, but he didn’t even make it a few feet away before stopping in his tracks.

Mei, who reluctantly understood he had to go, was about to complain he didn’t receive a kiss goodbye.

Only to feel surprised as Eijun turned around, running back toward him. Once he was close enough, Eijun threw his arms around him, pulling him into a kiss.

Mei quickly wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. And while the kiss was shorter due to the time constraint, they still managed to make it somewhat passionate.

They pulled away several moments later, Eijun beaming at him even as he breathed heavily. “I guess next time I see you, it’ll be time for the finals.”

Mei almost had to look away, his breath catching in his throat at Eijun’s smile. “You had better not trip before you face us,” he said, giving him a condescending smirk.

Eijun’s answering smile was feral, almost predatory. His golden eyes almost made Mei’s mouth dry up, the intense gaze reminding him of whenever his boyfriend pitched. “Right back at ya.”

Mei scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to? We won’t lose.”

(Some part of him felt insulted his boyfriend thought (even for a second) that they would lose. He would need to remind him that the loss during the fall tournament was just a one-time thing.)

He couldn’t help but point at him. “You’re not allowed to lose before you face us! Got that? Don’t disappoint me.”

To his surprise, Eijun smirked, eyes gleaming mischievously. “I would never think of disappointing the king.” He proceeded to bow mockingly.

Before he could reach out and swat him, Eijun scurried off, laughing at his disgruntled expression. “Get back here, you rude brat!”

Eijun only laughed, but before he left his sight, he raised his cell phone, silently telling him he would text him.

Mei grumbled to himself as he walked over to Itsuki, somewhat appeased by Eijun’s promise to text him.

He would have to show him exactly why he’s the king next time they meet.

But first, both needed to concentrate on their first game.

Or they might trip before even making it to the finals.

… Not that Mei was worried. He had complete faith both of their teams would keep winning and make the finals.

Where they’ll finally have a pitching duel as ace of their respective schools.

ZZZ

Kazuya watched, amused as the rest of the first string kept glancing at Sawamura out of the corner of their eyes.

They were all hanging out in his room, playing video games after dinner (during which he swore someone would cave and question Sawamura, but besides glancing at him multiple times, no one did anything). A few of their teammates looked tense, as if ready to chase if Sawamura tried to escape.

But just as he was starting to think Kuramochi would pounce on their ace, Sawamura cleared his throat loudly, attracting everyone’s attention.

He managed to keep a straight face as everyone immediately looked at their ace.

Time for the show to begin.

Sawamura looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. “I wanted to talk to you guys about my relationship with Mei.” If he didn’t already have everyone’s attention, they definitely would’ve started paying attention now. “I admit, I should’ve told you guys earlier. So I’m sorry.” A determined glint went into his eyes. “But I’m not apologizing about our relationship. I like him, and I’m going to continue to date him whether you guys like it or not.”

A shocked silence greeted his words, with multiple people gaping at their ace (much to Kazuya’s amusement).

“DATING?!” The team yelled, causing Sawamura to wince. Kazuya couldn’t help himself. He started laughing quietly. A few people sounded like they were choking, causing Sawamura to look alarmed (but also vaguely offended. He would probably never admit it out loud, though.)

Sawamura opened and closed his mouth a few times, resembling a goldfish. He looked around him multiple times, as if not understanding the reaction. In the next moment, though, he turned to look at him with his cat eyes, causing him to chuckle. “I thought you would tell them! What’s wrong with you?”

“You actually wanted me to tell them the truth? Isn’t that ironic?” Kazuya teased, smirking.

“Shut up! I just… What did you tell them?”

Kazuya debated not answering for a few moments, but he finally decided to give in, thinking it might be more amusing that way. He shrugged, trying to look innocent. “As close to the truth as possible. That you two are close friends.”

“Liar!”

Kazuya raised his eyebrows, feigning a hurt expression. “I’m telling the truth this time.” When Sawamura still looked suspicious, he gestured to the rest of the team. “Go ahead. Ask them. They’ll tell you what I said.”

Sawamura turned back to look at the rest of the team, biting his lower lip, as if trying to decide what or who to ask.

But then, as if the team were waiting for Sawamura to finish talking to him, they all exploded into action, many of them talking over each other.

Kazuya started laughing quietly at their ace’s bewildered expression. Sawamura tried to ask them to calm down (most likely so he could understand what people were saying), but no one wanted to listen to him.

“What the fuck? How did this even—”

“Why Narumiya of all people? Huh?!”

“Aniki is going to kill us…”

“Is he treating you right? We saw how he grabbed you earlier.”

Kazuya cackled hysterically as everyone shouted, trying to force Sawamura to answer them. Not that their ace could hear anything besides little snippets here and there.

… He was right.

This was much more entertaining than the situation he found himself in earlier.

He leaned back against the side of his bed, content to watch as the team collectively lost their shit with a lost (and now very offended) Sawamura in the middle of the chaos.

He would step in if things got too chaotic or someone went overboard.

But for now, he wanted to enjoy the show while it lasted.

#diamond no ace #daiya no ace #sawamura eijun #narumiya mei #meisawa #sawamei #daiya no a #fanfictions #pikashadows writing

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ober-affen-geil · 5 years

Text

I need to talk about Maria’s feelings. Her anger, specifically. Because she doesn’t get to express it very often, and that frustrates me.

There are so many things forcing her to keep a lid on her feelings; working in a service profession, caring for her mother, being the “fun friend”. Being a single black woman in a heavily white town with a history of racial violence. So Maria doesn’t get to be angry, or frustrated. But what’s interesting to me is that when we do see glimpses of it from her, they are almost all related to Michael. (The exception is her mother and her inexplicable deteriorating condition.) So I want to dig into this a little more.

Maria likes Michael. That’s the first thing. She likes him and she knows she shouldn’t so she’s mad about it. He’s a regular at the Pony, for starters. Having any kind of romantic, sexual, or mix-of-the-two relationship with him is a Bad Idea. And yet. He’s starting to win her over.

They’ve had a good banter going for who-knows-how-long and it’s laid the foundation for a genuinely good friendship between them. Not sleepover worthy (PG, get your mind out of the gutter), but a friendly understanding nonetheless. And Maria has noticed he has a certain...physical charm to him (Ok that one’s rating went up). So after ten years, Maria is starting to weigh how bad it would actually be to pursue a relationship with Michael Guerin.

Her tipping point, for me, happens in 1x07. When she breaks down and Michael comforts her, silently, without hesitation. I’ve talked about this a few times before, but Maria hasn’t seen this part of him. (With the possible exception of when it’s directed at Isobel.) Without asking, he is gentle, supportive, and non-invasive. He simply holds her when she needed it.

Suddenly, Michael Guerin is more than the riffraff you have car sex with and never take home. Suddenly, he has emotional depth. And damn him for that because now she’s actually interested. Now he’s shown her that he’s someone who might be good at a romantic relationship and what the hell is she supposed to do with that.

So she dials up her flirt, but she doesn’t lose her bite at all. Testing the waters, but not without a warning sign. She’s seen a glimpse of something...else. Another side to Michael. But that’s a drop in the bucket compared to the years of evidence she has to the contrary so you better believe there is no way she’s rushing into this.

Until she does. Oops.

1x09 sees Maria drunk, vulnerable, and alone with Michael. Who is also drunk. Which, it turns out, is a pretty great recipe for sex that you weren’t planning on having. When she wakes up in the morning, Maria is pissed at her own slipup.

She might have been angling that way but that was neither the time nor the place she wanted it to happen.She wasn’t really ready to make that leap, she hadn’t done enough scouting yet, and the fact that she jumped the gun makes her angry.

And then she has a conversation with Alex.

Of course. Of course the guy she’s starting to fall for is her best friend’s first love. Of course he is. When has Maria DeLuca ever been allowed anything in this town without strings attached.

I’ve talked about this scene (here) but when Maria talks to Michael in the Crashdown at the beginning of 1x11 it is the most indicative of her frustration over this. So far as she is aware, Michael has just proved himself to be the no-good bed-hopper he looks like from the outside that she thought she had found a different layer to. She is mad at him on Alex’s behalf but she’s also angry with herself for falling for it.

She knew better and she went and did it anyway and he fucking let her knowing what he knew. (She doesn’t have the full picture of course, and I’m not blaming her for that.) He tries to reassure her that it’s been over, that she didn’t do anything wrong (the bastard) but she’s not listening to him at the moment. Because she knows it sure as hell isn’t over for Alex and he takes precedent.

But then Michael does something really low. He shows up for her again. And what is she supposed to do with that? What is she supposed to do with his thigh warm against her cheek, his thumb stroking her hair, and his quiet offer to get her someone else to be comfortable with?

Because the problem (in her own words) is that she’s already comfortable with him. And she shouldn’t be. She doesn’t want to be. She knows that Alex is still deeply tangled up with him and yet here she is, losing herself in Michael Guerin. Who, by the way, doesn’t have the decency to leave her alone like the no-good one-night-stander he should be.

So when he shows up at the Pony at god-knows-what-hour (seriously, at what point in the morning is it???), looking wrung out and desperate and hopeful well jeeze. She’s only human.

And this is the point that I’m mad about, because Maria is just as wrung out, emotionally, as Michael is. She deserves a break and she’s not gonna fucking get one because the last moment we have of her in season 1 is the realization that there’s a reason Michael doesn’t play guitar. And the fact that he can now is something that isn’t right at all, and it’s something she’s going to have to deal with.

But hey. If there wasn’t drama, we wouldn’t have a show. So in the name of entertainment, I’ll get some popcorn and watch the fireworks. Here’s hoping Maria gets a break in season 2.

#roswell new mexico #rnm #my roswell meta #my gifs #maria deluca #michael guerin #miluca #list #a riley special

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

Note

Jack has spasms while he's in the coma. He'll randomly start screaming and flailing around wildly as the machines he's hooked up to start to go haywire. It's Anti's doing, obviously. But it means that even while Jack's comatose he's fighting Anti and not giving in. It's horrible but it provides a bittersweet comfort, knowing that Jack is still staying strong.

Okay. This happened.

JSE Fanfiction - In Time of Need (Part 4: Finding Purchase)

Summary: Chase doesn’t expect any change in Jack’s condition while he watches over him. He receives the shock of his life for his troubles.

Chase’spropped boots slid abruptly from their perch on the railing of the medical bed,falling to the floor with a heavy thud and startling their owner awake.Blinking disorientedly, he struggled to pull himself upright in theuncomfortable plastic chair beside Jack’s bed, self-consciously swiping awaythe thin trail of drool that had snuck down his chin and then peeking at hiscreator. Nothing had changed; he still lay unconscious before him.

“Geez,I’m sorry, Jack. Didn’t mean to fall asleep…Imagine if you’d woken up to that,”he mumbled. “Bet I’d look like a real idiot.”

It shouldn’tbe any surprise to him that he’d dozed off, though. As he rubbed at his achingneck, he made a vague effort at math. How long had it been since he’d visitedhis bed? Three—no, four days? Four and a half? Something like that.

Schneephad insisted on setting up a cot for him in the corner of the lab, but Chasehad only used it once. He preferred to stay as close to Jack as possible and hedidn’t feel like going to the trouble of dragging the cot all the way overhere. Every day, the lab seemed like it got larger and larger. Sooner or later,it was going to roll in on itself and swallow them.

Leaninghis elbows on his knees, Chase studied Jack for several seconds, searching forany movement that might have happened since he’d stopped paying attention. Guiltand despair were already starting to claw at his ribcage, tightening his lungs,making it harder to breathe. He had sworn that he wouldn’t leave, but the factremained that he didn’t want to see Jack like this.

But I don’t get what Iwant. I never do, at least not for long, he mused apathetically. Jack hadn’tmoved a muscle. Of course he hadn’t. Maybe if Chase picked up his hand andplaced it on his chest, he could try very, very hard to convince himself thathe had done it on his own.

Hisown sarcasm was creating a prickly ache in his heart; it wasn’t helping anything.Curling in on himself, he ducked his head, let his eyes close and sighed deeplythrough the exhaustion. It clung to his back like a parasite, heavy andunrelenting.

PMA, Chase. Keep ittogether. PMA. Gotta keep that PM—oh, what does that even mean anymore?

“Jack…”he began softly, not bothering to open his eyes or lift his head. “I’m tryingreally hard here, buddy, I’m trying really, really hard. I—I know you’vegot a plan here. You’ve always got a plan. You made us for a reason. You haven’twoken up for a reason. But did you…did you, uh, ever think about how much itwould hurt us? Hmm? You ever think about that? Because it’s tearing us apart.”Hot, wet pressure stung behind his eyelids and he pressed his lips tightlytogether, trying to find the right words.

“Jackieboyand the doc fought, Jack. They fought. You know how tight those two are;you know they never fight, but they did—over you, over me, all of this. NowJackie’s gone and I don’t even know if they made up before he left. Schneep’s cominghome from work every day with his eyes all red and he tries to hide it. He’llprobably do it again today. Didn’t even touch his coffee before he left. Andyou…just lie there and don’t do a thing about it.”

Hehadn’t held out much hope for a protest at that, but what little hope he haddidn’t last long. Jack lived up to his words, not batting an eye, and Chasehuffed shakily, sitting further up in his chair and raising his voice.

“Jack?Listen to me, if you can. I…I’m askin’ you to come back. Okay? I’m askingyou to come back to us. We need you here, man, and I don’t know what we’regonna do if you don’t—” If you don’t make it. “I just w-want you back.Please. You gotta come back, Dad, please—”

Hehad no time to notice the slipup as the nearby monitors suddenly blared tolife, alarms trilling and twittering in a ghastly chorus. Throwing himself outof his chair, Chase gripped the edges of the nearest screen, watching thenumbers fly up and down too fast for him to process. Static buzzed, the screensparked, and twin blips of green flashed over the EKG line, scrambling it.

“Jack?Jack?!” the vlogger cried out, gasping as he whirled away from the screen tosee his creator throwing an arm out toward him. Even as he lunged out of reach,Jack lashed out again, clawing desperately at the air before slamming his handsagainst the bed railing and howling.

“O-o-o-o-out!”

Legsscrambling for purchase against the mattress and tangling the blankets, Jack archedhis back and screamed again, a garbled, staticky screech of wordless agony thatset all of Chase’s hair on end.

“Jack,stop it, stop it!” he wept in horror, pressing his hands against hismouth as his creator thrashed and kicked and tossed his head, veins in his neckand arms swelling as his heart seized. Wild, bloodshot blue eyes flew open,streaming tears, and Chase was sure his heart stopped.

“Jack?!”

Therewas one last wretched wheeze, a convulsive shudder, and then his creator collapsedback against the mattress, gone. The alarms ceased.

Gaping,Chase stood where he was for a solid thirty seconds and quaked in uncertainterror. “Jack?” he whispered hoarsely, creeping closer inch by inch, turninghuge eyes to the monitors. They beeped, steady and disturbingly quiet, as ifnone of what Chase had just witnessed had happened.

“J—”Chase choked on a sob. “Jack…p-please…please, no…”

Noresponse. Jack lay splayed out in the tangled, sweat-soaked sheets, expressionless,eyes closed—utterly dead to the world. When Chase faintly brushed against his wrist,there was no reaction but a slow, shallow pulse.

Hisyoung Ego tried to find air but couldn’t, swaying, stumbling and collapsing backinto the chair when his legs wouldn’t hold him anymore.

#youtube #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #youtube fanfiction #chase brody #wake up #save jacksepticeye #whump #angst #feels for days #i'm loving these ideas you guys come up with #seriously #such amazing angst #answered ask #Anonymous

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scythe-swinging · 6 years

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Deidara's a Matchmaker!? Pt.3/9

Yay! Pt. 3!!! Part 4 will likely be delayed because I'm going to hawaii for a vacation from like wednesday until uhh tuesday or somthing???

[ICANTDOAREADMOREUNTILINONMYTABLETREEEE]

Deidara waited until the next morning, when he knew that Hidan would be sleeping in – he always slept in, hungover or not – to go find Tobi. It was rare that he tried to seek out the orange masked ninja but it wasn’t that hard to find him. After all, Tobi was just being a ‘good boy’ coloring in the living room with Zetsu. When he wasn’t bothering someone he was almost always with the plant thing. Really, it was easier to find Tobi than it was to avoid him-

“Tobi, un.” Deidara started, not really sure how to get convince Tobi to come with him without electing suspicion from Zetsu. The less people who knew about his meddling, the lower the chance of Hidan or Sasori finding out and he had to make sure he wouldn’t be caught if he wanted this to work.

“Senpai!” Tobi happily called back, starting to sit up despite Deidara having not told him to. Turns out getting Tobi to follow him would be easy. He wasn’t sure why he had thought differently- now he just had to figure out some sort of excuse for even talking to Tobi when he always did his best to avoid him-

“Pein has something he needs us to do-“ He lied, figuring that pretending their leader was the reason for their interaction would sate Zetsu’s curiosity. Judging by the fact that he looked back down at his book Deidara would say he was in the clear. Good. If this got ruined because of a small slip up he would be upset, he couldn’t risk anything ruining this. If he didn’t push those to idiots together who would?

“Okies!” Tobi happily grabbed his coloring things, putting them up like the good boy he always claimed to be, before he grabbed Deidara’s arm and practically dragged him out of the living room.

“Tobi-! Let go, un! You don’t even know where we’re going!” He pulled his arm out of Tobi’s grasp as he yelled. This was going to be a pain and a half, he could already tell. Why had he chosen Tobi of all peple to help?

“We’re going on a mission! Right Senpai???” Tobi excitedly asked, not at all deterred by the other’s anger. It was a normal thing and, if he was being honest with himself or anyone else, it was one of the desired effects from his antics.

“Yes, but it’s top secret mission and you can’t let anyone know you’re on it, okay? Not even anyone here. If they ask what you’re doing tell them a lie.”

“But Senpai- lying is bad-!”

Right, he was asking Tobi because he was an idiot and wouldn’t question what he said. “This mission is /very/ important Tobi. You won’t be…” He couldn’t believe he was actually going to say this, to humor this child’s antics. He sighed deeply before continuing. “You won’t be a bad boy for lying-“

Tobi gasped, quickly getting too close to his senpai. “Tobi will still be a good boy!?”

“Yes- if Tobi moves back then he’ll still be a good boy-“

Tobi did as asked, though if it was because he was asked or because he was now jumping around happily Deidara wasn’t sure. “YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYTOBI IS A GOOD BOY AND SENPAI SAID SO!!!!!!”

“TOBI SHUT UP!”

“Sowwie senpai-“

“It’s fine just don’t do it again, yeah?”

Tobi nodded. “Yeah!” He paused briefly before continuing in a whisper. “What’s the secret mission senpai?”

“It’s a mission so secret I can’t even tell you what it’s for- only what I need you to do next.”

“That sound’s fun! Like playing spies!”

“Calm down, yeah? Remember, no one can know we’re on this mission.”

“Okies! Tobi understands!”

“Good.” Deidara leaned towards Tobi and whispered the plan into his ear, doing his best to explain things in a way that he would understand.

“Okies! Tobi will win the mission!”

“Whatever- just go-“ Dei urged, wanting Tobi to just leave. Hopefully he wouldn’t screw this up-

Tobi nodded and quickly hurried off.

It didn’t take long for Tobi to find Sasori as the redhead was in the kitchen, a place he had just checked on a whim - a whim called he was planning on checking literally every single room until he found him but a whim nonetheless.

“Sasori-san!” He called out excitedly, glad that he had found his ‘target’ so quickly. “Sasori-san!! Tobi has questions!!”

The redhead regarded the childish man silently, wondering if there was a way he could get out of answering Tobi’s – more than likely stupid – questions.

“Tobi won’t take long! He promises!” The masked nin claimed when he didn’t immediately get a response.

Deciding it would probably be best just to humor him, Sasori nodded slightly. “If it gets you to leave quicker then I’ll answer.”

“Okies! Once Tobi get’s his answers he will leave to tell se- to go play tag-!”

Sasori stared silently at Tobi, not missing the slipup but not commenting on it either. This was Tobi after all, he knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer if he bothered to question it.

Tobi nodded to himself, pleased that his slip up had gone unnoticed before he started to ask questions. All he had to do was find out how Sasori felt about Hidan without asking that specific question – that would blow the secret part of the mission! – this should be easy.

“What is Hidan-san’s favorite color???” That’s something Sasori would know if he cared about him-!!

“Green-“ Sasori answered after a pause. He was able to answer the question without needing much thought but he had been expecting stupid questions not questions about Hidan-

“What does he like???”

Seriously- why was Tobi of all people asking things about Hidan of all people?? “Are all of your questions about him?”

“Yes-“

“Why don’t you ask him rather than waste my time?”

“Because Hidan-san can’t know!! It’s a secret-“

“What is?”

Quick- think of something-! “That’s another secret-!” Good job- he’ll never know now-

Sasori sighed ever so lightly, giving up with finding out via asking Tobi. Perhaps his line of questioning would provide a better answer.

“Ribs and that god of his.”

Tobi nodded. “This is very helpful! What would, uh, someone- do to make him happy!?”

“Pay attention to him, don’t belittle his god, give him ribs-“ Sasori listed off a few things that were quite frankly common sense to most of them, in his view at least considering Tobi didn’t seem to know that.

“And Sasori-san is sure???”

“It’s obvious.”

Tobi nodded, once, as if confirming something with himself before abruptly hugging Sasori. Luckily for him he moved back just as quickly – avoiding any poison the redhead may have used to get him off.

“Thankies!! This is all Tobi needs!” He called out as he left, rushing back to Deidara to report his findings.

Sasori watched the doorway the other left through in contemplative – and slight confused – silence until the object of their conversation walked in.

Hidan was looking towards where Tobi had run off – in the opposite direction the moment he had seen him – only looking at the room once he was all the way in.

“Hey-“ He started when he realized that Sasori was in the room. “What the hell was that about-?” He was sure it was something stupid but with Tobi one could never be too careful. He still remembered that time Tobi had hidden Deidara’s clay in the /wall/ of all places until the blonde exploded it. Man- Kakuzu was pissed for weeks after that. And if you think an angry Kakuzu was bad imagine sharing a room with the guy-

“I’m…not sure. He was asking me about you.”

“Wait really? Why the fuck was he doing that? I swear to Jashin if he fucking pulls some stupid stunt I’ll kill him-“

“He wanted to know how to make you happy.”

Hidan blinked in shock, stopping midsentence. “Huh-“

“And what things you liked.”

“He- what- that doesn’t make any fucking sense- why is he asking that? That’s the kind of shit you ask about someone you fucking like or some shit-“

“It is.”

“Yeah, so why is he- oh, fuck no- I swear to Jashin if he- I’ll fucking kill him-“

“It’s only a possibility, Hidan.”

“It shouldn’t even be a fucking choice-! Tobi is- I’m- just no. I’m gonna go fucking talk some sense into him right now-“ And with that, he turned out of the room, hunger forgotten.

Part 1

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End

#hidasaso #deidara's a matchmaker #pt 3 #vee writes #enjoy tobi being tobi #deidara is a matchmaker

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lunenari · 7 years

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Death's Protege

Kouki is the next in line to become Death. When his brother is unable to fulfill the tasks for one of his shifts, the hardship falls upon him. On that day, he meets six-year-old Akashi Seijuro, who is nowhere as innocent as he appears to be.

Tags: AU, !Reaper! Kouki, Chibis, Both Akashis

Read on Ao3 instead

“Hino Isao.” He glanced down. “Last seen in emergency room.”

The cause informed him that departure wasn’t too far off.

“Supposed to go in an hour.”

Furihata Kouki sighed, tucking the clipboard at his side. This was the least of duties he wished to attend on his day off. Or any day, for that matter. Witnessing people clinging to the final stage of life, and then succumbing to cessation, wasn’t his idea of a grand ol’ time. He couldn’t imagine it was for the one soon to perish, either.

Ironically, he was surrounded by death day in and day out. If he was being honest, was death itself, but he was around the already collected souls. He didn’t need to watch the light fade from peoples’ eyes as their soul began to depart from their body. Nor did he want to see their final gasp, hear their last heartbeat. He was in training for it, yes, and was the next of kin to take over the role. But he still had time until his brother stepped down. How much he didn’t know, and he surely wasn’t counting down the moments to that faithful era.

Yet today, said brother was unable to complete his usual tasks, and he was in place. Kouki had already been to multiple locations that his brother was assigned to. He hoped this would be the final stop for the day.

Couldn’t mortals wait until he had returned to his normal post to pass on? No, of course not. Death had no set time. Only he knew when it would occur, and even then, it had a cruel habit of surprising him.

Heaving a breath, he continued his rounds.

“Azuma Mitsue.” He glanced at the clipboard. “Deceased? Huh? How is that possible?”

Sure, there were numerous assistants assigned to other locations to lessen the burden, but this was his designated area.

“Unless there was another mix up.”

Kouki cringed. That occurred very rarely, and when it did, there were severe consequences. The one who was to gather the soul, was to be stationed moments before it would be separating from the body. Not after. It was a bit more difficult to handle a wandering soul than it was to collect it right then and there.

Distracted, he didn’t notice the nurse heading straight toward him. Not as though it was much of an issue, since she wouldn’t acknowledge his presence. They passed through each other with ease, as though there had never been anything before the other. But then she suddenly paused to shudder, quickly rubbing her arms as goosebumps emerged from the unknown icy waft.

Ah, right. Mortals could sense the chill of death when they were unfortunate to bump into it. However, it was for a brief moment, and then everything returned to the way it had been.

Which restored his previous dilemma. What was he supposed to do now? The room number was still next to the name, but what would happen if they weren’t there? Kouki didn’t know how to patch up any slipups. This wasn’t a section of the training he had received, thus far.

A sudden tug on his pant leg caused him to freeze.

“Excuse me. Can you please bring me more juice?”

Kouki peered down to see a fluffy mane of red. A child of about five or so, was staring up at him with wide, crimson eyes. He was dressed in a hospital gown with a little lion printed across it, and in his hand, was an empty juice carton.

How adorable he wa…wait a second. This kid could see him?

“Mister?”

“You can see me?”

The kid raised his eyebrows. “Well, yeah, how could I not? You’re kinda big to miss.”

Kouki flipped through the papers on the clipboard, searching for the little tyke’s photo. This child was far too young to be on the list, so it had to either be another mistake (which he still needed to solve the other one, and fast) or someone overlooked that children were indeed able to notice them.

Finally, to his dismay, he found it.

Akashi Seijuro, age six. The date and time, however, was to be determined. He had been in the hospital since last month, diagnosed with a severe illness. One whose name Kouki was having a difficult time pronouncing, and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

This, this was exactly what he loathed about this job.

“Hey, Mister.”

Kouki blinked. Did his attire resemble one of the staff? He was one of death, but he surely didn’t walk around in a cloak and a terrifying scythe lugged over his shoulder. A casual black attire with black gloves to match. The ones that would carefully cart the soul when the needed time came.

Weren’t the staff usually in white?

“Ah, I’m sorry. You said you needed some juice?”

Seijuro nodded. “Yeah! I was trying to get the lady, but I’m too small to reach the button that gets her.”

“Your mother isn’t there to get it?”

The child’s gaze lowered. “My mom died last year.”

Glancing at the clipboard, Kouki wanted to bang his head. How did that one important fact soar by him? It was horrible enough the kid was clueless that his bleak future was inevitable, and now he had just made it worse by being dense about fragile questions.

“S-sorry! I didn’t know.” Kouki straightened. “What about your dad?”

Seijuro frowned. “He said he had to go to work. But my aunt is here. She fell asleep, though, and I don’t wanna wake her up.”

No mother, father absent, incurable illness. This child had had a depressing short life so far.

“So, can you please get me some juice?”

Kouki knew for certain that was impossible, but maybe he could direct him toward someone who could.

“Yeah.” Kouki looked around and spotted someone who he assumed was part of the staff. “Let’s go this way.”

Guiding him toward the staff member, Kouki nudged the child to stand before them. Instantly, she took notice, and knelt down to his level.

“Sei-chan,” she said softly, “What are you doing out of your room?”

He held up his empty carton.

“I couldn’t reach the button.” Seijuro pointed next to him. “This guy said he’d get it for me.”

The staff member blinked at the empty space.

“Who said they would, Sei-chan?”

“This guy.” His gaze met Kouki’s. “Can’t you see him?”

Her response was to giggle. “What an imagination you have!” She reached for his hand. “Let’s go back to your room, and I’ll get you more juice.”

“But.”

Seijuro pouted as he was whisked down the hall. He peered behind at where Kouki was still standing, seemingly confused about the whole ordeal. It couldn’t be helped, though. Besides, the kid was in good hands, was he not?

…For now, at least.

Kouki discarded the ghastly forthcoming. That wasn’t something he wanted to think about at the given moment. Instead, he needed to focus on the other mishap, to somehow try to correct it. He couldn’t return home without the list being completed, and this certainly was going to prevent that from happening. Especially if said person’s soul had already been collected, unbeknownst to his knowledge.

It wasn’t that it was necessarily terrible that might have occurred, but more so the order would be botched. Everything had to follow according to plan, each associate had their own mission. No one was to disrupt any others’.

But it looked like that was exactly what was happening to him.

“I guess I’ll head toward the room. If he’s not there, well…”

Kouki sighed. Then he would have no choice but to return and uncover what had occurred. His first day in doing a job that someday he would inherit, and he was already screwing it up. He couldn’t imagine what his brother’s reaction would be.

Disappointed, most likely.

Then again, how was it his fault? He had been doing exactly what he had been assigned to! It wasn’t his fault someone got mixed up and collected a soul that was on his list. So, why would he be the one to be lectured?

Troubles discarded, he headed down the hall and searched for the dreaded room number.

“Are you looking for someone?”

He nearly leapt out of his skin at the sudden voice. Seijuro was leaning against the wall, sipping from a straw of his now new juice box.

Only the kid was now staring at him with mismatched eyes. One red, as he saw before, and the other a brilliant gold.

“Weren’t your eyes both red?”

Seijuro shrugged. “They change every now and then.” Apparently so did the way this kid talked. “I asked you a question, though. Are you looking for someone?”

And, boy, did he become a bit arrogant.

“Er, I’m looking for Azuma Mitsue.”

“You mean that crazy guy who walks up and down the hallway talking to himself?”

Kouki’s expression brightened.

“You’ve seen him?”

“A few times. He sometimes came into my room, and they made him go away. He was really weird.”

His hope flourished. Maybe he would be saved, after all.

“Did you see him at all today?”

Seijuro shook his head. “No, but you could ask the nurse at the desk. She might know where he is. It’s her job, anyway.”

What a shift in personality compared to when he first met the kid. It was as though he had somehow become another person, the distinctive eyes to confirm that presumption.

However, it was extremely impractical that he could ask for assistance. He would have to fulfill the task himself, and only by himself. Kouki was hoping it was going to have the end result he was yearning for.

“Thanks. I’ll… do that.”

Not really.

Despite the kid’s suggestion, Kouki resumed his previous route. If the hounded man wasn’t in the room, there was still one other location he could check. One he was pleading that he wouldn’t have to visit.

“You’re going the wrong way.” Seijuro was once more by his side. “The desk is over there.”

Ignoring Seijuro’s disapproval, which resulted in a huff, Kouki continued until he reached his destination. Standing outside the room, he closed his eyes, counted to three, and heaved a shaky breath before stepping into the room.

He could hear the pitter patter of socked feet, and knew Seijuro was behind him. It mattered not, nor did he pay it much attention. He had something more concerning to take care of.

So with that intention in mind, Kouki headed toward the bed, pulling back the curtains.

To uncover vacant bedspread.

“Noooo!” At the moment, it was impossible not to shout. Then again, who could hear him, anyway? “Why??”

Seijuro instantly rushed toward him.

“Mister.” He sounded concerned, nothing like how he was seconds ago. “Did you get hurt? Are you okay?”

Kouki sat on the floor, jaw clenched in frustration. How was he going to deal with the next step? That was the last place he wished to venture to. Why did it have to be there? And how come it had to be on his first day? Who hated him so much back at home?

He could feel a soft waft against his face. Unveiling his gaze, he was met with twin crimson.

“Hey, Mister.”

Kouki snapped from his daze, eyes focusing on the worried kid.

“I’m okay,” he finally said, “I tripped. That’s all.”

Seijuro nodded. “I fell this morning. It was really hard for me to get up. I had to get help.”

Of course he did. After all, he was…

“I hope you weren’t hurt.”

He shook his head. “No, I was fine. I got hurt the other day when I hit my toe. That really hurt.”

Kouki frowned. “You should be in bed right now, then.”

“That was the other day!” He pouted. “I don’t wanna go back. It’s so boring there. No one will play with me.”

Something wrapped around his heart like a vice. If it still pulsed with life, that was. Kouki could see how lonely the kid was, and it only made matters worse at how clueless he was about how his demise was closing in on him.

Seriously, he was standing right in front of death itself.

“Can I stay with you? You seem busy, so I won’t ask you to play. But can I go where you are?”

At another time, he would have said yes. Anything to keep the little tyke happy when he was already miserable enough. But where he was heading was no place for a kid to be. Hell, it wasn’t even a place he wanted to be.

Which, ironically, Seijuro would probably end up soon.

A loud, shaky cough interrupted his musings. Seijuro was leaning over, hand clutching his stomach. Behavior that showed Kouki how much time he truly had left. And a glance at the list to see he had moved up, confirmed that.

Repressing his emotions, Kouki rested a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease his coughing fit.

“I think you need to lay down.”

Instead of answering, Seijuro stared at him, crimson eyes wide.

“You’re really cold.”

Kouki instantly recoiled. How could that have slipped his mind?

“You need a warm blanket,” the kid oddly continued, “I know where they are.”

Bewildered by the response, Kouki watched as he slowly walked toward the closet and pulled it open. Stepping into it, he disappeared for a few moments. The sounds of objects being shuffled around echoed within the small space, some crashing to the floor. When he emerged, he was dragging a blanket that was twice the size of him.

“Here.” Seijuro lifted it as best as he could from the floor to cover Kouki’s shoulders. “This will keep you warm.”

Kouki smiled faintly, well aware that death could never be warmed. Still, it was a kind gesture, and if he could feel warmth, he was sure this would be plenty.

“Thank you. That’s much better,” he lied smoothly.

Seijuro nodded. “Welcome… um… what’s your name, Mister?”

He could at least grant him that.

“Furihata. Furihata Kouki.”

The child held out his hand in proper greeting.

“I’m Seijuro.” He paused. “My last name, Akashi, is really known. Cause my dad owns a lot of places.”

Kouki shook the small hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Akashi-san.”

“Why are you looking for that guy?” Right to the point. Introductions, and then curious questions. “Are you friends?”

Friends, as in he was the keeper of his soul. Sure, why not.

“Kind of. I just really need to find him.”

“How come?”

Kouki swallowed. “W-well. He has to give me something.”

“Like a present?”

That was putting it lightly.

“Yeah, like a present.”

“Oh.” Seijuro seemed disappointed. “I can help you find him. He might be—”

Another violent cough ripped through him.

“I really would like it more if you went to lay down, Akashi-san.” Kouki’s hand was once more on his shoulder. “You need to.”

Seijuro appeared anything but thrilled at the advice. The fatigue in his crimson depths disclosed another story.

“I’ll go…” he started reluctantly, “if you promise me something, Furihata-san.”

He hadn’t been expecting that.

“Promise you something?”

“Yeah.” Seijuro paused for a needed breath. “That you’ll come back tomorrow and play with me. When you’re not busy.”

Against his better judgement, Kouki knew the wisest choice would be to say no. It was difficult to stare into those large, gloomy eyes, though, and decline such an innocent request.

Far too difficult.

“All right.” Kouki had barely resisted. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Seijuro wasn’t convinced.

“Promise.” He raised his pinkie. “Swear with your pinkie.”

Kouki laughed softly. “I promise.”

Another cough.

“Now, you keep your end of the promise, and let’s go back to your room.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, not with the child’s frail health at risk. Gently easing him from the ground, Kouki carried the offered blanket and guided him back through the hall, toward the middle where he knew Seijuro was staying.

Which, of course, resulted in surprise.

“How’d you know where my room was?”

Kouki’s smile was tight. “Lucky guess.”

No, he knew exactly how.

Seijuro climbed into his bed, flopping down onto a pillow that was far too big for someone of his size.

“You better come back tomorrow, or else.”

And once more he was graced with a mismatched stare. However, with that ruffled, fluffed out head of hair, his threat wasn’t very intimidating, if it was any. Although Kouki wasn’t sure how he was going to proceed with it, he knew he had to keep his promise. Even though he was going to endure a lot to uphold it.

“I will. Take a good nap now. It’ll make you feel better.”

The lie singed his tongue. Kouki knew sleep wouldn’t mend anything, but what else was there to say? He was a horrible liar, never saw anything good from it, and each time he was forced to do so, it disgusted him.

Wasn’t he a horrible person already?

Seijuro mumbled sleepily, snuggling into the pillow, but his gaze remained on Kouki. One last reminder, and then he had finally fallen into the throes of slumber, leaving Kouki to himself once more.

It was soon quiet without the little voice suggesting at his side. Yet, now he could resume his assignment without any interruptions or need of concern for the small tyke.

Even though he was really hesitant to do so.

With a sigh, Kouki ventured back down the hall and toward the elevator. He waited as the few occupants stepped out and onto the floor, assuring he wasn’t in their path so they didn’t have to deal with the brush from death.

This had to be in the lowest of levels, didn’t it? Made sense… what was that saying? Out of sight, out of mind? At least for the time being.

Arriving on the floor, he entered the silent, extremely silent, area. The faster this was done, the better for him. And if he didn’t discover what he was so desperately searching for, then he could assume the man was still amongst the living. Somewhere, in another room that wasn’t filed correctly.

Hah, really. What were the odds of that? Probably zero to none.

Everything had to be in alphabetical order, did it not? It would be the easiest for the hospital staff to locate when it was time to remove the corpse.

Locating the last name, he closed his eyes and tugged on the handle, indeed recovering his missing man. But what he didn’t expect, was the note attached to it.

Grabbed this one for ya.

Kouki rolled his eyes at the familiar handwriting, somewhat relieved, yet annoyed he had wasted time for nothing. Not to mention, it had thrown his own list off, and never switched the location.He placed a check mark next to the name, and the clipboard vanished in a puff of smoke.

Finally, he could return home.

Closing his eyes, he summoned the remains of his energy, puzzled he had any after everything he had endured, and then disappeared from the morgue without a trace.

Only to reappear a few seconds after.

“I forgot the one an hour from now!”

“Where are you going?”

Kouki froze at the sound of his brother’s voice. Oh, hell. He hadn’t exactly informed him of his plans for the day, nor was he sure how he was about to. It had been his intention to venture through the mortal realm without anyone having knowledge.

“I don’t need you to cover for me anymore. I appreciate what you did yesterday. It was more than enough.”

“I know that, but there’s…”

How was he going to explain this? Was going to even begin to?

“Okay, look, don’t get mad. There’s this little kid in one of the hospitals.” Kouki flinched at the rigid stare. “…A-And I promised I’d come back and play with him.”

That stare shifted into bewilderment.

“He can see you?”

Oddly, he had the same reaction when the kid first tugged on his pant leg.

“He’s going. Not yet, but soon.” Kouki gestured to the clipboard in his brother’s hands. “Akashi Seijuro. He’s on the fourth page, but last time I checked, he was closer to the middle of the third.”

The older Furihata flipped through the pages, quickly locating the name, and then his gaze was back on Kouki.

“A-ah, please don’t look at me like that. I know we shouldn’t, but he’s so lonely, and he has no one to play with him. He’s too young to have to deal with that.”

Despite the role he possessed, Kouki knew his brother was a kind being. There had to be some leniency within him about the whole ordeal. Even if it was forbidden for them to mingle with the living, especially ones whose souls they were to gather one day.

“All right.” It was a breath of fresh air to hear that word, no matter how skeptical it sounded. “But this will be the only time. He may be going soon, but he’s still amongst the living. We can’t be communicating with them like this.”

Kouki was sure he could manage at least that commitment.

Maybe.

Now within the quiet hallway, he was searching for Seijuro’s room. Last he knew, it wasn’t too far from where he stood. Unless they somehow moved him elsewhere. Their list was accurate, though, and if any change had occurred, it would have corrected itself without so much of an issue.

But wait. What if others were present within the area? He couldn’t very well walk in and surprise them. No other mortal would see him, yes, but Seijuro could, and the staff didn’t need to think the ill kid was losing his mind.

Then again, he was six. He could have as many imaginative friends as he desired, and no one would bat an eyelash. At least, that was what Kouki was expecting the outcome to be.

“Seijuro.” His steps came to a halt at the sudden voice. “The nurses said you were wandering the hallways last night. Again.”

The coolness of the man’s tone caused Kouki to shiver.

“I can’t help it, Father. I was bored. This whole place is boring.”

An annoyed, lengthy sigh. “That cannot be helped. You need to stay here. There is no other choice. We have changed hospitals for you twice now, and I am not doing it for a third time.”

“There’s nothing to do.” This kid, this six-year-old, had absolutely no issue quarreling with his father. “Not that there was anything to do at home, but at least I wasn’t caged.”

“Cease this attitude at once, Seijuro. Where has this come from?”

Kouki inched a few paces to the side. Was he wrong to eavesdrop? That hadn’t been his purpose in the first place. He had arrived to uphold his word, and had stumbled upon a father-son disagreement. Terrible timing or not. He was there now, and he had no intention in returning home until he fulfilled his promise.

From what he could fathom, Seijuro’s father didn’t appear to be anything close to a warmhearted parent. The obvious should have been when Seijuro informed him that his father had abandoned him for business matters. At that time, Kouki thought it was something that was necessary, to support the family, to assure Seijuro was receiving the greatest of care. But after listening for a few moments on how their relationship truly was, he was beginning to think otherwise.

Shouldn’t his son be his prime obligation over everything else?

The elder Akashi then took his leave, granting Kouki a direct view of the parental influence in Seijuro’s life. Rigid, anchored features. There wasn’t the ghost of a smile, if one ever existed on him. Perhaps he was stressed out about his son’s condition, and that was the reason for his behavior. Kouki knew it wasn’t his position to speak, to judge someone he had never met personally, but the man really didn’t seem to be attentive toward his son’s needs.

Not if he was going to argue with him instead of granting him his spare time for something more enjoyable.

Kouki waited for his full exit before heading into the room. He paused to poke his head through the doorway, assuring no one else was around; Seijuro’s gaze was instantly on him.

“You actually came back.”

He peered into those mismatched eyes, once more noticing the shift in the kid’s personality. This was far too strange, yet maybe it was a sign of his severe illness. Either way, Kouki was there for one reason, and that was to come through on his promise.

“Ah, yeah. I said I would be, right?”

A light smile twitched onto Seijuro’s lips.

“I really didn’t think you would.” Kouki could hear the relief in his tone. “Well, since you are, we can play something.”

Kouki pulled up a chair beside his bed. “What do you want to play?”

“Have you ever played Shogi?”

He watched as Seijuro fished a board almost out of nowhere.

“Um… yeah, I have.”

The kid stared at him. “You are a terrible liar.”

Okay, so he hadn’t exactly played it, but he did hear of it and had seen others playing it. So, that counted, didn’t it?

“It’s all right. I will teach you. It’s not hard.”

Sure, not difficult for a six-year-old who apparently didn’t act anything like one. With how he presented himself, Kouki was certain Seijuro didn’t face any challenges.

Not unless he counted…

“Pay attention.” Seijuro’s voice snapped him back to reality. “See this piece here?”

Bit by bit, Seijuro explained the game to him. Or, tried to, as Kouki found it a tad confusing. Eventually, he was able to grasp enough to play one round, where Seijuro easily crushed him. The kid was far too confident for what a six-year-old should have been, but it was probably all he had right now. Everything else had abandoned and disappointed him, so why couldn’t he have at least that? Even if he was a bit too cocky.

It had been an hour after Kouki arrived, when one of the nurses came to collect him. Probably for more testing, more scans, which Seijuro was anything but pleased over.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” he stopped the nurse to turn behind.

Kouki didn’t miss the strange glance she was giving the kid that was apparently talking to himself.

“I’ll try,” he replied.

Though he already knew he was forbidden to.

He still did.

“You’re back.”

Despite the consequences he knew he would undergo after.

“Yeah. I am.”

“I’m so happy you came back, Furihata-san.” Those eyes were once more a gentle crimson hue. “Today we can play with this.”

Each day, they played something different, though Seijuro would somehow always sneak a round of Shogi in during the last few moments. He seemed to favor that the most. Aside from the stuffed replica of his horse back home he had told Kouki about and expressed how much he missed it.

Regardless of his brother’s warning, their adventures continued for a little over two weeks. He knew this was taboo, but he wanted to give Seijuro some happiness in his short life. Something he was lacking for probably quite a while, if he ever had any in the first place.

All in all, it brought Kouki a sense of peace. Peace he was going to cradle until he would meet the day where the boy’s soul would be harvested. He knew he was dealing with the inevitable, but if that day could be prolonged by granting Seijuro happiness and somehow miraculously improving his health, then he was willing to do so.

However, it wasn’t much later when fate decided she had delayed her journey long enough.

Kouki had been wandering through the hospital at his expected time, when he noticed one of the doctors speaking to Seijuro’s father and what he assumed were other family members. Startled by the words he was unfortunate to snag, he entered the room to encounter a pale, much paler than usual, child huddled in tons of blankets.

“I…I don’t think I can play today, Kouki.” He had gotten into the habit of calling him by his first name, which Kouki didn’t mind. Although, that only seemed to occur when his eyes were two different colors. “I feel really weak.”

Kouki smiled wistfully. “We don’t have to play today. We can just sit here.”

He pouted. “But I really want to.”

Gravely ill or not, Seijuro still had it in him to whine.

“You should sleep.” Kouki patted the fluffy head. “It’ll be good for you.”

He fought tooth and nail to stay awake, but his frail circumstances had other plans for him. Seijuro began to drift off, in his arms the stuffed, white horse, held tightly to his chest. Kouki watched with a frown, pulling the blankets closer to him, and then slowly stood from his chair to take leave and not disturb Seijuro’s much needed rest.

When something reached out to stop him.

He peered down to see Seijuro still asleep, but the grip he had on the corner of his suit told another story. Kouki smiled softly, flopping back down into the chair, and squeezing the small hand in return. Craning his neck, he peered out into the hallway to notice Seijuro’s father was now absent.

Kouki tried not to scoff. He wouldn’t judge, he couldn’t judge.

But if his father wasn’t going to, then he would be the one to offer Seijuro comfort in his final days.

A clipboard dropped into his lap.

“Huh?” Kouki peered up. “Do you have something to do today?”

His brother gestured toward it. “Look who’s on top. I figured this was one you wanted to do.”

As he should have predicted, Seijuro was the first name on the list. So that was what had been developing the past few days when he didn’t see him. Kouki had gone to his room, and the kid hadn’t been there. He had returned the following day with the same results. They must have relocated him since his end was nearing.

Well… he knew it wasn’t long from the last time he saw him. It still royally blew to know it was here, though.

“I-I guess I better hurry and go get it.”

His brother nodded. “Since you’re going there, you can take care of the others who should be ready this evening.”

“Ah, right. I’ll be in their spots after I get the Akashi one.” Kouki cringe internally at those words. “See ya later.”

It was odd not heading toward Seijuro’s original room, the one he had visited on multiple occasions within the past two weeks. According to the list, he had been moved to another wing of the hospital, much further than his previous location had been, and about four floors above.

Almost at his destination, the list quickly switched. Now he was in the ICU. Ah, damnit! it was changing way too fast for him to keep up with! He could easily…

Kouki shook his head. No, even if it was an emergency, he wouldn’t be allowed to do that on Earth.

He reached the white doors, peering down at the list to notice something he had been dreading since the abrupt swap. It was already marked as deceased. Taking a brief moment to bow his head in respect, Kouki then hurried through the doors, searching for the body. But they were already wheeling the sheet covered lump out.

If that were the case, then where was the…

“Furihata-san!”

Oh, good. There he was. That was less of a hassle than what he had been anticipating. A wandering soul would have been a bit troublesome to obtain. Even if it had taken shape, he could still guide Seijuro to the world beyond.

“You came back, Kouki. I haven’t seen you for a few days.”

…Wait a second…

Why did it sound like there were…

Kouki swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to diminish the nauseating dread heightening in his gut. Reversing his steps, he was greeted by one Seijuro with mismatched eyes, and another with the soft crimson. The same sets he had encountered each time he had visited to play with the child, the same he thought was a bizarre part of the kid’s severe illness.

But this…this… he…

“Waaaa!” He stumbled backwards. “There’s two of you! How?! Why?!”

The unicolor Seijuro frowned. “Why are you scared, Furihata-san? It’s okay. This is my brother. He’s another side of me.”

“…Another… another…” Kouki babbled, words refusing to fashion correctly, “Y-you…you…”

The heterochromatic one snorted. “I believe you have it wrong. You are the other side of me.”

“No! You are! You were inside my head!”

Frantically flipping through his papers, Kouki searched for something, anything that would explain what he was witnessing. In what section of the handbook did it say that a soul could evolve into two physical forms? Of a soul splitting because of a second personality? Hell, for that matter, where was it anywhere that one could shape into the deceased individual on Earth? That wasn’t supposed to happen until after they crossed over.

How come he had never been told any of this? Why did this have to…ha…ha…

Kouki’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands reaching to clutch at the nearest object that would save him from toppling over.

“Furihata-san!”

One of the Seijuros scrambled to try to steady him, grabbing onto his side, and evoking a reaction no one would have foreseen. Not even Kouki himself.

A dark, feathery extension protruded from the black attire, causing the two Seijuros to scurry away from him. Crimson-eyed-one was first to react, and cautiously inched forward, his soft gaze wide with awe and surprise.

“Oh, wow! You have wings!”

Great. As if he didn’t have enough concerns at the moment.

Mismatched-eyes continued… … Forget it! He was just going to call the mismatched one Seijuro Two and the other Seijuro… to stare at him, gawking at the wing as though it was something beyond reality. Which in a way, he suppose it was.

“Can I touch them?” Seijuro Two asked, fingers already curling.

His “brother” elbowed him. “You can’t touch them! That’s impolite!”

“Stop whining,” he scoffed, “It’s like touching his hand.”

“No it’s not.”

While the two quarreled, Kouki used the moment to compose himself, tucking his wings back into their proper place. Heaving a sigh, he combed his fingers through his hair as he peered down at the clipboard. How was he going to sort this clutterfest out? Although it wasn’t entirely his fault, the two were now in his ward. He was responsible for anything, anything, that happened until they finally crossed over.

… If only he could figure out how to stitch them back into one soul… and undo the transformation for the time being.

“How come you’re here, Furihata-san?” The question yanked him from his dilemma. “Did you come back to play?”

Kouki’s chuckle was strained. “Uh, not exactly.”

“We can’t, anyway.” Seijuro Two pointed down the hall. “Our room and all our toys are gone. Even the game board. They took it away, and we can’t find it.”

Seijuro nodded. “Yeah, and when one of us tried to ask, we were ignored.” His brows creased. “Almost as if they can’t see us.”

The remark nearly choked him. Once again, Kouki was overwhelmed by the sense of dread.

“… T-they can’t.”

Immediately, twin gazes were on him.

Kouki swallowed. “They can’t see you.”

“How do you know that, Kouki?”

He hesitated. Kouki hadn’t planned for this. The soul was supposed to be harvested, and then he would be on to his next assignment. There was no possible way he could have predicted he would be late, the soul would somehow take shape ahead of time, and not only that, but it would split into two beings instead of one.

Nope, not even close.

“B-because you’ve passed on,” he found himself saying, “You’re no longer alive.”

The Akashi expressions were puzzled. Really, though, should that have been a surprise?

Seijuro’s nose wrinkled cutely. “But how come you can see us?”

“Ah, well…”

“Is it not obvious?” Seijuro Two interjected, “He’s obviously dead, too. We have been talking and playing with a dead guy.”

Kouki waved his hand. “H-hey, hold up.”

“That’s weird,” Seijuro returned, “Isn’t he supposed to be like a ghost, then?”

“Who knows? But he is really cold. Remember? Ghosts are cold. I think.”

Kouki frowned. “W-wait a minute…”

“We’re ghosts then, right? But then how come we’re not cold?” Seijuro touched the other one’s forehead. “You don’t feel cold, brother.”

As they took turns checking each other’s temperature, Kouki reviewed the list to assure he was going to be on time for the rest. He wouldn’t be able to withstand it if he was tardy, not if it was going to result in what he was dealing with now. If anything, he was going to have to make hast, and be at the location a good fifteen minutes beforehand, to prevent another mishap.

The Akashi twins then stopped their experimenting, turning to him with questioning expressions.

“Kouki, are you dead?”

That word was beginning to exhaust him.

“I’m not dead,” he sighed, “I-I’m… death.”

Seijuro Two’s brows lowered. “Is that not the same?”

“Not exactly. You see, it’s… er…”

Oh, for the gods’ sake. He was attempting to explain something complicated to a child. Er… children. Anything he said wasn’t going to sound logical, but he would somehow try to explain the process. Though it seemed impossible at the moment, Kouki was hoping it would lessen their confusion a bit.

“You see… I come when someone is about to pass on,” he began, “No one can see me, so it’s usually pretty easy to get by.”

Usually. Not this time, though.

“But we weren’t dead when we first saw you.” By his wrinkled demeanor, Kouki knew he had only puzzled Seijuro even more. “How come we were able to see you before?”

Of course that would be the first question.

“Because we were ill, so we were kind of in that stage.” Leave it to Seijuro Two to solve that mystery. “Is that not right, Kouki?”

He nodded reluctantly. “… Y-yes.” Kouki heaved a slow breath. “I-I need to... I have to collect your soul so you can go to the next world.”

Given the stares he received, that obviously hadn’t been the correct phrasing.

Seijuro was quiet, his crimson eyes downcast, and the sadness reflecting within them. However, Seijuro Two had a different mindset.

“I don’t want to go yet,” he declared stubbornly, “There’s so many things I still have to do.”

Kouki was beginning to wonder if he would be the first in history that had to endure a situation like this. Where was it in the handbook that death was a babysitter? Especially for two kids that were only supposed to be one soul.

“..A-ah, well… you can’t anymore.”

He ignored the pout, gaze moving to Seijuro who had approached his side, tugging on his shirttail.

“Are you gonna come with us, Furihata-san?”

Kouki nodded. “Yeah, but I need to get the other souls first.”

“Oh, okay.” Seijuro seemed satisfied by the answer. But then continued with, “So then we can stay with you while you do that.” He peered at Seijuro Two for confirmation. “Right, brother?”

Kouki froze.

“H-hey, wait a second—”

“That is fine with me.” Seijuro Two shrugged. “So since we are dead, does that mean we can haunt people? That sounds fun. Does it not, brother?”

Seijuro frowned in disapproval. “No, that’s mean. I don’t wanna.” He clutched one of Kouki’s hands. “I’m gonna stay with Furihata-san.”

Noticing this, Seijuro Two rushed to his other side, grabbing onto his spare.

“I want to hold his hand, too.”

Repressing a groan, Kouki resumed his rounds. Though it was next to impossible to glance at the clipboard with both of his hands captured.

“He doesn’t feel cold like before,” Seijuro voiced, “I wonder if it’s ‘cause we’re dead.”

Seijuro Two scoffed. “What was your first clue? Of course that’s why.”

Trekking down the hallway, Kouki tried to retrieve the clipboard from his inner suit pocket. As he was grudgingly learning… the extremely difficult way… mortals had a tendency to decline faster than what they were scheduled for. He wanted to be absolutely certain there weren’t any changes on the list, ones he had to be on the lookout for.

Somehow… though he was clueless on the how, he was able to nudge it from his jacket, using his chin to keep it in place. Thankfully, nothing had changed, but he wanted to be at the destination early for the name on top in case something did happen to switch.

“How come you do this, Kouki? Is it not odd? Are the people you do this with going to be ghosts, too?”

This shift was going to be filled with never ending questions, wasn’t it.

“They’re not ghosts. They’re… um….” How was he supposed to explain this when the first part already puzzled them? “They’re going to the next world.”

Well, that was half of it. Once the souls for the day in this area were collected, they would be filed before they were able to transform into their once physical form… just not as solid. Which was ironic, since the two Seijuros wouldn’t stop rambling on about ghosts.

“You don’t become a “ghost” until you leave here,” he found himself saying, if he was even making sense, “You’ll see when we do.”

Seijuro Two didn’t seem pleased by the response.

“How is that fun? Everyone there are already ghosts, so no one will be there to haunt.”

This kid was obsessed with scaring people. Yet his “brother”… er… real self… oh forget it… seemed to be the complete opposite.

With a sigh, Kouki reached the fated room, choosing to stay a few feet behind. There were numerous people crowding around the door, most likely delivering their parting words. He quickly peered at the list to be certain that was the only reason, and he hadn’t mistaken it for anything else.

However, there weren’t any staff nearby, other than the ones who assisted the patient’s needs. That brought him a sense of relief in knowing he had been on time.

“Furihata-san.” There was a tug on his sleeve. “Are you gonna go in there and take that person’s soul?”

A slight laugh. “Uh, yeah, but not just yet. We’re going to stay here for a bit.”

“That is boring.” Of course Seijuro Two would find it tedious, but then… “I want to go in and see them.”

Kouki launched forward, grabbing onto his collar when he began to head toward the group.

“N-no! You can’t do that! There are rules we have to follow, so please listen to me.”

“Listen to Furihata-san.” Seijuro wagged his finger. “You’re being rude, brother.”

That idea was instantly dismissed when Seijuro Two noticed how tightly the other was holding onto Furihata.

“Why are you so close?” He frowned. “You are pulling on Kouki’s sleeve.”

“I like Furihata-san.” Seijuro only smushed himself deeper into the dark attire. “He’s really nice.”

And of course, his other side was soon captured, Seijuro Two clutching at him the exact same.

“I like him, too.”

Seijuro glared from his post. “I like him more!”

“No, I do.”

Ignoring their bickering, Kouki observed the various people entering and exiting the room. A doctor then approached, placing his hand on the shoulder of a woman who appeared to be in her early seventies. This was usually where the process began to accelerate, and by the echoing sobs, Kouki knew his hunch was correct.

“That must be his wife,” he mumbled to himself.

Or someone who was extremely dear to him. It was positively awful to have to witness. This was the worst part of the job, the part he absolutely loathed. Hearing family members saying teary goodbyes to their loved one, vowing that they would meet again one day. Despite how miserable this chapter of the cycle might have made him, the second part was acceptable, since he knew that was most of the truth.

“Kouki, are you married?”

He choked, clearly not expecting that, especially when the two had been arguing only seconds ago.

“W-what? N-no, I’m not married.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

Where was this coming from? For that matter, why was a six-year-old asking these type of questions?

Seijuro Two pulled on his shirttail when he didn’t receive an immediate response.

“N-no. I’m not.”

There was another pause, before…

“Then, we should get married.”

Another tug on his sleeve. Seijuro was side-glaring his brother.

“Why do you get to marry him? I wanna marry him!”

Seijuro Two rolled his eyes. “He played a game with me first, so therefore, I get to marry him.”

“He met me first! You only came out after you finally got your juice that you made me ask for!”

Thoroughly exhausted, Kouki scanned the clipboard, confirming the others weren’t advancing early. It probably would have been less of a hassle, if they invested in a signal that would emerge from the list when such circumstances were occurring. Anything was better than craning his neck (especially today, he was doing it more than what was needed) to constantly assure there was no change in the selected names.

Finally, the time had arrived.

Tucking the clipboard back into his inner pocket, he retrieved the black gloves, cautiously sliding them on. Once secure, he turned to the Akashi twins, who had stopped arguing when he began to prepare, and gave them a simple, desperate command.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here. Please!”

Receiving blank stares, Kouki used that as a sign, and entered the room, easily guiding past the family members. He waited patiently, watching the man gasp his last breath, his chest rising and then falling before stilling. The monitor next to him slowed, one final beep freeing him from the binds of life.

He counted the seconds, surveying the soul hovering over the man’s parted lips. Hands trembling, Kouki gently seized it, carefully releasing it into the sack that had appeared only for that task. Once the process was through, it disappeared in a puff of smoke, and Kouki breathed a relieved sigh.

At least this one went according to plan.

Bowing his head in respect, he returned to the hall, just in time to hear-“Since we are ghosts, I bet we can go through that door over there.”

“Ghosts can do that, right?”

“I bet I can get there before you.”

“You’re on!”

The twins then dashed off, heading right on the path that would lead straight into a door. Kouki’s eyes widened, rushing after them, and grabbing them by their shirts before they could collide with it or anything else. They whined in protest, wiggling to free themselves from his grip, but it was futile.

“What are you doing?!”

Seijuro Two was still pouting. “We were only testing if we could go through that door. Seeing how we are ghosts and all.”

His eye twitched. “That’s not how it works! You could have been seriously hurt!”

“Sorry, Furihata-san.” Seijuro’s head was bowed. “We didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Seijuro Two was a little less apologetic, if he was any. “We were only trying to see if we could go through the door.”

“It’s all right.” Kouki’s tone was somewhat calmer. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“But how can we?” Seijuro Two asked, “We are ghosts.”

He was about to resume his course, when there was a sudden, icy waft. Puzzled, Kouki searched for the culprit, and nearly fainted when he realized it was his brother. Had he done something wrong? The Akashi twins mishap, yes, but what else could have slipped by him that he wasn’t aware of?

Rather than lecture him, the elder Furihata stared at the two kids hidden behind Kouki.

“I had this feeling you were in trouble.”

Panic mode activated. “I was late, and they took shape too early! I have no idea how it happened, or how one kid became two!”

His brother patted his back in reassurance.

“It happens. Don’t worry. I’ll take it from here, so you can take them back.”

Wanting to leap in elation was an understatement. Striving to keep the two out of harm, and prevent any mischief had been exhausting. Kouki had been anxiously awaiting to vacate the premises, probably had been for the past half an hour. But the problem was, were they ready? The Akashi twins were still hiding behind him, seemingly frightened at the abrupt presence of his brother.

“Are you ready?” he spoke softly, hoping it would ease them, “We’re going to leave now.”

The elder Furihata noticed how they then latched onto Kouki’s hands, staring up at him suspiciously.

“They seem to have become attached to you.”

Kouki repressed another groan.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered.

Seijuro was the first to respond.

“I’m ready,” he said quietly, peering over at the other, “Are you, brother?”

A snort; obviously he wasn’t.

“I guess.” Seijuro Two shrugged. “I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?”

Kouki squeezed their hands. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see when we get there.”

His final, lingering thought, as they disappeared into the familiar light, was how was he going to survive eternity in this manner? Maybe as the two aged, their fondness toward him would begin to diminish. After all, it was quite possible that they were only attached to him because of all they had endured.

And they were children.

He nodded to himself, confident in his theory. Yes, of course. Once that passed, and they saw that there was nothing to be afraid of, being freed from their illness and regaining happiness, their attachment toward him would fade away.

An unlikely hope.

Ten years later:

Thankfully, after they had returned home that day, they were somehow able to stitch Seijuro back into one person. Though, they constantly switched back and forth, as both still harbored a strong attachment to Kouki, and fought to always have his attention. That had been the difficult part, but eventually, everything had worked out the way it was supposed to.

To some extent…

“Kouki.” Seijuro Two was sitting beside him. “I am a man now. Have you not reconsidered my offer?”

An assistant with blue hair, similar to Kouki’s height, peered over at the still six-year-old.

“What man? I do not see any man here.”

Mismatched eyes narrowed, and the assistant was promptly ignored.

“Kouki,” he nudged again.

“N-no!” was the answer, “You’re a child! I’m not dating you!”

Seijuro Two huffed loudly, not pleased by the response.

“It’s not my fault that you brought me here when I was in my six-year-old body!”

~FIN

#akafuri #akashi x furihata #knb fanfiction #tumblr is going to hide the fic in the search cause the blog is marked as 18+ lol

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wanderingalonelypath · 5 years

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vtmb oc meme 🧛🏻‍♀️

(credit to @denerims) It’s an ask meme, technically, but I just wanna talk about Lyris so w/e!!!

🌹 What clan do they belong to and how do they feel about them?

She’s a Malkavian! At first, she hates it because of how overwhelming the Network is. Having to deal with all the stereotypical fledgling issues and having a bunch of voices whispering to you all the time? It sucked. But as time goes on she learns how to tune out the voices, and after that, learns out how to pick up on the voices that tell her useful things. Once she gets to that point, she wouldn’t trade being a Malk for anything.

🎹 Do they have any special talents or skills?

Jack calls her ‘sharpshooter’ as a nickname sometimes, because she’s wicked with a gun. It doesn’t really make any sense to her as she had never even touched a gun when she was human, but it’s her preferred method of combat as a kindred. She can fight hand to hand, but she's better with a gun. She’s also decent at seduction and dementation.

🌃 Where are they from and where do they live now?

Originally, she was from some small, forgettable town in the southeast. She left as soon as she could after high school, and went to New York to try to make it big. She decidedly...didn’t, but made some good friends in the four years she lived there. On her 22nd birthday, she and her friends took a trip to Hollywood to celebrate. And then....

She lives in the Santa Monica haven while working for Lacroix, and is thrown adrift after the Sarcophagus business.

💢 What is their moral alignment?

True Neutral. She’ll protect her and hers, foremost, but she’d protect the helpless and innocent. For a price.

👯‍♀️ Do they have any notable allies/friends?

Jack and her are pretty close. She wouldn’t say Jeanette was her ally, per se, but she’s fun as hell to hang out with. Ironically, she considered LaCroix a closer ally than almost anyone, despite her spying for the Anarchs the entire time. Toward the end, things got...complicated.

💘 Do they have a romantic interest?

She hooked up with Jeanette on the reg, slept with Damsel and Nines a few times. but like I said before. Near the end, things with LaCroix got...complicated.

🏴 What are their allegiances? (Camarilla/Anarch/Independent/etc)

Works for the Camarilla, spies for the Anarchs, and yeah, that's about as complicated as it sounds. Wouldn’t call herself an independent by any stretch of the word, but isn’t 100% loyal to anyone but herself.

🧛‍♀️ Do they have any preference regarding who they feed on/how they feed?

She’ll feed on whoever’s convenient, but prefers stuck up, snobby rich types like LaCroix because they taste more savory.

⌛ When and how were they turned?

Canon in-game. She got blackout drunk at a bar and went home with some crazy looking skater type and ended up a vampire. What are you gonna do?

🤝 What is their relationship with their sire like?

Well, he’s dead, but she thinks about him sometimes. What an asshole.

🖤 How do they feel about being turned? (How did they adjust? Do they feel differently now than they did when they were first turned?)

It was awful at first. Turning into a vampire isn’t a walk in the park, even more so when you’re a Malkavian. Because of how difficult her transition was, she was pretty quiet and obedient for the first few months of her unlife. It wasn’t until she got the hang of tuning out the voices and then using them to her advantage that she started regaining some of her old personality, with a bit of a wilder edge. A by-product of her Malkavian blood.

💉 Have they sired anyone? If so - why, how and did they claim their childe?

That’s a hard no, chief. She can barely take care of her own kindred self, let alone be responsible for a whole other vampire. Maybe in a couple decades, and that’s a hard MAYBE.

👷🏻‍♂️ What are their opinions on mortals?

Given that she recently was one, pretty normal. She does see how completely wild it is that all these humans are just going about their daily lives with no idea of the entire secret world that lives in the night. She reminisces on how ignorant she was. Still, mortals are food, and she has to detach herself a bit when she feeds. She’s been told that it feels good for mortals, makes it feel like they just got high but can’t remember the last 20 minutes or so, so she doesn’t feel too guilty. It kinda makes her wonder how many times she’s been fed on in her life and just can’t remember it.

👑 What is their opinion on the Camarilla?

She likes the principle but hates what it's been turned into. With all the different types and varieties of vampires, having laws in effect that keep things in order and keep them from getting discovered by kine is necessary, but the leaders of the Camarilla are corrupt and drunk on power. They think they’re exempt from the laws they give. LaCroix confessed to her, near the end, that he joined the Camarilla to try to change it from the inside out, but it was nearly impossible, cue the sand analogy. She ended up admitting to him (in a very tsundere way, not making eye contact and looking out the window of the tower) that if anyone could change it, he could.

💥 The Anarchs?

Understands why they fight against the Camarilla and tries to help them when she thinks it’s right, but also has a bit of loyalty to LaCroix which makes things get sticky.

🧥 The Sabbat?

Thinks they’re insane, like most other kindred. Kills them without a second thought whenever they come after her or get in her way, like most other kindred.

💞 Do they have any opinions on [particular clan]?

Tremere scares the shit out of her, with all the blood magic stuff (although she admits to some envy of those same powers). Pretty much all the Ventrue she’s met have been stuck up pricks. Nosferatu set her on edge at first, but eventually, she felt pretty neutral towards them. Would love to meet other Malkavians but there don’t seem to be any other in the city, besides Therese/Jeanette.

⛪ Do they practice or believe in a religion? (Kindred or mortal)

She wasn’t religious in her mortal life and still isn’t in her kindred life. Open to the possibility, but just doesn’t think it's likely.

🌎 Do they try to retain any part of their humanity?

As much as she can. The last thing she wants is to turn into a mindless beast. she has far too many plans to let that happen.

🚫 Have they ever broken one of the Traditions? (This includes the Masquerade)

Fuck no. She doesn’t want to get killed by some high and mighty vampire for such a little slipup. She keeps her head down with stuff like this.

#my oc #lyris mal #vtmb oc #vampire the masquerade bloodlines #vtmb #vampire the masquerade bloodlines oc #malkavian oc

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twisted-art-wounders · 7 years

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Julio “Gordy” Gordon(-Fallon)

Gordy is the eldest child to Renaldo and Rosa, who happen to be two of the heads of the “Veneno” north of the South American border. While Gordy’s family is actually Peruvian, he and his sister were born this side of the border and have never lived south. Despite being raised in an environment that revered Viktar like any other religious figure, Gordy was never that conforming to his parents’ ideals. He got so argumentative and disobedient that they eventually shipped him off to St. Jerricho’s school where he lived on campus year round; pretty much in retaliation, Gordy purposely ensured that he wouldn’t graduate the school for 3 years straight.

Gordy also rebelled and acted out by h]getting in hard drugs, both using and dealing them, as well as doing sexual acts in exchange for favors or money (but because his family had such a strong tie to the school, he was never expelled despite the strong evidence). He had a very strong reputation on campus for being a drug addict and to be avoided at all costs. That was until DJ showed up.

DJ went out of his way to befriend him at school, since the two of them seemed to be mutual outcasts. Gordy tried to put distance between them in the beginning, but over time DJ wore him down and he gave in to the purposed friendship. His feelings started to shift towards the romantic though, and again he tried to put distance between them because of the 6-7 year age gap between them was a bad thing. Not realizing his friend was crushing on him, DJ pushed again to not lose his best friend. That’s when Viktar stepped in to make things worse; he possessed DJ’s body and seduced Gordy into sleeping with him. It was after that that Gordy realized that DJ was the vessel, and he immediately left school, trying to cut all ties with anything and everyone for DJ’s own safety.

DJ though still wouldn’t back down and lose out on this friendship (he also had no memories of sleeping with Gordy). It took several months, but he eventually found him living in an abandoned building and pregnant. Being the good friend he is, DJ immediately convinced Gordy to go home with him and live in his basement…all without talking it over with his siblings. Gordy was obviously hesitant, but DJ was very persuasive. Cole and Sawyr were not happy to learn about the offer that DJ had made to, what they considered a complete stranger. After much adult discussions though, it was agreed that Gordy could stay with them until the baby was born.

Gordy had originally planned to give the baby up for adoption, and leave then never to be seen again. But the more time he hung around with Sawyr, the more the two of them just clicked. He refused to tell anyone who the baby’s sire was, but when he started to seriously consider keeping it and being with Sawyr, he broke down and told her and she was understandably upset; they worked past that fact though, and DJ still hasn’t been told. Nona was born happy and healthy, and Sawyr moved into the basement with them both.

Nowadays, Gordy works at a record store during the day, has managed to get his GED, and is engaged to Sawyr with plans to get married once she is 18. He’s been sober since he realized he was pregnant with Nona, save for a few slipups for a cigarette in high times of stress, he’s remained so. He is a naga, meaning he can shift between his human shape, and half-snake one; he’s also naturally fluent in snake speech, and knows how to cook.

#Gordy #ocs #tipping the scales #personal projects #theinsanecrayonbox

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flauntpage · 5 years

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Your Complete Eagles and Saints Betting Guide

In many ways, the Philadelphia Eagles enter their matchup with the New Orleans Saints this weekend in a similar spot to what their previous opponent, the Dallas Cowboys, found themselves in a week ago. More than a touchdown underdog on the road against what’s believed to be a far superior team, the Eagles appear outclassed and overmatched. Most people figured they were tuning into the Cowboys’ funeral a week ago, and just as many, if not more, suspect they’ll be viewing the Eagles’ burial late Sunday afternoon. Of course, those projections of a week ago turned out to have the same accuracy as Thursday’s miscalculated snow forecast:

Disgusting loss pic.twitter.com/rFLGQy408k

— The Bitter Birds (@AdrianFedkiw) November 12, 2018

Sports, like the weather, are hard to predict, and I think this brings us to the point the most optimistic of Eagles fans are currently clinging to: anything is possible. While the “any given Sunday” point is a flimsy straw to grasp at, the matchups, momentum, and intangibles of this game sure make it seem like it is the only straw to grasp.

Is there any hope at all for the Eagles this Sunday? Let’s get into it.

Before reading further, if you are in New Jersey and want to bet online, check out our list of all the online sportsbook promos this weekend right here. And for those in Pennsylvania, please be sure to check out our PA sports betting guide.

Eagles at Saints (-8), Over/Under 56

The Saints are scary. They enter scoring a league-best 36.7 points per game, while the Eagles have managed only 22 points per contest. It’s hard to imagine a scenario in which the Eagles can bridge the gap on those 14.7 points. Even if the Eagles offense is firing on all cylinders, concocting a plan to slow down Drew Brees a week after making Dak Prescott look good seems like a tall order.

The thing that really scares me about the Saints is that in previous years they’ve been prone to letdowns and slipups. The Saints are a classic “I think they’ll win, let me tease them down to just win the game” type of team. It’s been hard to trust the Saints to cover bigger numbers over the years because of their inconsistent defense, but it’s easy to talk yourself into Brees prevailing in the end. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen victim to this logic as they end up playing a head-scratching clunker that busts up a moneyline parlay or teaser bet. We actually saw this Week 1 in their 48-40 loss at home to Tampa Bay, and almost saw it again the following week when they barely survived Cleveland at home, but since then they have been lights out. Not only are they 8-1, but they are 7-2 ATS, including seven-straight covers.

I thought they would have a letdown in Baltimore back in Week 7 after Drew Brees set the passing yards record on Monday Night Football the previous week. Nope. Maybe they would slip up on the road against a solid Vikings team? Nah. Then they knocked off the darling Rams at home and followed that statement win up with a trouncing of the Bengals on the road in a game that had letdown written all over it.

The Saints just hung 35 points in one half against the Bengals

#NOvsCIN pic.twitter.com/ptKzpbdCuF

— Cricket Alliance (@CricketAlliance) November 12, 2018

35 points in a half? The Eagles haven’t scored 35 points in a game this season.

The point is, if you’re expecting a sloppy performance from a team feeling itself, well, don’t get your hopes up.

When the Saints Have the Ball

The Saints have the NFL’s top scoring offense, average 413.9 yards per game, convert 46.2% of third downs, and, frankly, look unstoppable. Drew Brees has completed 77% of his passes while throwing for 2,601 yards to go along with 21 touchdowns and only one interception. Brees is averaging 8.4 yards per pass, and while both he and his playmakers deserve a ton of credit for the offense’s success, he has been sacked on only 2.83% of his pass drops this season, which is a credit to the Saints’ offensive line. New Orleans, however, will be without starting left tackle Terron Armstead this week, and the Eagles will have to take advantage of his absence if their depleted defense is to have any chance of slowing down the Saints’ explosive passing attack. Brees, with time, scanning the field for Michael Thomas is not going to end well.

The Saints may only average 4.1 yards per carry, but have a Top 10 rushing attack at 126.8 yards per game because of a steady commitment to the run. New Orleans is No. 2 in the NFL with 30.7 rushing attempts per game. The Eagles, meanwhile, are only allowing 93.4 yards per game on the ground, but that’s a bit deceiving. Opponents average a healthy 4.7 yards per rush, but typically attempt to exploit the Eagles through the air. Opposing teams run the football only 31.8% of plays against Jim Schwartz’s defense.

Of particular concern (and there are many) for the Eagles is finding a way to keep running back Alvin Kamara in check. They have struggled to slow down opposing running backs in the passing game this season, and Kamara has excelled with 55 catches for 473 yards and three touchdowns to go along with his 546 rushing yards and 11 touchdowns. Oh, and don’t forget about Mark Ingram, who has 405 total scrimmage yards and three touchdowns since coming off his four-game suspension to start the season.

When the Eagles Have the Ball

The Eagles have moved the football with some success this season, but have been a below average scoring offense thanks to untimely breakdowns and red zone inefficiency. The Eagles’ 55.9% red zone TD percentage is 17th in the NFL. It’s imperative they take full advantage of scoring opportunities this week, and they have a favorable matchup against the Saints’ 28th ranked red zone defense that’s allowing opponent touchdowns at a 72.4% rate.

From a statistical standpoint, Carson Wentz is enjoying a terrific season, completing 71% of his passes for 2,148 yards, 15 touchdowns and three interceptions. Still, the Eagles are only 3-4 in his starts, and Wentz has taken some criticism locally, fair or not, for not finishing the deal late in games. The Eagles will need him at his best this Sunday and he should thrive against a pass defense that’s near the bottom of the league in opponent completion percentage, opponent yards per pass, and opponent pass yards per game. Defensive end Cameron Jordan is a terrific player, but the Saints have gotten to the quarterback on only 6.21% of pass drop backs. If the Eagles can keep Wentz clean, which has been a struggle at times, he should have success.

Exacerbating the Eagles’ dependency on Wentz is an inconsistent rushing attack that has a difficult matchup this week. The Saints defense is allowing only 3.7 yards per rush and a league-best 80.1 rush yards per game. Whether the Eagles can get something out of a mediocre run game averaging only 102.7 yards per game led by Wendell Smallwood and Josh Adams will go a long way in determining their ability to stay in the game.

Betting Trends

The Eagles opened as a 7.5-point underdog, but as of Friday morning the line has climbed all the way to Saints -9 at some books. Given the popularity of the two teams and its national exposure as the late national game, it will undoubtedly be one of the most heavily bet games of the week. Currently, 40% of point-spread bets back the Eagles, but 66% of money is behind them. That would indicate the big money bettors are on the Eagles.

Meanwhile, the game total has risen from 54 to 56 points throughout the week. The public has been all over the, uh, over this week.

If you would like to wager on the game risk-free with a $50 bet, then I highly suggest you check out the very generous promo BetStarsNJ has going on this weekend. You don’t even need to make a deposit.

Things to know

Here’s some hope for Eagles fans. The last time the Eagles were this big of an underdog was back in 2015 under Chip Kelly when they went on the road and (somehow) beat the Patriots. Furthermore, while the Saints are an outstanding 7-2 ATS this season, they’ve struggled as a big home favorite, going 2-8 ATS in their last 10 games when favored by seven or more points at home. Their two ATS losses this season came in this same spot.

But it’s not all good for the Eagles. They are only 4-13 ATS before playing the Giants since 2010. Drew Brees is 4-0 ATS against teams allowing less than 21 points per game this season. It’s presumed the Saints will score 30 points this week, and if they do, that’s a problem for the Eagles. They have gone 5-25 ATS the last 30 times they’ve allowed at least that many points in a game.

The Saints playing on Thanksgiving night. Why does this matter? Teams playing on Thanksgiving are 15-2-1 ATS in the game prior since 2015. Only 17 teams have won seven-straight games ATS dating back to 2003. Those teams were 9-8 ATS in their following game.

Prediction

The Eagles’ five losses have come by a combined 22 points and they haven’t lost a game by two possessions yet this season. Matchups aside, it would be a bit out of character for them to lose a game by double digits.

I can’t get myself to a place where I look at this game from a purely football standpoint and see how a depleted defense that can’t force turnovers is somehow going to slow down a quarterback that has thrown only one interception this season. I can’t see how the Eagles below average rushing attack can control the game on the ground against a good Saints run defense, but…here’s where I’m struggling. How many people are going look at the board late Sunday afternoon and tease down the Chargers to -1 and the Saints to -2.5 or -3? I have a bit of conspiracy theorist in me, and that just seems way too easy. Maybe it’s the Chargers that falter, but I’ve seen similar set ups in the past and it almost never ends well.

I can’t envision a scenario in which the Eagles win this game, but only eight teams in the past 15 years have covered eight straight games (the 2017 Eagles were the last to do it), the Saints have struggled as a big home favorite, and the sharp money is backing the Eagles as of Friday afternoon. If that last point remains true prior to kick off, I’ll roll with a small play on the Eagles.

One more thing: 15 of the 20 Eagles road games under Doug Pederson have hit the over. Given that I expect a close contest, I’ll take the bait, and look for an over.

Saints 36, Eagles 33

The post Your Complete Eagles and Saints Betting Guide appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Your Complete Eagles and Saints Betting Guide published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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ericsonclan · 3 years

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Always and Forever

Summary: It's finally the day - Violet's going to propose to Prisha.

Word Count: 3829

Read on A03:

Violet’s pits were sweating buckets. She’d already gone through three sets of tissues thrust under her armpits by early afternoon and her body showed no sign of slowing down. Violet couldn’t really blame herself though – it wasn’t every day something so momentous happened. In fact, this might just be the biggest day of her entire life so far. Today she was proposing to Prisha.

Everything was already planned out. Violet had snuck one of Prisha’s rings from her jewelry to figure out the right ring size weeks ago and the ring box had been burning a hole in her pocket for the past week. Candles had been bought to set the right mood tonight and since it was Thursday Prisha would get off work and head home early, giving Violet time to set up here at Ericson’s Diner. She’d also confided in Louis so he would know to clear out the restaurant of all staff for the special night.

As Violet walked past Louis in the break room, she wondered if she’d made a mistake in letting him know. Louis had been extra vivacious today, practically bursting with excitement in every interaction he had. And he kept glancing over Violet’s way and sending her knowing smiles. This morning when Louis handed her the to do list for the day, he downright winked at her. Violet could only hope he wasn’t being this obvious with Prisha. Then again, Prisha tended to write off most of Louis’ antics as par for the course. Hopefully any overly cheeriness on Louis’ part would simply be seen as excitement for a date night with Clementine.

Slipping into the staff bathroom, Violet cursed under her breath as she threw out the soggy tissues and tucked new ones under her arms. At this rate she might need to make an emergency run to the store for more. Slipping back out, Violet straightened the hem of her dress shirt. She could do this. She just needed to get through the rest of the day with no slipups

“You doing alright, Vi?” Brody’s voice behind her made Violet jump. She turned round to see the waitress with a worried look on her face. “You’ve been looking pale all morning. Do you need to take a break? I could get you some Tylenol or Advil if that would help,”

“Nah, it’s nothing,” Violet lied, trying to avoid eye contact and slip past her employee. “Just a busy day. Gotta run,” She was so focused on escaping the awkward conversation that she didn’t realize the doors to the back were opening from the other side and bumped right into Clementine as she came through them with a tray full of dirty dishes.

“Holy-!” Clementine exclaimed, just barely righting herself in time. A single plate precariously slid toward the edge of the tray, but Violet caught it quickly.

“Shit, sorry Clem. Didn’t look where I was going,”

“It’s alright, you’ve got a lot on your mind today,”

The evenness of Clem’s tone had Violet glancing up in curiosity. Did she know? As soon as their eyes met the answer to that was clear. Louis had promised not to tell a soul, but no secret he held got past Clementine. The light smile on Clementine’s face and the twinkle in her eye though assured Violet she had nothing to worry about. Clem had a good head on her shoulders. She wouldn’t let anything spill.

Reiterating her apology one last time, Violet stepped past Clementine and out into the front of the restaurant once more. Her brows furrowed as she checked the time. 2:07. She was still hours away from closing time. She could make it though, as long as she stayed calm. Calm and busy. Picking up her clipboard, Violet scanned over the to do list once more. That was it. She’d keep too busy to think of anything else. That would work. It had to.

---

The bar closed at 9 on Thursdays. As Violet headed over to where Prisha stood putting on her coat, the words of her excuse cycled again and again round her mind. Prisha spotted Violet quickly, a smile crossing her lips as she reached to take Violet’s hand in hers. “Ready to head out, love? I haven’t seen much of you all day. It almost made me wonder if you were avoiding me,” The teasing lilt in her tone was echoed in the warmth of her eyes.

“Yeah, sorry bout that. Shit hit the fan a couple times today. Had to put out some fires- not literal ones! Just some stupid drama,”

Prisha’s eyes sparkled with interest at that word. “Oh? Well, you can tell me about it in the car on the way home,”

“Actually… I have to work late,”

“Work late? What in heaven’s name for?”

“Not sure exactly. Some sort of co-owner stuff. Louis’ idea,”

Prisha’s expression hardened and her eyes roamed the restaurant in search of the man. “Let me just have a word with him then and-”

“No!” Violet’s hands shot up in protest before they clasped Prisha’s. “It’s not his fault. It’s just shit that comes with being an owner,”

“Very well then…” Prisha lips fell into a pout, loath to accept this but knowing it to be true. “You won’t be long?”

“Not at all. Lou will give me a ride home too,”

“Alright,” Prisha pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek. “Be safe,”

“Always,”

With that Prisha was gone. It would still be another hour before Ericson’s Diner closed for the night. Violet went to find the waitresses for this shift and make sure they knew Ericson’s was closing at 10 sharp tonight, no exceptions. She was halfway to the back when all of a sudden a wave of stank hit her. Oof. The tissues were doing nothing to mask her smell. She couldn’t propose like this. It was too late to head home to change though.

Mind racing, Violet considered her options. The car was gone. Her bike was in the break room, but she wouldn’t be able to get anywhere on bike that sold shirts at this time of night. The ding of her phone pulled Violet out of her thoughts. She checked her messages to see it was Louis.

How’s my bestie doing on this most momentous day? Everything going according to plan?

Reluctantly, Vi penned a reply. Need help. You know anywhere I could get a shirt within the hour?

Her phone chimed again. Just leave it to me! Lou is on the case!

Well, her fate was in Louis’ hands now. And if he was heading out to solve her crisis, that meant Violet was in charge of the restaurant till closing time. Trying her best not to panic, Vi headed to the back room to see how the staff was wrapping up things for the night.

---

It wasn’t until 10:30 PM that all customers and staff were gone. Violet looked around the empty restaurant bathed in darkness, most lights off save for a few in the back rooms and office. Perfect. Now she could get to work. Opening the bag she’d been storing for weeks in the break room, Violet began to place the myriad of candles she’d bought over the last month all over the bar. Louis still wasn’t back with a replacement shirt yet, but she couldn’t let herself get distracted by that. No point panicking over what she couldn’t control.

A sudden rustling at the front door had Violet’s head turning toward the entrance. She’d already locked it for the night. A moment later Louis was striding through, key in one hand and a garment bag in the other. He was breathing heavily. “I know I’m late, but I came back as fast as I could! I found you the perfect shirt too – it’s part of the autumn line at-

Violet grabbed the garment bag out of Louis’ hands before he could say more and hurried to the break room to change. Louis followed close behind, waiting outside the locked door to hear Violet’s reaction. A muffled curse could be heard from behind the door. “What kind of fancy ass shit is this?”

“Oooh, lemme see! Lemme see!” Louis exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

Violet exited the room looking truly done. The shirt Louis had picked was a shimmery pearlescent white with flowy fabric, no sleeves and a neckline that dipped a few inches lower than anything Violet owned.

Louis gasped in awe. “Viiiiii you look amazing! You’re gonna make such a beautiful bride!”

“It’s not my wedding tonight, dumbass!” Vi looked down at the shirt in despair. It was far too late to find anything else. She didn’t know what Louis was thinking. This looked far more like something Prisha would wear than her. Maybe that meant Prisha would like it on her though? Violet would have to hope that and keep moving forward with the plan. “Well, thanks anyway. You saved me from proposing in something with pit stains,”

“Anytime! Anything else I can help with?” Louis looked at her hopefully.

“Well, I guess you could help me light al the candles at the bar. I think I went overboard. I bought like 200,”

“Awww, look at you – the master of romance!” Louis playfully waggled his eyebrows before turning on his heel. “I have one of those lighter sticks hidden in the office for birthdays! We’ll get those candles lit in no time flat!”

Once the lighter had been dug out from where it had been jammed in the back of one of the office desk drawers the pair set to work. Louis was surprisingly silent as he focused on the task of lighting candles with the matches Violet had bought while Violet used the lighter as he’d insisted they trade. The setting was peaceful, almost ethereal. In the quiet of the moment, Violet’s thoughts finally caught up with her. She was actually doing this. Holy fuck. Was she insane?

“Nervous?” Louis’ voice was calm now, gentle. Violet looked up to see the same tone reflected within his eyes. Glancing back down at her hand, she saw that it was shaking as she tried to light yet another candle. Louis stepped forward and gently placed his hand atop Violet’s, guiding the lighter to the unlit candle before them. “You know she’ll say yes,”

Part of Violet knew he was right. She and Prisha had been together for well over a year now. They’d moved in together. Hell, they’d even adopted a cat together. But there was still a part of her, that frightened, quiet self within the shadows, that never believed any of this was possible. Slipping her free hand into her pocket, Violet’s fingers brushed against the corners of the ring box. This was real. She knew Prisha loved her. All Violet had to do was be brave enough to ask.

“Can I see the ring? Or do I have to wait like everybody else?” Louis’ voice had a teasing lilt to it, but Violet knew he sincerely wanted to see it.

“Sure,” Digging the box out of her pocket, Violet showed him the ring. She’d decided to go with something different from the regular diamond rings and had gotten a moonstone. Its soft glow and ethereal beauty seemed perfect for Prisha.

Louis whistled appreciatively. “Wow, that’s gorgeous! She’s gonna love that!”

“You think?” Violet hadn’t taken anyone ring shopping with her, wanting to pick the ring for herself.

“Definitely! Prisha is so gonna cry when she sees all this,” Louis glanced round the room at the ethereal glow of all the candles. “I’m gonna turn off the fire alarms just to make sure they don’t go off mid proposal. Remind me to turn them back on later,” With that he headed off to disable the first alarm while Violet continued working on lighting the candles.

Eventually every candle was lit and every alarm turned off. Violet and Louis stood side by side, admiring their work. Louis smiled over at Violet. “Hug for good luck?”

Violet usually resisted such displays of affection but not this time. She loosely wrapped her arms round her best friend’s waist as Louis pulled her into a warm hug. They stayed in silence like that for a few moments before Louis broke it once more.

“I’m really proud of you. This is a big step,”

“Thanks,” Violet murmured, her face still buried against his chest.

“Tell me how it goes, ok?” Louis gave one final squeeze to the hug then let go. “And by ‘tell me’ I mean text me. Tonight. Please. Otherwise I’ll be up all night,”

“Sure,” Violet smiled softly before Louis headed out the front door. She really did appreciate having a confidante in all this and the encouragement he always provided. With Louis gone though and everything in place, it was finally time. Violet pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Prisha.

Hey, can you come pick me up? Louis had to leave early – family emergency

She almost immediately received a text back.

Of course. I hope it wasn’t anything serious.

Nah, didn’t get details but I don’t think it was. I’ll be waiting outside.

See you in 10.

Violet stepped outside of the restaurant, taking the moment to let the cool evening breeze clear her head. Her thoughts kept cycling back to the proposal, the words she’d practiced in front of the mirror running through her mind again and again. She wondered if Prisha expected anything, if she’d picked up on any weird behavior from Violet in the last few weeks. Whatever the case, soon enough the proposal would happen and all that would remain was Prisha’s response. Till then, Violet was restless; she paced back and forth in a futile search for peace.

After what seemed like an eternity, Prisha’s car pulled into the parking lot. She drove right up to the restaurant then rolled down the passenger window. Her eyebrow quirked in curiosity. “Is that a new blouse? It looks great on you,”

“Uhhhhh yeah. Louis gave it to me. It was a random friendship gift or something,”

What a terrible lie. Prisha seemed to buy it though, simply nodding. “That’s sweet,” She patted the passenger seat beside her. “Hop on in,”

“Actually, there’s something I need to grab from inside,”

“I’ll wait,”

“No… it’s something big. I need your help,” It was a shitty excuse, but it was all Violet could think of in the moment.

Prisha looked rather confused but nodded nonetheless and put the car in park. Rolling up the window, she then stepped out of the car and walked toward the restaurant with Violet, taking her hand almost without thinking. “This certainly has been a night full of shifting plans. I have no idea what couldn’t possibly wait till…” her words faded off as they stepped inside Ericson’s Diner together.

Violet glanced over at Prisha to see her reaction. Her girlfriend looked surprised, intrigued and after a few seconds to take in their altered surroundings, happy. The candlelight reflected in her eyes as she turned to Violet with a warm smile. Violet smiled back and squeezed Prisha’s hand gently. “Surprise,”

“Violet… this is beautiful! I wasn’t expecting this at all! I wondered if I should mention the six-month anniversary of moving in together but second guessed it as being too sappy. Yet here you are making a full-blown celebration of it!”

Oh. Shit. Violet felt her stomach twist inside her. If Prisha thought that was all this was, should she just go with it, celebrate tonight and leave the proposal for a time when she felt braver, more sure of herself? No, she had to see this through. There’d never be a time when this wasn’t terrifying. And Violet wanted this so badly, more than almost anything she’d ever dreamed of. Shaking her head, she guided Prisha forward. “It’s for more than that,”

“Oh?” The curiosity was clear on Prisha’s face, but she stayed quiet, waiting for elaboration. Both of them were silent as they circled behind the bar to climb up on top of it, sitting cross-legged in the one spot amidst the entire room that wasn’t covered with candles.

Once they were settled, Violet took a shaky breath. She wanted to look Prisha in the face for this, but she couldn’t summon the courage. Instead, her eyes stayed locked on their joined hands as she started to speak. “Growing up, I never expected much out of life. With where I was born and who I was, happiness just didn’t seem in the cards for me, not for a long time at least. Yeah, I made friends and I found my way in the world, but romance? I was always pretty clueless about that. Didn’t have much luck over the years; barely even tried,”

Violet glanced up for a moment, getting caught in the beauty of her girlfriend’s eyes. “And then I met you. You know the first time I saw you, that moment you pulled me out from under the bar and threatened to beat in my face with a baseball bat? I didn’t say anything cause my mind blanked when I saw how pretty you were,”

Prisha blushed at that, a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. “Violet, I-”

“Wait. Just let me finish everything I’ve gotta say then you can have a turn, OK?” Violet’s hands were trembling a bit within Prisha’s. Seeming to sense the gravity of what was happening if not the purpose, Prisha silently nodded, giving Violet the space to talk she needed.

Violet roughly cleared her throat then continued. “I’m not sure why you even gave me the time of day at first. I mean, I guess it was since I was your boss but still. I’m glad you did. I hadn’t even known you that long before I found myself wanting to be around you all the time, finding excuses like inventory and shit to come and talk with you. Then when I finally decided to try and impress you…” Violet groaned, letting her head fall between their joined hands. “That time I chugged all those maraschino cherries. I can’t believe you were open to dating me after that,”

“That still is, to this day, one of the most magnificent things I have ever seen you do. But go on,” Prisha coaxed, smiling softly down upon her anxious girlfriend. Violet raised her head to continue.

“I should probably skip ahead, huh? I must be driving you nuts,”

“No! I love the play by play!”

“Ok, ok… I just feel like I’m rambling is all. I never talk this much,” Violet ran her thumbs along the tops of Prisha’s hands. “Dating you was surprisingly easy. I didn’t think we’d last a week, you being this bartender goddess and I’m a nugget gremlin like Mitch always says. But I never felt bad about myself when I was around you. Shit, you made me feel better about myself. Cause for the first time I wasn’t seeing myself through my eyes or whatever fucked up way the world had made me believe I was. I was seeing myself through your eyes,”

Violet looked up and saw tears were pricking the corners of Prisha’s eyes. Letting go of one of her hands, Violet softly reached up to wipe her tear away. “I’m a better person from being with you, Prisha. You’ve helped me through so much, you’ve seen me at my worst. You even stood up to my dad and told him off right to his face. I’ve never seen anybody do that. You’re the most badass girl I know. And that’s why…”

Violet paused, trying to wrestle the ring box from her pocket without knocking over any candles. She could feel Prisha’s hand tense in hers; finally, she’d realized what this was. No going back now. With a final grunt Violet freed the ring box and popped it open. “I want to marry you, Prisha. This thing that we have together, I want forever. And I hope you do too,”

“Oh, Violet!” Tears were freely flowing at this point. Prisha leaned forward, pulling Violet into a warm embrace before kissing her deeply. Violet moaned softly into the kiss, her own arms coming round Prisha’s waist as they lost themselves in the moment. Nothing existed in that moment but them; her and Prisha and pure bliss.

When they finally pulled back for air, Violet’s heart was pounding. It took her a moment to realize she’d never officially asked the question. “Prisha… will you marry me?”

“YES! Oh yes, a million times yes!” Prisha wrapped Violet in another hug, peppering her face with kisses. “I can’t believe this! I always thought I’d be the one to eventually get up the nerve to pop the question, but you…” Prisha’s voice faded for a moment as she gazed into Violet’s eyes, her heart too full of emotion to speak. “Violet Miller, you are extraordinary,”

“Shut up,” Violet murmured, her face burning as she looked down, overwhelmed by embarrassment and ecstasy.

“I only speak the truth,” Prisha glanced at the ring box still clutched tightly in Violet’s hand. “The ring you chose too – it’s stunning! That’s it, I’ve decided: tomorrow I’m calling in sick and we’re going shopping for your ring!”

“You wouldn’t even need to call in sick. Louis would just give us the day off for something like this. Oh shit, Louis!” Violet pulled out her phone and sent a quick message. she said yes

Her text was immediately met with an outpouring of hearts, confetti, balloon, cake, star and heart eye cat emojis from Louis. Violet thought he’d stop at one text but by the time he’d sent five or six she decided to simply turn her phone off for the rest of the night.

“We’re engaged! I can’t believe it – my heart is still pounding and- what now?” Prisha looked into Violet’s eyes with excitement.

“Shit. Ummm, I didn’t plan anything for afterwards…”

“Then I shall take over! First, a late night McDonald’s run. We’ll commemorate this night with nuggets! Then we’ll stop by the pet store a block over and pick up a toy for Sir Tubbs before we give him the big announcement! No, the toy store will be closed by now…. The toy shall wait but the announcement shall not! Then I have to text everybody I know and share the wonderful news and-”

Violet listened happily as Prisha rambled on, holding her girlfriend’s hands in her own. No, not her girlfriend. Her fiancée. She was engaged. Violet couldn’t believe it. Yet somehow, watching Prisha as she burst with excitement over what sort of electronic stationery she’d use for the announcement, Violet felt as though this made the most sense of anything in her entire life. She wanted to be with Prisha forever and Prisha felt the exact same way.

She couldn’t wait to get married.

#twdg #twdg privet #twdg prisha #twdg violet #fanfic #ericson's diner au #twdg louis #louis violet brotp

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