The newest trope this season, does exactly what it says on the tin. Fancy some angst involving the best of the bunch, sure thing you got it. Want some definitely not canon stories to escape from the reality, got that in the basement. Want to read about your favourite character in a place where the character almost certainly is dead but for sake of sanity is no longer dead. No problem let me get that down from the top shelf for you.
I don't know if you take requests, but could I possibly request a part 2 for Goodnight - Soryu Oh ? I absolutely adored that one, and I just really want more of that dynamic with Eisuke owning her but Soryu wanting her. (To add to the request, maybe a bit of kidnap and rescue??)
Created and uploaded, although I’ve stretched to a three part series for Goodnight, I didn’t want to create a piece that was too long, thank you for enjoying Goodnight
A/n: i reread this after a couple notifications and I thought why stop at two parts. Make that three parts, plus if I only had 2 the second would be incredibly long. So enjoy. We stan one Chinese mafia boss.
The gentle shifting of paperwork accompanied the dull silence in the Ice Dragon’s office. Occasionally he’d find the pen in his hands faltering as his mind recollected a fleeting memory. He could still remember the red tint of her skin and the way her breath had hitched as his fingers had rubbed circles into the skin of her thighs. If he tried hard enough – if he concentrated enough, he could still feel the warmth that at one point covered his lips.
A wobbly sigh fell from the man; he pinched the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to dispel the memory. Now was hardly the time to remember the way she clung to his shoulders, or her soft fingers in his hair. If the others could see him now, he’d be the running joke for the next few auctions. His icy façade would be reduced to dust with just a few quips from Baba and Eisuke.
“Mr Oh?” Came a timid voice, he could barely believe his ears as he jumped in his seat. His eyes flicked to the door. Upon confirmation that the door was indeed still closed and a softly spoken maid had not seen a grown man jump in his seat like a teenager being caught on the wrong type of website by their mother, he released his breath. An almost inaudible chuckle sprung from the recesses of his throat. “Mr Oh, are you in there?”
“Ah come in” Oh coughed; his cheeks briefly dusting red at the notion that he’d failed to respond. Soryu’s eyes – to his frustration – followed her form much like a predator. In every step she took he remembered the bar as she leaned so close to him that the lavender in her scent had embedded itself into the fabric of his suit jacket. In the way she greeted him with a soft smile, he remembered the way she had laughed through the corridors and the way she had looked at him as she pushed the hair from his forehead. “To what do I owe this pleasure” He announced. For a minute the Ice Dragons’ boss found himself showing his gratitude to whichever benevolent god allowed his voice to stay firm.
“Eisuke wanted me to ask you to come to the Penthouse, apparently you weren’t answering your phone” Her words graced the air, almost as though every syllable were a tiny ballerina dancing the swan lake. Soryu took a moment to flick his gaze to the screen of his phone. The device hadn’t rung since morning when Mamoru had confirmed that Inui had been released with yet another caution. Eisuke hadn’t requested him. He’d have known. The man’s ringtone had been set to a deafening noise that closely resembled a chihuahua. “You’ve got a nicely decorated office; in fact, this whole building wasn’t what I imagined.”
“What did you imagine?” Soryu queried with a quirk of his eyebrow. He gestured for her sit as he slowly lifted himself from his own seat. “Tea?” He added.
“Please. I guess I imagined guns and blood everywhere, burly men with scars and tattoos. Not…” She trailed off deep in thought as she watched Soryu busy his hands with the tea brewing. He could see in her small winces that his tea brewing skills weren’t the best, but he’d be damned if he asked her to that sort of thing outside of her workplace.
“Not golden retrievers and Labradors” He jested. The comment brought a half-stifled laugh from her, and he revelled in the way her eyes squinted in amusement. In all his years Soryu had made few people laugh, instead he treated people with a respectable distance. This was the first time he genuinely found himself wanting to hear someone’s amusement. He wanted to make her cackle until tears spilled from her eyes.
“That’s probably the easiest way to describe Ryosuke and Samejima, Mr Oh. Both fiercely loyal and friendly” She responded. Soryu froze for a second as he lifted both cups of tea. In her drunken state she had no problem calling him by his name and yet. She’d returned to the formality of his last name. He hadn’t felt further from the woman. The closeness they had shared had been shattered that night. “I forgot to apologise and thank you for lending me your suite the other night. I did want to thank you the next time you came to the penthouse, but Mr Ichinomiya said you’d been too busy to come”
Soryu’s stomach dropped in an instant. His cup tilting just enough for a dash of amber liquid to fly over the edge. He felt the pain almost immediately as he jumped from his seat. The cup finding its way quickly to the table.
“Are you ok?” Her worried voice filled his ears as he let the sensation pass. He peeled the material of his shirt – and once again thanked the benevolent gods – that he wore a black shirt. He nodded ferociously his voice to unsteady in his throat. “Is that the time? Eisuke will kill me if I’m late to get him his afternoon coffee”
“I’ll take you” Soryu found himself instantly speaking. A silent plea for her agreement. He wanted to spend a little more time with the woman, before Eisuke had her running errands until the balls of her feet ached. He couldn’t stop his chest from aching at her use of Eisuke’s name.
“I couldn’t, I interrupted your work” She countered. Soryu glanced at the long since forgotten paperwork, a few signatures and contracts could wait. Everything could wait if it meant five more minutes in her presence.
“I just finished before you came in.” Oh lied. His professional smile graced his features momentarily and he was thankful that they hadn’t spent enough time together for her to be able to differentiate. “Not to mention Eisuke”
“Well, if you wouldn’t mind…” The maid trailed off, her hand flying to her pocket at the aggravating beeping noise. “Speak of the devil” She whistled. Soryu found himself frowning, his hand unconsciously tightening. “We should probably get going”
--
Every jostle of the car sent Soryu’s mind reeling; every turn her body would tap at his and he’d be thrown back to that night, and to all the lonely hours where he had fantasised. He hadn’t been aware until they had pulled up at the hotel that he had been holding his breath. Or that he had unconsciously leaned further towards her soothing nature.
A hand remained hoovering at her lower back as he guided her through the hotel towards the penthouse. Soryu’s eyes had noted the ways her colleagues had cowered slightly at the sight of him; only to have relaxed as they turned their gaze to the happily smiling maid. Even as they walked into the Spades Room Soryu walked behind her, his hand reaching for any door as she walked in.
“Sor” Baba’s voice sang as he spotted the mafia boss. Baba’s gaze hadn’t missed Soryu’s subtle chivalry, Soryu could see it in the way the thief nodded with a smirk at him. “Mamoru has been tirelessly looking for you”
“He’s right, Kishi hasn’t slept since we had drinks. He kept moaning about the hassle you’ve been bringing him.” Ota’s voice boomed from the opposite side. Soryu rolled his eyes; his form moving away from the entrance, the maid having long since abandoned him to do her work.
The room settled into a comfortable hum of conversation between Ota, Baba, and the maid. Kishi remained silently glaring at the thief and painter from his position by the window. A cigarette hung loosely between his teeth as he casually acknowledged Soryu. The Ice Dragon frowned, before situating himself on the sofa. Soryu’s gaze unconsciously followed after the girl. Her figure gliding across the penthouse with as much ease as a swan on water.
“I must say, I thought you’d have succumbed to temptation before I had to call you here” Eisuke’s voice echoed across the sofa. His ever observant eye had watched the Ice Dragon – his friend – from the second he had entered with Ichinomiya property. Soryu shot him an icy glare. “Please, as much as I enjoy teasing you, I actually called you here for business.”
Eisuke whistled, the young maid spinning on her heal a coffee cup in hand. Her jaw tightened and a glint of fear flickered in her eyes as she awaited Eisuke’s commands.
“Coffee” Eisuke barked. She immediately spun herself back around, hands busy brewing Eisuke’s coffee. Both men watched. Only one held a menacing smile as his dull eyes moved over his new source of entertainment. Ichinomiya had thought about the multitude of scenarios between the maid and the mafia boss. He’d spent far too much time putting the pieces in place in order to test the Ice Dragon himself. “It was tempting right. To cross the boundaries again, after one taste it’s easy to get addicted. I’m certainly addicted to her coffee brewing skills.” Eisuke uttered.
Soryu clenched his jaw. His features adopting a stoic mask. A mask he hoped Eisuke wouldn’t break beyond repair.
“For half a million I’ll give her to you for a day” Eisuke remarked. “To do with as you please, perhaps you can finish what you started. For one whole day what’s mine could be yours”
“What business do you have?” Soryu questioned. Eisuke chuckled.
“Ever the businessman, the girl has eyes on her. I’m surprised she made it to your office without being snatched. Don’t glare, Kishi was waiting in the background” Eisuke explained. Lavender filled his nostrils as he blinked. He watched as his coffee was placed before him before the maid handed Eisuke his.
“Thank you” Soryu uttered. “If you know this, why hasn’t the useless detective done something already”
“I don’t care what happens to her.” Eisuke reprimanded “I’m telling you because we’re friends. Not to mention what happened between you both the other day. She doesn’t remember it was you”
“Give her to me” Soryu growled. For a second the air stilled, all conversation froze as Soryu’s anger flared. Eisuke’s eyes remained bored as he watched Soryu’s outburst. “The Ice Dragons can protect her; I’ll find the people who want to get to you”
“Relax Soryu. I’ve sorted it. It was too good an opportunity to tease you to pass up” Eisuke smirked. Soryu sunk into his seat, relief flooding him as he closed his eyes. He was regretting showing his face.
“Eisuke, I’ve finished cleaning, if you’ll excuse me.” The maid announced; Soryu lingered on her use of Eisuke’s name. “Goodbye Mr Oh”
The pair watched her retreat. Eisuke casting an amused smile at his friend.
“Still Mr Oh, Sor.” Baba beamed. “I wonder why you’re the only one she calls by their last name.”
A/N: This request got away from me in the space of the actual request and now, I can only apologise.
She knew better. She did, but it didn’t stop her eyes from following the dainty figures of Sakiko and Chisato. Nor did it prevent the thoughts from beating her down as she watched each woman attached to Eisuke’s arm or fleeing from Baba’s suite.
‘Oink’ The noise followed the maid everywhere. Always in the same nasally voice that stalked the hallways in every version of Tres Spades. Erika had wormed her vindictive nature into the quiet joyful moments the maid spent in the arms of the man she loved.
Mirrors always remained behind her; her gaze fixed on the floor as she passed the reflective surfaces. Her free time, that she would spend relaxing with the boys, had been plagued with diet pills and frequent trips to the same websites. Soryu hadn’t touched her. Not in a while. It was her doing; he’d wanted to rest a hand on her thigh as they watched a new detective film, but she had flinched and muttered a half-hearted excuse to leave.
She knew Soryu thought nothing of it. The Ice Dragons kept him busy, and he’d relax with the other auction managers whenever he had some downtime.
“There it goes again” Erika chimed “On search for more food. The penthouse guests must get their kicks watching the piggy clean”
“Don’t listen to“ Chisato began. Her eyes dropping with her words as they watched the young maid smile whilst her body, flinching, made its way to the penthouse elevator. Mr Ichinomiya had requested her presence. The words that sunk their claws with each step could wait. Mr Ichinomiya needed her.
With her eyes closed she stepped into the overly polished space. She couldn’t tolerate looking at her reflection. A distorted clone would stare back at her; beads of sweat glistening under the spotlights and fabric suffocating her held together by flimsy black buttons.
Eisuke sat, as he always did, in the centre of the Spades Room. The other auctioneers, all but Soryu, gathered near them. Hesitantly she approached. Her hands held in front of her. Sharks swam ahead of her: beady dull eyes ravenous as she awaited her employers’ orders.
“You’re late…and sweating” He quipped. “Perhaps we should have Mr Kenzaki order you a larger more breathable uniform” she hoped as his words died against her ears, that Ichinomiya hadn’t meant the words or that her vicious mind wouldn’t fixate on the term ‘larger’. She’d gained a few pounds just as fast as she lost them. Ryosuke had been partially to blame. The boy had brought her a fruit tart as an attempt to correct an error he’d made one time, and the one time had turned into multiple times. She could barely remember the boy turning up without some form of confectionary.
“Eisuke, you should speak to a lady with more caution” Baba’s voice, always kind, chastised the man. “Can’t you see she’s crying”
She hadn’t noticed. When had the manager’s forms become so blurry that their colours began to merge? When had they started to cascade down her cheeks?
“If she can’t take honesty, she’s no better than swine”
“Eisuke!” Soryu’s voice seethed with anger. His frame shielded her as best it could, but he wasn’t broad enough to hide her completely. She focused on that; she obsessed, as he legs carried her further from the penthouse and in turn from the hotel, on what Soryu looked like with her by his side. She was an embarrassment to him.
--
The Tres Spades had become a mere speck in the distance by the time she had collapsed against a wall. The shadows of an alleyway had pulled her into its depths; blocked from the view of others she found the safety in the isolation. She couldn’t hear the mocking sounds of swine; all she could hear in the small sanctuary were her laboured breaths.
Her knees buckled beneath her; her frame falling to the floor in a heap as she began to cry harder. Part of her begged for Soryu to round the corner any second, his secure arms wrapping around her whilst he whispered the same sweet nothings he used to say in the dead of night. The sobbing swallowed all noise as she pressed fists into her eyes.
“Imagine how well the boss will treat us when we bring in the Ice Dragons’ girl” A slurred voice startled the woman. Her tear-stained face looking at the source of the voice. She hadn’t noticed the men.
Two gang members stood opposite her. One short and stout with a belly that struggled against his shirt, and the other comically tall with an oversized suit. The two hardly looked a threat, if hadn’t been for the bloodthirsty gaze with which they stared at her. Blood running cold she attempted to move further from the duo.
No-one around here knew her; she barely knew where she was. She couldn’t call for help. There’d be no Ice Dragon’s wandering on patrol in this neighbourhood. No Inui following Samejima. The two men pressed further forward; as she began to retreat into her mind. She wanted to apologise to Soryu; she wanted to hug the man as though he’d disappear if she released him.
She barely recognised the vague call of her name. Not as impending doom beckoned her. It was the gunshots that broke her free of her thoughts. One of the two men staggering as they fumbled with their own weapon, she followed the direction he pointed it. Scared eyes meeting the less then calm eyes of Soryu.
“Get away from her” He barked; he was there. Soryu had found her like he had so many times before. Soryu moves as quickly as he can, his bullets covering him as he grabs her. In a few seconds; she can see it in the way Soryu flicks his eyes briefly to the side of him, in a few seconds there will be reinforcements.
As soon as his jacket is in front her, she grabs for the material. Her face buried in the soothing scent that accompanies the man she loves. His unarmed hand holding her to him. Within in seconds she can hear the alley flooded with footsteps. She can hear the desolate cries of the two men as they attempt to retreat with their lives.
“I’m not sure what’s going on with you and believe me I want nothing more than to find out what’s torturing you. But right now, I need you to move.” Soryu pleads. Soryu places the gun in his hand on the cement beside him. With ease he lifts her, his gun abandoned for one of the dragons to collect as he walks out of the alley to an awfully parked car.
“Put me down, I’m heav-“ She stops herself, her eyes consumed by the deep crimson mixing with the cool grey of his jacket. She can see the frayed material. “You’re hurt, Soryu put me down you’ve been shot”
“No” He grumbles as he ducks into the vehicle. Inui clambers into the passenger seat, Samejima into the driver’s seat. Soryu sits her on his lap, his hands clamped tightly around her, and she can feel the blood oozing onto the material of her uniform.
“Soryu please. Let me go” She begs, fresh tears – not for herself but for him – falling down her cheeks.
“I can’t. No. I’m not letting you go again” He whispers; there’s a break in his voice. “I almost lost you, I haven’t got enough fingers to count how many times I’ve almost lost you. It’s my fault. I told Eisuke to call you to the penthouse before I got there. That crass bastard said something, that much I can gather.” A grimace shadows his features briefly as he places his forehead against her.
“You got hurt because of me if I hadn’t run out of there. If I hadn’t taken Eisuke’s words about my appearance to heart. You wouldn’t have been shot” She cries.
“Shh” He hushes her, one hand smoothing her hair. “I don’t mind these wounds as long as I got them protecting you. There’s only one person, no make that two people, you should be listening to about how you look. That’s you and me. You are every inch perfect in my eyes, regardless of how much you weigh or how much sweat you’re covered in.” He adds
Her lip’s part ready to protest but the argument dies on her lips as she looks into his eyes. There in the fleeting streetlights, she can see the silent plea for her to believe him, for her not to protest. In his soft features he begs for her to see herself how he sees her.
Author Note: So I played some Otome games randomly and one of them was Kissed By The Baddest Bidder. Interesting plots. Soryu was one of my favourites, so was Shuichi. Anyway, enjoy this maybe. A little suggestive at points. Also just straight uploaded not checked yet.
On any other day Soryu would’ve avoided the establishment; he despised the heavy stench of alcohol blended unevenly with a few of Mamaru’s cigarettes. He’d suffer once he returned to the sanctity of his room for the evening, he could already feel the scent clinging to the insides of his nose. Soryu would hold this against his friends for a while; even if neither of them had forced him to come. His body had moved of its own accord the second the young maid had shone a bright smile and asked if he was joining them.
The Ice Dragon had situated himself on the opposite side of the table from her, if it had been a possibility, he would have sat on a bar stool beside the bar. Instead, he suffered sat besides, what could only be called, the useless Detective. Perhaps Soryu had been to harsh in that thought, Kishi may be lazy but he’d helped Inui out of a spot of bother a few times. The Dragon couldn’t help the sparks of Envy that had lodged in his chest once again, albeit for a different reason, as he pondered on Kishi. No-one could blame Soryu, Mamoru held the second thing that Soryu could never have.
After a while the Auction Managers had dispersed, each going their separate ways as they bid farewell for the night. A few a little more than tipsy as they staggered by the many bar patrons. Baba had been the first to leave; a charismatic grin on his face as he promised to do this again before following a rather scantily clad woman out of the bar. Ota and Mamoru had been the next to go, a exasperated Detective wrapping an arm under Ota to support his drunken frame. With those three gone it had left Soryu with a nonchalant Eisuke and a close to tipsy maid. He should have left after Baba; it had been his intention to go but the young maid had started to speak to him and so effortlessly he had found himself lost as they conversed. They hadn’t even noticed when Eisuke had left; and that thought had made the blood in Soryu’s body run cold.
“What about those two?” Came a partially slurred voice, the syllables gently tore the man from his thoughts. His ever-observant gaze falling briefly to the woman. She’d stayed; the second they’d both realised Ichinomiya abandoned them she had chosen to stay and so had he. Soryu convinced himself that his presence was for Eisuke. He was staying to make sure she didn’t embarrass the man or cause any more trouble than she had since the Auction. It hadn’t been because Soryu had noticed the several less than sober men whose eyes lingered on her for a little too long when she went to order herself another drink, nor had it been because her presence beside him soothed his stress-riddled body.
Soryu lifted his gaze from his companion to gaze at the pair situated in a booth by the entrance. A rather thin salaryman with comedically thick rimmed glasses and a sort of awkwardness in his actions that rivalled a nerdy schoolboy sat across from another scantily clad woman. Her fingers danced around the rim of her glass as she watched the man with vague interest. Every so often she would lean further forward allowing the salaryman a clearer view of her cleavage.
“He’s a nerd and she’s an escort” Oh commented idly, he reached for his seventh whisky of the evening, relishing briefly as the liquid seeped down his throat. Normally he would stop at four and switch to a light beer but then again, he would never have been out drinking for this long unless he was making a deal. As he placed the, now, empty glass back on the table he reminded himself that he should’ve left before Eisuke.
“Soryu that’s not how you play the game” She chuckled a little as she finished the rest of her own drink. Her fingers danced around the rim of her own glass as she hugged it against her chest. At some point she had slithered into the seat beside him, and he could smell the lavender that swam through the air around her, offsetting any other smell from the establishment.
He’d frozen. His mind replaying the same word in her voice as though trying to retain how the syllables had rolled from her tongue in that innocent tipsy tone of hers. She’d never called him by his name before. It had always been ‘Mr. Oh’ or ‘Sir’. Never Soryu as much as he had craved it. He’d have told her if it hadn’t been for his pride. If he hadn’t wanted to save himself from being teased by Baba or Ota.
“You’re supposed to say something like. She’s asking him to buy her cat.” She whistled, another sip of her drink and Soryu caught the gaze of the bartender. In a brief flick of his wrist, the Bartender nodded. “But he’s allergic to cats, so she’s offering herself with the cat but he’s just waiting for the other members of his DnD club.” Soryu couldn’t help the soft chuckle that tore through his throat. “Do that again, I like that sound.”
Her drunken words meant nothing currently, yet it didn’t stop the warmth from dusting Soryu’s cheeks. The Ice Dragon caught the way she began to rock sideways, and he was certain that the room was spinning around her; so as the bartender set down a tray of coffee, Soryu placed his arm on the back of their seat, it was a precaution to keep her on the cushioned bench. He inched closer to her – just to make sure she had something to keep her propped up. Not because he wished she would fall towards him. Or so in that moment he could hold her.
“Ok, how about he’s a police officer in disguise, and she’s a widower. They matched on a dating app whilst he was trying to get closer to a drug ring. She guessed the code correctly and he wants to arrest her, and she just wants to get her rocks off. Two crossed wires.” Soryu smirked. Stifling her laughter, she placed hand in front of her mouth. She shifted in her seat, her leg brushing against his, an innocent action that had Soryu’s muscle tensing and his mind malfunctioning. The ever-composed Ice Dragon felt pathetic – she could reduce him to dust with just a smile and they hadn’t even known each other that long, not before the man had fallen for her soothing presence.
“Better…who next….?” She sighed, her head roaming the other patrons. Soryu lifted his coffee to his lips, the liquid lingering on his tastes buds as he revelled in the bitter drink. The second it hit the back of his throat he felt the caffeine kick in, doing its best to rid him of the alcohol coursing through his system. “Him” she practically beamed pointing to the bar.
For a second, he wondered if she meant the bartender, who stood cleaning an already immaculate wine glass, but then his gaze just skimmed a man hunched over his drink. He was younger than the other patrons, his dishevelled brown hair damp from what Soryu assumed was the rain outside. A hefty sigh masked the mumbles that came from the bartender, and for a second Soryu recalled a face in his mind’s eye. Especially when he caught sight of the glasses that sat beside the man’s drink, he paired them with the off brown three piece that adorned the man’s body and it suddenly occurred to him, just who he was looking at.
“That’s Shuichi’s and Eisuke’s love child. See the bartender doesn’t like him, clearly, he has the aura to get on everyone’s nerves just from his presence alone, probably from Eisuke, but arguable from Shuichi too. Then there’s the hair, the poor eyesight, and that sigh.” Soryu announced.
The room fell silent before hysterical laughter rang out. Soryu almost jumped at the sound as it resonated in his ears. She wrapped her arms around her body as she struggled to compose herself or even breathe. A grin spread through Soryu’s features, as they ignored the quizzical looks from the other customers. Even from the love child whose scowl imitated Shuichi so well that the woman’s laughter doubled.
“I bet…” She paused, inhaling deeply, “I bet he’s sad because his dads are fighting so he left after coming all the way to Japan to see them. Maybe he went to Dubai first to look for Shuichi but when he found out that he came to Japan he followed. Poor guy. Don’t worry sir, your dads will stop fighting soon” She shouted the last of her sentence. Soryu hushed her, sending the man an apologetic smile.
“Here. Have some coffee” He uttered. The mug remained untouched, her body lifting from their shared seat. She stumbled towards the bar, hands gripping the wooden surface tight as she ordered another drink. The bartender, whose eyes flew between her and Soryu, nodded before handing her a glass of what Soryu knew would be water. The mafia boss had slipped some money to the bartender when he had delivered his coffee, a silent look passed between the two men in a wordless contract to cut her off.
Soryu had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the pair of legs now stood in front of his coffee. He lifted his gaze carefully, cautious not to linger on any places he shouldn’t. She grinned down at him, rocking on her feet to keep herself steady.
“Look Sor, I’m taller than you now” She giggled. The nickname held an effect on him that he was too ashamed to admit to. The Mafia boss stood his hand hovering in the air before he turned around.
“Get on, it’s time we left” He announced; he bent slightly at the knees whilst he waited. She took a moment to understand what he meant, her body all but jumping onto his back. She hung her arms around his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. Neither of them missed the way her body shivered the second he placed his hands under her thighs, or the way his body seemed to relax further.
To any outside observers they looked like a couple, a boyfriend who had come to collect his drunk girlfriend carrying her back to their room. Especially with the way she grinned, every so often blowing on the shell of his ear. The action would have Soryu jolting slightly, his fingers squeezing her thighs in a false warning. The Ice Dragon Leader wore a softened expression, a small smile gracing his usually frowning features.
“We should tell Mr Ichinomiya and Mr Hishikura to kiss and make up so their son can have his family back. He looked so sad; I wonder what Mr Ichinomiya did.” She mumbled, her voice seemed quieter now and she slurred her words a little less. A soft rumble in Soryu’s chest alerted them both to just how entertaining the idea of waking Eisuke up to tell him his fake son was waiting for him was.
“Maybe not tonight. I don’t think Eisuke will be too impressed” Soryu laughed. The woman fell silent even as she continued to blow on Soryu’s ear or tap her fingers against Soryu’s chest. What he had failed to notice in her silence was her reaction to his laugh. He’d only chuckled earlier, and yet the soft exhale that could barely be called laughter had the maid craving for more. “Ok, I need to put you down now” He added as they stepped inside the Penthouse elevator.
She didn’t move to release him, in fact she tightened her hold on the man, her legs wrapped tighter around his waist as she buried her head into the crook of his neck. He could feel the pout she wore, especially as her lips skimmed the skin on his neck. He moved his head away from her, a small shudder running through his body as he gazed at her through his peripheral.
“The elevator card is in my pocket; I can’t reach with you on my back.” He informed her; she continued to pout, shaking her head a little. A mischievous spark in her eyes startled Soryu as he felt her press further against his back, her fingers running down her chest towards his jacket pocket. His eyes closed struggling to maintain his composure until he felt the soft prick on his check. He peeked through a crack in his eyelid to see the familiar white key card.
“Here you go” She beamed, “Now onwards Sor.”
Mentally he was scolding himself, he should’ve told her – forced her to get off him. Anyone else and he would’ve. He’d done it many times in the past, each with a different drunk woman who would remember little of Soryu’s kindness and forever wind up hating him for his harshness the next morning. He should’ve left when Baba left.
He stood there, in the middle of the penthouse longue, unsure of where to put her. He couldn’t walk up the stairs and dump her on Eisuke. Not with his ill-temper when he gets disturbed. Nor could he leave her on the couch, not with the wandering hands of both Baba and Ota. He couldn’t think, not with her head resting in the crook of his neck, her breath gliding across his skin eliciting goosebumps in its wake. He shook his head as he headed towards his own suite. She’d stay in the spare bed tonight, if Eisuke hadn’t removed it already. Soryu would leave her there and make his way to his condo for the rest of the night. By the time he reached it, he’d have just enough time to shower and go to the Ice Dragon’s headquarter.
This wasn’t her first time in his suite, and much to his dismay he hoped it wouldn’t be the last. She’d cleaned the room many times before, but this was the first time that he willingly brought her to the room. The first time he had placed her on the bed. He was a statue by the bed; watching as she hid her face with her hands. Her clothing hung dishevelled on her body, her skirt rising just high enough to have Soryu’s mind wondering. He’d imagined her many times in his bed, and he wished he could say those thoughts had remained in the dead of night at his condo, but often he found himself fantasizing during his meetings with Eisuke. The Ice Dragon Leader would catch her cleaning in her maid uniform – hardly the most scandalous outfit but enough to have his blood racing and his eyes glossing over.
“Do you need anything? Water?” He frowned at himself. He knew the answer already and with that knowledge he’d bring her some water before he left. In the morning he’d send Inui over with some pain medication and perhaps some breakfast to keep her hangover at bay. With that settled he turned to leave. Just as quickly as he had moved, he felt a significantly smaller hand pull at his. His eyes drifting to the fingers that wrapped around his wrist as he let himself be pulled down.
“Don’t go” She paused; her words sounding panicked. “Not just yet” She continued. The simple sentence attacked what little self-control Soryu had left. It’s when his head hits the pillow that the alarm bells ring. A harsh reminder of just how bad things could turn out. At that point he should’ve stopped, told her she was drunk and left immediately. He should have. Yet he remained there, his body turning to lay on his side. Neither spoke, for a while, at least not with words. Soryu’s usually calm eyes roamed every corner of her face, a silent plea. He drank her in as though this would be the last time, he’d see her. Which should Eisuke find them was a very real possibility.
“Hold on” She whispers, breath warm against his face. She reaches out to him. Two fingers gently running over the skin of his forehead as they push back a stray hair. “There much better” She adds. Her hand remained there, it pulls him closer to her and he doesn’t stop the way his body shuffles closer on the bed. He can feel her rubbing her fingers against the skin of his temple. Soryu can feel her breath on his lips, and that on its own is enough to send his heart racing, he can smell the alcohol and the heavenly scent of Lavender. A scent he would forever associate with her, with this. It’s a smell subtle enough not to irritate him. Her fingers run over his hair, and he can’t help the shiver that escapes him. Nor can he stop his eyes from closing as he revels in the sensation. She eats at his control, and he can feel it slipping. He should be scared by just how easily she made him weak, but he’s not.
“I should go,” He mutters, he doesn’t mean these words anymore, “and you should get some rest before we do anything we’ll regret”. He doesn’t move, any conviction in his body went the second her fingers fell from his hair to the nape of his neck. She doesn’t force him to move, its written in her eyes how she feels, especially when he places his hand on her thigh. His fingers rubbing slow circles into her skin.
It’s innocent. The soft caress of her lips on his. She made the first move, he’s painfully aware of that fact but he kisses back regardless. His mind savouring the way her lips move against his, its everything he imagined it to be. The innocence depleting quickly as his mind races with the countless scenarios he imagined in his early morning showers. Her lips tempt him just as much as he tempts her. His hands pulling her body flush against him. Both ignoring the burning sensation in their lungs demanding them to breathe. His hand resting on her thigh rises higher; high enough to feel the material of her underwear.
Her own hands move to his shoulders desperate to rid him of his jacket. It doesn’t take long for the material to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. His lips travel from hers to skin of her jaw, he leaves wet kisses as he turns his attention to her neck. In turn she moves her attention to the buttons of his shirt. He can feel the air stabbing against his overheating chest and the sensation knocks his brain into gear. He’s quick to hear the alarm bells, quicker to release her neck from his torment.
In an instant they both stop, her hands caught in one of his hands whilst his other remains still on her thigh. He inhales attempting to muster some control as he pulls himself off the bed.
“I’m sorry, I can’t” his words end in a pitiful chuckle; aimed at himself. In a reckless moment he had ruined what little closeness they could have. She wasn’t his to hold, to kiss or to touch. She wasn’t his as much as he wished she was. “I better say goodnight before I change my mind” He utters. He casts one last look at her, face red and dishevelled.
The second the door closed behind him; he fell against it. He hadn’t bothered to grab his jacket, nor had he bothered to rebutton his dishevelled shirt. Soryu lifts his fingers to his lips, he can still feel her lips against his, still feel the lingering warmth on his body. He was changing his mind the second he fished for his phone in his pocket. If Inui didn’t answer he’d go back in, deal with the fallout tomorrow.
“Was it everything you’d hope it’d be?” Eisuke’s voice filled the silence. The tight-lipped syllables turned Soryu’s blood to ice. “I do hope it was worth touching what belongs to me. I can see you enjoyed it and this once I’m willing to overlook it for an old friend.” He added.
Author Note: I haven't reread through this, so expect errors, I've just had the same several paragraphs in my drafts for months and really needed to finish this, because damn the concept was too good for me. Also I'm so glad someone made this gif because it fits super good for a specific moment in the fic below. Fruniscor
It was silly. It really was but she’d let a voice crow in their ear, and it had planted a charming seed of doubt. They’d passed each other by chance in a city of hundreds; a gentle yet firm grip had pulled her from the street matched with provocative eyes. The world stopped breathing in time with the Trancy Maid; all noise fell silent until the butler chuckled. As soon as Sebastian whispered his questions a shadow latched onto her young heart. He’d released the maid shortly after with a promise to see her again. A promise she had no intention of allowing him to keep.
This came as no surprise to either party, that along with the stagnant smell of the city street came the lingering stench of the Phantomhive butler. A foul smell that had been commented on a dozen times and would continue to be at the top of conversation. Claude had remained silent since she had returned home. His face contorted in displeasure – or could she see a hint of disgust hidden behind his liquid gold eyes.
“He should never have touched you, and for that I must apologise” Claude sighed. The demon was not the one to say sorry, but then he wasn’t one to let this happen in the first place. He could feel his irritation itching beneath his skin as he continued to inhale the fetor of the other demon. “However, before we go about any other business, you need to wash. I can’t stand that malodour.”
Claude’s fingers wrapped around her wrist felt drastically different to how Sebastian’s had felt earlier. His fingers held tight, almost painfully, as though he was worried, she would slip from his grasp and disappear. The Trancy Butler was all too aware of her pain threshold, and he always balanced on the precipitous edge. He wanted to let them know that he was still a demon. That he could still break them into unmendable pieces. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t mean any harm by it; but she had this way of looking at him like he was almost human.
It hadn’t taken him long to draw a bath; nor had it taken long for her to disrobe and allow the steaming water to consume every inch of her body. Claude remained there, crouching beside the metal tub, his fingers idly skimming the surface of the water. Every so often he let his finger dive beneath the surface for a few beats before removing it. Both of them sat inhaling the soft scent of lavender.
In these moments, with just the two of them, the maid saw the serenity he was capable of. She found herself unable to remember the very simple fact that he was supernatural. She watched him turn slowly from a stone wall incapable of even faking an emotion, to this. A demon with a content smile drawn on his features and his eyes gliding over the ripples in the water as though he’d never seen it happen before.
Sebastian’s inquiry fought to the forefront of her mind. His sultry words squeezing at her heart. A jolt shot through her body; it caused the Demon to draw his focus to the maid. His eyes narrowed in confusion.
“Sebastian asked me a question earlier. A series of them, most pointless but one in particular.” The maid began, any confidence within her dissipated the instant Claude shifted closer to the bath. His fingers retreating from the water and resting on the metal. She hoped she would get the answer she imagined on her way back to the Manor. “He asked me why you kept me around, he said the other servants were demons and that with those four and yourself, there was really no need for-“
A guttural growl fell from Claude’s lips, his eyes darkening in rage as he gripped the metal tighter. The Trancy butler would’ve, in this second, liked nothing more than to destroy Sebastian. A task that he deemed easy considering the demon hadn’t fed in a few years. Yet, when Claude looked towards the shivering maid, who had so cleverly and without knowing stolen his thoughts, the tension within him dissipated.
“Claude?” She whispered, a damp hand settling above his own. Faustus winced; his eyes falling onto where they had joined. She’d touched him before. The maid had caressed his cheek one evening whilst he pretended to be asleep, in a poor attempt to keep the fact that he was a demon from her. He’d felt the soft callouses of her fingers on his skin for several days, and in the dead of night he imagined what it would feel like should she caress other parts of him. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
It took a while for Claude to register her words; he was too busy discerning the loss of her warmth. Once it had settled in his brain the butler had all but fell backwards, his legs crouched by the side of the tub buckled as he lost his composure. Her touch hadn’t caused him pain, it had startled him, the feel of her flesh on his own had drawn him into the fantasies that lurked in the darkest parts of his mind, reserved for painfully long evenings.
“You didn’t harm me,” He uttered. Claude’s voice almost sounded foreign to himself. He hadn’t spoken for a while and the sudden crack as he returned to his position by the tub. His knees firmly planted on the concrete floor. Quietly she watched him, his eyes doing their best to avoid hers, should she see the hunger prowling. Claude dipped his finger into lukewarm water. “You should get out soon, I’d hate to have you sick, think of the additional work.” He commented. He was trying to hide behind his cruelty, like the coward he hated to be.
“Yes sir, sorry” She apologised, her voice cracking slightly. She was still picturing Michaelis’ words, she was reminding herself she held no real value to the Trancy Household and in that reminder, she had begun to thread the words into her subconscious. She was a mere plaything. An example for the servants on how a human servant act, and once they were bored of this charade, they’d dispose of her.
Claude watched her; he could practically see the thoughts weighing down on her. The heart, which should never have existed, within his chest tore a little. He missed her smile. The one that he’d receive at the crack of dawn as she wiped away the sleep from her eyes, and the same one that he had been allowed to see as the same sleep from the morning fought for control of her body. Every night she’d go out of her way to say goodnight to him; she’d even stood outside their master’s room and waited for Claude to leave before she gave her sleepy grin and whispered goodnight. A few times he’d carried her to her room; her head against his chest. On those occasions he’d find his demonic nature softening as he tucked her into her rickety old bed, his gloved fingers placing stray hair behind her ear before – in an uncharacteristic moment – he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Unable to help himself and as he moved back, he would find that smile on her features.
“You shouldn’t listen to demons” He announced; at this point Claude had fully submerged his hand. The limb sat limp for a moment in the water. “We’re notorious liars, thieves, scoundrels and we say whatever we can to plant those seeds of doubt in unsuspecting innocent humans. I’ve done in a thousand times before, in order to tempt someone else’s meal to move towards me.” He continued.
“Someone else’s meal…” she breathed. Claude frowned at his own reckless explanation. The woman before him was nothing like food to him. Her soul held no nutritional value to him; it would never hold that meaning to him.
“My apologies, that was not what I meant” Claude admitted. “That uncouth demon chose you to tempt because it would cause trouble for me.”
“Trouble…how?” She questioned. Claude growled in frustration. This was the first time in a long time that he had ever struggled with his words. Inhaling deeply the demon reached for her hand beneath the water, his fingers brushed against hers briefly as he settled his mind and focused on what he was going to say next.
“This isn’t working” Claude huffed, his fingers – that had settled beside her – wrapped around her wrist like they had done earlier. A small tug as her body fell towards his, his eyes searching her features as he placed his other hand beneath her chin. “What I’m trying to get across to you is this”
She felt his breath across her lips as he hesitated briefly. It was just the shortest of moments as he questioned his resolve once again before his lips found hers. The hand around her wrist releasing her. He gave her the option to move away from him as their lips moved with each other. He let her have the time to regain control of her logical thoughts; and yet it had been her to place her hands on his first. Her hand rested behind his neck whilst the other found his shirt as their breaths mingled.
The room felt a few degrees warmer to her once they had separated. Her hands still firmly rooted against him.
“In short, I keep you here because beside me is where I need you, you hold more value to me than the others, if anything the other four could be replaced in an instant but you, I could scour the world for centuries and never find a replacement for.” Claude uttered. “You make me feel things that should be impossible and that both scares me and excites me”
Author Note: Oh boy, I have so many fic ideas for Victor and Lucien from MLQC but I'm not super far in the game and I've spoiled a few things for myself but man why does it have such an engrossing plot. Anyway here's a little word vomit of hopefully coherent thoughts.
Beads of sweat covered her forehead as she stood in the embarrassingly vacant courtyard; her companion watched her with a foreign coldness in his gaze. Never had the man before her, her friend, looked at her with anything other than a reflection of the same admiration she held for him. Yet here they both stood in the suffocating heat. They had for the first time become opposites of each other completely, his stance portrayed that of a regimental killer, calm and reserved. Whereas she stood a complete and utter mess on the verge of a breakdown. Tears pricked at her eyes just as the sun pricked at her skin.
To outside observers they looked like lovers going through an argument; one that casted her as the desperate villain clinging to the words the hero, or perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe as difficult to stomach as she found it, he was the villain. The tension between them had become suffocatingly thick, borderline glue like as they waited for the other to say something. Though she looked like she would falter at any moment she refused to break. She wanted to know that every word he had said to her, to distance himself, he meant. The harsh cut on the ends of his syllables turned his words to knives.
It was his reserved nature that had him distancing himself, each time they occupied the same space he ended up mentally sparring with himself. His field of dull greys and omniscient whites disturbed by the all too mesmerising vibrant wreck in front of him had made his job harder by the second. He’d finally found what he’d been searching for, and the flood of colours had erased years of mental barriers.
As quickly as he had spoken, Lucien walked away. It had been his way to spare himself any further despair and though she couldn’t see it, what he had said had hurt him double. He watched as the smile he adored had shifted into a trembling one, as she struggled to regain composure. The way her brows knitted together as he stepped away from her; her hands lingering at her sides.
Lucien was aware – the very second, they’d met – of what he wanted. He knew he could never have it, not what he really wants- needs. He isn’t like the others; his love can’t last forever. He can’t grow old with her; he can’t even see the beauty of the world around him. So, what would one more heartbreak be for dear old Lucien Xu? That’s what he had told himself.
He’d made it as far as his office door before he noticed her following him. Through his peripheral vision he could see a sheepish smile adorning her features. The same sheepish smile that he had once seen attached to her when she turned up unannounced to his office one evening and then again when she nursed him back to health.
“You walk too fast” She jested; her arms swinging slightly as she exaggerated her breathing. Lucien sighed; he took in her overheated face; sweat pooling beneath her eyes and along her hairline. He’d made up his mind after his body had moved aside for her. He opened his office door to her and let her proceed. “Some of us don’t have the height advantage of a small tree” She continued.
Lucien’s mouth twitched; he was struggling to remain cold. Her body collapsed against his desk, fingers drumming against the wood as she attempted, poorly, to capture her breath. Steady hands reached for a bottle water before flinging it to the young girl; her eyes watching as he leant beside her on the desk.
“You followed me,” Lucien mused, even after everything he said. He’d broken their bond or at least he’d attempted it. She should hate him; she should’ve left and ran to one of the others. They’d have treated her better, they would still treat her better. Even the stoic CEO who had in the past done nothing but sling insults towards the girl would comfort her. “I’ll never understand you” He continued.
“Lucien, I don’t believe you meant what you said” Her answer shot a chill through his body. Of course, he didn’t mean it – not truly. He could never honestly tell her she was unimportant, that she clung to him too much or that her consistent conversations had bored him to the point that he hated her.
Lucien meant the opposite. He savoured the way her hands would wrap around his arm whenever she wanted to show saw something in a shop window, or the way her body would slump against his late at night. He never wanted her to stop speaking to him. No combination of words or equations could show how important she was to him.
“You should leave, I have lectures to prepare and you won’t see me for a while but I’ll keep working when I can to help you with the sho-“Lucien began as he lifted himself from his desk. He didn’t look at her; it would only make this more difficult. Once she had left he could bury himself in his other work, he could disappear for a while and compose himself again.
“You didn’t let me finish. You left before I could say anything.” She paused; she drank some water as though it would give her the strength to say what she wanted to. “I chose you”
Silence bit at his ear in between her harsh breathes. For a moment Lucien forgot to breath. His lungs craving oxygen as he felt the burn in his chest. The idea that a ‘but’ followed her sentences sprung to the forefront of Lucien’s mind. No-one would choose him – at least not after they discovered the real him. Not the Professor. Not Ares. No, his true self had mutated a long time ago leaving only an amalgamation of the two personalities. A cold killer and a colourless Professor.
Lucien adjusts his stance; he kept his back to her. It hadn’t been to hide his features or to keep her from noticing the way his face expressed the remorse he felt currently mixed with the joy of hearing those three little words. Lucien’s mind threw him back to ten minutes before he’d walked off.
They’d stood beside each other as she rambled about her day. Her eyes lighting up as she spoke about her lunch with Kiro and her meetings with Victor. She laughed as she pictured the older CEO struggling to eat the junk food, she’d brought for him after her lunch. Lucien had shared a chuckle with her before she’d made a passing comment about the two of them being a couple. Herself and Lucien. Arm in arm as they crossed the courtyard.
That comment had spurred an internal debate within him; the morals he had once abandoned sprung out at him from wherever they had been buried. He’d battled before with his emotions. Late one evening, he’d called her haphazardly. She’d beamed as she spoke with him, her voice lulling the anxiety within his chest. He’d break her heart when she found out, when she eventually realised how ruthless he could be.
“In a thousand lifetimes, I would find you, Lucien Xu” She whispered; he tensed the second he felt her arms wrap around his torso, her head resting against his back. “I’d choose you, so please. I beg you don’t push me away”
“Even if I became a villain. Even if it were safer for you, you’d still choose me” Lucien uttered. She didn’t answer instead she tightened her arms, her head nodding against his back. A pained smile crossed Lucien’s face, as he placed his hands atop hers. His eyes closing, the small gesture had been a punch to the face. Unfamiliar emotions, that he had once thought himself incapable of, had been stoked by her words.
Author Note: This is a pile of Word Vomit, I watched Balance Unlimited and man I adored it. Especially this Salty Winter Adult. None of the below makes coherent sense but hey, life's too short to leave things unread by others.
Everyone who had ever visited the Kambe residence to speak to the heir knew about the painting. Often enough they found themselves stood beside the young man whose eyes focused only on the putrid baby blues that encircles a deep red misshapen figure. Many, in hushed whispers, had commented on how out of place the canvas seemed amongst the elegant wooden décor of the home.
It hung just outside his bedroom in a hallway trodden by very few. He, himself, had placed a chair opposite it for when he found himself unable to sleep. He’d sit there staring at the figure until he succumbed to sleep. Suzue would find him the next morning, curled against the chair, his head leaning on the crook of his arm. She’d suggested once that he move the canvas to his bedroom, only to be thrown a grim look and a sarcastic comment. It kept the nightmares at bay.
Kambe couldn’t blame her; it’s what any normal person would do. He couldn’t. He despised the painting. Everyone did, including his grandmother. The woman refused to enter the hallway, not until the painting disappeared. She’d even so much as asked their faithful servant to dispose of it whilst Kambe was busy – his attempt had failed thanks to Suzue. Perhaps one of the only people within Daisuke’s household that understood the importance hidden within the canvas.
His grandmother held no harmful intent; she just wanted to purge that period from Daisuke’s life. The man had suffered so much at a young age. There had been times where she would plead at the dinner table with the young detective. Her words reaching deaf ears as he chewed on his noodles. When her words hit too close to home, he quips a witty retort paired with a sarcastic growl. In those moments she could see his mother.
The painting held no real value. It was common knowledge. Suzue and his grandmother would have said something about it had it not been for the glint in Kambe’s usually dull eyes. A spark of fight and something none of them have ever seen before as he runs his gaze over every streak of paint. That very spark prevents them to speaking and instead they leave the man be.
A sigh relieves itself from Daisuke as he stands from his seat; he took a few strides forward his eyes never once leaving the soft brush strokes that had dried against the material. Kambe rubbed the sleep from his vision as he reminisced. He could still feel the fingers that wrapped around his upper arm and pulled him through the corridors of his home. The sound of overexcited laughter echoed in the aged wood wrapped around his heart squeezing at vary degrees of strength.
‘These cases just get more complicated, I thought it would be easier than this but every time I think I’m making progress something stops me’ Daisuke’s voice contrasted with the oozing silence surrounding him. ‘You’d know exactly what to do if you were here. I can picture it now-‘
‘Kambe’ Haru barked; the sudden appearance of his partner startled Daisuke. This had been expected, at some point Haru would turn up back here. An unjust anger in tow as he marched down the corridor. The embassy case had been closed, but Haru had come under fire for the death of a suspect, Daisuke had done nothing to help the older man. It hadn’t just been due to the fact he was off duty; he’d chosen to remain quiet.
Kambe’s eye twitched, his focus returning to the painting. If he remained quiet, let Haru vent, perhaps the detective inspector would leave. He’d be able to return to the serenity that had been his thoughts. If his friend had been here, they’d have persuaded Haru to calm down, they’d have laughed and shared some food at the expense of Kambe. They always handled people better than he did.
‘Hey, are you listening?’ Haru practically screamed as he stepped closer to Kambe; Daisuke remained firm. There was nothing he needed to speak to Kato about. He was handling this – whatever the bigger picture is. He’d handle it alone; it was safer that way. The fewer people around, the easier it would be. ‘Damn Rich kid, pay attention to people when they speak to you’
He didn’t need to see what was happening, he felt it. Haru’s balling around the material of his shirt in an aggressive attempt to grab Daisuke’s attention. Briefly – very briefly – Daisuke’s eyes flicked to look at Haru. In that second the world froze, Daisuke’s emotionless eyes, often filled with amusement, turned to Haru. As if Haru’s arms moved on their own he dropped Daisuke, his hands falling at his side.
‘I have nothing I wish to discuss, you should leave’ Daisuke commanded. The very sound of his voice knocked the older man from his shock, a guttural growl resonating in the air as he flung his arm back.
Everything slowed in that minute; Kato’s limbs swam leisurely through the air as Daisuke’s gaze flicked back to his partner. It hadn’t fully registered in Kambe’s mind as he watched helplessly. They both knew it hadn’t been Kato’s intention; he hadn’t registered how close he was to the wall.
It was an accident. It was an accident. A voice in Daisuke’s subconscious spoke the same four words like a mantra as he seethed. In an apoplectic haze he grabbed his senior. Kato’s body unbalanced fell against the air, unable to steady himself to fight back he let himself be thrown into the opposite wall. His head colliding with the wooden windowsill.
‘You weren’t invited here Detective Inspector Kato. You’re trespassing, I suggest you leave’ Daisuke growled; both heard the sharp inhale of Suzue as she rushed through the door at the end of the corridor. Her gaze observing the two men, her family who stood towering over Haru with fists balled at his side – his attention solely on the man and Haru who lifted himself against the wall, it was clear as he staggered slightly that the impact had made him dizzy.
‘Daisuke’ She uttered, Kambe clenched his jaw inhaling deeply as he turned around. The canvas hung at an angle; the material had been punctured. For the smallest second, he chastised his friend’s choice in canvas material.
‘It’s just a painting. Buy a new one. A rich kid like you always flaunting your wealth. Surely you can buy another one.’ Haru whistled. Kambe didn’t need to look to picture the Suzue’s reaction. A pleading expression plastered across her face as she moved closer to help Haru.
A rich kid like you. Daisuke finds himself repeating the short phrase. It had been said to Kambe before – plenty of times before and yet this time it struck him worse. For once he couldn’t throw money at the canvas. The damage had been done; money couldn’t solve his problem the way it could on a case. A soft chuckle rang through the air. Daisuke placed his head in his hands as he fell to his knees.
‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand,’ He admits, ‘I didn’t buy that canvas, it was a gift. One given to me by someone very dear to me. I guess you say it had no monetary value. It held some precious memories’ He continued.
‘You asked me how much I care about you, well…tah dah’ her voice bounced off the walls and rang through his ears. He relished in the happy tones as she released his arm. A quizzical look filled the man’s expression as he took in her appearance. Paint plastered across her skin, hair dishevelled and caked in the same colours that covered most of her clothing.
Once he’d had his fill, he followed her gaze, eyes widening as he took in the newest decoration. In place of his landscape portrait hung a horrendous mixture of colours and in the centre stood a deep burgundy figure and for a second, he hoped she hadn’t drawn a reflection of himself
‘Well?’ She questioned.
‘It’s awful, breathtakingly awful. I’d go as far as to say gut-wrenching,’ Daisuke commented. He listened to her as she roared with laughter, her hands holding her sides as she doubled over.
‘That’s exactly it. I care about you so much that its gut wrenching. Every moment I spend with you takes my breathe away in the most horrendously beautiful way.’ She announced, as she calmed her laughter she reached for his arm, her head falling against his shoulder as they both observed the horrendous decoration. ‘Plus, every home needs at least one ugly piece of furniture, something that just absorbs the good memories and no matter how long you look at it, no matter how much you hate it, it’ll remind you of the good things, it’ll remind you how much I love you, Daisuke Kambe’
Daisuke’s fingers wrapped around hers as he remained silent. Just the two of them watching the painting as though it were some priceless portraits in a museum.
‘You never know how important something is until it becomes a memory’ Kambe uttered.
‘Kambe,’ Haru’s voice shook Daisuke from his memories. His hands falling to his lap as he listened.
Author Note: I started to play MLQC as well as Obey Me and I have to say to anyone who may read this and have played MLQC Lucien and Victor are absolute gems, my favourites. I'm aware I have some form of problem in my taste in favourites but also here's a side note apology for what you're about to read. Have fun, also trigger warning for cheating. I don't like cheating I'm just broadening my writing experience.
A heavy stench filled the room, a lingering mixture of lust and frustration, that dampened the bed sheets and dribbled down the walls. The very same walls that had played witness to the mistake of the previous night, when two bodies danced with each other in a flurry of blinding crimson.
The soft glow from the lamp on the desk did little to console the conscious human; the demon sleeping peacefully - one arm looped over the human’s stomach - wouldn’t feel the same empty nausea that chewed on their gut. Demons don’t regret these things...no. That was wrong. The eldest brother had felt the painful sting of remorse before, even Beel had his own battle with Survivor’s guilt. The bile rose in their throat as they scolded themselves. This had nothing to do with Beel’s guilt, this was their mistake.
At some point, the human remembered that their breaths had fallen into rhythm with each other and at that point they had abandoned all sanity. They had ignored the scratching in the back of their brain that reminded them of the overly loving attentive partner that would at some point be wondering if they would see the face of their lover that evening.
The human’s eyes flitted across the room before landing on the two empty bottles of Demonus and some expensive human world wine. The three bottles paired with discarded glasses. The alcohol explained the disjointed memory of the previous night. It filled the blanks and took a heavy part of the blame with it. They shouldn’t drink. It was a rule they had and yet they had failed to stick by it.
Vivid red appeared before them as they blinked through the fractured argument rolling through their mind. A bottle of Demonus down and three glasses of wine sitting uneasy in their stomach they’d had a dispute about wasting time and keeping secrets. Those pathetic secrets that had fallen from the tight lipped tipsy demon had landed them in a bout of frantically waving arms and raised voices - It was a surprise to both parties that the two hadn’t woken any other member of the house - and those weak-willed hidden truths that had finally come to a climax as they stood too close to each other searing with both rage and unbridled tension.
Slowly shifting from their position, they attempted to leave. The soft silk sheets protecting their fractured modesty slipping from their skin. If their family could see them now; how disappointed would they look. A few minutes was all they needed, a few more silent minutes of the demon sleeping, as they hurried to dress and slither out of the bedroom unnoticed. If they were lucky, they could forget the night existed, the exchange would end soon and they could forget the Devildom.
Yet, to forget the Devildom would be to forget the happiest memories of their life. The brothers. The demon prince, his charming butler, the two angels and the shady wizard who had all climbed into their brain and refused to leave. The feeling of belonging would have to leave due to one tainted evening. All friendships would cease to exist, swallowed by the fissures of time, along with the intimate relationship they had hoped to maintain. A sharp sting to their chest reminded them of their partner. His happy smile and the small creases at the corners of his eyes as he laughed along to whatever stupid story they told him. The gentle fingers that would rub their arm or wrap around their hand in a sign of comfort.
‘I hope you weren’t going to leave without your tie’ Came the groggy grumble. Frozen in place they waited for the demon to speak once again. They listened to the low creak of the bed frame as he moved position. The dainty material fell over their shoulder before they could even register where he now stood.
‘Thank you’ The human responded; it was all they could say. The vomit rose once more at the alluring smell of coffee and ink weaselling its way into the air around them. A sharp flurry of images bounced around their mind as they pictured their fingers desperately tugging at his tie before throwing the offensive material beside their own. They could still feel the lingering electricity that ran across their neck accompanied with the demon’s breath. ‘This was never supposed to happen’
A soft chuckle tore through the air. At the sound they spun around, eyes watching the taller demon - who carefully pulled his shirt from the ground and proceeded to cover the scratches that littered his back and shoulders. When he looked at the human his crimson eyes were aflame with amusement and something else they couldn’t quite place.
‘You regret it?’ He inquired, fingers making quick work in buttoning his shirt. They couldn’t form the words; not with that tone in his voice. Not with the strange playful way his syllables flew through the barren room, accompanied only by the scratching of his record player. The vinyl had ended long ago, and not that the lack of music had bothered the two of them much. ‘You let it happen, as did I’ He smirked. That damned smirk had caused this mess, they were certain. Vaguely they remembered barking a comment about wiping the smirk from his lips. A move the little human would never have done, had they not been supplied the courage that came with the wine.
‘I was drunk. We were drunk-’ They faltered.
‘No, we were tipsy at most. If you remember we made some coffee’ Lucifer remarked, he nodded to the two discarded coffee mugs. ‘You made a passing comment about it being too bitter, and then I informed you about the meaning of bitter hell coffee. We argued, one thing led to more than another.’ The more he spoke, the more the snippets of the night formed in their mind and the more resigned they became.
‘I’m in a committed relatio-’ They whispered, body trembling as their knees buckled beneath them. The world started to swallow them as the eldest brother watched. The amusement in his eyes swiftly turned to guilt. Cautiously, he approached the human, his fingers hoovering at their shoulder.
‘I can help you forget it, erase the memories of last night, make them little more than a weird dream.’ He uttered. He watched as they nodded, their eyes refusing to meet the eldest and Lucifer remained silently thankful for that.
The subtle sound of dishes clinking as they were placed on the counter rattled against Arima’s ear as he waited for the voice to speak once more. The Investigator had been stood in the thicket of bushes and debris for a little more than an hour before the phone had vibrated against his leg. It hadn’t been out of reluctance that the man had answered the call; no, he had been welcoming this distraction since this morning and even more so with the current company that sat near him.
“My mom rang again; she’s waiting for your response to whatever the hell she asked you. She kept quiet on what it was. I hope it’s not a surprise for me. We all know how the last one turned out” The voice lulled Arima into a sense of peace, his shoulders sinking as he relaxed into the call. He recalled the memory fondly, he could still feel the sharp sting of the blade in his shoulder, and the frantic screams of their apology.
“it’s not as likely to scare you as the last one” He remarked. Arima allowed himself the soft smile that ghosted over his lips. He allowed the company across from him to see this moment of vulnerability. Something that had caused the creature before him to giggle quietly at. He’d remind her that the human talking to him was off limits for all. Even after their plans they were putting into motion ended.
“Let’s face it how would you react if someone was just stood in the darkness in your living room.” They defended themselves, not that they needed the justification. If anything, it told Arima that they could handle themselves, should anything happen to him. When something happens to him – the man shifted the weight between his legs, his empty fingers fiddling with the cuff of his jacket.
“The impressive part was how you managed to get the knife in the first place. Your kitchen was behind me the whole time.” Arima chuckled. He noted the crack of the leaves behind him, and the way his guest had entered his blind spot. His vision could no longer see her, but he could still hear her, and she’d be foolish to fall back on their agreement. “However, I don’t think you called me to reminisce on the time you stabbed me or to tell me about your mother”
He listened to the brief curse that fell from their lips, it hadn’t been until now that he heard the sizzling in the background. Kishou could only assume that they were cooking; his eyes lifting to the sky briefly as he took note of the darkness. Time had flown too quickly in his opinion, only a few minutes ago the sun was still beating down on him and now it had sunk below the tree line.
“No, I wanted to know if you were coming home for dinner, I butchered making your favourite and if I deem it inedible, I was going to call for take-out.” They extolled; Kishou could picture the face they were making as they glanced at the food. Both parties knew that only one of them qualified as an actual cook and unfortunately for them it was Arima. He adored it. The persistent glare that they’d use as they observed the different ingredients. The way they would speak quietly, threatening the food to taste edible, as though Arima couldn’t hear them and the way their tongue would poke out the corner of their mouth in concentration.
“I’ll be home soon, I promise, although I think it would be easier to order out. I’d like to see the other side of next week.” Arima exhorted; he listened to the hearty laugh that caressed the shell of his ear and filled him with an indescribable sense of warmth.
“You have a point there, Two to One Arima. Before I let you get back to heroically defending the people of this city, I should say that my work is having a black-tie auction event in a few weeks and I put your name in the ring to be auctioned off, don’t worry it’s just to teach whoever it is self-defence, but I just know all the old girls will be betting big to get even ten minutes with you. I know I will be” They laughed; the mild irritation that bubbled in the back of his mind was quickly smothered by the soft laughter in his ear. Arima struggled to be angry as he continued to listen. “If you don’t want to do it though, I can pull out. We can show our faces for ten minutes and then grab take out and watch a movie on the couch instead, it’s completely your choice.” They added.
“And miss the chance to be in the company of Sweet Old Mrs Iida, if its for a good cause, I’ll be more than happy to be there” He whistled, the distant memory of Mrs Iida’s wandering hands at the previous Christmas event causing an unpleasant shiver to run down his spine. “I have to go now though; I’ll be home in an hour.” He whispered. The soft ‘oh’ that rumbled through the speaker caused his chest to tightened slightly.
“Don’t stay away too long, I miss your stupidly handsome face, be careful, I love you” came the disheartened response. It pained him. Arima listened as the phone fell silent, the sizzling serving as a reminder that they were still there.
“I love you too, goodbye” Arima replied, and as quickly as the words had left his mouth the call ended. It took all of three seconds before the distorted giggles bounced through the air. Kishou waited for his guest to speak, his shoulders tensing once again, his head shifting slightly. Bandaged legs appeared in his eyesight, the ghoul following after them.
“Why’d you lie to them, Arima Kishou?” Her voice echoed through the thicket, a whistle following as she watched the One-eyed King. “You know you won’t be there; you’ve chosen to keep them in the dark even though I can see you want to tell them everything”
Arima frowned; he didn’t discuss this with her. Their meetings were only about the future of Ghouls and V. His personal life was never spoken about in depth and that’s how he liked it. It was by chance that Eto found out about his significant other, the ghoul had stumbled across them one day as they walked hand in hand through the street.
“Definition of a lie is not telling the truth. I told the truth just not the one I was supposed to” Kishou admitted. “Once this over, if this works. Not a single ghoul touches them. Do you understand?”
Author Note: I'm a sucker for this precious boi. And many more like him. Something hopefully a lot cheerier than the Fujimoto fic.
He was severely testing her patience today; in fact, he could see her beginning to boil as she sat in the corner of the room – in a seat he had once occupied. The others had left a while ago leaving them both to finish up their reports. As silence smothered the life from the room, he had chosen to tease her. Ginoza had started with a general comparison between her and Tsunemori. Before he moved onto her stoic holier than thou attitude towards the job and the same look of disgust for enforcers that he had once harboured.
When she slammed her hands into the table, he reminded her of her hue. The little temper tantrum was definitely not worth slumming it in the Enforcer Quarters. He even offered to grab Dime for her. That’s when he asked if she would also like the saddle. His poor taste in short jokes had earned him a icy glare from his superior.
“you know when I occupied that seat, I used to use the same expression when looking at Kogami. If you just raise your eyebrow a little higher and maybe brush the hair across your forehead. You’ll be the spitting image.” He jested; his eyes alight with amusement. Nobuchika wasn’t doing this to hurt her feelings and nor did he hate the newest Inspector – in fact quite the opposite. The man had never been very good at expressing his feelings, people only had to look at how he treated his father when they worked beside one another. Not until his father’s final breath did, he show he cared for the man.
“And you know you’re just shy of me using my dominator on you” She spat back. Feistiness, it’s what had attracted Ginoza into these back-and-forth conversations. Each witty retort from the Inspector had the man falling further for her. It wouldn’t be reciprocated.
“Is that what the kids call it these days? It’s ok Inspector, your secret is safe with me. Inspector on the streets, sadist in the sheets” He chuckled with a smirk. The second he saw anything other than mild irritation paired with strangled amusement he would cease the teasing. He would literally sprint to get Dime. He would apologise as he let the energetic dog do the same job for her hue as he did for his. Nobuchika hadn’t been raised a bully, and he was certain that if his parents could see him now, they’d be disappointed. Ginoza enjoyed, perhaps too much, the way her cheeks would tint a soothing shade of red whenever he said something she wanted to be angry at, but instead found amusing. He liked the way she refused to look him in the eye after he took a few blows, from a particularly violent latent criminal, that had meant to be for her.
“Get up” She all but shouted, her fingers balled in tight fists as she stood from her seat. “I’ve had enough, I’m going to smack that smirk off your face” Her words were a bravado; the very second Nobuchika stood she would back off. She’d throw him a thinly veiled remark about him not being worth her time as she had done many times before. Ginoza grinned as he lifted himself, he watched as she charged at him.
Ginoza loomed over her by a significant amount, everyone knew she wasn’t that short – at least not enough for him to consider her anything other than a standard height. The man happened to be taller than most of the females working there, not once would he use his height to intimidate anyone, at least anyone other than a latent criminal.
“Go ahead” He whistled, his hand lifting a little as though he was going to reach out for her arm. For a second, he thought he would, before he held it in place. “You’ll need to grab a stool, unless you’d like me to be on my knees.” He added.
The silence that had settled across the room was nothing short of painful. In those few seconds he thought he’d crossed the line; he was almost certain of it as he watched her face contort. Her body staggering slightly, he was ready to hold her up and he was all the more ready to fight the sadden look that flickered across her delicate features.
“Inspector, I-“Ginoza paused, his mouth immediately snapping closed as he watched her shoulders shake. Her body doubling over as a harsh – albeit addictive – sounded surged into the room. She was laughing, her hands wiping at the tears forming at the edges of her eyes as she struggled to maintain her composure.
“I’ll give you….I’ll give you that one.” His Inspector beamed; he immediately registered the way her fingers wrapped around his arm. A poor attempt to hold herself up right as she continued her fit of laughter. Ginoza wanted to bathe in that sound, he wanted to record it – so on those nights he felt lonely and missed his family, he could let her infect him with the joy she felt now.
How many times had she visited this place in the past three weeks? Not once had she managed to make it through the iron clad gates. Perhaps it was the weather that prevented her entrance. Each day had been a painfully sunny one, the direct opposite to the current heartbreak that was dancing through her chest. Or perhaps if she were being honest with herself, it was her cowardice that stopped her. It would certainly explain a lot, she hadn’t spoken to the man for over five years and yet she had made her way back as though she had never left.
What could she say? ‘Hey Fujimoto, wow how five years flies. I didn’t mean to stay away for so long, but you know the Vatican and other Exorcist business. Could not get the time off. Oh no, I…it had nothing to do with your adopted demon sons starting to call me their mom or pushing both of us to confess feelings that I tried to bury to each other’
Her brow furrowed; in a few minutes the confidence within her would dissipate. She would find her eyes darting to the pavement before her body pulled her further from the area. With a mutter about returning the next day she would scurry away back to the hole she had come from.
It was her own fear that had pushed her away from Fujimoto, the panic paired itself perfectly with self-doubt and within those final few months she had ruined everything. She had stopped visiting the twins, the monastery. She had rejected every call and text from Shiro, every time he would visit, she would pretend to be out, or she would ask for a certain demonic benefactor to draw his attention away.
The day she left; she had made no objection to Mephisto telling Fujimoto. In truth it had been a selfish idea that the man would turn up with his two tearaways in toe and confess like some bad rom com rerun. A selfish picture that she had no right to.
“It helps if you walk inside, the gates a fine material but the grounds inside are much more appealing. I can assure you there are no demons beyond this point,” Mephisto cooed. His sudden presence had caused her to jump, a hand flying to her heart as she glanced at him. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he would turn up here. In fact, it wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d been watching her ever since her return. The demon knew everyone’s habits. “Well, none from Gehenna at least”
“I don’t belong here. I’m not even sure why I even came” She mumbled. There would be no use clearing the air now, the unspoken words had no right to be said – not anymore. Instead, she gathered herself, expelling what little courage she had left and smiled at Mephisto. “I should probably get going, my flight leaves later this afternoon and check in at the airport is a pain these days.”
“My dear, I think this is exactly the place you belong. I’ve watched you stand here for three weeks, each time you stumble at the last hurdle, and though it’s a pleasure of mine to watch you humans and your strange cycles, I really think you should break this one. If you run again, I can’t promise you that it’ll make you feel better.” He chided. The smirk that danced along his features did little to soothe her. “Consider your vacation to the Vatican cancelled, I’ve asked for your help here at this Exorcist Branch. There seems to be some troublesome students at the Cram School that could really use the guidance of someone like you. No protests I’ve already spoken to the higher ups.”
She nodded; there would be no point in arguing with Mephisto. The man always had the last laugh, even when she was younger and he would tease her, much to the protest of Shiro. They always seemed to come to blows when she was involved. Mephisto had a habit of placing her in danger with his ridiculous antics and Shiro would always be there to protect her.
“So step in, say your peace and come to True Cross Academy with me.” He announced, his hands pushed her towards the gates with little resistance. “I’ll be waiting here when you’re ready”
She left him leaning against the iron gates as she dawdled through the grounds. She ran her eyes over each syllable attached to the stones until she found his. It hurt her to know she missed the funeral; it made her sick to her stomach to know that she could’ve done something had she not cancelled her flights every month.
The fresh flowers adorning the stone made her smile. Perhaps Yukio had been this morning, the boy had always been a softie, a strong one but a big softie. She remembered the time they all sat on the grass outside the monastery. She would teach him to make flower crowns and read him books on different flowers whilst Rin ran amuck covering himself in mud. Shiro would stand there a cigarette in his lips as he watched the older twin run around with his arms in the air.
“it’s been a while.” She began, “I don’t know what to say, I guess…You always started conversations, you knew I was hopeless so you always started them because if I did, I would put my foot in something. Like the time on a mission when we visited an elderly couple and they asked how long we’d been together, and I started rambling. I think I called her an old hag; said you were handsome and called her husband a saint for dealing with her.” She smiled. She hadn’t noticed that her legs were trembling or that water had begun to fall down her cheeks. Part of her wanted to call for Mephisto, just to have someone there. She wanted someone to tell her this wasn’t real, Shiro had been planning this prank for years.
‘You called me handsome, I think the actual term was as handsome as sin, I also think I heard you said that no matter how old I get I could still get some” He laughed. His laugh surrounded her like a hug as she pictured that memory. She remembered shouting at him, her face bright red as blood pooled in her cheeks. She hadn’t said that she remembered screaming that at him, that he would be lucky if she even gave that a second thought. ‘uh uh, no take backs. I don’t think my journal could handle the heartbreak. I’d have to go home and scribble out all the hearts with our initials in them.’
“This is so messed up; you shouldn’t be here. You should be with the boys stopping Rin from doing something dumb and watching Yukio study. Anything but here. When Mephisto…when they told me, you died. I screamed and screamed until my lungs hurt too much to continue. It was too late to come to the funeral; he’d come too late and I hated it. I hated him because if he’d been a day earlier, I would’ve been there for Rin and Yukio. I had the tickets months ago, but I missed the flight. I should have been here, and I would give everything to go back and get on that plane. I would give anything to rewind time to five years ago.” She cried. Her knees bucking beneath her as she stumbled to the ground. “I never…I never told you how much you all meant to me, all those messages you sent asking me if I hated you, if you’d done something but it was me. I couldn’t deal with the idea that my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. I left it too long and you died.”
Her hysterics flooded the quiet of the graveyard. She was certain Mephisto could hear her cries from outside the graveyard. Even more so when she heard his footsteps falling against the pathway. She felt his arms surround her as she sobbed. Shiro was gone; her world had almost entirely shattered. The words left unspoken were now rotting in her mind.
“I miss him, I miss him so much” She wailed.
“We all do, none more than the two Okumura boys. Father Fujimoto. Shiro informed me shortly before he died, that should he ever be unable to care for the boys that they be placed under your care, if you were to remain abroad, I would look after them. But you’re back now and I think it would be beneficial to them if you saw them. Yukio has grown into a fine teacher since you’ve been gone, and Rin has given himself a bold goal for the future. One I’m sure he’ll need your help with. But first we need to get you all cleaned up.” Mephisto whispered.
Author Note: So this is a break from the Arima, Nobuchika, William and Claude. am I right? I remember first watching Blue Exorcist with my Twin and my god did I fall for that show. It was probably one of my first Anime's. I just read the Manga and Yukio will always be my favourite. Followed by Mephisto and Shiro Fujimoto.
“You’re coming too Yuki?” Shiemi extolled as they made their way through the cram school corridors. Truth be told the younger Okumura had no idea what she was questioning him about and if he hadn’t had a bad feeling in his stomach, he would have said yes there and then. He exhaled as he paused the thoughts that had been distracting him.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention” Yukio confessed, he let his hand fall on the back of his neck as he smiled at his student. Anyone else would’ve been fine with it but he saw the disheartened expression that crossed over her features, and if he saw it so had his brother. He felt the impact before he registered it. The harsh thump had ricocheted pain through his arm.
“The exorcist dance, you know sort of like a prom or a ball. Like in one of those nerdy manga books you read” Rin jabbed. Yukio had no intention of attending a dance; he had never attended one voluntarily before, usually he would be working or studying.
“I’m sorry, I’m working on the day of the dance,” He apologised; he felt Shiemi sadden before she turned her attention to Rin.
“You’re coming though Rin; we could go together?” Shiemi raved. She hadn’t noticed the meaning of her words, or the way Rin’s body stiffened, and his blood pooled in his cheeks. Without speaking he nodded. Yukio stifled the laugh that threatened to cause ruckus through the air.
“No fair, I was going to ask you that” Yukio caught the mumbled whine that left Rin as they entered the classroom. He watched as his brother slunk his way into his seat, his pride damaged. The youngest Okumura glanced over the rest of the class; the girls sat off to one side whilst the boys nursed their wounds. It was clear Shima had once again asked Izuku to a dance, and perhaps Bon had asked [Y/N]. No Yukio refused to let that image enter his mind, but he didn’t stop the sense of joy that pricked at his mouth when he took in Bon’s rejected features.
“Well class, today I’ll be giving you back your recent Pharmaceuticals quiz- “Yukio began, his words fell short at the sudden crash. His head shooting towards the source. He watched as Mephisto’s form entered the classroom. This had become more than a common occurrence. For a second, he contemplated that the demon was keeping a particularly close eye on his lessons.
“I’m sure you’re all excited for the coming dance and I just wanted to stop by and inform you that everyone should be in attendance, no excuses.” Mephisto practically sung as he addressed the students. “Even you [Y/n], I’m glad to see your injuries from the recent exorcism have healed nicely.”
Recent injuries. Yukio’s head shot towards her. Worry swarmed the teen as he registered the bandage just peeking out the cuffs of her sleeve. He’d sat in a room with her for hours on end each day and not once had he noticed her wince in pain, nor had he heard about her going out on any exorcisms. She wasn’t cleared for any-
“Mr Okumura,” Mephisto’s voice snapped him clear of his thoughts. “Miss Moriyama informed me you’re working the day of the ball. Everyone is to attend, given how hard you’ve all worked recently, I think you deserve the break as well. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Uh, yes.” Yukio agreed. He’d let Mephisto win this time.
“I’ll be off then. I declare the cram school cancelled for today, we’ve got a dance to prepare for” Mephisto grinned.
“Don’t forget to grab your tests on your way out” Yukio barked as they all but ran from their seats. He observed them as they went, his eyes moving to the next as they picked through the pile of papers. Until the last left was hers, he watched as she cautiously stood, a brief wince falling across her face. She wasn’t in pain, she just…well he could see her eyes looking everywhere but him. “You got hurt on an exorcism” he croaked.
“If I’d told you Mephisto asked me to go on an exorcism you would’ve asked to join, plus I had Shura supervising me. It’s just the exorcism was in my hometown.” She smiled. She made her way to the front, her hand reaching for the paper. “Anyway Mr Okumura, I don’t think it matters what I do in my free time, considering how our last conversation went.”
This time Yukio winced. He felt the sharp blade of guilt turn in his gut. He called her impulsive and reckless when she stood against Amaimon. If Rin hadn’t caught the Demon’s attention your injuries could have been catastrophic. He felt his harsh shouts echo through the room as though the walls had remembered them.
“I-“He paused, his mouth closing as he looked down.
“If it helps, the anger from that argument helped me kick serious backside on the field. Especially when I was trapped between a rock and a demon. I won’t bore you with the details, I’m sure you’ll find the reports somewhere. Thanks for the test Mr Okumura, I guess I’ll see you at the dance tomorrow.”
Yukio hadn’t slept that night; he hadn’t even been conscious through his training that day as he kept pinging back to her words. He should’ve just told her why he’d been so angry after that incident. Not only had his brother lost control and been taken away in cuffs but his students had been injured. He’d been helpless in that moment caught between the threat and protecting them. He held seniority in that situation with Shura indisposed. Yet he let her antagonise Amaimon, whilst he patched the others up. She’d been hurt because he couldn’t get to his guns quick enough, she’d been both hurt and saved by his brother in the space of a minute.
Yukio stood with his back against a wall as the dance began. He hadn’t registered people trying to gain his attention as he swam in his own thoughts. He hadn’t noticed Rin and Shiemi laughing as they approached him in an attempt to get him to loosen up. To remember that right now he was still a teenager and that even the other Exorcists were letting themselves enjoy the night.
“It takes some level of antisocial to be stood in the dark at a dance.” Her voice had been the only one to ripple against his thoughts. His eyes blinked a few times before he straightened up. He smiled feebly at her. How long had she been stood there? How long had it been since he’d arrived, by the looks of the exhausted crowd it had been a while? The dancefloor had been all but abandoned with only a few remaining people dancing with one another. “Here I got you a drink but then from the looks of the teachers I think Mephisto may have spiked it. I’d give it a pass.”
“That clown” Yukio grumbled. “I’ve been thinking and about the other day. After the whole Amaimon fight. It was wrong of me-“ She stopped him. A hand on his shoulder squeezing firmly.
“Mr Okumura- Yukio its fine. I was angry too; they carted your brother off and Mephisto wouldn’t say anything. I asked him to give you a break and before you get angry, it was my choice. I went on the exorcism in your place. These injuries are my fault. But I’m fine. So fine that I wanted to ask you something. Yukio Okumura, can I have this dance?” She interrupted him. He felt the anger bubble for a while as he let the information sink in. He sighed, his head dropping for a second before he nodded.
“I mean considering all of our classmates have passed out, sure. But really it should be me asking you. At least that’s what I’ve wanted to ask you for a while.” Yukio uttered. He held his hand out to her, his eyes peering at her over his glasses as he smiled. She placed her own hand in his as they stood to the side, there was no need to walk into the spotlight at least he hadn’t felt the need to do that. Instead, he pulled her close to him as the music lulled into a slow melody.
Her head fell against his shoulder as he held her tight, their bodies swaying together. He pulled himself closer to her, his head resting atop hers as his thoughts that had clouded his mind for days evaporated. Right this instance, all he could focus on was her.
“I’m sorry” He whispered; his lips ghosted over the top of her head as he listened to the music. “I wanted to do nothing more than run after you after our conversation, I wanted to apologise and tell you that I was mad because I’d failed as both a teacher and a friend. You were hurt on my watch and I let you put yourself in the line of danger. I was mad because you mean more to me than anything.”
“I waited” Her words fell in line with the rhythm as she lifted her head to look him in the eye. “I waited for a while outside the door. If it helps, I wanted to go back in the room, and both hit you and kiss you. If you failed as a teacher, then I failed as a student.” She smiled. He mirrored her smile. Both becoming aware of just how little space there was between their faces, and just as they felt the breath of the other heavy on their lips; a shriek tore them apart.
“Mr Okumura, seriously. You rejected me for him” Bon’s voice boomed from across the hall. The commotion had caught the attention of most of the other students, bar Shima who had fallen unceremoniously asleep across a few chairs.
Author Note: Look at this Fluff, it's just everywhere in here. No Angst in sight.
Ginoza had been away from the comforts of his home for almost two day; the case had been particularly troublesome, and the criminal remained at large. He barely had time to enjoy the comfort of his own bed paired with the warmth from both his dog and his significant other. He called her that, neither of them had quite placed a label on it; yet that had been what he felt more content with.
He watched as the members of his team disembarked for the evening, the enforcers returning to their quarters and his inspector heading home. It was under his orders for them to leave. One mistake out of exhaustion could result in someone being hurt and though he wasn’t as concerned for his enforcers as he was for his partner. Akane had an odd habit of taking kindly to latent criminals and even with her sharp eyes he would hate to see her hurt.
The harsh vibration tore him from his thoughts as he glanced at his incoming call. The corners of his mouth quirked as he answered. In the lull of work, he found himself grateful that she had called him. Usually, he would prefer it if she waited for him to call her but today was different.
“Ginoza” He declared. He could hear her soft giggle as he waited for her to speak. He could picture her now, stood in one of his shirts and some old joggers as she pranced around his home with Ron. He’d left her there with a promise he’d be home soon, and that she’d only need to look after his dog for a little while longer.
“Guess who taught Ron to hug” She beamed, and he felt the tension of the case rolling off his shoulders. Nobuchika didn’t have the heart to inform her that his bright-eyed canine could already in fact hug, but then the hound had never really taken a liking to her. He assumed it had been his overprotective nature with his owner. “He gave me the biggest of kisses didn’t you” she continued. He could hear the soft pants of the dog as he listened to them both.
“Is this what you called me for?” He queried. He felt his mouth widen in a yawn as he ended his question, he wondered if he should take his own advice, maybe if he headed home and rested for a while tomorrow, they would catch the Latent Criminal. He shook the thought free, what ifs clouded his mind. What if the criminal struck again and he couldn’t catch them? What if whilst he slept another woman was killed. He shook his head. He’d have to power through.
“Yes and No, I couldn’t find Ron’s treats, he just sat looking at the fridge. so, I cooked him some of the meat from said fridge, and by some, I mean he begged for the majority of it, and he gave me the biggest puppy dog eyes. Practically asking for an accomplice, so I ate some. However, whilst he chowed down on some questionable looking steak, I saved you some.” She jested. A chuckle surfaced from his throat. The thought of the mess in his kitchen currently only caused the chuckle to evolve into laughter. “When are you coming home? We miss you Nobuchika, we miss dad don’t we Ron” She raved.
“You can’t see my eyebrow, but rest assured, it’s quirked at a disbelieving angle. As an Investigator I should be taking you both in for theft of meat but on this occasion I’m willing to overlook it, on the premise that next time you check the top of the fridge for Ron’s treats” He laughed. He heard the soft oh that popped from her mouth. If he could see her now as she stood on her tip toes peering over the rim of the appliance.
“I’ll buy you some more steak, but on a slightly serious note. When are you coming home? I’d really like to see your grumpy face at home sometime soon, I can’t imagine that you’ve had much rest in the past couple days.” She postulated. She was the only one he’d let call her grumpy, he felt his smile soften briefly.
“This one is a tough one. Give me a few more hours and I’ll come home. I just want to revise the evidence. There has to be something I’m missing.” He faltered; he allowed the exhaustion to relay in his words as he gave off a small sigh.
“My boyfriend, the brave overly dedicated investigator. You’ll catch him, I know you will. You always do. Take your time, me and Ron will be waiting. However, if you hit the seventy-two-hour mark, I will be coming there to drag you home by the tie you’re wearing. Promise me that if I’m asleep when you get here, you’ll wake me up. I want to see you before we go to bed.” She warned him. Her voice remained playful as she spoke, and he felt his chest swell at her words. If there had been any venom on the syllables, he had missed them.
“Of course, I will, I’ll see you soon” He replied. He wouldn’t wait an hour, maybe he’d work for thirty minutes before grabbing his things and leaving. He’d make sure to stand at the door for a few minutes just in case in that moment of reprieve from the screen he thought of something.
“Goodnight, Nobuchika. I love you” She yawned. He almost choked on her voice. She’s never said that before, they’d spoken on the phone almost every day, but she’d never shown her sentiment. He’d always wanted to, but he’d never had the time. Kogami, Masaoka or Tsunemori would appear before he hurried to cut the call short.
“Goodnight” He responded, it was rushed, and he found himself stumbling over the two syllables. It was only after the call had ended that he chastised himself for not saying it back. No-one was around, the enforcers had been gone for hours. Ginoza made a vow as he glanced back to the files on his screen, that when he returned home, he would tell her. He’d say back as loudly as he could before sleep drowned them both.
Author Note: This is a trigger warning. There's talk about suicide. So I want to be the voice in your heads that reminds you constantly that you are worth more than you think. Suicide may seem like the only option for those in that place, hell I've even been in that mind space and it takes a lot of strength to keep going but eventually it'll be worth it.
It hadn’t crossed his mind, whilst he observed the recent victim of death, that he should spark a conversation with his partner. Normally, he would quietly stand in frustration as he listened to the likes of Ronald or Grell ramble on about feeble habits. Sure, occasionally he would throw out a witty remark about overtime or professionalism on the job and usually said response from him would float right over their heads.
This time though, he’d been entrusted with the care of the newest member of the Retrieval Division. He’d been lumped into the select few that were forced to mentor due to staff shortages. When they had met, William had thrown them the usual mandated greeting and offered them his thoughts on how they should behave whilst working. He’d almost forgotten every word that had left his mouth as they trailed behind him back at the office. Had he told them he preferred silence, a careful lie he’d grown used to telling the new Reapers.
“I’m really grateful to be under your mentorship Mr Spears” They beamed; their once timid voice which only uttered a cautious ‘thank you’ and soft agreements caught him off-guard. At first, he frowned, another overtly happy possibly insane Reaper had entered the Dispatch. “I was scared they would pair me with Grell or Ronald. In all honesty I don’t think I would’ve learned much.”
William’s lips twitched as he peered over to them. Their eyes remained fixed on the target ahead, he hadn’t noticed it before; but then he was never in the habit of making eye contact with others unless strictly necessary. A brightness sparked beneath the florescent eyes; this small light had piqued his curiosity. William found himself switching his line of sight from the soon to be deceased to the Reaper.
Even from the angle he could see the softest quirk of their lips as they worked. Their once idle fingers dancing against the rooftop, the movements seemed erratic at best but for a second, he thought he could hear them humming gently. He took a moment to disprove his thoughts as he looked towards the street. Two women disappeared down an alley, laughter and singing emitting from them.
“Can I ask you a question Mr Spears?” they inquired, fingers landing flat against the surface. Repositioning themselves they turned from the soon to be deceased. An eyebrow lifted in response as he nodded. “Do you ever think that before we died, we would’ve been one of those souls that get to live a little longer?” Their wording was sloppy at best; and he could see they were struggling to grasp the actual question in their mind. William barely remembered before he had become a Grim Reaper; in fact, a large portion ended up forgetting everything about their past selves. Whether consciously or through time he was uncertain.
“Honestly, the thoughts never crossed my mind.” William responded truthfully. His answered seemed enough for them as silence covered both Reapers once more. William didn’t look back to their target, he didn’t even flip through the file to double check – he just observed his partner. The way they swiftly nodded to themselves as if agreeing to their own thoughts on the matter. They didn’t seem like the usual Reaper. Like they deserved to be tirelessly watching the memories of others. “I would think” He began, his voice failing him as he hurried to close his mouth.
William had hoped that his voice had been smothered by the sound of roaring laughter and squeals of delight from the women of the night a few meters down the street. He realised how wrong he had been when he watched their eyes look to him, their head tilted much like a confused dog. He frowned momentarily.
“I would think that type of error wouldn’t happen but with our staffing issues, who knows. Perhaps there have been more than a few that slipped by. I’d hope that no-one that important would fall to such an ill fate as us.” William sighed; the air settled unbalanced around them. So many questions had begun to form in the younger reapers brain, and yet they remained quiet. Their head nodding along sometimes as though the world around them didn’t exist.
“May I ask, one more question.” They chanced, eyes pleading as they looked at their mentor. He found his normal expressionless face falling briefly. His eyes softening just a touch, he nodded once more. They smiled. “Do you ever regret it?”
William knew what they meant; if this had been anyone else, he would remind them of their task and growled out a protest about letting them know of his personal life. Something in their aura made him question things he’d abandoned a long time ago. The experienced reaper found himself resting his scythe against a chimney stack as he lowered himself to sit on the rooftop beside them.
“No, I barely remember the time before I became a Shinigami. I think that’s a blessing at least for me, and if anything is to go by. I don’t think I was a well-liked man.” William confessed; a gentle sigh escaping him as he pulled at the pocket watch housed in his waistcoat. They had an hour before the collection, in a few minutes he’d check the book once more, re-read the same notes the two had gone over a dozen times already. “I’d like to ask you a question, if I may”
The comment had caught the reaper off guard. In fact, it had even caught William by surprise. It wasn’t as though he never conversed with anyone, it just he wasn’t used to this personal of a conversation. Usually, he’d be talking about a subordinate or a missing file.
“Of course, Mr Spears” They smiled.
“Call me William” He found himself saying. “You don’t seem like the sort of person who’d be driven to that extreme” The question itself fell from his mouth as a statement, his body shifting ever so slightly closer as though his partner were a magnet.
“I was really happy” They smiled. A softness captured their features as they glanced at the ground below. Their legs swinging as they dangled. He could see the fresh memories swirling in their eyes as they fought through to form the words they wanted to say.
“And yet” he offered the two words to them as a lifeline.
“Even the happiest of people can feel like they’re worthless. If I had to guess I would’ve said that I became too aware just how limited my own happiness was and that knowledge began to suffocate me. I couldn’t go a day wondering if I’d forget how to smile or if the memories I retained would fade along with the feeling. So, it led me down a dark road, I made a choice. I chose to die knowing happiness. It’s selfish, I know. The people I left behind wouldn’t understand, I’m not sure anyone really would but I did the only thing I thought I could do.” They answered.
Author Note: So I found this little work of pure...I don't even know what, and I thought to myself - A little like Drossel - why not upload to the ol' blog.
With each step through the endless darkness, she grimaced. Bare feet fell flat against the muffled creaks the carpeted floorboards gave out. The cold had done its best to remove the sweat that clung to her skin and kept her hair plastered across her forehead and neck.
In the night, shrouded by a cacophony of silence the Trancy corridors loomed over her panicked form. Gone was the feeling of belonging that wrapped around all the manors inhabitants, replaced only with a chaotic danger that scratched inside the walls. The fragments of her nightmare nipped at her. By now the shadows had begun to form disjointed shapes that swam in the depths of her eyes. A harsh breath glided across her skin as bumps arose to the surface. She could practically hear the gut-wrenching scream that had blended so well with her choke cries.
“Wondering the halls at this late hour” the void echoed; she found herself torn from her thoughts. “who could you possibly be looking for?” the question held no concern or anger.
Her eyes lifted, only briefly, as they sought through the shadows. It seemed like a futile task searching for a silhouette in pitch black and yet here she was. His shallow breathes blended with the ambience as she listened for movement. The crimson running through her veins hardened as her heartbeat quickened.
“Well?” He inquired; his patience had begun to wear thin – as it usually did when it regarded the rest of the servants. Soon enough he would move on, he would return to patrolling the grounds or he would retire to the library to consume the same thousand books he’d practically seen written.
“Where are you?” Her voice faltered in the air, as though the words themselves had begun to second guess their nature. She felt fingers wind around her wrist before she was pulled through the darkness. Her eyes closed as she readied for some form of impact.
“It usually helps if you open your eyes when you look for someone” He chastised her; she blinked as the light flooded her vision. A sudden warmth enveloped her frame. Claude watched quietly as he took her in. The usual maid outfit had been replaced with an ill-fitting nightgown. “As much as I don’t hate your company, I’m still awaiting an answer to my question”
“I” She began, her mouth falling open before quickly shutting. She wasn’t really about to tell him she watched him be torn to shreds by a group of vagrants whilst protecting her. Nor was she about to confess that the man haunted her dreams almost nightly and yet this had been the worst one.
“If you’re looking to sneak out, I suggest alternate clothing, I’m afraid the drop in weather would make you ill and not a single one of us is picking up for your slack, and if you’re looking for the triplets, they know better than to fraternize with fellow staff.” Claude sighed. His fingers plucked the glasses from his face as he ran a handkerchief across the lenses.
“Actually, I” She gulped; her brain was fighting her mouth as she struggled to form the words. In an act of desperation to found herself clinging to him. Her limbs wrapping around his frame as he dropped his previously occupied hands. “I had a nightmare about you” she paused. The words seemed to gain the man’s attention as he lifted hie eyebrow. He’d been about to chastise her, fling her from his body but his golden eyes ran over her features. “And I wanted to make sure you were alright”
Claude had been around for a painfully long time; in fact, he’d seen the rise and fall of England a few dozen times and he’d even ventured as far as America before winding up back where he began. He’d consumed many a soul and met more people than he cared to remember. He’d almost given up learning each and every name or retaining any memory of his past exploits. Not once, in all that time, had anyone ever checked whether he was ok. Not once had anyone sought him out in the dead of night because of a nightmare. Sure, he’d had Alois’s night terrors that tore him from his routine but that only ever ended in a slap to his cheek and a whimpering boy clinging to his waist.
“Is that so?” Claude queried, he was intrigued; his arms finding their way around the smaller frame, his hand hoovered over the material of her nightgown as he allowed her this moment of intimacy. Claude relished in the way her warmth spread across him; it hadn’t felt like any warmth he’d felt before. He didn’t instantly feel like his body was entombed by fire. “I’m more than fine, I can’t say the same for you. You’re practically shivering, allow me to escort you back to your quarters.”
Claude felt her nod into his chest, his hand reaching for his long since discarded candle, he kept an arm secured around the maid as the wandered the halls.
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