A/N: Hello again! I'm kinda in a roll since I have a bit of time before the semester starts and I must say that this prompt wrote itself super easily haha Thank you so much @ranunculusfox for betaing, babe ❤ And as always I hope you enjoy this fic :)
Prompt: Children
Words: 1.6k
Summary: kid!Gajeel meets kid!Levy at Fairy Tail's playground - Modern!AU
FFnet // AO3
She was a tiny thing, he had decided. Though as a 7-years-old brat, Gajeel wasn’t much bigger than her. But she was still some inches shorter than him and she was definitely the shortest kid in the playground.
He had never seen her before. And he would have noticed her with that bright blue hair of hers. He assumed she was new at school, and well, Fairy Tail’s backyard wasn’t that big so every class ended up sharing the same space, something about the school being a big family or some mushy shit like that.
He concluded that this definitely had to be her first day since no one in their sane mind would sit down next to the court where Salamander and Ice Princess were playing soccer. Well, more like running around and kicking the ball as hard as they could to see how far it would go. They didn’t even try to aim their shots to the stupid goal. So, everyone in school knew that it was a death wish to sit on the bench nearby.
And she was holding… a book? What kind of kid goes out to the playground with a book? And sits down next to the soccer court to read it?
Before he became aware of it, Gajeel had started walking towards the soccer court. Cobra called after him, yelling something about it being unfair for him to bail out of their race against Sawyer and Midnight, but Gajeel didn’t pay much mind to it. He was completely focused on dragging the short girl out of the danger zone before she was hit by one of Natsu’s fire kicks.
He stopped right next to her. A rude remark about her being stupid rested on the tip of his tongue when his eyes caught the cute yellow ribbon that adorned her hair and matched her pretty dress. His mouth snapped shut at the weird fluttering feeling he had in his belly.
She hadn’t noticed him yet, so Gajeel tried again just to find his voice failing him. The longer he looked at her, the harder it was to say anything. He felt stupid to be standing next to her without uttering any word at all. His hands felt sweaty for some odd reason and his face started to heat up. Dafuq was happening?
Gajeel finally looked to the side and tried to control something, as he had no idea on what was wrong with him. His attention was drawn by the soccer ball bouncing off the fence of the playground and rattling the metal mesh. If that had hit Shorty…
Right. Now he remembered why he was here in the first place.
He looked back at the girl who was still lost within the pages of her book.
“Oi.”
No answer.
“Oi!”
She flipped the page and Gajeel was irked beyond belief.
“OI!!” he yelled close to her ear and a startled squeak escaped her lips.
She wiped her head around, snapping her book closed and hugging it tightly to her chest. When her eyes landed on him, Gajeel felt his irritation dwindle a bit.
Her brown eyes met his gaze. No, that wasn’t right. Her gaze wasn’t as dark. The coffee his old man drank every day was brown. But the colour of her eyes was lighter, sweeter like the chocolate milk Gajeel had every morning. Yeah, it was more like chocolate milk. He was sure there was a name for that colour, but for now, he would have to settle with chocolate milk.
“Oh. Hello.” Her voice was small but it was enough to startled Gajeel out of his musings about the colour wheel.
“What are ya doing?” His question came out as annoyed rather than curious but she didn’t flinch at his gruff tone.
“Oh! I’m just reading. I’m new here.” She stood up from the bench, flattening her skirt and extending her hand forward for Gajeel to take. “I’m Levy!” She smiled.
“No, I mean… what are ya doing here?” He pointed to the bench and the soccer court to emphasize his point.
Gajeel noted how friendly she was acting with him but hid his surprise. Usually, the new kids would scurry away from him. With his red eyes and pierced eyebrows and nose, it was more often than not that Gajeel was feared in the playground, even if he did nothing to the other kids but get into friendly fights with Salamander and Ice Princess.
“Uhm, what do you mean?” Levy tilted her head to the side and retreated her hand. Embarrassment made her voice quake slightly. Had she sat on this kid’s bench or something? She really didn’t know if they had certain rules in Fairy Tail’s playground that she wasn’t aware of.
“Are ya dumb or something?” He quirked his eyebrow and crossed his arms over his tiny chest.
Gajeel had never been someone of nice words and his remarks would get him in trouble from time to time. He knew the way to the principal’s office by memory now, but it was just the way he talked and how the other kids couldn’t take any harsh comments before running to the teacher snitching on him. So, when the words left his mouth, a tiny part of him flinched as he could clearly picture the girl tearing up and telling on him with one of the teachers about him being an ass.
He clearly didn’t expect how she reacted though.
“Hey! That’s rude!” She took a step forward, poking him in the chest with her delicate finger. “You shouldn’t be saying such mean things! Apologize. Now.” Her face was pulled down in a frown but her chocolate milk eyes blazed with something Gajeel couldn’t understand.
He uncrossed his arms and took a step back. What was it with this girl? She puffed out her cheeks and placed her hands on her tiny hips, with her book laying on the bench next to her. Though she was shorter than Gajeel, he felt somehow intimidated by her.
What da-?! Who is this shrimp?!
The fence rattled once again by a stray shot. The noise was enough to bring back Gajeel from his confusion and… admiration? He shook his head and a frown returned to his face.
“Reading here, really? Next to the two worst soccer players in the world?” Gajeel pointedly ignored Natsu’s offended remark Hey! I heard that Metalface! and continued to stare down at Levy. “Yer just asking for yer death here.”
Realization dawned on her as she looked from the soccer court and then back to Gajeel. “Oh.” She wrung her hands in nervousness, her voice coming out small. “Oh, I had no- “
“HEY! WATCH OUT!”
Her sentence was cut short by Natsu’s loud yell and she turned around in time to see a soccer ball coming her way at full speed. She instinctively brought her hands up to cover her face but before the ball could hit her, Gajeel’s quick reflexes kicked in and he punched the ball off course. It bounced off a nearby tree and finally stopped a few feet from the soccer court.
Levy opened her eyes slowly and lowered her hands. Gajeel stood there with his arm extended, looking intently at the ball as if making sure it wasn’t going to come after them again. When his red eyes met hers, she noticed he was breathing heavily, agitated by the whole ordeal.
“You okay?” His voice was low, as if he feared he would scare her more. Levy nodded. “See?! I told you it was dumb to be here!” His voice rose a bit but though his remark was reprimanding, she could sense his concern for her.
“I-I didn’t know.” She squeaked and hurriedly grabbed her book. She pointedly looked to the ground, escaping his gaze as embarrassment made her cheeks turn pink.
Gajeel sighed, releasing the tension in his small body. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her after him and away from the soccer court. She made no effort to resist him until they were halfway through the playground.
“W-wait.” She stopped her walking and though Gajeel could have still pulled her to keep moving, he complied with her demand and released her. He turned to her, noticing how she held her book tightly to her chest again.
“What?”
“Uhm.” She tugged her hair behind her ear before meeting his gaze with a sheepish smile. “I don’t know your name yet.”
Oh, right. He had forgotten about that.
“I’m Gajeel.” He offered and to his confusion she seemed to perk up at this.
“It’s nice to meet you, Gajeel!” she chirped. “Ah, and thank you for saving me. I… I hope we can become great friends!” And then she smiled, all white teeth and rosy cheeks.
“A-ah.” Gajeel nodded and quickly grabbed her hand to keep moving to the other side of the playground. She faintly noticed the redness on the tip of his ears but thought it was because of the sunny weather.
Gajeel pointedly ignored the tingling sensation of his hand holding tightly to hers. But he made a note in his mind to ask his old man about the fluttering in his tummy and the rapid beating of his heart. Maybe he caught something and was getting sick?
Before the ring of the bell announced the end of playtime, Gajeel also noted to ask his father about the colour of Levy’s eyes. Because now that he paid close attention to her, he could see golden sprinkles in her gaze. And Gajeel was pretty sure chocolate milk didn’t look as nice and sweet as her eyes did.
A/N: Wasn't this the sweetest? Squeeee! I loved to write them as kids! Gajeel is too cute for this world, even when he acts all tough and strong. I hope you enjoyed this fic! Let me know your thoughts on it :D
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Summary: “He crouched down to assess the situation, placing his bag beside him. At closer inspection, he heard the other boss repeating in a whisper a name, “Doumeki.”
“Misumi-san sent me. You’re safe now,” he said. Yashiro tried to turn and look at him but winced. “Careful there, stay still.”
Notes: Hello @mecakeski , this is your gift for @saezurusecretsanta Secret Santa 2018. I am deeply sorry that I am so late. I hope you can forgive me. This is a multichapter fic, already wholly outlined. Kageyama and your prompt “love spell” will be in the next chapter. I’ll try to update the fic as soon as possible, because you deserve a finished gift. In the meantime, I wish you a happy new year!
Can I request a fanfic involving Jellal as a doctor/med student and Erza running on a treadmill while connected to a heart monitor as part of a stress test; the stress proving too much for Erza's heart, resulting in a massive heart attack and Jellal must revive her?
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I altered the ask just a wee bit, deciding against Erza having a heart attack - but I kept it darn close to the premise.
><><><>< And, I also am gifting this fic to @tangledcharm as their belated Summer Fic Exchange story. I understand you like Jerza, so I hope you enjoy this with the tiny bit of implied Gruvia I wove into the story. Word count ran to just over 1600, so I used a ‘read-more’ ~
Here we go!~ ‘Doctor Sexy’
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“I don’t need you keeping tabs on me.” Erza glared at her partner, Detective Gray Fullbuster - who only shrugged and smiled even more as the flimsy hospital gown on Det. Scarlet gaped where it shouldn’t and strained to contain in the front.
“You ditched out the last two times, I’m under strict orders to make sure you stay.”
“You know we had emergencies.” Erza gave one last longing look at the chair in the corner, piled with her clothes - and best of all, in her estimation, her gun and badge. “Why don’t you go find Nurse Lockser and have a nice visit? She’ll be upset if she finds out you came to the hospital and didn’t see her.”
“Do you think you’ll get rid of me that easy?” scoffed Gray, “We see each other plenty at home. Captain will have me running errands, or worse if you don’t get this stress test done. ”
“He’d never pair you with Dragneel again.” Erza grimaced and heaved a sigh. “The department budget can’t take such a sustained hit and I’d hate to have to train another newbie.”
“What are you sayin’?” Gray frowned. “I’d kill Dragneel, I kicked his ass hard the last time we –”
“Excuse me?”
Both Detectives turned to look at the interloper. Fullbuster glanced at the doctor and then back at his partner. Gray hadn’t seen Erza this quiet since the last time she’d consumed a whole strawberry cake on a dare.
“Great! The doctor’s here and I can leave, knowing you’re in good hands.” Gray smirked at his now blushing partner, heading for the exit. Over his shoulder, he said, “Follow his orders like a good person.”
“I’m not a good girl!” Erza hurled her response to a closing door. She huffed and crossed her arms. “I’m very much a –”
“Good person?”
“–Yes.” Erza’s brain caught up with Gray’s last statement, what she’d just said, and what her doctor had said. Running away wasn’t in the cards. Well, not until after the stress test. “Last week was gender conformity training, and … that doesn’t matter.” Erza realized she was gripping her gown way too hard and relaxed her hands. “This won’t take long, will it?”
“Long enough that I should introduce myself. I’m Doctor Fernandez, Jellal to my friends.” Jellal held out his hand to Erza. “I’m pleased to meet you, Detective Scarlet. Word is, you’re responsible for putting away the hoodlums who’ve been tagging graffiti.”
Erza hurriedly wiped her palm on her gown and thrust her hand against Jellal’s, pumping it up and down rigorously. “One of many!” Did that make sense? Lord have mercy, no it did not. She could withstand the cool and suave looks of Fullbuster, didn’t turn a hair at the tanned, handsome face of Dragneel - so why was this tall and debonair doctor making her ovaries melt? “I mean, one of many collars I’ve been involved with.” Wish I could be involved with you…
“Of course.” A polite smile on his face, Dr. Fernandez nodded and his smile morphed into a full-blown grin.
Damn. He looked even better with a bit of devil glinting in his eyes. Erza couldn’t help her answering smile.
“Um, if you’d let go of my hand?”
No mercy for the wicked. Goddammit. Erza released Jellal and changed her wish. Instead of clothes, she’d accept a nice big hole to fall into. “Sorry.”
“Even though it’s a simple stress test, lots of people do experience nerves doing this.” Jellal kept his professionalism, trying to put his patient at ease. “Once we get you on the treadmill and running, the hard part is over.”
“Okay.” Erza gulped. Would Dr. Sexy watch her run? Thank heavens for small mercies - today’s undergarment was a serviceable sports bra. No horrible wobbling breasts. But then again, ugh, boring black elastic. If only she’d known the doctor on duty for this was so delectable. Cool hands pressed the patches onto her skin, quickly under her gown and gone in an instant.
“Step this way.” Dr. Fernandez gestured to the waiting treadmill. “I read your chart, I’m sure this isn’t anything you can’t handle.”
“Okay.” Really? What’s with the vocabulary of a four-year-old? Ugh! Stepping onto the exercise equipment, Erza vowed to herself - no more stupid actions! This was just like going for a jog - or chasing a criminal. Run and keep running. But no criminal had ever looked so good in a long, white lab coat. It had to be some kind of sin to be that attractive.
Doing her best to focus, Erza lowered her head and watched her feet as she ran. One minute, two - but insatiable curiosity had her staring at Dr. Jellal. He was checking off squares on his papers - and lost his grip on his pen. It arced, he almost caught it - but it spun off his fingers and tumbled to the floor. Into the corner, it rolled and he turned to pick it up.
Whoa! The doctor didn’t sit on that ass all day. Ooh! Taut and nicely rounded.
The sudden beeping alarms startled both Erza and Jellal - who dropped his paperwork and pen onto the desk to monitor the treadmill. “An anomaly - these things happen.”
Not so much reassured as embarrassed, Erza nodded. She was breathing a little heavy, but not dangerously out-of-breath. Maybe later she could say something more stimulating than ‘okay.’ As long as she didn’t grunt - that would be something she couldn’t come back from, for sure!
Giving up on being subtle, Erza watched the doctor as he tidied his desk, shuffled papers and picked up his pen. It looked like an expensive gift, she couldn’t read the engraving of course but had script on the barrel. Let it be from a parent. Would he stick the pen in his mouth as he thought? Ooh. Thinking of that led Erza’s imagination to a bluer neck of the woods.
Was it getting hot in here? Normally ten minutes of running was a warm-up. Gah! Dr. Sexy was going to stick the pen in his mouth! No, almost, but no. Jellal held it pressed to his chin and then moved to slide it into his top pocket. Well, he tried - and failed. His fingers caught on his shirt, ripping off the button and sending it pinging to the floor.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Dr. Fernandez ignored his gaping shirt to check on the alarming machine - read and analyzed the data on the screen and chuckled. “Unexpected, but if it alarms for no good reason once, it can do it a second time.”
Face red from more than the running, Erza gave her blue-haired Adonis a shaky smile. “F-f-fine!”
“No need to waste breath on speaking, you’re doing great.” Jellal smiled, adjusting a few dials. “It shouldn’t go off again like that.”
Dr. Sexy had a wonderful smile. Oh, he’s gonna go sit at his desk again. Mmm, what I wouldn’t give to have him close to me in better circumstances. What if I caught him speeding and pulled him over? My deluded and delirious brain forgot I’d left traffic violation duties a long time ago. Right now, all I could do was fantasize about exactly how I’d let him beg his way out of a ticket…
Erza’s eyes glazed a bit and she ran harder, feet pounding along on the treadmill, reaching speeds only the most aggressive athletes could attain.
“Not much longer, it’s amazing how hard you’re going at it!” Honest appreciation coloured Jellal’s words. “Keep it up!”
Yes. Oh baby, once I get my hands on you, you’ll be keeping it up. As long as I didn’t blurt out my dark desires I could enjoy all my saucy thoughts without fear.
Jellal was fumbling with his gaping shirt, paying no attention to the skillful way I was mentally undressing him, nossir. His long, elegant fingers pulled on his shirt, but to no avail - nothing but another button would fix his problem. So why was he unbuttoning more? Yowza - he had a fine set of pectorals to go with that tight ass. He shrugged his shoulders and closed his shirt by purposefully making it crooked.
Dr. Jellal ruffled his hair, massaging his neck - and that’s when Erza’s doom was sealed. He had the smallest and most possibly, cutest tattoo. Unable to keep balance and ogle with her mind taken with new sordid images, Erza tripped.
Beep! Thud! Beep! Beep!
On her back; arms and legs akimbo, Erza was silent.
Jellal killed the treadmill and ran to Erza’s side. Cautious hands checked for broken bones and strains. Ascertaining relative health, Jellal listened to Erza’s heart. Strong and rapid beats - well within the normal range for her previous exertions. She moaned and began to stir.
Erza moaned and began to stir. She opened her eyes to see Dr. Fernandez inches from her face. “Am I dead?”
“No, you’re going to be fine.”
“Y’sure?” Erza blinked and tilted her head, hissing as the motion hurt. “But I must be dead, there’s no angels on earth.”
“You’re alive but you’re right about angels, they don’t come down to earth.” Jellal shook his head. “I’m no angel and once we get you sorted out, I’ll have to take you on a date and show you my devil’s tail.”
Erza giggled. “I’ve seen it.” She reached out and patted the side of his neck. “It’s almost as cute as you.”
“Ah, you saw that tattoo?“ He winked and squeezed Erza’s hands that he still held. “That’s not my only one.”
Author's Note: The sequel to my first Ikesen Sasuke story (Do You Have a Fever?). Welcome to chapter 2. Chapter 2 still isn't ns/fw. Sorry. On the bright side: Mitsuhide. Also, Chapter 3 is also done and much steamier.
Thank you to all for your support, kind notes, reviews, fun tags and so on!
~ Impracticaldemon [Read on FFN HERE]
The Oda Strike Back
I didn't see Sasuke for over a week after The Episode of the Wardrobe Malfunction (also playing in my embarrassing moments highlight reel as The Day I Got High and Snuggled Sasuke). A week wasn't actually very long, but I harboured deep suspicions that his buddy Yukimura was keeping him away with comments like, "You can't trust those wild boar women, Sasuke—show even a moment's weakness, and they're all over you."
Of course, that was probably unfair to both guys. Sasuke wouldn't tell even his BFF—Sasuke's term, employed with his customary lack of expression—about what had happened. Probably. And Yukimura and I got along pretty well now, except when his tactlessness got the better of my patience. He just doesn't have my appreciation for your charming naiveté, noted my inner Mitsuhide, before I slammed the (mental) door on his comments.
In any event, whether it was Sasuke's gift of ibuprofen that helped me, or the unintentional snuggling, I got over my cold in record time, and then spent a week hoping to see my fellow time-traveler so that I could apologize for my behaviour. Inevitably, certain people made a point of commenting on my occasional lapses of attention.
"How are you feeling today, Chieko?" asked Mitsuhide, his lips curving into what the naïve might call a smile. Apparently, he was spending some quality spymaster-conqueror time with Nobunaga this morning.
"Fine, thanks. Why do you ask?" I paused, politely handed Nobunaga his morning correspondence, and then added, "It was just a cold, and I recovered six days ago." I gave him my haughtiest don't-mess-with-me-this-morning look. A pointless effort, but he'd asked every day since I'd—completely accidentally, and while under the influence of opium—pressed my aching head into Sasuke's surprisingly well-defined chest. For the record, Sasuke had done a fine job of holding on to me once I was there, so—
A soft huff of amusement from the white-haired Machiavelli of the Oda forces suggested that I might have inadvertently lost focus at a bad time. I glanced up at Nobunaga to see whether he'd noticed anything, but he appeared to be skimming through the letters I'd brought. I resumed my attempt at a withering glare, and tried to will away the ridiculous—and entirely uncalled for—blush that was creeping across my cheeks.
"I am merely concerned about the health of our dear chatelaine, after her recent illness." Mitsuhide's long, white lashes concealed the predatory gleam that no doubt lurked in his snaky golden eyes, but nobody was fooled.
"Perhaps; however, you do keep asking." Nobunaga's incisive tones were curious, rather than annoyed, but they demanded a response. So much for my small hope that Azuchi's premier candy thief wasn't paying attention. "She doesn't look ill, Mitsuhide, she looks infatuated. Does it involve you in some way?"
What?!
"I am not infatuated with—with anyone!"
Mitsuhide ignored me. "Alas, I do not believe that I am the object of her desire," he lamented, with patently false regret. Nobunaga shot him an oddly appraising look, but his so-called left-hand man merely returned his usual slithery smile.
"Well, Chieko? If it's not an entanglement with Mitsuhide, then what is it?"
I kept my eyes on Nobunaga, unwilling to risk looking at The Bane of My Existence. A sudden idea skittered through my brain.
"I'm not entangled with anyone, Nobunaga. However, I must admit that my thoughts have turned to Mitsuhide quite often of late."
For once, if only for a fraction of a second, both men looked surprised.
"Really now?" Mitsuhide was suddenly beside me. "Do tell!" Now that he was looking down at me—and so close!—I felt just the tiniest bit apprehensive. He was a snake who preferred to play with his food before finishing it off. Sometimes I curse my powers of imagination.
I took a calming breath, and resisted the compulsion to look up into Mitsuhide's eyes. I addressed my reply to Nobunaga.
"You see, Mitsuhide has been like an uncle to me"—I thought I saw a look of appreciation cross Nobunaga's face—"and recently I've found that he comes to mind when I am faced with a difficult decision."
"I see." Nobunaga managed to imply enjoyment without actually changing expression. Then his attention returned to his desk. "Mitsuhide, we have work to do."
"Of course, my lord." Mitsuhide's eyes were gleaming with mischief, and I suddenly felt a qualm or ten about my decision to poke back a little. A slender finger caressed my cheek in a way that was not at all avuncular; I was unable to fully suppress a shiver—of apprehension, mostly. Only mostly? Good grief! "Good morning then, my dear Chieko. Rest assured that I will keep an even closer eye on you, now that I know how much you look up to me."
I managed a rather sickly smile as I left. Baka! Idiot! What the hell were you thinking? Mitsuhide Rule Number One: Do not, under any circumstances, try to play his game—any of his games. You will lose, and not even the occasional, fleeting victory is worth it.
When I got back to my room, I decided to go down into the market instead of returning to work with the seamstresses as originally intended. Maybe I could find Yukimura, and warn him that Mitsuhide seemed to be uncomfortably aware of Sasuke's activities in and around the castle. When Inner Mitsuhide snickered at the word 'activities', I may have snarled aloud.
Unfortunately, Yukimura wasn't in his usual spot. My heart sank, although I tried to keep the disappointment off my face as I pretended to browse the wares in nearby shops and stalls. After half an hour of searching—and a rather convoluted walk around the market area—I was forced to admit how much I'd been hoping to see Sasuke again, and how worried I was that I might not see him again for a long time.
"Hsst, ojō-san! A moment of your time!" The words were pretty standard for both beggars and merchants, but the hushed tones made no sense. Plus, who used words like 'psst' and 'hsst' outside of old novels?
I was about to take a quick step back—strangers trying to kidnap me had been an issue in the past—when I realized that the stooped, oddly-dressed figure was the man I most wanted to see. He was wearing the traveler's traditional flat straw hat, and strange clothing, but it was Sasuke. My heart started to beat a little faster, and my attempt to play it cool failed miserably as I rushed headlong into the narrow, shadowed lane.
"Sasuke! I've"—one hand gripped my shoulder, and another pressed against my mouth, preventing further speech.
"Sorry Chieko, we need to get out of here. Okay?" Sasuke sounded apologetic, but didn't remove his hand until I nodded. His fingers seemed to linger on my face for a moment longer than necessary. A weird part of my brain replayed the sensation of Mitsuhide's mocking caress earlier, cataloguing similarities and differences. Then the hand on my shoulder slid down to close firmly over mine, and a giddy, swooping feeling in my stomach made me a little light-headed. I winced internally as I felt the goofy smile hit my face. You are an independent, adult woman, not a fourteen-year-old with a crush! Despite my best efforts, Mitsuhide's smirk flashed across my mind, followed by Nobunaga's irritatingly knowing expression.
Sasuke was already moving by the time I got my head together, and I had to hurry to keep up with him. Despite his obvious anxiety to leave town quickly, his grip never tightened too far, nor did his pace increase beyond what I could handle in my kimono and sandals. For some reason, I could feel myself smiling again. Pull it together, Chieko! He's just a considerate guy, not some kind of hero. I mean, you didn't see him for a week, and now he's dragging you off somewhere without an explanation! And you're happy about it! (Mental eye-roll.)
Out of nowhere, my usually quiescent—more like comatose—romantic self downed a few shots of espresso, sat up, and took umbrage. And how many considerate guys have you actually met in the last couple of years? Right? So shut up! I had a point, I conceded, blithely going where I was tugged.
Actually, Mitsunari was often considerate, if not always helpful. And Hideyoshi could be very considerate, once you got past his—let's be honest—obsession with Nobunaga, and if you didn't mind Extreme Fussing™. Masamune was a good guy—and a great cook—despite living life at twice normal speed. In fact, they all had their own ways of being kind, even Mitsuhide, although his version was subtle, and usually involved him entertaining himself at your expense while helping you. Fine, noted my romantic self, now sipping gently at a mild green tea with lemon, but you're not holding hands with any of them.
We traversed several of Azuchi's less pleasant lanes and back-streets, before emerging onto a footpath leading across a meadow toward a not-too-distant wood. It was a beautiful day, and bright flowers were scattered throughout the waving grasses. Sasuke came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the meadow, and I careened into his back. He automatically helped me to regain my footing, but his eyes remained fixed on some point ahead of us—at least, the glint of sunlight off his half-concealed glasses suggested that he was staring at something.
"Um—Sasuke?"
"I'm fine. Just don't move."
I still couldn't understand what was wrong, but I did my best to obey, a little relieved to get a break from trying to hurry in geta. I continued to peer around Sasuke's side—though without moving too much. The grip on my hand tightened a little, and my companion looked down at me and then away.
"We'll have to go around. I'm sorry about this—it will be slightly harder for you underfoot."
"Sasuke, what are we going around?"
His expression didn't change, but his cheeks and neck reddened a little. Was he embarrassed? His expression was as difficult to read as ever, especially since his upper face was in shadow under his straw hat.
"…Could we discuss that later? Right now we have to get under cover. Though it was clever of you to lose them back in the market."
"Lose who?" I demanded, starting forward a little reluctantly this time.
"Lord Mitsuhide's agents. I thought that was why you travelled so randomly around the market area."
I was stuck on the first part.
"Agents? Mitsuhide's agents?"
"My hypothesis was erroneous, it seems."
We were moving again, but a little more slowly than before. The grasses in this area had been regularly scythed, and there were no flowers. There wasn't so much a path as a wide, rather barren field that appeared to go on all the way to the trees in the middle distance.
"I guess so—that you were mistaken. I have no idea what's going on." I was momentarily distracted by a different question. Or maybe I just had too many things to think about at once and fixed on something irrelevant. "I wonder why this area is all grass? I hadn't thought about it before, but it's like this all the way around the town, pretty much. Not short and hard-packed like this, but you know what I mean." You're babbling, dear. Yeah, I'd noticed, thanks.
Sasuke's grip loosened a little, as though he appreciated the break from more difficult subjects (whatever they were). Naturally, he knew the answer to my not-quite-question.
"Most castle towns are like this—in Europe as well as Japan, from what I've read. You don't want an army to be able to creep up on your castle or castle town. So you cut down the forest around the town. The area we're crossing now is where the Oda forces drill. That's why it's so hard underfoot, and the grass has bare patches."
"They've been at war for a long time, haven't they? All of them, I mean." After two months, I'd finally gotten my head around it, but sometimes the whole Warring States thing really hit me.
"Yes. Over a hundred years already—so not just the existing warlords, but their fathers and grandfathers and so on. It was a terrible time, but…" Sasuke slowed, and I knew without looking up that his expression had become both more animated and a little distant.
"But there were some brilliant and wonderful people?" I asked softly, not wanting to break this brief sense of being outside all of the bloodshed and disaster. I could pretend to be out on a summer walk with a friend, just chatting—for no apparent reason—about historical Japan. Do you always hold hands with your friends? No—now go away, you're interrupting my fantasy. …Which involves holding hands with a Sengoku fanboy named after a famous, but probably fictional ninja?
"Yes, exactly," said the fanboy in question. For a moment, I couldn't recall which question he was answering, and just stared at him blankly. "…Chieko?"
We were almost at the edge of the wooded area, but Sasuke stopped and peered at me as though trying to figure out why I'd stopped working. I found myself holding my breath, keenly aware of just how close he was now that we were facing each other. He still had my hand, and my imagination was starting to get the better of me.
"I was just thinking things over," I said hastily, trying to ignore the fact that he looked adorable, even in the ridiculous straw hat. Wait—seriously? Adorable?
"I see. It's true that there's a great deal to consider. For my part, although I can't condone the way in which violence is used as the first—and often only—approach to dispute resolution, I have come to greatly respect the warlords with whom I've served, even beyond my pre-existing, quite considerable admiration. I suspect that they are all suffering from various mental health issues, but despite this, they seem more alive, more vibrant, than most of the people I know back home."
I found myself nodding at his words, and saw his lips curve into his rare, rather shy smile. My heartbeat sped up further. "I'm glad we can talk about things like this, Chieko," he told me earnestly. "I mean, I realize that you are the only other time traveller here—that I know of—but, just for the record, I consider myself fortunate that you were the person who was inadvertently trapped here with me."
"Oh…" I managed feebly. Was that some kind of confession, or was Sasuke just that oblivious?
There was a short, possibly awkward silence. Then Sasuke's eyes went very wide behind his glasses, and he quickly took a half-step backward, letting go of my hand. This time the blush was unmistakeable.
"I'm sorry—I didn't mean—that is, we should keep going. This is all because of the—of them—being in the way when you were sick. Chaos rides on their fluttering wings. I should have known that something like this would happen."
Sasuke's last two or three sentences were muttered under his breath and largely incomprehensible to me. I had the impression that I wouldn't have understood even if I'd heard him properly.
We slipped under the shade of the trees just a few minutes later, and Sasuke took off the hat and peasant's kimono he'd used as a disguise—principally for changing his outline, he explained, although the hat was also useful for concealing his glasses (less reflected light off the lenses). Before I could ask any questions, he told me that we were "almost there," and moved silently away. His cheeks were no longer red, but he still wouldn't meet my eyes.
Despite Sasuke's assurances, it took another twenty minutes to reach our destination. Yukimura was waiting at the door of a small wooden hut, looking just about as twitchy and irritable as I was starting to feel. My sandals were pretty, but not appropriate attire for hurrying over rough ground, or through the woods. And my sore feet were the least of my worries.
"Sasuke! Where the hells have you been, moron?! You were supposed to be back here an hour ago—at least!"
"I'm sorry I'm late," Sasuke replied calmly, pausing to exchange a complicated fist bump that looked distinctly out-of-place in Sengoku Japan. "Things came up."
"What's that supposed to mean? You said you needed to tell Chieko about some stuff and then we could go. Have you even told her anything yet?"
"Hi Yukimura, nice to see you again," I said politely.
"Right—hi. I'm afraid we've got go now. Akechi's really turned up the heat in the last few days, since Sasuke's last mission went wrong somehow."
They were returning to Kasugayama? For good? I brushed away a sudden—and totally excessive—sense of disappointment. And something went wrong with Sasuke's last mission? Anything involving Mitsuhide was potentially dangerous.
"Sorry, I really don't know what's going on. Sasuke kind of grabbed me from the market and now we're here." I gave Yukimura my best innocent bystander look. He frowned, but it wasn't the scowl that I used to get. His eyes flicked over to Sasuke, and I sensed something like concern. I was impressed with the lack of eye-roll.
"Well? Do you need a bit more time? As long as you didn't accidentally lead anybody here—"
"I didn't." Sasuke's reply was unusually terse.
"Okay, fine. Just remember that everyone makes mistakes, even you, so—"
"I have never assumed that I am infallible, Yukimura. However—"
"Then stop beating yourself up for making one mistake, okay? It's annoying. Besides, we had to leave now anyway, as it turns out."
"…I understand."
This time, Yukimura did roll his eyes, but I couldn't blame him. What was going on with Sasuke?
"Alright, I'm heading out. You, uh, explain things to Chieko, then catch up to me." He gave me a quick nod, and a wry smile. "See you 'round, Chieko. Don't run off any cliffs after we've gone, okay?"
"Sure thing, Yukimura." My return smile wasn't feigned—it was an old jibe, and the guy had saved my life. "Look after yourself, okay?"
"Yeah, sure. Although—" Yukimura hesitated, then shook his head. "It's just weird, you know? The people I need to watch out for most are your buddies on the Oda forces. And vice versa." The last was said with chilling sincerity.
"As I explained before," interposed Sasuke, "Chieko values personal friendships above the feudal ties of lord and vassal. She wants everyone to be safe."
Yukimura just shook his head again—at me, at Sasuke, at life in general. "That's not how it works. But—hope you can stay out of the worst of it, Chieko. See you soon, Sasuke. No offence to Chieko, but we've got some feudal ties to honour. And Lord Kenshin won't go easy on you if you're late."
"I am aware of the value that Lord Kenshin places on loyal service. I will rendezvous with you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?! You're using weird words again, but tomorrow? We're due back—"
"ASAP. I know. But I have a few more loose ends to tie up."
There was a brief stare-off, then Yukimura shrugged. "It's your neck. Literally."
On that valedictory—and ominous—note, Yukimura turned and strode off. He navigated the undergrowth without difficulty, the sword on his hip and spear on his back as comfortable and familiar as his tunic and trousers. All at once I felt like I was seeing Sanada Yukimura the warlord, rather than Yukimura, Sasuke's merchant friend.
[END]
A/Note:
Stay tuned for chapter 3, where things get decidedly more risqué! Okay, but Sasuke is just an overachieving cinnamon-roll and I ♥ him.
Tags: @cherryb0mb79 @shell-senji @nalufever @hidetheremote @eliz1369 @iamaikotachibana @flower-dragon @canadiangaap @yum-chan @llama-in-socks (thank you for wanting more!)
Thank you to @acrispyapple for your kindness. ♥ (also, Byron - nuff said)
prompt-based drabble fic! clocking in at 542 words, i have no fucking clue what this is! reblogs are appreciated!
Gray knocked on the door. “Lucy, it’s me! Open up.” He shifted the box beneath his arm to make himself a bit more comfortable.
“Coming!” He heard her yell on the other side. Something shuffled behind the door, and he thought he might’ve heard someone argue with Lucy. The noise abruptly stopped and Lucy pulled the door open. “Oh, it’s just you,” she says dismissively. She had her hair up in a ponytail and Gray’s eyes followed it swishing behind her.
“Hi?” He answered with uncertainty. “Is there someone else here? ‘Cause I could have sworn-”
“Huh?” Lucy glanced over her shoulder. “Oh yeah, I think I have Cana and Lisanna over.”
“You think?” Gray could barely finish speaking before he was yanked into Lucy’s room and had the door slam behind him. Lucy shoved him against the door, leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Is Natsu outside?”
Gray had stopped functioning the moment she had had him pushed up against the door, but her question somehow faintly registered in his mind. “Ummm, no?”
Gray didn’t expect her to suddenly release him, so he slumped against the door, eyes wide. Lucy whirled around, and yelled into the room, “Coast is clear, girls!”
At the call, Cana and Erza emerged from the inner rooms. It seemed they were hiding – but why?
Lucy took them in, and then asked, “Where’s Lisanna?”
Erza answered with a shrug, “She didn’t want to risk it, so she escaped through the window.”
Gray whipped his head to the window. We’re on the first floor of the building!
Lucy nodded and seemed to accept Erza’s answer. Gray became more confused with each second that passed. Gray shuffled the box in his arms uneasily. As though she had only just noticed, Lucy asked, “What’s with the box?”
“Oh, just some of your clothes that you left over. I thought I should give you this back.” Gray was moving apartments, so he was returning things as soon as he found them in his cluttered mess of an apartment.
“Oh thank you,” Lucy said as she took the box from him, and without a moment's hesitation, she flung it to her side.
Just what the hell is going on here?
“Oh, not to worry, Gray,” Cana piped up. “We stole something from Natsu and we’re hiding from him.”
“What did you steal?” He asked cautiously.
“His scarf,” Erza grinned. Gray’s jaw dropped. This particular bunch of girls was always wild, but he didn’t realise that they were borderline mental.
“He’s gonna tear you from limb-to-limb,” Gray stated matter-of-factly.
“We know,” Cana giggled.
“Gray,” Lucy purred. His eyes widened, because the last time Lucy had used that tone on him, he had to drag his ass to another town just to pick her up. Nothing good could come out that tone.
“I want no part in this,” Gray quickly said. “I value my life, and we all know Natsu cares for his scarf more than he does for me.”
“I’ll tell Gildarts who actually broke his favourite mug,” Cana interrupted.
Gray gasped. “You fucking wouldn’t.”
“I would,” Cana answered. “And you know it.”
Gray shuddered. Cana smiled toothily.
“Fine,” Gray acquiesced. “But for the record, I’m being blackmailed to do this.”
Summary: Somehow, the members of Fairy Tail find themselves in some interesting situations in an interesting world. For Bickslow and Lucy, that means waking up in the middle of the night to find out they have a kid, among other things.
Rating: M (Mostly T)
Pairing: BixLu
Words: 8k
Read on FF.net.
Lucy only blinked and watch silently with a piece of pizza still held in her mouth as Bickslow walked back in, slamming the door behind himself and cursing loud enough to make Freya look up. He’d been gone barely forty five minutes, but Lucy wasn’t sure she wanted to know why Bickslow was back so soon. She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a good thing.
Bickslow was still furious, although somehow, his mood had only gotten worse on his way home. He supposed that was because he’d just kept thinking about his father over and over. There were very few people that Bickslow actually wished were dead, but Oscar was most definitely one of them. He was convinced the world would be a better place without him.
He clenched his fists at his side and tried to refrain from just screaming at something inanimate. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did, and it was just making him feel even worse. “Fuck!” He kind of wanted to punch something, preferably Oscar’s face, but the last time he’d punched something, he’d gotten his hand all cut up and that hadn’t been all that fun.
“Is everything okay?” Lucy called out, grimacing as she set the slice of pizza back down in the box next to her.
Bickslow stepped back into the entryway quickly, finally noticing Lucy in the sunken lounge room. “Hm? What? Oh. Yeah, totally fine.” He let out a sigh before dropping his keys into the bowl by the stairs. “Is that Hawaiian?” he asked, spying the pizza sitting on the lounge.
“Maybe…” She didn’t even bother fighting it when Bickslow lifted the box to sit in its place, taking a slice once he had the pizza box on his lap instead. Lucy hadn’t exactly wanted to share her pizza, which was why she’d attempted to get rid of Bickslow for the night, but something had clearly gone wrong for him to be there right then. “So… Are you going to tell me what happened?” she asked quietly.
“It’s not important,” Bickslow mumbled.
“Ooo-kay… What about Oscar, then?”
“What about him?”
“Well, is he coming back?”
“I sure fucking hope not,” he muttered.
Lucy couldn’t help but begin to worry. She was getting the impression things hadn’t gone so well with Bickslow’s dad, especially if he was saying that he hoped he didn’t come back. “What is what supposed to be mean?” she asked.
Bickslow shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.” He’d said too much as it was. Lucy didn’t need to worry about how much of a prick his dad was, and Bickslow sure as hell didn’t want her to worry about it. Things had been fine without Oscar, so all they had to do was forget the guy had even shown up at all. Simple, really, and those days, Bickslow didn’t mind the simple things. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed,” he said once he finished the pizza, dusting his hands and moving the pizza box back off his lap.
“What? It’s not even eight yet.’
“I know. Just not feeling the best right now, kinda have a headache.” He kissed her cheek quickly before getting up, patting his leg and calling for Freya to follow him upstairs. “C’mon. Bed time, Freya.”
Lucy watched the dog stretch before jumping off the lounge to head for Bickslow, nudging his hand with her nose for a pat first. She’d been enjoying the dog’s company, not that Lucy would admit it out loud to. “Uh, well… Good night then,” she said, watching Bickslow climb the few steps back into the entry way. Bickslow only lifted a hand to lazily wave back to her before he finally headed upstairs, and Lucy let out a quiet sigh before returning to her pizza and movie.
She knew that there was something he wasn’t telling her, something to do with Oscar, but Lucy knew that she had no hope in hell of getting him to tell her what had actually happened, at least not that night.
###
Freya jumping up and barking startled Lucy awake, and she reached out to turn the light on just as the dog jumped down from the bed and bolted out into the hall and down the stairs, still barking loud enough to wake the neighbours.
Bickslow groaned beside her, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What the fuck is she barking at?” It had been months since he’d woken up like that in the middle of the night, but every other time it had been from Ingrid crying. Now that she was sleeping through the night, Bickslow had been savouring his sleep and enjoying waking up mostly refreshed every morning. If he’d known Freya would start waking up in the middle of the night to scare the crap out of him and bark like she was possessed, then he would’ve gotten a quiet pet. Something like a goldfish, or maybe a ferret.
“I don’t know…” Lucy mumbled. “I think there’s someone outside.” It was hard to hear anything over Freya barking, but Lucy thought she could almost make out the sound of someone banging on the door. She wasn’t sure who was stupid enough to visit in the middle of the night, though. She didn’t particular care to find out right then, either, not while she had one of the twins’ heads permanently sitting on her bladder. “Ugh, now I need to pee…”
As Lucy pulled herself out of bed and waddled over to the bathroom, Bickslow dragged his hand down his face and fought the urge to just lay back down and cover his head with a pillow. All he’d wanted to do was sleep and forget the day had even happened, but apparently he couldn’t even do that. So finally, Bickslow dragged himself out of bed to go investigate just what the fuck Freya was barking at.
If it was the neighbour’s cat again, he was probably going to report it as a stray cat to the ranger; in the month and a half they’d lived there, Bickslow had come to learn that the neighbour’s cat had an awful habit of sleeping on their front steps, in the garden, and outside the door in their backyard. If he wasn’t allergic to it, he might’ve actually just accepted it as his own pet and started feeding it. If it ended up being some drunken fool or some kind of prank, then… Well, Bickslow didn’t know what he’d do, because he wasn’t really sure there was anything he could do if that was what it ended up being.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Bickslow sighed loudly as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Freya stopped barking long enough just to put her tail between her legs and whine at him, then turned and started barking and pawing at the door again. The person on the other side of the door continued to pound his fist on it and Bickslow rolled his eyes as he switched the light on, unlatched the door, and pulled the door open, ready to give the imbecile a piece of his mind.
He didn’t expect that imbecile to be Oscar, swaying on his feet and just about falling face first into the hall.
Bickslow had half a mind to slam the door in his father’s face. But he didn’t for some absurd reason. Instead, as Oscar gave him a lopsided grin and opened his mouth to either vomit or slur some bullshit lie, Bickslow pointed back out to the street and said, “Turn the fuck around, go back to whatever hellhole you came from, and don’t come back.”
“What? C’mon, don’t be like that,” Oscar complained. He put his hand out when Bickslow went to close the door, pushing it back and forcing himself through the gap. “Look, I… I said some shitty things—”
“I don’t care.” Bickslow shook his head and pushed on Oscar’s shoulder, trying to get him back out the door. He was far too tired for that shit, and he couldn’t care less about hearing his father’s weak attempt at what was probably some kind of apology. “Now get the fuck out before I call the—”
“What’s going on?”
Bickslow spun when he heard Lucy from the middle of the stairs, and her coming downstairs was the last thing he’d needed right then. Now she was going to ask why he was kicking his drunk father out the door in the middle of the night, and Bickslow really didn’t want to answer that. “Nothing,” he said instead. “Just go back to bed. I’ll be up in a minute.” With one hard nudge, he finally managed to get Oscar out of the way of the door frame so he could lean against the door and finally close it, leaving his father slumped against the door on the front steps and whining like a child who’d just had their toy taken from them.
And, even if Bickslow had wanted her to just go upstairs, Lucy couldn’t do it. There had to be a reason that Bickslow’s father was at the door, and there had to be a reason for Bickslow making a point of kicking him out, and not just because it was the middle of the night.
“Bicks… Come on, I just… I just wanna talk,” Oscar shouted through the door.
Lucy ignored him as she slowly headed towards the door, crossing her arms and looking up as Bickslow made a point of looking elsewhere. “You know, this would be a good opportunity for you to tell me what’s going on,” she said softly.
Bickslow shrugged. “Nothing’s going on.” It was kind of the truth anyway, at least as far as Bickslow saw it. A drunk and delusional fool showing up at their door in the middle of the night wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Bickslow just had to send him on his way and everything would be fine.
“Uh-huh, sure. Why’s your dad here then?”
Bickslow shrugged again. “I dunno,” he muttered. “Probably because he wants to try and apologise or some shit because he thinks I’ll forgive him or something.”
“Apologise? What for?” Lucy supposed it meant they’d had some kind of argument, and it would explain why Bickslow had been in such a foul mood earlier if that was the case, but Lucy really couldn’t think of a reason for them to fight.
“Who knows. He’s never given an apology in his entire miserable life. I doubt he even knows how to give one.”
“Bicks…” Lucy said quietly. He really couldn’t make it any more obvious that he keeping something from her. If he was going to lie, then the least he could do was put a little effort into it. “Come on, why are you lying to me?”
“I’m not lying,” he insisted. He was just… avoiding telling her the truth. That wasn’t lying. Sort of. In any case, Bickslow knew Lucy well enough to know that she was definitely not going to let it go. She could be annoyingly persistent, and considering she was standing right in front of him, Bickslow knew he couldn’t just escape and hope for the best either. Even if he did managed to make it back upstairs, Lucy would just bug him about it up there, too. He really had no options. “He’s not a good person, Lucy,” he admitted after a moment. “I don’t want him here.”
“Why do you say that? What did he do to make you say that all of a sudden?”
“It’s not…” Bickslow shook his head. He didn’t really know how to tell her that the guy was just exactly like the father he’d left behind in their old world. He didn’t really want to tell her either. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
While Lucy still hated that he wasn’t telling her everything (or anything at all), she could accept that he didn’t want his father there right then, or even at all. The only problem was that Lucy wasn’t really comfortable just having Bickslow send Oscar on his merry way, at least not that night. She glanced to the door as Oscar banged on it again, tiredly asking for Bickslow to let him in so he could apologise. “Is he drunk?” she asked quietly.
Bickslow shrugged. “Yeah.”
Hearing that, Lucy wasn’t even sure if she wanted Oscar in her house right then. But sending Oscar away right then made her more uncomfortable than letting him in. “You can’t just send him home like that, Bicks,” she whispered.
“Sure I can,” he insisted. “If I ignore him long enough he’ll give up and go away. Simple.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two or why you want to get rid of him so much, but I can’t let him go like when he’s been drinking.”
Sometimes, Bickslow questioned Lucy’s sanity. Sometimes, he also wondered just why the fuck he loved her as much as he did, because clearly, she was fucking insane. “Uh, no. I’’m telling you right now that he is not stepping foot inside his house again.”
“And I’m telling you that he is. So move.” She didn’t really want to argue with him about it, especially not in the middle of the night, but Lucy didn’t think it could be avoided when Bickslow was making a point of being stubborn. So she shoved him out of the way to get to the door, only barely spared a glare at him over her shoulder before she unlocked the door and finally pulled it open. She moved out of the way just so Oscar didn’t go crashing into her, and instead let him fall flat on his face on the floor.
Bickslow knew he’d lost the second he saw his father try and pick himself up from the ground. It was pitiful, but he held no pity at all for the man. He just didn’t deserve it, and Bickslow couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Lucy was being nice to him. She wouldn’t be if she knew how much of a dick he was. But even then, Bickslow was sure she’d still be the better person and let him in. That was just what she was good at - being kind to those who didn’t deserve it. And he knew that all too well.
“Wait, where… Where are you going?” Oscar slurred, pulling himself up and watching his son make his way towards the stairs. “You’ve gotta… I wanted to… Come on! Just talk to me!”
Lucy sighed as Bickslow made a point of ignoring him and continued up the stairs. She was sure Oscar would crawl up the stairs after him if she didn’t step in though, so she went and made sure the front door was locked again before going to tap and Oscar’s shoulder and see if she couldn’t figure out something to do about him. “Come on, it’s been a long day,” she said softly. “How about you just get some rest. You can talk to Bicks in the morning.”
“Yeah… Right…” He’d be able to call Bickslow in the morning to apologise. Perhaps he’d even just visit him at work instead. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Oscar used them to help pull himself to his feet, only sitting on the bottom step for a moment before making it up to a standing position. He really couldn’t tell what had gotten into Bickslow to make him act that way all of a sudden, but Oscar knew that he needed to apologise - although even then, he wasn’t exactly sure what for. “I’ll come back in the morning or somethin’…” he mumbled.
“I didn’t mean you had to leave. It’s late. Just stay here.”
Oscar shook his head. “N-No, ’s fine. I’ll… I’ll call a taxi…”
“I insist,” Lucy said softly. She was just a little glad to hear that he hadn’t intended on actually driving home himself, but sending him home in a taxi still didn’t make her feel any better. “Besides, a taxi will take ages to get here. Come on, I’ll set up the lounge for you.”
“I… I guess…” He had to admit that crashing on the couch seemed slightly more appealing. He was struggling to keep his eyes open as it was and at least if he crashed there, Bickslow would have no choice but to talk to him. So he followed Lucy into the living room slowly, then waited until she’d moved the throw pillows out of the way before he collapsed down onto the cream sofa. He made himself comfortable while Lucy went to fetch a blanket, kicking off his shoes and grabbing one of the pillows to put it under his head.
Returning a moment later, Lucy placed the folded up blanket down next to him. “Do you want anything? Some water or something to eat?” she asked.
Oscar shook his head again. “I’m fine.”
“Well, if you change your mind, just help yourself. There’s some cold water and leftover pizza in the fridge if you want it.” Nodding to herself, Lucy bid her father-in-law goodnight, turning off the lights in the entry before slowly making her way back up the stairs and leaving Oscar in peace. She wasn’t entirely sure what to expect once she reached the bedroom again, but Bickslow sitting up in the bed and sulking with Freya on his lap definitely wasn’t it. “Alright, come on. You really need to tell me what your problem is,” she said, sighing as she climbed back up onto the mattress. Sure, their new bed might be way more comfortable than their last one in the apartment, but it was damn high and she was seriously considering using a stepladder to get into it.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he muttered, huffing and pointedly looking away. She was supposed to be on his side, damn it. She wasn’t supposed to stand there and let his shithead father crash on the couch.
“Bicks, seriously. He’s clearly been drinking and it’s the middle of the night. It wouldn’t have been right to send him away. What if something happened to him?”
“So what? I told you I didn’t want him here, and then you go and let him in to stay the night!”
“I know that. But what did you expect me to do? He’s your dad.”
“And that’s exactly why I didn’t want him inside the house again,” Bickslow said. It wasn’t a difficult concept to grasp, and Lucy was a smart person so he really didn’t know why she was having such a hard time understanding it. “I told you before he’s not a good person, and he’s not the kind of person I want around my family, okay?”
Lucy sighed again as she fluffed up the pillow under her head. She really did get that she’d offended him, but she still didn’t understand why. “How do you know he’s not a good person then?” she asked quietly.
“Because he’s my dad and I know exactly what he’s like.”
“Well… Maybe he’s different in this world…” She really didn’t know how bad Oscar could be though, especially not in their old world. For the most part, Lucy had just assumed that Bickslow hadn’t had any family left. He’d never brought them up, and as far as Lucy knew, Bickslow had been in the guild since he’d been a teenager anyway. “And you didn’t seem to think that earlier,” Lucy pointed out. “You weren’t saying this when we all went out to lunch.”
“I assure you, he is the exact same as the father I left behind in our old world.” He gave a small shrug before unfolding his arms to scratch behind Freya’s ears. “I was just hoping he’d be different when you showed up at my office with him. I didn’t really know what to think. Now I do,” he mumbled.
“Are you sure, though? I mean… What if he isn’t as bad as you think?”
He finally looked down at her resting beside him, and all too quickly remembered why he didn’t want to be talking to her about it. Everything really had been fine until Oscar had shown up. Now it was all a mess and Bickslow just wished he could put it all behind him. But he wouldn’t be able to do that until he talked to Lucy and got rid of Oscar, and the latter was something he clearly had no say in right then. “Do you want to know what he said to me at the bar?” he asked quietly. Lucy only shrugged into her pillow. “He told me how he said us—well, our other selves getting married was always a mistake. He also called you a bitch and whore and said I needed to fire James and get someone like Veronica back as my assistant, so I could fuck them instead because you wouldn’t be smart enough to realise that I was cheating on you again.”
Wow. So she hadn’t exactly been expecting that. “Well… I’ve been called worse…” Lucy mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. She didn’t exactly like that he’d called her that behind her back, but Oscar wasn’t the first two-faced liar she’d come across. She was just disappointed that it had turned out that way. She really had liked her new father-in-law.
“That’s not the point. He shouldn’t have said it at all. He shouldn’t have said any of it.”
“So, what… Are you just going to cast him away for good now?” she asked.
Bickslow shrugged. “Did it before, so yeah,” he said. “He’s the reason I’m such a shitty person in this universe, and I just don’t want him around so he can fuck up things, because that’s what he does. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s the reason my mother is dead, Lucy. He broke her. And he raised the other me to be able to the exact same shit to you and think it’s okay.” If it had just been him and he hadn’t had Lucy or Ingrid or the twins to worry about, then Bickslow knew he wouldn’t be making such a big deal about it. But it wasn’t just him anymore. He had his family to take care of, and right then, Oscar was the last person he wanted around.
Admittedly, Lucy felt just a little bad for arguing with Bickslow about it, but she still felt it had been the right thing to do to let Oscar in to make sure he was at least safe for the rest of the night. She knew that come morning Bickslow would be making a point about having Oscar leave as early as possible, and Lucy had a feeling that she’d be okay with that. It was Bickslow’s home too, and she didn’t want to go out of her way to make him uncomfortable, even if it meant that her children wouldn’t have their only living grandparent around.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Would using me as a pillow make you feel better?”
“No…” Bickslow mumbled. “Actually… Yeah, kinda…” She did make the best pillow, and it wasn’t like cuddling had been high on Lucy’s list of favourite things to do lately as well. And as much as he would’ve liked to use her stomach as a pillow like he had all those months earlier, it just wasn’t possible anymore, so sliding down the bed and under the covers after gently pushing Freya out of the way, he laid his head on her chest instead and draped an arm over her. She really was comfy, and he always liked it when she ran her fingers through his hair.
“Why didn’t you just tell me all of this when you got home?” Lucy asked softly after a moment.
“Because I didn’t want you to worry about any of it. I knew that if you knew what kind of shit he was saying behind your back, then you’d be hurt by it, and I didn’t want that.”
She supposed it did sting a little bit to know Oscar was who he’d appeared to be, but she was trying not to let it bother her too much. She had more important things to focus on. “I’m okay. What about you, though?”
Bickslow gave a small shrug. “Just kind of disappointed, I guess,” he mumbled. He really wasn’t sure why though, because he hadn’t expected anything else. But perhaps after seeing his father walk into his office that day after not even thinking about him for all those years, he’d had just a glimmer of hope that Oscar wasn’t so bad in that world. But perhaps that had just been wishful thinking. “Should’ve known he’d be like this. Our worlds aren’t all that different after all.”
“Maybe not…” Lucy murmured. “And… I know you don’t like it, but I think him staying for the night is the right decision. I promise he’ll leave first thing in the morning, though.”
“I know, and… You’re right.” Sure, he fucking hated it and he still didn’t think Oscar deserved anything even resembling kindness from Lucy, but it probably was for the best that he stayed. At the very least, it’d give Bickslow the opportunity to tell his father one final time that he wasn’t going to be welcome there in the future, and he’d be more likely to remember it when he was just hungover and not drunk.
###
Bickslow was never the first one up in the morning. No matter what, Lucy was always up before him, and by the time Bickslow made it downstairs, she’d already have Ingrid fed and she’d be in her playpen keeping herself occupied with her toys for a little while. He had tried telling Lucy that she didn’t have to do everything herself in the morning, but it never did anything. She always insisted that it was just easier for her to get Ingrid sorted in the morning if she was up so he could just get ready for work.
That morning, his house was quiet, and it only made him want to pull the blanket up over his head and go back to bed. Silence was a rare occurrence in his house.
With his snooze alarm going off, Bickslow finally dragged himself out of bed and over to the bathroom where he jumped into the shower and grudgingly started his day. By the time he was slowly walking downstairs twenty minutes later, hair still damp but dressed for work and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, Lucy had already let Freya outside, gotten Ingrid fed and put her down in her playpen, and was just finishing getting breakfast dished up. And, much to Bickslow’s annoyance, his father was still there and sitting at the end of the counter with a cup of coffee in front of him.
He’d really hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with Oscar again that morning. Perhaps that had been wishful thinking.
Bickslow ventured over to playpen at the front of the room to lean over the brightly coloured rails and kiss the top of his daughter’s head before making his way over to the kitchen.
“Morning,” Oscar mumbled with a glance over his shoulder, straightening up before taking a small sip of his drink.
Bickslow didn’t pay him any attention and focused on Lucy. She didn’t need to say anything for him to know that she was just as uncomfortable as he was, if not more so, and that was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. “You okay?” he whispered, kissing her cheek.
Lucy nodded, forcing a small smile. “Of course.” True, it wasn’t exactly the best of mornings, but she’d probably had worse. Either way, all she had to do was stick it out for a little while longer and then she’d just be able to relax again and not have to worry about Oscar again. “Do you, um… Do you want something to eat?” she asked quickly. “Or are you going to get something on the way to work?”
“Haven’t decided yet. Think I might stick around for a little while… And speaking of sticking around…” He looked back to Oscar on the other side of the counter. “When are you leaving?”
Oscar frowned at him. “Bicks, come on. Don’t be like this.”
“No. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Please, just… Just let me—”
“I mean it, Dad,” Bickslow snapped. “Don’t waste your breath. I’m not interested. I told you last night that I was done with all of your shit and I meant it. I’m not changing my mind.”
Oscar still didn’t know what he’d done. He was sure he’d missed something. First he doesn’t hear a peep from him in months, and then as soon as he makes an effort, it’s like he’s talking to a completely different person. “Why are you like this? What did I do?” he asked.
Perhaps the worst part about it all was actually that Oscar hadn’t really done anything. It wasn’t really Oscar’s fault that he was like that right then. As far as Bickslow’s father was concerned, nothing had changed; his son was the same person he’d always been. But that just wasn’t the truth anymore. Everything had changed, including him.
But while Bickslow wished that he could just say that it was all Oscar’s fault, he just couldn’t, because it wasn’t the truth, and Bickslow couldn’t even bring himself to lie.
“Nothing. You didn’t do anything,” Bickslow said quietly, refusing to look back up from the countertop. “It’s me. I changed. And I’m really fucking sorry, but I am trying to do what’s best for my family, and you are not it.”
Oscar couldn’t understand how someone could change so much and so little time, but he couldn’t deny that it had happened. “How can you say that, Bicks?” he whispered. His own son, of all the people to cast him out like that.
“Like I said, I’ve changed.”
Lucy looked between them when they both remained silent, Bickslow refusing to look back up, and Oscar making a point of looking down into his coffee. She couldn’t help but feel sorry the man, even if she knew she had no reason to. She didn’t particularly blame Bickslow for acting that way, either. Lucy was sure that if she was in his shoes, she’d be having just as much trouble telling Oscar to go. At the end of the day, Oscar was still his father, and that still meant something to Bickslow whether he’d admit it or not.
“I, uh… I called a cab before,” Lucy announced cautiously. She almost didn’t want to say anything, but she was didn’t want to let the silence drag out longer than necessary. “It should be here soon…”
Bickslow couldn’t bear to stay downstairs and wait it out. He wished he could, at least just to keep Lucy company and not have her deal with Oscar on her own, but the man kept looking like someone had kicked his puppy and Bickslow hated it. He was doing the best thing for his family, that much he was certain of, but he almost felt guilty for doing it and that wasn’t fair. Bickslow just couldn’t stay down there and keep feeling guilty for doing the right thing.
So he grabbed the cup of coffee that Lucy had filled with copious amounts of sugar, just the way he loved, kissed his girlfriend on the top of her head again, then retreated up the stairs to hide until his father was on his way out.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long at all before Bickslow saw the car pull up out the front of their yard through the upstairs window. By the time he made it back downstairs, Oscar was just reaching the door with Lucy following behind him. Bickslow tried not to pay too much attention to him when he looked up with those sad eyes of his.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Oscar said quietly, looking to Lucy and instead offering a sad smile. Bickslow tried not to roll his eyes at it. Try as he might, his father wasn’t going to be getting into Lucy’s graces any time soon. The fact he was actually making an effort almost surprised Bickslow, especially considering what Oscar thought of her, but Bickslow knew better than to let himself think his father might actually be sorry for something. “Thank you for letting me stay. I… I never meant to impose on anyone.”
Lucy gave him a kind smile as she pulled the door open. “Nonsense. You didn’t impose at all.”
“Right. Well, thanks again…” He looked to his son on the stairs for a moment, opening his mouth as if to say something to him before shutting it again. He knew better. And judging by the look on his face, Oscar realised that it wouldn’t matter what he said, because Bickslow wouldn’t even hear it. He could accept when it was time to leave, and so he did, turning away and heading through the open door and to the taxi that was waiting down the drive.
Bickslow made a point of following him out, stopping on the front steps with his arms crossed, watching to make sure that the cab took Oscar as far away as possible. He knew his father would be back at some point. He wished that sending Oscar away would be as easy as it had been in his old life, but everything was different there. Still, Bickslow knew he could deal with it if Oscar did eventually come back. He wasn’t going to change his mind, that was for sure, but right then, with everything going on in his life and with his constant effort to just settle down properly, his father was just the last thing he wanted to be dealing with.
“I gave him some money for the cab,” Lucy said softly as the car finally pulled away. “Just in case.”
With his father finally gone, Bickslow only felt exhausted. He let out the sigh he’d been holding in as he finally turned back for the house, going to sit at the bottom of the stairs as Lucy got the door. He should’ve known Lucy would help him out again. That was just what she did. He never thought he’d see the day where he hated that, though. “You’re too good to people sometimes,” he mumbled. “You know that?”
“I just try and do what’s right,” she whispered. Maybe that did mean she was too nice to people sometimes, but for the most part, Lucy disagreed. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with being nice to people, either. She’d always believed that you had to treat people the way you wanted to be treated back, and that just meant treating people with kindness in her eyes.
Still, maybe Oscar hadn’t deserved it. Maybe she really had been too nice to him after learning what he was really like. All Lucy knew for sure was that it was something that needed to be forgotten about. That was what Bickslow needed, at least.
“Why don’t you stay home today,” Lucy suggested after a long moment of silence, only watching him with concern as he sat with his chin in his palms. “We could go see a movie, or take Ingrid to the park…” Maybe a break would do Bickslow some good after the night he’d had. Besides, she felt horrible for not realising it had been Father’s Day and she needed to make up for that.
“That sounds amazing,” Bickslow sighed, “but I have to go to work. Rain check?”
Lucy smiled as she gave a small nod. “Of course.”
Eventually, Bickslow got up from the bottom of the staircase when he decided it was time to properly get ready to leave. He really would’ve loved to just stay home and enjoy what was left of the day, but his morning had already been ruined so Bickslow didn’t see the point trying to make it better at that point. It just meant he had the weekend to look forward to now, and that was fine with him.
“Bicks?” Lucy called up the stairs before Bickslow could get too far away. She waited until she’d turned around on her own step before continuing. “I love you. You know that.” She didn’t think she said it enough, and she had a feeling it was something Bickslow had needed to hear.
He smiled for the first time in a day, the corner of his mouth just barely lifting up, but enough to make it count. “I know you do. I love you, too.”
###
“Shit, sorry.” Laxus burst into Freed’s office out of breath and seemingly exhausted. “Fuckin’ Erza was on my ass about getting shit done before lunch.”
“It’s fine,” Freed said. He scooted over on the lounge to let Laxus sit down, grabbing one of the take-out boxes on the coffee table to hand to him. “We picked you up some lunch just in case.”
Laxus was already tearing it open and grabbing some utensils before Freed could finish his sentence. “Thank fuck. I’m fucking starving.” All he’d had all day was coffee, and as much as he loved the shit, it wasn’t enough to get him through the day. “Anyway. What did I miss? Anything exciting happen?” he asked once he’d already wolfed down half of the spicy noodles. They were a little cold from how long they’d been sitting there, but they were still edible.
“Ever made her assistant cry and quit,” Bickslow mumbled.
Laxus snorted, and Evergreen glared at them both while she was quick to respond, “Bicks’s dad showed up yesterday.”
“Shit, really?” Laxus asked.
Bickslow sighed as he leant back into the soft armchair. Trust Evergreen to blurt that one out. He’d only told her about his dad was because he’d run into her on the way to his office that morning and she’d asked what he was brooding about. He just hadn’t told his team about it yet. If anything, he hadn’t wanted to tell them about it either. They were still his best friends and his family and that would never change, but the longer he was in that world, the more Bickslow realised there were just some things he didn’t need to tell them. Laxus certainly never told him every little detail that happened in his life anymore - not that he’d ever done it a lot, but he had been prone to sharing every now and then - and it was the same for Freed and Evergreen.
In the other world, they’d only had each other. But there, in that world, they had their own proper families to go to at the end of each day, and that was just something that Bickslow had come to rely on far too much. But he enjoyed that. And he enjoyed having someone else to talk to all the time.
But when it came to his father’s sudden appearance, Bickslow just didn’t see why he’d needed to bring it up to his friends. It didn’t change anything. And if anything, Bickslow just didn’t want to dwell on it. Oscar had shown up and proven to be the dick he’d always been, and Bickslow had done the same thing he’d done as a teenager and wiped his hands clean of him. It was just the same shit in a different world.
Of course though, now that Evergreen had brought it up, well… Bickslow knew he had no choice in talking about it. He supposed that was what he got for telling them all about her assistant. In his defence though, it wasn’t like he’d known it was a secret or anything. He’d just happened to be walking past when it had happened. He’d assumed the whole floor knew about it by now.
“Yeah,” Bickslow finally said with a heavy sigh, only picking at what was left of his lunch. “Came by the house yesterday morning. Got dragged out to lunch with him when Lucy brought him here.”
“Oh, I was wondering who that was,” Freed said. None of them had ever met Bickslow’s father, not that it was surprising. He’d only been passing by when he’d seen them all leaving Bickslow’s office the day before; he hadn’t paid much attention to see if there was any resemblance. “How’d it go anyway?”
“Well, he’s still a cunt, so there’s that.”
Laxus snorted. “’Course. What did Lucy think of him?”
“She adored him, of course,” Bickslow said bitterly. It irritated him to no end that Oscar had been able to win her over that easily, but he supposed it had been the same with the other Lucy, too. That was just what his father was good at. “Told her all the fucked up shit he said to me when we went out later, and she was still nice to him about when he showed up drunk in the middle of the night.”
“Well… I suppose it is Lucy, after all…” Evergreen added.
Bickslow shrugged. “Yeah, but still.” He shook his head then. “Anyway, told him to fuck off. Dunno if he’ll actually listen, but whatever.” Really all Bickslow could do was hope at that point, but even that he didn’t want to do since hoping meant he was still thinking about it, and Bickslow didn’t want to do that. Oscar wasn’t deserving of any of his brain power, as far as he was concerned. He was just one person who really was better off six feet in the ground.
They’d all heard the stories about Bickslow’s family (or what remained of it), and they all knew just why Bickslow hated his father as much as he did. None of them blamed him, of course, so none of them were that surprised to hear that Bickslow had said what he had to his father in that world, too. Still, there was something about it all that just wasn’t quite adding up. If Bickslow cared as little as he said he did, then he wouldn’t be in the mood he was right then.
Perhaps becoming a parent had changed the way he looked at his own parent.
But of course, they all knew better than to keep talking about it. It had never been a topic Bickslow enjoyed, and that much clearly hadn’t changed. But outside of work, which they’d all agreed was not something they’d talk about on their lunch breaks, there really wasn’t much to talk about those days. And it sucked. Laxus didn’t talk much about Mira or their kid, Freed didn’t think his weekends were worth sharing since he mostly just read or went exploring the city, and Evergreen just flat out refused to talk about Elfman and what they did every night (but none of them really blamed her for that, either). But it was horribly silent in Freed’s office that afternoon, with only the chatter from outside the office and the sound of Laxus wolfing down as much as he could being heard in the room, and none of them particularly enjoyed that.
Of course though, they’d all agreed that Bickslow had the most intriguing life out of all of them since moving to that world. Well, everyone but Bickslow agreed. So it didn’t take Evergreen long to come up with something to break the silence, and she couldn’t help from reaching across the gap to nudge the former Seith mage’s knee as she excitedly said, “Hey, isn’t it Ingrid’s birthday soon?”
Bickslow shrugged. “I guess so, yeah. In a few weeks.” God, that’s terrifying. He was going to have a one-year-old, a puppy, and two newborns in a little over a month. There was nothing that wasn’t frightening about that. “Why?”
“Just curious,” Evergreen replied with a shrug. “Are you going to have a party?”
“What, for Ingrid? For her birthday?”
“Yes.”
“…Why? I mean… She’s a baby. Why the fuck does a baby need a birthday party? It’s not like she’ll remember it.”
Evergreen rolled her eyes at him. He’s still so clueless sometimes. “It’s not for her. It’s for the grown-ups, stupid,” she pointed out.
Bickslow had assumed that much, but he still didn’t really get it. “Yeah, but… why?” He certainly didn’t need a party, and he didn’t think Lucy cared that much about it either. She certainly hadn’t said anything about it.
“So we can sit around and get drunk and eat cake, you dipshit,” Laxus added.
Now that, Bickslow saw the appeal in. But even then, as much as he would love to just get utterly trashed and gorge himself on cake, Bickslow didn’t think he needed to use his daughter’s birthday as an excuse for it. He could very well just go and do that on the weekend if he wanted to - which he didn’t, because he’d much rather spend it sober with his girlfriend, but still. “Okay, that’s… fine, I guess…” he said slowly. “But like, we could just do that anyway. It doesn’t need to be for my one-year-old daughter’s birthday. I still don’t get why a party for a kid that age is all that necessary.”
It was like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Bickslow was just stubborn like that, and they all knew it. Thankfully, Freed was reasonably patient, unlike Laxus who only shook his head, and Evergreen who couldn’t help but drag her hand down her face. Personally, Freed didn’t care much for a birthday party, but he would admit that he thought them all having something to celebrate would do them some good.
“Well, it could also be a house-warming party,” Freed suggested. “Or just a normal party, even. None of us have seen the house since you and Lucy moved in there. It would be nice to see what you’ve done with the place since then.”
“I mean… It’s just a house… It’s nothing special or anything…” Bickslow mumbled. Sure, it had a fuck ton of pillows everywhere (why Lucy insisted on them, he still didn’t know), but it still wasn’t that fancy. It was a house. With walls. And stairs. And pillows. That was it.
“Sheesh, it’s almost as if people are actually trying to hang out with you or something,” Laxus muttered with a mouth full of food. “You know, like friends do.”
Bickslow shrugged. “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”
Evergreen rolled her eyes. “It’s not the same,” she whined, pouting as she crossed her arms. “We used to hang out all the time. Now we barely see each other out of work now.”
It was true, Bickslow knew that. But for the most part, he just hadn’t really felt like he was missing anything. He’d had enough to deal with at home, and it wasn’t like he never saw his team anymore anyway. He saw them every damn day. Well, assuming he turned up to work. But, maybe having everyone around would be a good thing. Summer had officially finished the week before, but it was still hot as heck outside and Bickslow didn’t think anyone would object to going for a swim, especially now that the pool in their yard was finally usable (although Bickslow did wish it had been a few weeks earlier, when they’d first moved in).
Even then, maybe having something to celebrate would be good for him, too. It’d give him something else to think about, at least.
“Fine.” Bickslow sighed and dragged his hand down his face. “I’ll talk to Lucy about it, see if she wants to have a party, or whatever the fuck it is you guys want. No promises, though.”
Hey hey! I’m back again with some Izuocha for @fic-writer-appreciation‘s February Fic Writer Challenge Day Two! I’m excited to continue writing it ^^ I hope you enjoy!
***
Running a hand through his hair, Izuku approached Uraraka with as confident of a smile as he could make himself muster.
“U-Uraraka?” he greeted, and when Uraraka turned around, his face flushed a bright fuchsia.
She was so...pretty!
“Oh!” Uraraka said with a smile of her own as she made eye contact with him. “You’re in my class, right? Nice to meet you!”
