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rebelsandtherest · 1 year

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Frater Familias

Words: 5,719

Summary: Churchill lies, Singapore falls, an empire abandons his children in a sea of wolves. When their brother finds out, there will be hell to pay.In early 1942, Alfred Jones travels across the globe to save his baby brother and sister from the betrayal of their father. When Arthur Kirkland returns at long last, his eldest is waiting for him, ready to spill blood.

Warnings: Language, mentions of death and bodily injury.

Author’s Note: I kept things very vague to make it easier for myself, but this takes place not too long after the Battle of Coral Sea in May 1942.

You can also read on Ao3 if you prefer

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Alfred Jones hadn't wanted to kill his father this badly since 1781. Come to think of it, Alfred wasn't sure he'd ever wanted to kill his father as much as he did now.

Sure, he hadn't been pleased that President Roosevelt acquiesced to Britain's insistence on a Germany-first strategy. The scar of Pearl Harbor was still fresh and livid, and he was spoiling for a chance to hunt Kiko down personally. Even so, he'd kept his mouth diplomatically shut and had taken heart when Churchill assured him that British forces in the pacific would hold, that the ANZACs would have plenty of reinforcements to hold allied territories there.

That, as it turned out, had been a massive lie. Gargantuan. Colossal. Titanic, in fact. His father might as well have designed the ship himself, stuck his two youngest on board without lifeboats bound straight for an ice field, and stayed cozy in Belfast while Alfred broke his back feeding coal to the Carpathia in a blind, unplanned panic. Churchill fiddled while Singapore fell, and Father fiddled along with him.

"Where is he?" Alfred demanded, ignoring the guard at the entrance who was trying to slow him down."

"I'm sorry?" Asked the startled British soldier stationed at the war room door.

"Arthur Kirkland. Where is he?"

The soldier took a few tries to say, "General Kirkland hasn't yet arrived, sir."

"Fine. Which room will be his?"

"Sir, I'm so sorry, can I get your name, I'll need to ask–"

"Where?" Alfred demanded, and there was something in his too-perfect voice, his too-blue eyes, that made the soldier startle and point immediately down the hall.

"End of the hall, on the left."

Alfred stormed in that direction without a word. The soldier blinked a few times. A deer released from headlights, it took him a moment to get his bearings.

"Wait," he called after Alfred, quickly jogging after him. "Wait sir, you're not allowed to-" but Alfred was already inside, going around to sit in the officer's chair behind the empty letter desk. "Sir, the General won't be here for another five, six hours."

"Fine," Alfred said, and had this young Australian known him better, he would have known to be frightened by his stoic, collected anger. Facial expression unchanging, the American wheeled back in the chair and propped his feet on the desk. "I'll wait."

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There was quite a bit of hubbub around the base when the British entourage finally arrived. None of the humans here knew what Arthur was, but they did know he was a high-ranking General, so the arrival had caused quite a bit of fuss and bustle. Alfred remained in the office, unaffected. When he heard English accents appear down the hall, he closed his eyes and mentally braced himself. When he opened them again, the click-clack of English bootheels was just around the corner, and in seconds he was staring up at his father, England himself.

Arthur stopped short just inside the threshold of his office, flanked by two aides, one young and fresh-faced, the other brunet with a trim mustache.

"Alfred," he said plainly, as if he hadn't expected to see his eldest here, after everything, the 's glare was fixed solidly on Arthur, but he spared a dismissive glance at the humans. He returned his ire towards his father before he told the aides,

"You two, get out."

Arthur didn't even blink. The younger aide looked to his mustachioed companion for help.

"Sir," the elder man said, glancing diplomatically between Arthur and Alfred, whose crossed arms and lack of cover disguised whatever rank he might've been. "This office has been assigned to General Kirkland, I must insist that—"

"Yes, it has," Alfred said in a patronizing tone. "Now get out."

Bewildered, the aide looked to Arthur, but though the General's eyebrows had fallen in a dark look of annoyance, his eyes hadn't moved from the seething American before him.

"It's been a long journey, Hesten," Arthur said stiffly, "go find your lodgings." The younger aide immediately began to splutter some confusion, but his elder quickly shushed him and shepherded him out the door. "Close the door on your way out," Arthur instructed. The brunet man did, glancing fleetingly at Arthur and then at Alfred before the door clicked shut.

The walls were battle-thick concrete, and as the door shut, the sound of the outside hall faded into a dull ambiance.

"Of all the asinine American theatrics I've witnessed, Alfred, this must be among the worst."

"How dare you," Alfred spat.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said," Alfred yanked his feet off of his father's desk, not caring that he left scuff marks. He stood to his full height and god it had never felt so right to be taller than this cowardly, self-righteous excuse for a father, "how fucking dare you. Show up now? Of all times? Where were you?"

"Alfred," Arthur didn't have to physically roll his eyes for Alfred to hear the intent in his voice, "I did not ask for you to—"

"Where were you?" Alfred demanded, raising his voice louder than he'd intended. "Because I can tell you right now where you weren't."

"I'm not going to to stand here and allow you to lecture me in my own office—"

"By the time I got here, Jack had already died twice!" Alfred shouted. Arthur had been ready with a retort, but he stopped short as the 'twice' rang off the walls. "Zee was only alive by pure luck, stuck as a nurse on a doomed destroyer, blown up by so much shrapnel that by the time I got her to shore I thoughtshe was dead. And where were you?"

For a moment, silence was his only answer, father and son locked in a staring contest while Alfred took in loud, furious lungfuls of air.

"I realize you've only recently opened your eyes to the fact," Arthur said flatly, "but we are at war, Alfred. We all must make sacrifices."

"Sacrifices," Alfred scoffed, surprised they'd reached this point so quickly. "And who is it that decides what's worth sacrificing?"

"We are Nations," Arthur insisted. "Difficult decisions such as these are an unfortunate necessity of what we are, how we must conduct ourselves in times of—"

"They are your children, Arthur!" Alfred hadn't meant to call his father by his first name, and he hadn't meant his voice to crack like it had. "Damn the nations, damn Churchill, damn you, damn it all, they are your children!"

"They are my children," Arthur matched Alfred's volume, but kept a stern expression, "and they, along with the rest of my family, are at war."

"Fuck you!" Alfred shouted back, "Fuck you and this entire fucking family, Jack is barely over a century old, Zee even less so, they're babies, dad, infants! And you just fucking left them out here!"

"We've all seen war within our childhoods," Arthur snapped back, with a surprising amount of bite behind his words.

"With muskets, bows, and daggers, not this!" Alfred swept his hand as if to indicate the entire world. "Go to the artillery, go to the infirmary, go to the foxholes and tell me this war is like anything you or Ifaced as children. Jack's only recently got over the shellshock from the last time you left him to the wolves, and now this!" Alfred took sick satisfaction in seeing his father's face flinch.

"I've tried to shield them from it," Arthur bit back, "Just like I tried to shield you and Matthew when you were young, but it's never worked, not once. It's not worth lying to them."

"Lying to them about what? Your reinforcements? Their chance at survival once Churchill wrote them off?" Alfred demanded. He watched his father flinch again and hoped to god he was listening. He was aware that he was shouting loudly enough to be heard outside the office, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Let the humans know exactly what their general was—a callus empire, and an absent father. "Curtin was preparing a speech to brace his people for invasion, and how to break it to their children—their children!" the American spat. "Your son was deluded enough to believe he could fight them off alone, because what other choice did he have?" Arthur was emotionless. "Tell me! What other choice did either of them have? If I hadn't heard the rumors coming out of the pacific, what do you think would have happened?!"

"But you did hear them," Arthur said, voice straining to keep its composure. "And so your very complaint here is rendered moot-"

"Don't you go making this out to be my fucking responsibility," Alfred spat, coming around the desk to face his father directly, where no tip of Arthur's chin could hide how much his eldest towered over him, "don't you sit there and act all sanctimonious because I managed to get here at the eleventh hour. It wasn't your doing, it wasn't your plan. I'm here in spite of you, not because of you."

"And yet," Arthur wasn't actually looking at Alfred when he said it, straightening his shoulders to some invisible mirror, saving face as he always has when he said, "You are here, as am I, now."

"I was here before you had the decency to do your own duty as father," Alfred yelled, "I was here before the order reached the SecNav's desk. You were off in fuck knows where doing fuck knows what drinking tea farmed thousands of miles from your stupid cozy island, while I commandeered a ship to offer your children hope." Alfred glared, a thousand things he wanted to say simmering under the bonfire of anger. "I have a court martial waiting for me in Los Angeles," he confessed angrily. "They'll drop the case before I get home, once I've told the President about the hell you've left us here, but don't you dare act like my being here was part of any grand plan. They are your children, and you chose to abandon them. If I didn't know that it would fuck them over even more than you already have, I would've stuck a bowie in your liver the second you stepped through that door."

A long stretch of silence passed in between them, but it offered no resolution.

"Are you not my child, as well?" Arthur asked, venturing a glance at his eldest.

"I am," Alfred replied, glaring, "but none of us asked to be." When the words landed, Arthur's furious expression cracked and morphed through shockwaves of hurt. Alfred knew he'd hit his target, so he took a step closer. Quiter, but not quietly, he said,

"For the last century, I've looked on in envy at the father they had. A doting father, a loving father, a father who was there," Alfred pressed into his father's personal space, and Arthur was glaring up at him with a mix of hurt, anger, and trepidation writhing underneath his drawn brows. "Nothing at all like the man who paid humans to raise me. I thought you had changed. I've seen you change, become someone you never were for me, and I praised God and all his fucking angels that my brother and sister would be so lucky. It took him four kids, but Arthur Kirkland finally figured it out. Now it's all gone right out the window because his empire's gotten too big for his goddamn war," Alfred's fists were trembling with anger. He'd never said such things to his father in all his life, and he hadn't planned on saying them today. It was the memory of Jack's dead eyes, the tears of relief on Zee's bloodied cheeks, how thin and worn they'd both felt under the weight of his hugs, that dug up a protective sort of anger for them that he'd never felt for himself.

Arthur looked like he wanted to slap Alfred across the face. If he wasn't so completely dumbstruck, he probably would have.

"You are not going to do to them what you did to me," Alfred growled, getting right up in his father's face, "because if you do, I'll fucking kill you." With that, he stormed out of the office and slammed the door louder than a gunshot.

Arthur stood motionless for several long minutes afterwards, before slowly moving around his desk and gingerly lowering himself into his chair. At great length, he bent over his lap, ran a world-weary hand through his hair, and let out a shaking sigh.

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It felt as though the entire building was staring when Alfred left his father's office. He tried to ignore it, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers and trying to level his rapid breathing. God, he needed fresh air. He'd taken not even ten steps toward the exit before he came to a halt, faced with the last person he expected to see.

"Jack," he blurted, heart leaping into his throat. "How long have you—" Alfred stopped short, because it was clear enough from the boy's expression he'd been there more than long enough.

"I-I was just here to give him-" Jack looked down at his hands, and it was then that Alfred realized the teen was holding a dossier. "I heard dad got in this afternoon—since he's not been briefed on the–" his voice was steady, but he wasn't, swaying on his feet, hands making the folder wobble just slightly. Underfed, underslept, and overwrought, he looked like a stiff breeze might knock him offshore. "I mean, I thought I should be the one to tell him about everything, and you know how he likes having things written down- I didn't write all of it, but I wrote one of the reports, edited some of them, you know, included the things I thought he would find important, everything we were able to…" Jack trailed off, staring down at the folder in his hands, wondering if there'd been any point in putting it together. It wasn't as though the British Empire had any need for retrospectives on what was essentially a United States Navy rescue operation.

"I guess I just wanted to let him know I was alright," Jack muttered, almost to himself. He heard a sigh and looked up. Unfamiliar wrinkles cast shadows across Alfred's forehead, a mix of grief and pity and fading anger. The American reached under his glasses to rub at his eyes.

"C'mon, kid," he said behind his hand, voice hoarse from yelling and fatigue. "Let's get you outta here, aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I haven't been able to sleep much," Jack replied. They both had dark circles under their eyes.

"Fair enough. Any good place to hide around here? I nicked some of the old man's gin." Alfred shook what sounded like a partially empty bottle, and Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"He's going to notice that," he said, eyes flickering to his father's office. "Soon," he added.

"No he won't," Alfred used the bottle to wave Jack into step with him as he left their father to sulk alone. "He drinks rum when he knows he's fucked up. And the fact that he hasn't already come out here to search my pockets means he knows he fucked up."

Jack led Alfred out past the perimeter of the small base and up onto a small hill a few hundred meters from the beach. Though grassy and dusted in the shade of several short, scraggly trees, the area was still dusted with sand. It made a comfortable place for the pair to sit and stare out at the ocean, passing their father's gin back and forth until they were both tipsy enough to deal with what the day had wrought. The sun was hot on their backs as it tilted past afternoon an into a long autumn dusk.

"Did he really mean it?" Jack blurted, breaking the silence. Alfred looked over at him.

"Mean what?"

"I mean, when you said that Churchill planned to give up the… surely dad have to have known, right? Did he… I guess I just… did he really plan to do that? To take Churchill's side of things, if things got really bad?"

Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but quickly thought better of it. Things got 'really bad' a long time ago, kid, he'd almost said. Alfred wasn't willing to guess whether or not Arthur had really planned to abandon his youngest son and darling daughter to the fury of the Japanese military, if it had come to that. Deep down, past all his anger and resentment, even Alfred did not want to think of his father as a cruel man. Callous, yes, stupid, absolutely, but not the sort of man who would watch his children sink beneath the waves of invasion and remain unaffected.

Yet if Alfred's ships had not sailed swiftly enough, what would Arthur be doing at that moment? Alfred realized Jack was staring at him, eyes lost. He sighed.

"Dad is… a complicated man," Alfred told him lamely. "As far as fathers go—and never tell him I said this—he's not… the worst out there. But wars turn him into a moron, make him forget his human side. I think we all saw that well enough in '15." Jack looked away quickly, jaw clenching. Alfred was grateful that at least that he hadn't had to say Gallipoli to get his point across. "He's always been like this. It's nothing you did. It's just him being the dumbass he hides under all that 'keep calm and carry on' bullshit." He watched Jack's back for a moment. The teen fiddled with the sandy grass and found a pebble, flicked it down the hill and watched it trace a line in the sand.

"Always been like this?" Jack asked, and glanced back to Alfred, unable to hide his curiosity. Alfred actually laughed.

"God, kid, he used to be even worse. I mean, hell, he was still a fucken' pirate when I was a baby, he ever tell you that?"

"He what?" Jack's face grew into a wicked grin.

"Sure as shit! I still remember—I mean, not well, but I know he had this ludicrous red coat and earrings and a cutlass and everything. God knows what a pirate was doing with a baby."

"So what, did he take you out on the ship with him?" Jack was transported, trying to imagine Alfred as a baby, much less their stick-up-the-arse father as a pirate.

"That, I don't know. It was a long time ago, and I was really small. I do remember his ship, though, at least the one he had when I was a bit older." Alfred's smile faltered. "He'd be gone for years at a time, even decades. He'd come back unannounced, stay for a week, and then leave without saying goodbye. He did that because of a war. We'd always have a year or so of peace in between, and he'd stick around and be a decent dad, and then, boom, another war, and off he goes. Actually," Alfred chuckled, "I'm not sure he was ever not at war, when I was growing up, I think the letters just took a while to cross the Atlantic." he shrugged and looked over at Jack, who was frowning at him. It made him uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

"Listen, all I'm trying to say, is that he's always been like this. And he's gotten better—god, so much better, but this war…" Alfred began to say something, but came up short. He let out a breath with a shake of his head.

"It's different," Jack said quietly. All the nations knew it—even Jack, who was scarcely 150, could feel it.

"What he did to you and Zee is indefensible, in any century, in any war." Alfred said, eyes landing on the edge of a bandage peeking out from under Jack's sleeve. "I just want to make sure you understand, it's nothing you did, nothing Zee or anyone else did. It's just… dad." It was an unsatisfactory, unjust answer to the horrors that had unfolded in the last six months. Alfred knew it wouldn't wipe away the uncertainty in Jack's guileless face, but maybe, over time, it would temper his resilience to exist as the son of a deeply flawed man.

"Right," Jack said softly, sounding more thoughtful than was his wont. He picked at his fingernails, lost to his own musings for a while. In the quiet that followed, Alfred realized how exhausted he was, and let his eyes drift shut, enjoying the feel of the sun warming his face in flickering patterns as it twinkled through the leaves.

"So wait," Jack broke the silence once again, "if dad was a pirate, does that mean that the King sent out men to hunt him down? His own nation?"

"Oh, man," Alfred sat up, reaching for the gin, which was closer to Jack. "Gimme that. I can't tell this story as good as uncle Rhys, but I'll try."

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Though she was probably a fiercer fighter than virtually anyone in their family, barring perhaps Alfred or Arthur himself, in wartime, Zee's sex relegated her to hospitals and infirmaries rather than battle stations. It'd been this way in the last war, and she found she preferred it. War was death, and if she had to watch her people die, it was far better, she thought, to see them die after doing her damnedest to save them.

She and Jack had their separate forces, but the two had clung close together as the situation in the Pacific soured. She'd been aboard the destroyer for a little over a week by the time the Americans arrived, but she hadn't had a chance to see the Yankee himself before a Japanese bomb blew her floating hospital to bits. It had in fact been Alfred who spotted her bobbing in the surf and dragged her to shore, later admonishing her with a wobbling voice that it was the worst kind of way to say hello to one's estranged brother. Left with open wounds and a dislocated shoulder, she'd been brought down the coast to the base where Jack was holed up, becoming the first female resident of its sparsely-appointed infirmary.

In the short, hellish time that Alfred had fought alongside her, he'd seen his sister absorb all kinds of pain with the iron-willed composure of their father, but after a thousand small cuts, the shoulder is what did her in. She'd vomited and promptly passed out when the medics had set it. They'd given her morphine when she woke up, but it had left her deliriously nauseous. Unfortunately, when they'd taken her off it, the pain kept her awake so long she'd cried, which had startled Jack so badly he begged her to take the morphine until the swelling went down. She'd capitulated, but the nausea had kept her abed.

Alfred rapped his knuckles on the open doorframe before ducking in. Tired brown eyes squinted open to see him, and she grunted to acknowledge him.

"Hey Kiwi," Alfred said softly, unconsciously slouching to make himself smaller, quieter. He unfolded a canvas chair that had been stashed in a corner and sat near the head of her rickety hospital bed. "How're you holding up in here?"

"This place fuckin smells," she complained, voice gravelly and hoarse. "Or maybe that's just you." Alfred snorted.

"Feeling better, I see," he smirked. Zee sighed, using her right hand to manually adjust her left arm, which was strapped to her torso in a sling.

"If one more person talks about how I'm feeling, I'll vomit again."

"Alright," Alfred lifted his hands, "I won't ask. Jack said you'd convinced them to let you go tomorrow?" Hearing this, Zee's eyes opened a little wider, and she turned her head towards Alfred, one eye obscured by her curly hair that was pressed against the pillow.

"You've talked to Jackie today?" she seemed surprised.

"Yeah," Alfred frowned at her, "have you not?"

"This morning I did, but dad said no one could find him," she said. It was Alfred's turn to be surprised.

"You've talked to dad?"

"Yeah, 'bout an hour ago, give or take." She watched Alfred's face with catlike attention. "Dad mentioned he'd spoken with you. What did you say?" Alfred couldn't help it when he let out a snort.

"Spoke with me, huh."

"What did you say?" Zee asked again. "I haven't been coddled like that in thirty years. And what with how he's been…lately," Zee's eyes were distant for a few seconds before she shook herself and looked up expectantly at her brother. Alfred drew in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair before letting out a long sigh.

"He's been acting like a shit father, you and I both know that," he began, picking at a stray thread in his sleeve so he wouldn't have to make eye contact, "I just told him so."

"What, just… Just told him that?" Zee was incredulous, "and he listened?"

"Apparently," Alfred demurred.

"Christ," Zee let her head fall back into her pillow, staring up at the ceiling. "That must be nice." Alfred would've had to have been deaf not to hear the bitterness in her tone. It made him angry at their father all over again. Zee had always been the apple of Arthur's eye; that he had ignored even sweet Eleanor so profoundly was a testament to how low he'd stooped.

"He doesn't listen to me because he sees me as his equal, if that's what you're thinking," Alfred cut in. "He listens to me because I was his biggest fuck up, and he doesn't want to fuck up more than he already has with you two." Zee had no immediate response to that, and continued to stare up at the ceiling, swollen arm rising and falling with every breath. The wall lamp shone through her half-full IV bottle, casting abstract patterns of light that morphed gently against her hair.

"Well," Zee said at length, still staring at the ceiling, "I guess the coddling is nice." Quieter, hoarser, she muttered, "Could've used a few more fucking troops."

"He'll pull his head out of his ass and remember how to be a good father, eventually," Alfred told her, not really knowing if he had that kind of faith in their dad, "in the meantime, I got you. Both of you. You need something, anything, even if it's just yelling at Admiral Lord Father again, you tell me." Zee smiled at the sardonic title.

"Thanks, Yankee," she said, voice thicker than before. He'd never heard her use the moniker so affectionately. "I… might take you up on that."

"'Course. Us victims of the Arthur Kirkland School of Parenting gotta stick together." Zee let out a laugh that quickly turned into a hiss when it jostled her arm.

"I don't suppose you could get rid of this goddamn morphine and convince my arm to heal, could you?" She asked him, blinking away tears of pain.

"I will happily yell at the Empire till the cows come home, but even I can't work miracles, Kiwi-girl."

"Damn," Zee grit out. Alfred glanced at her shoulder, and then out the window; it was getting late.

"We'll have you outta here in no time. But I think it's about time you got some sleep."

"I've been trying," Zee huffed, clearly frustrated with the entire situation. She glanced at the empty glass on the stool by her bed. "Would more water be too much of a miracle?" Alfred smiled.

"Course not." He plucked up the glass and left the room, returning with not one but two full glasses of water, which he deposited on her bedside stool. While Zee gratefully took a few large gulps, he dug around in his pockets and produced a few squares of Red Cross-issue chocolate. He waved them at Zee. "Motivation for you to rest up and get off that morphine," he said, setting them beside the water glasses. She looked at them hungrily but warily, obviously still nauseous.

"Do you know how to motivate with anything besides food?" She teased.

"Food is an excellent motivator. Now get some sleep," he bent to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. "And don't tell Jack I gave you chocolate, I'm not made of the stuff."

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Alfred didn't see much of his father in the following days. When he did, it was always from a distance, and generally one of them would make themselves scarce before they crossed paths. He heard by way of mouth that the General was making something of an apology tour with his two youngest, or at least as close to apologies as the British Empire was capable of crafting. Zee left the hospital but kept the sling, and was, apparently, coddled quite fiercely by her prodigal guardian and given free run of the base, much to the discomfort of the men. She milked Arthur's guilt for all it was worth, and Alfred could tell it would be some time before she'd give him the forgiveness he hoped for.

Jack received similar coddling once Arthur tracked him down. Unlike his sister, Jack seemed eager to receive the affection and make amends, putting the harms of days past as far away from his mind as possible. Jack had always been trusting and kind, though Alfred didn't think Arthur deserved it. Jack was young, baby fat not yet making way for the angled jaw that promised to fill in as he grew more and more to look like his father. Even so, Alfred could still see the shadows that clung to the boy's features when Arthur wasn't looking. They made him look far older than he was.

Throughout it all, Arthur avoided speaking with his eldest son with obvious intentionality. Alfred didn't plan on stopping him. His anger towards his father was still not completely slaked, and it wouldn't do anyone any good to butt heads now that the Empire and his children were negotiating apologies.

Still, Jack had begun sneaking looks over his shoulder at Alfred whenever Arthur suggested a new plan of attack or promised reinforcements. It took a few times for Alfred to realize that Jack was looking to him not just for reassurance, but for a second opinion—for approval.

He had a feeling he and his father would argue about that, some day.

"But they're both okay? I mean, as okay as can be?" Matt's voice was tinny, worried words garbled somewhat by the thousands and thousands of miles of cables that brought his voice to Alfred's ear from the other side of the globe.

"Yeah, they'll be alright. I think it's going to take them a little longer to heal than normal, but they'll be alright."

"Good. And what about you?" Alfred wanted to tease his brother for how mother-hennish he sounded, but separated by so much distance, Matt's concern was a welcome comfort.

"Oh, I'm fine," Alfred shrugged, resisting the urge to rub at the spot by his collarbone where the lingering ache of Pearl Harbor had taken root. "I'm just glad I got here in time."

"Me too," Matt said darkly. A moment of silence passed before the Canadian added, "I'm not… happy you were dragged into this war, Al, but I'm not unhappy either." Alfred clenched his teeth and sighed out through his nose, fighting off a flare of anger towards their father.

"Well," He joked, because what else could he say? "Someone's gotta keep this family kicking, right?"

Arthur had been on base for a little over a week when Alfred went to the Officer's mess to meet his siblings for breakfast, as had become their habit, only to find both missing. Alfred had already finished his eggs and half of his pancakes when Jack and Zee arrived, Jack looking crestfallen, Zee furious. They slid into the bench opposite Alfred.

"Dad's gone," Zee said bluntly.

"Wait, what?" Alfred frowned, stopping mid-bite.

"He left—early this morning, apparently," Jack griped. "Didn't even tell anyone. Didn't even say goodbye to Zee, much less me!"

"He left this for you," Zee said, reaching across the table to give him a small envelope.

"Oh, god," Alfred groaned, taking it. The Anzacs watched with interest while he opened it and scanned its contents. It was a small notecard, but with the sun shining on it over Alfred's shoulder, Zee could see that it was packed with text, their father's neat handwriting compressed into a wall of ink.

"What's it say?" Jack asked eagerly. Alfred's expression remained unmoving as he read. At length, he took a stiff inhale and slid the note into his breast pocket.

"Says I owe him a bottle of gin," he said. Zee looked at him quizzically, but when Alfred volunteered no further information, she shook her head and stood.

"Jackie, d'you want tea?"

"Nah, I'm good," Jack waved her off, still sulking. He began to pick at the wooden edge of the table, prying off a small splinter of wood and flicking it away. Alfred watched the sad, annoyed tilt of Jack's eyebrows and wondered if this was how he had looked, a lonely child left on the shores of Virginia.

"Hey, don't be so glum," he told Jack, "like I said, war makes him act stupid. He won't be like this forever." And hopefully, it would not be years or decades. "In the meantime," Alfred flipped his plate around and handed Jack the fork. "I'll be here as long as you need me, for whatever you need"

"Really?" Jack took the fork gratefully, and surveyed the two pancakes left on his brother's plate.

"Really really." After a little hesitation, Jack managed a smile. He used the fork to give a playful, grateful salute and dug in, immediately transported from his sadness by the contraband maple syrup. Zee soon returned with her tea and lounged against Jack while Alfred sipped at his coffee. While the troops ran drills and the officers ferried new intelligence to and fro, the three siblings, long separated by the world's largest ocean, shared the first of many morning reprieves together, the faults of their father temporarily forgotten.

#aph america #hws america #aph england #hws england #aph australia #hws australia #aph new zealand #hws new zealand #aph canada #hws canada #historical hetalia #hetalia #my writing #my fanfic #fanfic

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waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle · 10 months

Text

Over my head (Miguel ‘o’ Hara x Reader)

Chapter 4

Wc:1.9k

Tw: mentions of blood

Themes: ✎slow burn ( I think)

Mutual pining

✎office romance (¿)

Hidden romance

✎Smut available as story progresses.

Dom Miguel x sub/bratty reader

✎Stubborn, Ill tempered Miguel.

✎ Angelic reader .

It girl reader.

✎I try to be as accurate as possible.

English is not my first language so bare with me.

✎badass stoic x sweet empath.

Og spanish speaker so be prepared for steamy dialogue :3

Here’s the master list for previous or future chapters.

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-"Miguel!"- Your body couldn't help but call out his name after seeing such a scene.

A crimson gaze met yours , his face froze as if he'd been caught red handed.

-"Greetings."-He replied as he could since blood was cascading over the corner of his mouth.-"If you excuse me i'll be on my way."- Miguel turned his back and tried to walk away before your voice interrupted him.

-"Are you crazy?! you're losing a stupid amount of blood, what even happened to you?

-"Well i've clearly been better"-He noted in a sarcastic tone.-"But if you must know ive just been flung around by some villains, i could've left less beaten up but i didn't want to interrupt the party they organized for you.”

-"Miguel that's ridiculous , just look at you.-You pressed an open gash on his neck to which he quickly winced to.-"If you needed assistance you should've just called."

In a moment lyla appeared and sat on his shoulder.

-"That's what i told him, we should let him suffer for being so hard headed.”-Lyla joked.

Miguel knotted his eyebrows and shooed her of his shoulders trying to maintain the last string sanity that allowed him to keep a cordial conversation while in extreme pain.

-"come with me, let me tend to your injuries"

-"Thanks for the offered but i can stand a punch, go back to the party now."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes incredulous of this mans priorities.

-"You're literally about to collapse and all you care about is a stupid party?!"-You groaned out at him in hopes that he gets the severity of the matter at hand.

-"Its not just a party."-He expressed with seriousness.-"I haven't seen my spider people that happy in a while, they're joyful to have you here and seem to trust you already. you wouldnt understand but they need that morale to withstand the burden of their responsibilities.So please go back and keep them company ; i can handle myself."

-"What about you?" You asked gleeful after hearing the first kind words Miguel has said to you.

-"What about me?"

-"How do you feel about having me here?"

Miguel looked back at lyla for any indication on how he should respond but she just raised her shoulders at him.

-"Well i certainly feel ... happy?"-He responded with awkwardness so you knew he was lying, catching up onto your disapproving gaze he finally answered with the truth.-With confidence i can say i'm relieved by having you here.

As you grinned in satisfaction with his answer you remembered he was on the brink of falling over, which by the way is very unprofessional on your behalf, you couldn't help it , you found yourself lost in conversation. To convince Miguel to allow to get himself treated you asked dad bod peter to send the spiders some beer and it was as if you never left.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

With some struggle you managed to get Miguel to go to the infirmary, you indicated him to sit down on stool near your desk.

His big figure almost didn't fit on the stool, his eyes followed you around the room as you woke up your bots.

-“You've fixed this place up nicely.”-He commented lookin at the fresh tulips on the desk while the room lit up with painting prints and the floor gleamed with beautiful carpets.

-“Thank you, I never had the chance to decorate an infirmary so I wanted to put things that could make my patients feel happy or at ease.”-You said looking at your hologram table while viewing his medical chart to see any allergies or pre existing conditions. - Nino can you run a CT scan and an MRI , Kiko be a dear and takes his vitals and oxygen saturation levels while I go grab some tools to clean his face right up.

While you went to the back room for sanitizing materials lyla looked at him funny seeing him in his little stool waiting to be treated.

-“I should ask her to bring a tweezer to see if maybe she’ll do you a favor and clean up those bushy eyebrows of yours.”-Said the artificial intelligence while he sits up straight in his chair clearly wishing he wasn’t in such a vulnerable position.

-“If you don’t close that pixel sized mouth of yours I’m gonna ask spider byte to make you bald.”- He retorted with a straight face to which lyla just responded by sticking up her middle finger and vanishing in the air.

Soon you walked back into the room with your lab coat and your hair tied up in a bun while holding some materials.

-“Are you ready for this , big boy? It’s gonna sting a bit so tell me if you need me to slow down.”- You said as you put on your latex gloves.-“My bots are gonna take a while to take your tests so after I finish cleaning you up they’ll tell me what’s up with you.”

-“I already told you I’m fine Y/n.”- Miguel hasn’t stepped in an infirmary in a long time , so he feels very out of place.

-“We’ll see about that, I’d sit down to treat you but all id see is your chest.”-You giggled.-“Not that I’m complaining though!” -You watched as Miguel raised and eyebrow and you could swear you saw the corner of his mouth go up.-“Wow peter was right, you really don’t have a sense of humor.”

-“I Do have a sense of humor is just that -ow!”-Miguel jumped as he felt the sting of the cotton swab cleaning his cheek

-“I’m sorry , I’m sorry I’ll be more gentle.”- You brought your face closer to his while being more gentle with the swab.

Miguel suddenly felt heat rushing to his cheeks he didn’t know if it was because your face was just mere inches from his or because when you noticed you were hurting him you truly cared for his comfort and started to be more gentle.

All of a sudden one of your bots started ringing like and alarm.

-“WARNING HEART RATE ELEVATED TO 113 BPM.”- Said kiko while spinning ad flashing red lights.

- “That’s strange.” -You comment as you quickly bandage his face up so you can investigate the reason of his quick heart rate.

-“That machine must be broken.”- Said Miguel a little embarrassed while hunching up his shoulders ,you just gave him an unconvinced glare.

-“Nino can you give me the results of the scan please.”

-“CT and MRI indicate ribs number 6 and 7 are fractured, MRI reveals no damage done to blood vessels or lungs.”- Said Nino unconcerned.

Your jaw dropped to the floor while you looked over at the man that treating broken ribs like a stubbed toe.

-“Miguel why didn’t you tell me you had broken ribs!”- You yelled out in shock someone could sit still with broken ribs.

-“I didn’t know, why are you mad at me? I’m the one with broken ribs.”- He noted while arching a brow.

-“Are you dumb?! You can puncture your lungs and god forbid provoke some interior hemorrhage. Take your shirt off right now!”

Miguel was about to scold you for calling him dumb but was quickly fluttered by you requesting him to take his shirt off.

-“What?”- He replied dumbfounded

-“Take your shirt off so I can examine you , quickly.”

“Oh maybe you are dumb Miguel ” he thought to himself for thinking about other things when you asked him to take his shirt off , he quickly pressed some buttons on his watch and in a few seconds his bare torso was revealed to you. You couldn’t help but blush as you saw such a shredded torso with beautiful sculpted shoulders, you knew he was your boss but goddam this man never skips arm day. You quickly shake your head trying to get rid of those teenage girl like thoughts and start to press on the bruised skin on top of his ribs to examine the situation.

-“Does it hurt much?”

-“Nope.”

-“What about now?” You say as you apply some pressure on the affected area.

-“Auugh.”- He groaned as he winced.-“That trick of yours is getting old.”

Miguel glanced over at your direction noticing you had a quite worried face , as soon as you noticed his stare you quickly gave him a fake smile. -“I think it’s quite funny, wait here I’ll get some pain medication and a rib splint.”

You bolted to the storage room and back and started to load the syringe.

-“I can assure you this won’t hurt much , I have the gentlest hands in the business you know?”-You bragged while squatting while injecting the fluid into the tender spot in his ribs.- “If you feel any type of discomfort please let me know Miguel , you shouldn’t hide and injury like this I’m glad I caught you sneaking off. People depend on you , the spider society needs you in the best condition you can be. Even so regardless of who you are you should always take care of yourself.”

Miguel grinned taking advantage of the fact that your sight was straight on his ribs, he was truly moved by your words , they seemed sincere in his ears, he usually didn’t trust people this rapidly but to him you yelled out trustworthiness. He also didn’t want to admit that your proximity and care was making him feel some kind of way he quickly wanted to bury those thoughts in the back of his head. But there was a question pestering him so he gave into his desires and grabbed you by the wrist so he would get your attention.

You quickly looked up at him , your doe eyes looking up at him with innocent confusion made his his throat stiffen up.

-“Why do you care so much about me, after all we only met yesterday.” He questioned getting lost in your gaze.

-“You seem like a good person , you also seem like a dutiful man plus you really care about your workers . You seem to have the courage other people seem to lack. In summary for the moment you’re on my good side , let’s hope you stay that way buddy. But even if you weren’t a good person in my perception, you’re still a person who’s hurt and needs help , that’s enough for me to give my all in treating them.”- You smiled at him hoping your answer was good enough for him while returning to inject the fluid in various points of his ribs.

Miguel felt content with your answer which allowed him to be more relaxed in your presence after all he felt uncomfortable being seen so vulnerable , he was used to acting the part of the tough one.

-“Don’t call me buddy. I am your boss.”- He joked trying to switch the mood.

-“My bad Mr ‘o’ Hara. I’ll put on the brace splint now. ” You chimed as you stood between his right leg and leaned down to apply the splint trying to end this procedure as soon as possible so you could get out of this compromising position.

As you were almost done applying the splint you and Miguel heard a drunk voice come closer while the door handle moved , both of your eyes met in fear that someone would see you and misinterpret the situation.

-“y/n!!!! Are you here???? I’m coming innnnnnnn……”

A/n: I’m sorry for the delay I’ve been busy with work 😭 but I’m really happy with the way this chapter turned out.

#miguel o'hara #mutual pining #office romance #miguel x reader #hurt/comfort #smut available as story progresses #secret romance #pls read #spiderman #across the spiderverse #fanfic #pls like #comments are appreciated #hope you enjoy #atsv #atsv miguel #slowly but surely #SoundCloud

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applbottmjeens · 11 months

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Sgt. Annabelle "Gremlin" Pham

AKA: Annie (Graves), Belle, Kit, Grem, "GET THIS THING OFF OF ME!", "Little Monster" (Graves)

Blood type: O Positive

Age:

23 (Modern Warfare, 2019),

26 (Modern Warefare 2, 2022),

27 (Present, Modern Warfare 3, 2023)

Height: 4'11

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Asian/Pacific Islander (Vietnamese + Filipino)

Languages Spoken: English, Tagalog, Vietnamese, Chinese, Spanish

Religion: Catholic

Marital Status: Single (MW1-2), Complicated (MW3)

Faceclaim: Janella Salvador

Family:

Isabella Reyes - Maternal grandmother (deceased)

Cpt. Francisco "Capitan Kiko" Delgado - Paternal grandfather (deceased)

Phạm Ngọc Anh - Paternal grandmother (alive)

Phạm Vinh Trường / Thomas Pham - Father (alive)

Phạm Vũ / David Pham - Uncle (alive)

Maria Soledad Pham née Delgado - Mother (alive)

Ryan Joseph "RJ" Pham - brother (alive)

CHILDREN (non canon)

Spc. Sylas Thomas "Tommy" Pham/ Phạm Teo Sỹ / "SAINT"/ (ACES AU)

Phillip Fernando Graves II / "Junior" / Ace (ACES AU)

Affiliates:

TASKFORCE 141:

BRAVO 0-6 / Cpt. John Price

WATCHER-1 / Kate Laswell

BRAVO 0-7 / Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley

BRAVO 7-1 / Sgt. John "Soap" MacTavish

BRAVO 2-6 / Sgt. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

ECHO 0-1 /Lt. Isobel "Medusa" Williams (@gipsyavnger)

ECHO 1-1 / Sgt. Maj. Hannah "Sparrow" Clayton (@revnah1406)

2ND COMMANDO REGIMENT : (@kaitaiga)

Alyssa "Aly" Martinez (@alypink)

TANGO 0-1 / Cpt. Lachlan Jones

LOS VAQUEROS:

TANGO 2-1 / Sgt. Damien Whitlock (what're YOU doing here?!)

Col. Alejandro Vargas, Sgt. Maj. Rodolfo Parra, Jesus "Chuy" Ordaz

SHADOW COMPANY (QUEEN OF HEARTS AU + MW3):

Comd. Phillip Graves, Ms Sgt. Shane Sparks (formerly), Rozlin "Rose" Helms (formerly). Velikan, SO. Marcus "Lerch" Ortega

Annabelle Pham was born in San Jose, California and raised in an Asian immigrant household in South San Francisco. Growing up working class, her parents encouraged her to pursue her education while also helping raise her sickly younger brother, RJ. Playing softball and being a bit of a rebel, despite her shortcomings, Annabelle had the opportunity to attend an Ivy league college on a partial scholarship, which she rejected after her father's restaurant was vandalized and robbed.

Rather than use the money for school, she pushed her family to use it to repair their restaurant. Annabelle would choose to attend a 2 year college in a CTE program since it was more affordable, working part time in her family's restaurant while she searched for new employment.

While job searching, she became curious about the recruiters office in her neighborhood, and next thing she knew, she was in the army (much to her mother and father's disappointment.)

At some point, then Private Annabelle "Kit" Pham would meet CIA Station Chief Kate Laswell while fighting alongside SAC/SOG officer Alex Keller. Impressed by the young woman's resolve and improvisation, Laswell would choose Anna as one of the three women she'd first suggest to join Taskforce 141 to John Price.

While hiding from enemy forces who'd kidnapped her in a foreign city, Annabelle's quick thinking kept her alive while her teammates were delayed on their rescue.

Anna got her callsign "Gremlin" from her unpredictable and unhinged behavior thanks to her fellow Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. Hiding in walls, crawling in vents and ambushing enemies easily thanks to her small stature and the old fashioned element of surprise.

Smart, resourceful and good with her hands, she's a loyal friend and a cautious person whose instincts are good if they aren't clouded by her own feelings. Anna is a hopeless romantic who wears her heart on her sleeve, which can be a good and a bad thing...Especially when a certain Commander seeks to exploit it.

#mw2 #modern warfare 2 #call of duty #annabelle kit pham #mw2 oc #modern warfare oc #taskforce 141 #call of duty fanart

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saveme-storybrooke-potc · 10 months

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Hophie Headcanons

Starting With the Events AFTER One True King

now ik that in book 6 Sophie felt that being Dean of evil was unimportant to her, but I'd like to think that now that she's dating Hort and she's accepting his love for her that the two took a 6-month 'honeymoon' (not really one Sophie just wanted to do something with Hort for them to bond as lovers) before one day they burst into the school demanding for their jobs back.

Also on their vacation Sophie helped Hort cope and heal with the fact that he is no longer part man-wolf and they started doing workout routines together (Something Hort wanted to do so he could be strong and protect Sophie) and beauty routines (something Sophie wanted to do because she wants them looking young and evil forever)

Also Hort helped Sophie because she had a lot of nightmares about his 'death'

And because they have their old jobs back they're menaces to the students (I love Hort's snarky comments he always made throughout the series and I NEED that)

They have matching pajamas

Sophie got Hort frog pj's for his 17th birthday (he almost cried)

Sophie always asks for Hort's opinion on her outfits for each day

They always eat meals together, even if one is working late the other will bring the lunch/dinner to their office and they'll eat and talk for hours

Usually if they get into fights Hort is the first to apologize (even if it wasn't his fault) but sometimes Sophie will apologize and make him a cake

Hort writes bad poetry but Sophie secretly loves it

A lot of Hort's students flirt with Hort even though they know he's with Sophie and she gets jealous of it (this starts one of the fights that Sophie apologizes first)

Hort started to open up more to Sophie about his family and she sometimes talks about hers too

every year when they do Secret Santa's with their friends (Hester, Anadil, William, Bogden, Tedros, Agatha, Beatrix, Kiko) they always cheat to make sure that they get each other for Secret Santa's and always act surprised when they give each other the gifts (their friends are always suspicious of them)

Hort writes Sophie bad poetry that she pretends to hate but secretly loves

They go to balls as often as they could

Hort always makes Sophie her favourite breakfast in the mornings and she always makes his lunch, even if she does burn it sometimes, he still eats it

When Tagatha had children they were made the godparents

that also got Hort and Sophie thinking about kids

they send each other letters each class to tell the other how much they miss each other (their students are either disgusted or find it cute)

Sophie is a terrible singer, and Hort knows it, but he still loves hearing her sing

Hort will leave Sophie flowers in her office every morning and it will always be her favourite (roses)

Sophie secretly loves Hort's little comic of them as Bort and Lophie

Sophie calls Hort: her weasel, froggy, her prince, the beast, Horty, Hort, darling, sweetie

and if anyone tries to call him any of them (besides Hort) she'll curse them

Hort calls Sophie: my queen, Soph, my love, and Sophie

While Hort grades papers and Sophie's with him she'll doodle random things on his hand

Hort doesn't like parties, so whenever it's his birthday Sophie makes him his favourite breakfast and they celebrate it together alone

But for Sophie's birthday he always makes sure to get her a big birthday party, But Sophie always tells him that she'd be happy with something small with him

Sophie taught Hort how to french kiss

Some people still pick on Hort (especially the other teachers) and Sophie will always stand up for him

a lot of the teachers HATE Sophie's changes to the Evil school (which she had to redo after they took down her ideas but now they're a little less Sophie) and try to argue with her about it but Hort stands up for her and is always supportive of the ideas

Sometimes they'll cuddle for hours and not say anything and that's all they need

Hort proposed to Sophie when they turned 18 (it wasn't easy either there was so many interruptions)

#the school for good and evil #the school for good and evil headcanons #hophie headcanons #bort and lophie #hort of bloodbrook #sophie of woods beyond #sophie of gavaldon #hort scouire #hort x sophie #sophie x hort #earl cave #sophia anne caruso #the sge #the sge headcanons #ships #good and evil #evers and nevers #i love them so much #if you have any ideas tell me and i'll add them

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nenan · 1 year

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by Monika Mogi for OfficeKiko

#monika mogi #monimogi #office kiko #officekiko

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betbeton · 2 years

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𓆸 Orectolobus Wardi

Haitani Ran × Reader

Warnings - Stalking, Implied/Referenced Gang Activities, Anxiety

Note - Brief mention of p*rn magazines nothing explicit just teens being gross

·GN Reader·

·A/N - does this count as a dark ran or an obsessed ran?·

Part 3 - Part 5

・❥・ Masterlist

The morning after witnessing the pair of boys standing outside Takemichi's home was tense to put it lightly. Despite breakfast going off without a hitch and his parent's even bidding you two a cheery goodbye as you left the home, the ever impending sense of dread clawing at your throat wouldn't let up.

Each breath of air that filled your lungs felt thick as if it were trying to strangle you where you stood. Back ridged as you walked beside the blonde who was rattling on about how he was happy to finally introduce you to Naoto and actually have a solid support team of people who knew his secret. Head darting to gaze over your shoulder the moment you entered the shopping center you were to meet Naoto at, eyes widening as two heads of multi-coloured hair bobbed within the thick crowd of people before disappearing from your sight. Hastening your pace you reached a hand out to grip onto Takemichi's sleeve as you urged him along hoping your mind had just been playing tricks on you. The relief that flooded your panicked mind when you two entered the arcade and Takemichi herded you towards a short boy, who you assumed was Naoto, giving a brief introduction before cutting to the chase when he noticed your frequent glances at the entrance.

"Something up, L/N?"

Blinking your eyes in panic at being caught before relaxing them back to their normal bored state fixing your gaze on the pair of boys standing before you.

"No, I apologize for acting odd."

The laughter that tugged from the blonde brought a warm rush of embarrassment surging through your body, thankfully it was hidden behind your expressionless face.

"No apology needed, I just wanted to make sure you were okay "

The sincerity behind his words caught you off guard as you darted your gaze to the side fixating on a wall to avoid the good natured grin splitting his face. Though brief the exchange between you and Takemichi had broken some unspoken barrier that had been built between you and Naoto, the dark haired boy sharing what Takemichi had tasked him with and his determination to become a police officer. The fact he was so resolute and seemingly happy with his set path in life was foreign to you, having spent your entire life playing a morbid game of house with your parent's. Every action carefully curated, every word carefully chosen to avoid punishment. The conversation had your mind wandering to what you would choose to pursue if given the choice, after all you were sixteen almost legally an adult. Yet you had never explored who or what you intended to be when you were grown, always allowing yourself to be tugged in whatever direction your Mother had wished. A hand clapping on your shoulder drew you from your thoughts as Takemichi grinned at you.

"Wanna go hang out with the gang? Naoto has to leave, but we can still hang out if you don't have plans."

Brining a hand up to grasp his wrist you smoothed your fingers over his skin as your eyes darted to avoid direct eye contact, as a small nod bobbled your head. When his hand left your shoulder your own replaced it trying to smooth away the odd stomach churning feeling physical contact brought your body. As you two bid Naoto farewell you would have sworn on your beloved Kiko that you saw that braid wearing delinquent and his accomplice staring at you from a restaurant table across from the arcade as you and Takemichi walked away. Somewhere along wandering the streets beside your new found friend you had deduced you two were headed to someone named Yamagishi's home. Though for some reason Takemich seemed a little reluctant to actually go after a brief payphone call to ensure the other boy was home, but with a few minutes of contemplation he gave a shrug and dragged you along to Yamagishi's home. The sickening feeling of being in yet another semi-normal home brought a nausea to your body that you had never felt before, even the messy room you were now sat in a stark reminder that your own life despite being cushy as your peers call it was a far cry from a life worth living.

The glasses wearing boy had a concerning mischievous grin on his face from the moment he had opened the door and spotted you, stating that he had the perfect thing to initiate the school weirdo into their gang. Despite Takemichi adamantly refusing stating it was a horrible idea and that the other boy was the one being a weirdo it hadn't deterred him as he ordered you two to sit down in his messy room as he searched for something underneath his bed. Popping up with a look akin to an excited dog Yamagishi plopped down the thing he had held in his hands onto your lap. Hands reaching out to grasp it as it threatened to slid off your folded legs onto the floor your eyes darted down to gaze at the cover ... which was covered in a scantily clad woman. Eyes widening you stiffly held out the magazine towards Takemichi silently pleading for him to take it from you as embarrassment coursed through your body. Your actions only dragged a fit of laughter from the boys in front of you after they exchanged glances between themselves and the magazine. Shaking the magazine in the air you tried shoving it into Yamagishi's hands when he plopped onto the floor only for him to take it and open it before turning the book to flash the page at you, it was a woman tied in a precarious position while clad in only a bikini. Hands coming up to cover your face more laughter bounced about the room as you mumbled out an apology to the picture for even gazing at it.

After that hectic situation the three of you had settled down and watched some anime the two seemed rather invested in, it was about pirates from what you had gathered. The time for Takemich and you to head to your respective homes arrived far too quickly for your liking. Bidding him and his friend a goodnight you briskly walked down the path to avoid being home after curfew, the joy filling you body over finally having good stories to whisper to Kiko as you replaced the aubergine slice in her tank had you forgetting about your earlier paranoia. It was truly unfortunate, maybe if you had been paying attention you might have noticed the extra sets of footsteps following you down the quiet rode towards your home, or felt the angry stare searing a hole into the back of your head. Slowing to a sluggish walk you heaved a sigh of relief when an empty driveway came into view, the realization you parents had went on their business trip without waiting to bid you farewell an immense relief. As you unlocked your front door a large hand smacked onto the doorframe beside your head, a harsh solid object digging into your back as a voice cooed out right beside your ear.

"Not so fast. I have some questions for you."

The panic that shook your body was enough to make your vision blot out into a pitch black nightmare infused hell scape. An incessant beeping roused you as a hand swung to smack against your alarm clock signalling it was time to face yet another day, though the pitter patter of little feet and a small body jumping up onto your bed as it dropped to lay on your stomach brought a smile to your stoic face.

"Morning, Ren."

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani x y/n #ran haitani #ran tokyo revengers #tokyo rev ran

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