#and like. it fucking sucks. but sparrow loved his kids so much he was willing to destroy himself for them

[kaseyskat]

also i swear to god people better use some fucking media literacy with this episode like i swear if i see anyone being mean to sparrow it's on SIGHT

#dndads spoilers #kasey rambles #dndads #sparrow oak garcia #i will fucking fight im so serious #knowing that the choice was literally code purple or losing EVERYONE they care about and sparrow chose his family #and he never once blamed normal for it. he immediately chose to be the one to handle that burden #it was a horrible decision but like. i think he was right i don't think there was any other way #they wouldve all died and nothing would be left #and like. it fucking sucks. but sparrow loved his kids so much he was willing to destroy himself for them #and if you dare to still sit there and say otherwise? youre a loser and im gonna fight you

[rinrinp42]

Magic Eyes Can Suck

Title: Magic Eyes Can Suck

Author: AO3: RinRin/ @rinrinp42 Rating: Mature (M) Wordcount: 2,061 Prompt: Halloween Event 2018: Prompt #11:'Spirit.’  for @sumigakure Warnings/Notes: Kinda a crossover given that I'm using the Entities from The Magnus Archives, so I'd say some of the general warnings for a horror podcast apply, also, Body Horror, and mentions of torture.

Summary: Madara demands to see his brother.  He does not know what he demands.

“Izuna!” Madara yelped in the middle of the debrief over the falsified mission that exposed a spy with Hashirama.  He finally had put it together, that bizarre, strange voice that had come from the door that should not have been.

The Hokage gave him a concerned look even as Tobirama shot him a venomous one, shut up practically dripping from his eyes.

“Mada, Izuna's dead,” Hashirama said in a concerned tone.  Madara rolled his eyes.

“No, I know that, but,” Madara turned to Tobirama, half angry, half bewildered, “But the door that spoke, its voice was Izuna's, distorted, but his.”

Tobirama closed his eyes.

“Don't do this,” he warned, voice low.

“Tobirama!  You've known Izuna was alive and didn't tell Mada?” Hashirama demanded, voice dripping with reproach.

Tobirama looked between them, eyes calculating.

“He's not what you think,” he finally said, eyes boring into Madara, “Do not ask for him, it won't turn out as you wish.  There is a very good reason he has not visited you.”

Madara scoffed at the warning.

“He is my brother, of course he's what I wish for.”

It was true, all Madara wanted was his brother back.  Being tied to the weird door was fine in the face of his return.  Hashirama clearly understood what with his sad smile.

Tobirama looked at him with pity and reproach.

“I cannot call him, that is not how this works, but I will….send word as I can that he should come.  You will regret this Madara.  I can only hope the rest of us do not.”

With that, Tobirama swept from the room, two ANBU peeling off from the ceiling where they had been hiding to follow him like lost puppies.

A few days passed with no word on Izuna, then a week, then a few weeks.  A month and Madara was no closer to seeing his brother than he was before he knew of his survival.  So Madara did the only logical thing.

He stormed the ANBU building.

One of the younger ANBU, one in a lizard mask, tried to stop him, but he blew past the kid.

“Tobirama!  Where the fuck are you?” he demanded, yelling out the words, “I know you know I'm here!”

The lizard masked kid darted in front of him, but Madara batted the brat away.  He did stop when another ANBU appeared in front of him, rabbit mask looking back at him.

“Lizard, go see Sparrow for healing.  You did well,” the rabbit masked one said, “Madara, Shishou is busy, but given that otherwise you will put all of us in traction, please follow me.”

Madara ignored the rudeness, and the mixture of disdain and sarcasm dripping from her voice and gave a sharp nod.

“Lead on,” he sneered.

She turned sharply and stalked into the building, Madara on her heels.  They slipped from room to room, the rabbit masked girl barely glancing at the scenes they walked past, though Madara grew uneasy at the signs of torture and experimentation.

They stopped in front of a wooden pair of doors.

“Shishou is through here,” she said.

Madara pushed past her, words burning on his tongue.  An involuntary whimper strangled them.  After all, no matter his feelings about Tobirama, it was not every day that he stripped down to a pair of hakama and his mesh top.

It was…. quite the sight, and Madara was just a man.

And then Tobirama glanced over his shoulder at him and quirked an eyebrow.  Moment over, he was back to hating the damn smug bastard.

Madara looked past him and paused.  He was…. he was painting a wooden door.  A spiraling maze in red dominated the unstained wood.  Madara knew Tobirama was more than a bit unhinged, but why would he…

His eyes fell on the body.  The still cooling body that had barely any blood on or around it.  His gaze flickered to the bucket in Tobirama's hand.

He swallowed back the bile.

“It's best not to waste it,” Tobirama said, turning back to the door, “I only need a little under half for this.  After all, blood does not paint nearly as easily or as evenly as, well, paint.”

“Why are you-” Madara paused, trying to swallow and wet is dry mouth, wanting to not croak the words, “what is this?”

Tobirama placed the bloody paintbrush and bucket down and turned to face him.

“You asked for this Madara.  I'm sending word, an invitation to Izuna.”

Madara blanched.

“That, that can't be right,” he stammered, eyes darting around.

“I told you, you'd regret this.  It can end now, I'm not done,” Tobirama said, his voice low and his gaze intense.

Madara swallowed.

“Who was he?” he asked.

“What?” Tobirama frowned at him.

“That man, who was he?”

Tobirama's eyes were darker than he'd ever seen them as he stared at Madara.

“A spy we caught,” the rabbit masked girl said.

Madara nodded, decisive.

“You would have killed him anyway.  I want to see my brother.”

Tobirama stared at him for a moment longer before snorting and turning back to the door.

“Come back tomorrow.  If he's willing, he'll be here.  Not sure when tomorrow, but apparently it doesn't matter.”

The rabbit masked girl tugged his arm.

“Satisfied?” she hissed.

He nodded and followed her out.

That night he dreamt of Tobirama and rooms painted in the blood of everyone he'd ever loved.  Tobirama kept asking if he was sure it was worth it.  Dream Madara didn't have an answer.

The next day he dragged Hashirama with him.  It would be a good way to show the other just how unsuited for peace Tobirama was.  Madara could multitask.

Except when they walked in, the rabbit masked girl was waiting.

“Hokage-sama, Uchiha-san, Shishou has sent this Rabbit to guide you to where our esteemed guest is.  Please follow.”

Rabbit led them a different way, no torture in sight, simply various ANBU training and making plans over maps and reports.  Madara ground his teeth, of course the damn bastard had to neuter his plans.

Finally Rabbit opened the last door and the open area from yesterday was revealed.  The blood painted door was set back in the opposite wall, the blood still a vibrant red as if it were freshly painted though it looked dry.

Tobirama was sitting against one of the walls on the side, dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, scrolls and reports scattered around him. And turning about to take it all in was…

Was Izuna looking just as he had the day Tobirama killed him.  Well, with the exception of the spiral covered blindfold covering his eyes.

“Izuna?” Madara whispered, taking a half step forward.

Izuna turned towards him, head tilting, but said nothing.

Madara started to walk forward, eyes locked on his brother.  Izuna seemed to track him with his missing eyes.

“I can't believe it's you,” Madara choked on the sob trapped in his throat, “I've missed you so much you brat.”

Izuna opened his mouth, and Tobirama pointedly cleared his own throat with an “ahem”

A rueful look crossed Izuna's face even as Madara shot Tobirama a venomous look.

Izuna swallowed and then tilted his head around as if he was working something in his mouth.

“It has been a while,” he finally acknowledged, “But I have my purpose now and visits to those who knew me do not factor in.  Unless you wish to-”

“Izuna,” Tobirama's voice was sharp with reproach.

Izuna turned towards him, a wide grin on his face, “But Archivist, I was teasing.”

Tobirama shot him a look over the scroll full of disbelief.

Izuna huffed, “Fine Archivist, no mentioning of my door.”

“Izuna, I can't, you're here,” Madara reached out.

“I am.  How could I resist?  The Archivist asked so sweetly.” That grin again, the almost unhinged, hungry look.  But Madara ignored it, ignored how Izuna now thought murdering some poor soul and using their blood as paint was “asking sweetly”, ignored how Izuna only called Tobirama by that bizarre title.

He just reached for Izuna.  Izuna pulled slightly back as Madara tried to hug him, an awkward look on his face.

“Izuna?  What's wrong?”. Madara asked, worry in his voice.

“I... don't like to be... hugged,” he said, shifting awkwardly.

Tobirama snorted at that.

“You don't like touch at all Izuna.  Be clear,” Tobirama paused and looked at Izuna, “Well, as clear as you can be.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?!” Madara snarled, taking a step towards Tobirama, his eyes burning with the desire to switch on his sharingan.

Izuna scoffed from next to him, twisting his top in a move that made Madara's back ache in sympathy.

“We can't all be about Truths Archivist.  But thank you for the... reminder.”

Tobirama visibly rolled his eyes, turning back to the scroll.

“Tobirama!  Why can't we be like them!” Hashirama pouted, flopping down next to the younger Senju.

Tobirama ignored him.

“Tobirama!”

“Your order for me to call for Izuna means I am behind on work.  Stop trying to distract me.”

“But Tobi-”

Madara narrowed his eyes at the damn ingracious bastard, even as his hands lashed around Izuna's arms.

The door behind Madara creaked open and he spun, snarl on his lips to confront whichever of the damn murder-pets was disturbing them.

Lizard squeaked at the sight of his sharingan and stumbled back, arm being caught by Rabbit.

Madara sneered, turning back towards his brother and froze.  His breath quickened as his eyes darted all over the, the thing that was standing where his brother had been.

Its body was Izuna's, but stretched out, as if there were extra bones, skin taunt against them.  It had over a foot of height on Izuna, body bowed to keep its head at the same level as Madara's.  It favored standing on its elongated feet as if it were a deer.  The shirt that had fit Izuna well now was both too large and too short, hanging from the thin flesh in places but stopping at the thing's hips.  The pants were no better having become no better than loose shorts.

The extra joints from the extra long bones in its arms meant that the sleeves were too short as well, showcasing the final set of flesh covered long bones perfectly.  A twisted forearm that ended in large, boney hands, as large as the thing’s torso with long thin fingers.

And Sage, the fingers!  The final phalanges were at least double the length of the rest and came to points, pushing out of the skin.

Madara stumbled back, eyes wide as the thing calling itself Izuna cocked its head to the side as if observing him.  It cackled, sharp pointy teeth gleaming pearl-like from the too wide mouth.

Behind it the blood painted door now seemed to be three dimensional.  The twisting spiral maze seemed to be reaching out towards Madara.

He was not aware, but he had started up a litany of “nonono” interspersed with pleas to the Sage, to the Juubi, the Biju, to the oft forgotten gods themselves.

He sunk down to the ground as his back hit the wall.

The thing slinked closer, wide pointed rictus of a grin in place, looming over him.  One huge, pointed hand lifted, talon of a finger pointing at Madara.

Y̸̹̬̏̓̅͠ö̸̘́̈́û̶̬̼̮̹̉́̾ ̴̖̫̝͝ͅw̴̦̙̺͆́i̸͚̎͠s̴̝͕̃̈́h̴̺͔̮̎̍̇ė̶͙̘̻̑͘̚d̵̺̬̣͒ ̶͔̱͚͗́f̵̳̝̾o̵̖͔̒̄r̵͕̐̕ ̷̟̒m̵͕͋͆̍ẽ̵̟̥̤,̷̨̖̦͋͂̓́ ̶̹̤̫̞͒́̕͘M̵͉̫͙̟̓̎͌ấ̴͍̳̬͍d̸̦̞͌̋a̵̝̗͖͗̿͒̈-̸͍̦͂n̵̢̮̜̙̐́̆̆i̸̞̱͗͋͒͂i̷̤͎͂͐̑̉

“Izuna,” Tobirama snapped, and blessed gods and honored Sage the thing moved back.

Tobirama strode in between them, staring down at Madara.

“Anija, take Madara home, now,” he ordered, staring down the Izuna-thing until it backed up more.  He glanced back at Madara, turning from the Izuna-thing.

Madara whimpered as he stared up.  Tobirama had a large, glowing red eye open on his forehead.  Further glowing red eyes claimed positions on each cheek, and his chin.  They lined his throat like a perverse glowing necklace or collar.  Each joint that Madara could see was adorned by yet another glowing red eye.  Extra eyes spread over his chest and stomach, dotted his arms, and, when Madara could gather his courage to look, peered up from the top of his foot.

And each blinked and moved separate of the rest.

Both of Tobirama's normal eyes and the one on his forehead focused on Madara.  There was pity in them.

“Oh Madara, I told you, you'd regret this.”

#my writing #sumigakure halloween event 2018 #tobirama senju #madara uchiha #TMA crossover #kinda #izuna uchiha #tobirama is the archivist #aka an aspect of the beholding #izuna is the door (kinda) #aka an aspect of the spiral #hashirama senju #tw: body horror #tw: mentions of torture #sequel to the other tma crossover #madara regrets his life #hashirama is confused