#one of their siblings did turn towards them. At that point a safer political move would be to have one of their younger sons to work as a | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ramzawrites · 3 years

Note

can i request an angsty sbi fic where sibling reader lost two lives saving others (maybe tubbo at the festival?) and they see everything falling apart (techno and phil destroying everything, wilbur dead and tommy focused on the disks) and they pretend to be ok while their mental health gets worse and worse until they decide to end it, and people only realise they weren't okay after the death message pops up and their reactions to seeing it? if not thats completely fine, ik its pretty heavy

Broken

Pairings: none

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Philza, Tubbo, Technoblade

Warnings: depression, suicide (falling, non descriptive), angst

Series: a request!

Summary: Y/N just wanted their home back. They just wanted to live a peaceful life but instead all their hopes and dreams got ripped apart by the people they loved the most.

Words count: 3647

Authors Note: Honestly I could have shortened it quite a bit but here we are, it’s way longer than I wanted but I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry if this went kind off of rails to what you might have envisioned. Also I hope that you guys know that you are loved and appreciated. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my stuff :] Here is m favorite video to cheer me up some times, hope it can cheer you up as well!

I’m also curious what your guys thoughts and opinion are on this or my writing in general! Can’t get better without feedback :]

Y/N loved their family.

They were all pretty chaotic but so was Y/N, following their siblings into trouble ignoring any possible consequences.

So when Wilbur proclaimed he would create an independent Nation inside the SMP that was owned by Dream himself, you bet that Y/N was standing right beside him.

When Wilbur would struggle with his tasks or was weighed down by doubts they would swoop right in and do their best to support him. Every time Wilbur would say “I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” While Y/N didn’t do it for praise but out of love for him it was still nice knowing that he appreciated them and that he took note of their work.

Tommy wasn’t really for heartfelt words but he too expressed in his own way how much he appreciated them being around. Most of his schemes wouldn’t have even happened without Y/N’s help after all. As a way to say thanks he would let them just take stuff fout his chets or when he heard they needed a specific resource he would wander out and get it for them. Of course saying something on the lines of “I was out there anyhow, so I brought some with me. It was on the way.” Y/N could read between the lines though. They grew up with him after all.

Y/N put so much energy into L’Manberg they couldn’t help but be in love with this little nation. They would do everything to protect their home.

When Y/N lost their first life it was together with their siblings protecting their nephew Fundy.

The Dream Team suddenly retreated after another battle against L’Manberg. While the group was celebrating what they thought was their first victory in ages, Eret appeared. She told the group of a small bunker with more resources.

Still celebrating Wilbur, Y/N, Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy made their way towards the bunker. The bunker that would later go down into history as “The Final Control Room.”

Inside they all looked at the labeled chests only to notice that they were empty. Eret then pressed a button which opened up secret walls with the Dream Team standing behind. She herself got into safety as Dream and his friends merciless attacked the L’Manberg faction.

As soon as Y/N understood what was happening they did their best to form a wall between the attackers and Fundy. Slowly pushing him out of the room while they made sure to block the exit, giving the Fox Hybrid enough time to run away.

When they woke up again it was inside their home. In L’Manberg. Sore from the respawning.

Once they did respawn though it didn’t take long for Fundy to barge into their room and throw himself against them, thanking them. Wilbur was close by, looking worse for wear as well but incredible thankful nonetheless.

After that and a few battles more Tommy challenged Dream to a duel in order to secure independence. He lost so instead he bartered his music discs for freedom.

After Tommy respawned a second time Y/N made sure to spent most of their time hovering around him. Making sure he was doing alright.

But with that L’Manberg was independent and it was Y/N’s time to shine. Sure, they worked hard on strengthening the infrastructure of the nation but now, maybe even because of that, they basically coordinated all the new builds.

Shops, homes and other things were being build with them overseeing it. Meanwhile Wilbur and Tommy took care of the political part only to come to the conclusion that they had to have a proper election.

At first it started innocently enough as well. New political parties were made that begun advertising themselves. Funny enough they would always come to Y/N asking them where they could hang up their posters. It was then that Y/N realized that the people saw them as some sort of authority, even asking them if they wanted to start their own campaign. They politely declined, saying they worked best as a support role.

Then Schlatt entered the stage and everything got thrown upside down.

In the end he managed to become the next president via a coalition and his first declaration as the president, or emperor as he called himself, was to exile Tommy and Wilbur.

As they ran for their life Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow. It hurt them so much to leave L’Manberg, their fruit and labor, behind. This only got worse once they realized that Tubbo was basically left alone back at the city under Schlatt’s rule.

Then Pogtopia got established.

Tommy, Wilbur and Y/N did their best to get a proper foothold again. Gathering resources and planning for ways to get their home back. And to accomplish this they soon called in the oldest sibling of the group, Technoblade.

Techno has been away for the longest time now. He moved out early to travel the world and apparently train himself. Somehow Tommy found a way to get a message to him, so he made his way towards Pogtopia.

He wasn’t big on words or emotions but as soon as he arrived he let Y/N hug him.

“This is a onetime deal, Y/N.”

With Techno they finally felt like they had a chance. Y/N could maybe return home someday. Back when they were children Techno always looked out for them so to have him back Y/N felt infinitely safer.

All the while Wilbur showed more and more signs that his mental health was rapidly declining. Y/N did their best trying to cheer him up but there was only so much they could do. Especially since they themself were struggling.

L’Manberg was their everything and now it was under the iron rule of Schlatt. They had to watch as Schlatt walked through the nation, ripping apart builds that they commissioned or even built themself. Every time he did something like that it felt like another stab wound directly into their heart.

Then the festival happened where Y/N lost their second life protecting Tubbo.

Schlatt wanted to apparently celebrate democracy and his amazing rule. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t allowed to join while Techno and Y/N received an invitation.

Y/N was very wary of that. They learned from Tubbo that Schlatt apparently was pretty interested in bringing them over to Manberg since a lot of the residents trusted them and saw them more as an authority than Schlatt himself, so bringing them over would probably also bring a lot of the residents around to his rule.

On the day of the festival Y/N made sure to stay close to Techno. Holding on to his arm and basically hiding behind him, not feeling up to talk with all the people in Manberg.

The people were happy to see them but Y/N was tired. They haven’t slept properly ever since the exile, too many thoughts that kept them awake.

Then the speeches started.

Honestly Y/N wasn’t really listening, their attention purely on a broken old building. It used to be the place where Y/N and the other residents would meet up and map out their plans for new builds. Discussing and even sometimes arguing on what materials should be used and where to get them. Now it was empty.

Their attention got pulled back towards what was actually happening once Tubbo begun speaking. It was a nice little speech Y/N had to admit.

Just as Tubbo was about to leave, Schlatt moved back in. Holding him in place and pushing him in something that Y/N had to describe as a cage with the help of Quackity.

“Techno, buddy. Come up here for a sec.”

Technoblade tensed up but still moved towards the stage. There Schlatt uttered the words that pulled the rug out from beneath Y/N once again.

“Kill him Techno. He is a traitor.”

“Don’t you dare!” Y/N yelled out, making their way towards the stage as well.

Y/N knew Techno couldn’t deal well with social pressure, especially when there were about ten people or more behind him that could attack him at any point.

Tubbo looked so scared as he pressed himself against the wall. There was no escape for him.

When Techno moved his crossbow up, aiming directly at Tubbo, Y/N let out another scream. Urging him to stop.

Explosions. Colorful explosions filled the place.

“Y/N!” it was Tubbo screaming their name out.

Just as Techno pressed the trigger Y/N managed to jump in front, the rockets hitting them instead of Tubbo.

Their older brother looked absolutely mortified “Y/N? Wha- What? Why? How?” staring at Y/N’s lifeless body that slowly dissolved. They were slowly respawning but seeing his siblings body was enough to send him in some sort of frenzy.

Filled with bloodlust he aimed his crossbow towards Schlatt and Quackity. Killing them with one press of the trigger only to turn around and aim his crossbow towards the people.

As this happened Tommy enderpearled over, screaming at Techno.

He helped Tubbo out of the cage who was still in a state of shock. He only saw Y/N for a second and the next they were laying on the ground in their own blood.

Y/N heard the details later after they respawned. Tommy had apparently been incredibly angry at Techno, even attacking him. Wilbur then offered that the two deal with their argument via a fistfight inside a pit.

Normally Y/N would have yelled at Wilbur for that. Would have told him that this was his dumbest idea yet but they were too shook from what had happened to them.

Technoblade always spelled safety to them but he killed them. Sure, he meant to kill Tubbo but that didn’t really make it any better. They gave him an out, they would have helped fighting off all these people so they could flee.

The next time they saw Techno they flinched every time he got too close to them and yet they still put on a smile “Never, do this again.”

Techno only nodded.

After this downward slope the momentum didn’t seem to stop for them. Wilbur dropped even more and more off. Falling victim to his paranoia. Y/N tried their best convincing him to not blow up Manberg, that they will fight to gain it back. At this point trying to gain back their L’Manberg was the only thing they could hold on to.

Though all that work was for nothing.

The war to take back L’Manberg went way differently than they all had imagined. Y/N fought with a viciousness most didn’t think they had it in them. This was the day for them to finally regain what they had wished for, for the longest time now.

Everything came to a halt once Dream surrendered. He showed them Schlatt who was sitting in the Carmavan. Drunk off his mind he yelled and screamed at people only to die of a heart attack which meant that the Pogtopia faction won.

The people begun cheering, they had their home back! They were free! Y/N was probably the loudest by far. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. All this hardship and they could finally return to working with the others and rebuild L’Manberg. Return it to its former glory.

Tubbo got appointed President and Y/N was happy with it. Tubbo had an eye for building and was a good person, with him they were sure they could do some amazing things.

Apparently Techno thought otherwise. Instead he pulled Soulsand out, holding onto the Wither skulls as a visible threat.

Y/N had somewhat forgiven Techno for what had happened. It was a stressful situation and they acknowledged it but seeing him there, threatening to kill all of them? That they knew they couldn’t forgive quite so easy. Especially since he made some sound points but it was their L’Manberg. The people didn’t like living under Schlatt’s rule, this wasn’t something that could be described simply as a coup. Technically he was right but only technically. There were so many things that came into play that could let you argue over that but Techno would have none of it. Yelling something about Tommy only wanting to be a hero.

When the first explosions rang Y/N thought it came from a Wither but Techno was still in the middle of putting the heads onto the structure.

When more explosions rang and the ground beneath their feet broke away, Y/N understood what had happened.

At some point Wilbur ran off and must have pressed the button. The button that set the TNT beneath the city ablaze, effectively destroying everything.

Y/N was too busy with finding hard ground again and then dealing with the Withers and Techno that they only noticed after the fighting ended, how broken the nation was now.

They had won. Why would Wilbur do this? He knew how much the nation meant to them and again, they had won, so there was no reason for blowing the place up!

And if that wasn’t enough to see how both their older brothers destroyed everything Y/N worked for, they also had to see how Philza, their father, stood next to the corpse of Wilbur. It felt like they lost everything.

They lost their trust in Technoblade.

They lost their hopes and dreams via Wilbur blowing up the freshly liberated L’Manberg.

They lost their trust in their own father who had slain his own son.

Y/N felt absolutely crushed. Family was so important to them and it was their own family that destroyed their hopes and dreams. They did everything for them and this is how they repaid them?

Once everything calmed down and Tubbo begun making plans on how to rebuild the nation, he immediately came to Y/N for help but they hesitated which worried him.

“Is everything okay? Usually you would have jumped on that offer, Y/N.”

Y/N put on a smile that didn’t seem to reach their eyes “Don’t worry Tubbo, of course I’ll help you. I’m just tired from what we have been through. I finally have time to take a breather and I think it all just crashed down on me.”

“Well if you ever need help you can talk to me.” It was an earnest offer that Y/N would never take advantage of.

Y/N mostly ignored Philza. He talked with them a few times and even explained what has happened but Y/N still made a wide berth around him. Seeing him just hammered back down the feeling of distrust and hurt. Their familial relationship took a hard hit from that point on.

With Ghostbur it was a weird situation as well. They enjoyed spending time with him but were also always incredibly sad around him. Ghostbur took notice of this and would always offer them to take some of his blue but Y/N declined every time.

“Don’t worry Ghostbur. Everything is still just fresh in my mind. I’ll be back to my old self in no time. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“Of course Y/N! You have always looked out for me, thank you.”

L’Manberg slowly took on a proper form again but it wasn’t the L’Manberg Y/N knew. It felt to them like they were standing on top of a grave. A grave for their dreams and it was getting hard, real hard, to walk through it every day seeing places where they know specific buildings should be standing. Buildings they build on their own only to be destroyed by their brothers doing.

Then Tubbo exiled Tommy and Y/N felt conflicted. They felt obligated to stay in L’Manberg since they were the main person people came to for builds but that was their brother. Their only brother they still trusted and felt a need to protect.

Instead of following him into exile they stayed in the city. Visiting Tommy whenever they could, noticing pretty fast that he was struggling hard with his situation and for once they didn’t feel strong enough to properly support him. Y/N tried their best but once they noticed they couldn’t reach him completely they gave up a tiny bit.

It reminded them too much of Wilbur.

So while they visited him and helped them where they could, they spent more and more time alone in their home only coming out for work and other necessary things like food. Soon it was normal to see them with ever present dark circles beneath their eyes.

Before Philza disappeared to join Techno, he would stop by Y/N’s home all the time.

“Have you eaten, yet?”

“Yes, dad. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

“I just haven’t seen you much lately and I got worried.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Hey, if you go out, please, can you tell Ghostbur to stop coming around to throw Blue inside my mailbox? He won’t listen to me but perhaps he will to you.” And they would always carry the same big smile on their face accompanied by empty eyes.

The only time their happiness reached their eyes again was when Tommy returned from his exile. They crashed into their younger sibling holding him close to them and muttering apologies. He pried them off, embarrassed by all of this.

This short bout of happiness was destroyed by Doomsday. Dream, Technoblade and Philza once again made sure to set L’Manberg ablaze.

The second time Y/N’s fruits and labor got completely annihilated by their family but still they had some hopes this time. They still had Tommy on their side they could just finally build a home somewhere else and live in peace but Tommy had other ideas. He had it in his mind to get his discs back and he would do anything for it.

So while Y/N tried to ground themself with new hopes and ideas, holding onto the only constant of what was important to them, that being Tommy, Tommy ignored them. He was too busy with his own things and the worst part was that Y/N couldn’t even fault him for it.

They understood how much these discs meant to him and that this was something that had to come to an end but with this they lost another, and possibly their last, anchor point.

Yet you could still see them running around with a smile, tending to every one and trying to help out the best they could.

Then suddenly they were gone. They just disappeared one day. The few people who took note of that took some time to look around but there was no sign as to where they left. Y/N didn’t take their armor with them nor any weapons or food.

< Y/N succumbed to despair and fell of a high place>

When every ones communicators rung out with this message the SMP fell quiet.

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was reading. This didn’t make any sense. Y/N was fine! They would talk with them and everything looked fine! This must have been a cruel joke from Dream somehow, right? This couldn’t be real. Why would Dream do this? This didn’t seem to make sense.

Exactly there was no sense in Dream doing this.

While Tommy was battling with his thoughts Tubbo came running over to him. Tears streamed down his face.

“What happened? Why did this happen? Where are they?”

Tommy was visibly shaking “I- I have no idea. I don’t know. They looked fine. I’m- I’m not sure. Tubbo-“

Tubbo just slammed into him, giving him a proper hug, trying his best to help Tommy through his rising panic. He lost another sibling and by Ender that hurt.

Meanwhile in the snowy Tundra both Philza and Techno were staring at their communicators as well.

Philza was pale. So pale it almost rivaled the snow around him.

Techno had his brows furrowed. For anyone who didn’t know him well enough he looked at best displeased with this situation but Philza could see the small details that told a different story. Him sucking his breath in as he read the message, hiding his quivering lip in his cloak. He was heartbroken.

Sure the two weren’t on good speaking terms but Y/N was still his younger sibling. He still loved them.

Philza felt similar. He acknowledged that he screwed up and honored their wish to be left alone by him but he never imagined this could lead to their death. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Two of his children died, one directly by his hand and the other due to his inaction.

His eyes glossed over, the world became a blur and yet he continued rereading this message over and over. Y/N just lost their last life.

Philza could hear Techno walk closer to him and sat down on the ground as well.

“Y/N is-“ Philza begun but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. State the obvious to his eldest son?

“I have more fault in this than you, dad. Don’t feel guilty.” His voice was uncharacteristically weak. Wavering as he spoke. He wanted to cheer Philza up but it was a weak attempt.

“What have we done.”

Ghostbur was at first confused when he read the message. It was like he couldn’t connect the dots but it slowly dawned on him what this meant.

“Oh my.” His usual happy demeanor was suddenly gone.

He touched his face and as he put his hands back down he saw how they were smeared with blue.

“Y/N is dead?”

His usual ghost behavior seemed to break a bit. It was like through the warped version of Wilbur that was called Ghostbur for a moment the true version of him came through again. And he was hurt. Devastated.

“I think I need to find the others.” He mumbled to himself, making his way towards his family. All the while he held onto the blue wool of Friend like a lifeline. Combing through it nervously. Blue continuing to spill from his eyes.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x reader #sbi #sleepy bois inc #ramza writes #Anonymous #anon request

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lambourngb · 3 years

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For the first line meme: It's later than he thought when the knock on the door interrupts another night of staring at the computer screen.

the heart is a muscle - post season 2, mentions of forlex , getting back together malex fic for you dear @jule1122, and @haloud, and @christchex.

It's later than he thought when the knock on the door interrupted another night of staring at the computer screen.

Mr. Jones and his last words to Michael, before he was forced back into stasis, still haunted him. “You really think there was just one ship? We were in formation, kid. What you should ask yourself is, where did everyone else go? Did they just keep zippin’ on their way to the colony? Or did they stop and take a gander at this planet and what they did to the survivors?”

The tiny bit of hope that this Max-lookalike psychopath didn’t represent the last of his species, had Michael diving back into his research behind the crash of 1947. The online conversations about Roswell had moved on to other topics since Michael had abandoned the message boards in the wake of Caulfield, but with some effort, he had found new threads detailing neighborhood folklore regarding newcomers with eerie talents, like the ability to grow food in droughts. Stories that peppered all over the world. Stories that might mean an alien colonist on Earth.

The thirst for knowledge about his planet and his people would never leave him, even if the actual urge to go had quieted down into just a soft whisper. Life was finally good in Roswell. After the mind games of Mr. Jones, Michael could admit now that he did have a family here, even if they weren’t related by blood. Sanders, Arturo, Mimi, Michelle Valenti had all stepped in at various times to offer a guiding hand to him, or just a quiet nod of reassurance that he was valued. Max and Isobel would always be his siblings, but now he could count Liz, Rosa, Kyle, and even awkwardly in their new friendship, Maria, as extended his family now.

It didn’t escape Michael that not even in his thoughts could he attribute his feelings for Alex as brotherly. There was still a vacant place at the head of Michael’s overflowing table of family for a partner, a spouse. That somehow, the seat even as other people came and went, only seemed to fit Alex.

Except they were still just friends.

Another knock, more impatient this time, rattled the Airstream’s door. Michael sat up, placing his ancient laptop on the counter and rolled off his bed to get to his feet. His life was had changed so much in the last couple of years that he had enough people in it, friends, who dropped by his trailer at all hours of the day, not just Isobel, that he couldn’t even guess the identity of the visitor.

Backlit from the auto yard’s security lights, stood Alex Manes holding a cardboard drink holder from ‘Bean Me Up’.

“Alex,” Michael greeted, a smile already at his lips. He glanced at the coffee and back to Alex, “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow I take it?” This was part of the new normal for Michael, meeting Alex for coffee, three or four mornings a week. It was something that had grown out of a happy coincidence, Alex’s gym was near the Boys and Girls Club that Michael volunteered at, serving breakfast in the mornings and tutoring kids in math in the afternoon.

Same place at the same time, once, then twice, became a standard thing. Not a date. Just, taking advantage of the mutual collision to talk. And at first, it was awkward to share news with each other, like Alex’s dating experiences with Forrest or Michael’s attempts to recover his memories of his planet, but later things had softened into a routine. Order coffee, find a small table, and then spend the next hour playfully fending off Alex’s attempts to foist food on Michael’s side of the table while also stealing sips of his caramel lattes.

Perhaps one day Alex would realize that Michael had only ordered the ridiculously sweet coffee drinks because he knew that was what Alex preferred to drink. It was still a damn toxic hold over from Jesse Manes that Alex still persisted in ordering black coffee with no sugar. Dating Forrest might have helped Alex be open with his sexuality, there were still lessons for Alex to learn in being gentle with himself, Michael observed. The act of indulging in pleasures, instead of engaging in deprivation, it was something he struggled with as well.

In the meantime, Michael could at least help Alex in this small way, letting him ‘steal’ his lattes.

“Alex?” Something about Michael had robbed Alex of all speech as he just stared up at Michael in response, still holding the drinks dumbly in his hands. “Are you okay? What’s wrong-”

The switch from teasing to urgent concern finally snapped Alex out of his apparent stupor. “Right, nothing, um, just- since when do you wear glasses?”

Michael’s hand went to his face automatically, realizing belatedly that he was still wearing his reading glasses. He started to pull them off, blushing in embarrassment, when Alex blurted out, “They look good! On you. The glasses. Um great even.”

“Oh.” Now that. Michael did not know what to do with that.

In the yellow-wash of light, Alex was clearly the same man from yesterday’s coffee visit physically. His soft mouth was there, but it came with his standard closed expression that he must have picked up abroad, wearing it now as Michael’s least favorite souvenir. His posture was the same too, forever changed from losing his leg, straight-backed and rigid but just then, he was someone Michael hadn’t seen in a long time. That awkward stuttering response was Alex Manes, the seventeen-year-old boy who had whipped off his visor nervously in the museum, the same boy who touched with soft gliding palms newly revealed skin before snatching his hands away at the first sign that it was unwelcome.

Aware that it was his turn to stare at Alex, Michael forced himself to smile naturally, “I guess not even my alien physiology can beat back the glare of a computer screen. I forgot I had them on.”

“Did I interrupt something? I can go if you want,” Alex stopped, probably hearing the past echo between them but not in the benign way of before. “Or I can stay and help, even if it’s with surprise coffee?” This time he lifted the tray up between them, an offer or a barricade of politeness, Michael wasn’t sure.

“I’m looking for other survivors,” Michael admitted, before looking down to avoid Alex’s sharpened gaze of interest. “On the internet, obviously, since I don’t think I can trust that I could sense them with my mind.”

It was clear that Alex hadn’t forgotten any of the various tactics Jones had employed against them, but Michael in particular. A frequent repeated taunt was about how damaged their psychic abilities were for adults, to the point no one had sensed Caulfield, but that from his pod prison Jones could hear Nora calling for help nightly right until the end. The twisted knife of how Michael had grown up waiting for someone to save him. Alex pursed his lips to object, “Michael-”

“Jones was full of shit about a lot,” Michael assured him quickly, “but I think he was right about the ships, that it wasn’t just one that crashed. I’m just combing through stories, basically internet mythology, looking for clues about strangers who might have some sort of power. It’s a lot of ‘world’s biggest cucumber’ stories right now, but hey, come in, you’re the computer genius and I could use your help and your coffee.” He placed his hands on the coffee holder, carrying it for Alex and backed away from the steps to let Alex have as much room as possible to navigate the cumbersome metal steps into the Airstream.

The seating area of the Airstream had been folded away and stored in order to make room for the drying rack of his clothes from laundry day, leaving only his narrow bed for seating. Michael had half-a-minute’s pause in reconsideration. They could relocate outside to his fire pit with the cheap camp chairs, and sit pressed together elbow-to-elbow around the dim screen of the laptop between them. Or. Or they could squeeze together on his bed, a place where that sort of contact between them had always led to sex. What was the safer option for their friendship?

His heart always strayed too far from the safety of his bones when it came to Alex.

Ignoring his pounding pulse, he grabbed the coffee cup marked “Alex” and pulled it to his lips to drink and made a gesture to the bed. At least he had made the bed up earlier with clean linens, the spread was neatly tucked into the corners, almost military sharp. That made it feel slightly less risqué to him than inviting Alex into warm mussed sheets that reeked of Michael’s skin. That rain and bourbon scent that Alex had pointed out.

“Um, your coffee was the other one.” Alex picked up the abandoned cup marked with a ‘M’ and followed him over to the bed.

“No, I’m drinking the coffee I always end up with. Your black tar juice.”

Alex smiled slightly, caught out by the observation before gingerly sitting next to Michael as Michael scooted over toward the wall of the Airstream. “Yeah, I guess I do end up stealing yours.” He brought his left leg up easily on the mattress and then passed his coffee cup over to Michael’s waiting hands as he brought his prosthetic up with both hands for balance. The smile faded, as Alex reclaimed the ‘M’ cup to sip from deep in thought as he seemed to review the history of their morning encounters. “I’m sorry-”

“Alex, come on,” he teased leaning his shoulder against Alex’s. “You haven’t caught on by now? I only order that sugar monstrosity because I know you won’t let yourself do it. I don’t even like caramel that much.”

“What? Come on, that’s what you ordered that first time-”

“I ordered that for the director at the community center.” Michael placed his coffee on the window of the Airstream and concentrated on bringing the laptop back up to rest on his knees between them not daring to look at Alex. He would never be able to confess the next bit and see Alex’s too-expressive gaze at the same time. But. As he had reminded himself earlier, he needed to work on indulging in pleasures as well, not just holding on to the pylon weight of depriving himself, of never believing he was worthy of good things. And being Alex’s friend was that. A pleasure. A good thing. The best thing.

“Once I saw you though, I kinda forgot the errand I was on in the first place. Then, I might have gone back at the same time the next day. And the day after that. For reasons.” He glanced to the side, meeting Alex’s wide eyes briefly before turning back to the laptop. “So I guess it's my turn to apologize? I might have had an agenda.”

It was quiet between them, as Michael clicked through a few different forums. He wasn’t paying any attention to where his cursor landed, he just kept scrolling through window after window as a distraction because the urge to pull back, to crack a joke, to do anything but let Alex process in silence was hard to suppress but needed. That was a part of becoming friends, learning that Alex needed extra time to formulate a response, something that came from needing to shut all emotional responses off during a drone operation at work.

“Me too,” Alex replied softly. “About the agenda. I mean, I don’t even have a membership at that gym.”

Michael frowned, the words not making any sense to him.

“That first time was dumb luck, I mean, I stopped in that morning because I had stayed the night at Forrest’s for the first time and I found out he doesn’t drink coffee. Doesn’t even own a coffee maker.” Alex scoffed quietly, before leaning against Michael affectionately, “I should have known that it was doomed from the start, just on coffee alone but what really put the nail in the coffin was the fact I pretended to go to that gym for two months because I had a bag of clothes with me when you saw me.”

“That was your clothes from staying over with him,” Michael said slowly, almost to himself, before he frowned even deeper as the connections fell into place. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or not, but this was a new level of avoidance of an awkward subject for Alex. It did make sense considering the timing, and maybe that was why he was confessing now to Michael because not that Michael allowed himself to show it, the early days of Alex’s relationship with the historian were difficult for him. He didn’t begrudge Alex being happy or being with someone else, but there was still an old, gnarled bit of Michael’s heart that pinched painfully at seeing the romance play out for everyone in Roswell to see. “Alex, I know you guys are dating, you didn’t have to lie about that and pretend you had gone to that gym.”

“Were dating,” Alex patiently corrected. “Pay attention, Michael. I just said it was doomed from the start.”

“Because he didn’t drink coffee?”

“Because I was engaging in a deep cover operation that involved a fake gym membership, rescheduling my appointments to the afternoon and blocking out time in my mornings all, so I could see you.” The gears were still turning too slowly for Alex’s liking as he rolled his eyes at Michael and continued, “I ended it with Forrest about a month ago. Or well, he ended it with me because I was always too busy in the morning for breakfast and I never wanted to stay over at his.”

Michael blinked, then looked down at his laptop. The ancient fan and processor were making a soft whine of effort, much like his own brain at the moment. Alex was single. Alex has been single for over a month. A month where he didn’t mention it once during their get-togethers.

Alex exhaled slowly, draining the latte before placing the cup out of range. “I’m really trying to use my words here, but you have exactly one minute to understand what I’m saying before I have to get creative-”

“Are you saying that you-”

“Yes-”

“Still want me?”

“I never stopped,” Alex reached for Michael’s hand, stilling the rapid clicking. “I came here because I wanted to be honest with you. It occurred to me that somewhere along the line, those meetups for coffee had basically become the most important part of my day. I … I was turning them into dates in my head. With you.” He licked his lips, his eyes drifting down to Michael’s mouth, causing Michael to bite his own lip in response. The anticipation between them thickened, until Alex groaned softly, his head briefly ducking toward Michael’s. “In the past, I’ve been guilty of thinking we were on the same page, and we weren’t, so I’m- Michael, I will still be your friend no matter what, but I want-”

This time, Michael didn’t let him finish and closed the scant distance between them on the bed to kiss Alex. The laptop fell to the side of their legs as Alex surged into it, pushing Michael down flat on the mattress in his eagerness. Michael opened for Alex, letting him have whatever he wanted and buried his fingers in the soft, black hair as they traded kisses.

Suddenly, a bubble of laughter burst from Michael’s chest, the lightness of the situation that felt almost too good to be real spread through his veins. “Oh my god, you brought me coffee to tell me that getting coffee together wasn’t just getting coffee for you, Alex-”

“Shut up!”

“You need a new job, nothing in intel, sweetheart-”

“I am, I did, that is.” Alex lifted his eyebrow at Michael’s too-still pause before he sweetly brushed the long stubborn curl out of Michael’s face, “Done with the Air Force as of next month.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that too.”

#malex fic #getting back together #this was supposed to be 5 sentences #malex #roswell new mexico #mention of forlex #malex is endgame #jule1122

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asphyxiateher · 3 years

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Only Monsters Come Out at Night

A/N: Debating on whether or not I should put this on AO3. Thoughts? Do I need to edit what I have before posting on my favorite website? Anyways, I’m really into horror and I’d like to try my hand at focusing on MC’s descent into madness while falling for her captors. Dimitrescu Sisters x OFC (Desdemona) Summary: Desdemona, her twin brother and best friend are on vacation in Romania when things go horribly wrong the moment they run out of gas. Desdemona has the misfortune of enchanting the monsters that decided to terrorize her group.

It was a cold, pitch black night in the northeastern mountainous region of Romania, a heavy fog enveloping the roads which made it nearly impossible for any source of light to pierce through the gloom. This did not bode well for Desdemona and her friends as they dared to venture through the treacherous weather in order to reach their destination. The humble village of Bran should have been a welcome sight by now although from where the unlucky travelers were currently stranded, Desdemona had her doubts. To make matters worse, her best friend, Veronica, shoved a crumpled map of Brasov, Romania into her boyfriend’s hands and demanded answers. Her hot-headed friend was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

“Desmond, are you sure we’re headed in the right direction? None of this seems to make sense!”, Veronica exclaimed as she nervously rummaged through her shoulder bag for yet another cigarette. She struggled to light her cigarette this time, the harsh winter’s wind blowing hard against her bare hands caused them to shake violently.

Desmond sighed in exasperation and ran his fingers through his messy chestnut brown hair, pushing wild dark curls away from his eyes.

“You think the shopkeeper gave us the wrong directions to fuck with us because we’re tourists? I knew we were gonna get shit signal out here in the bum fuck middle of nowhere but come on, the old guy looked knowledgeable. Can’t blame me for trustin’ him.” Desmond casually replied with a shrug. He then took a moment to straighten the map again before folding it neatly and tucking it into his pocket.

Desdemona was of the same mind as her twin. It seemed likely that the locals would be completely burnt out from the flocks of American tourists invading their hometown just to squawk about the castle that inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula. How exhausting it must be to constantly point out where to go to book a tour or who to call to arrange such things when the internet exists. In hindsight, Desdemona should have known better than to bug the polite yet obviously impatient shopkeeper about their vacation plans.

“Think about it, V, Desmond has a point. The guy probably gave us the run around for shits and giggles. You know, it would have been fine taking a wrong turn and then having to backtrack all the way back into town, but we should have just stayed the night at the Inn. Now we’re outta gas and it’s fucking freezing out here.” Desdemona added, now hugging herself tightly and occasionally rubbing her arms to keep warm for as much as possible.

Veronica growled but relented as she took a long drag of her cigarette, her foot resting against their rented vehicle. She took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. Snowflakes began to drift downwards, and it only fueled Veronica’s anxiety about being stranded in the middle of nowhere in the dark. “Alright, alright, we can either freeze to death in this piece of shit,” Veronica began as she kicks the van for good measure, “or we can freeze to death out there looking for shelter. I think I see a path over there that we can take to find what we need. It might lead us to people who can help us, or it might lead us to certain death. All I know is that we need to make a decision now, it’s starting to snow.” Desmond grins and wraps his arm around Veronica’s waist, pulling her close and pecking her on the cheek. “To certain death it is! Des, grab the essentials and let’s head out. According to the map, there are a few small villages in the surrounding area. Chances are we’ll stumble into one of them eventually and find shelter. We’ll get this mess sorted out.” Desmond eagerly stepped away from Veronica’s embrace and stepped towards the beaten van.

After a few moments of scrounging around for what they deemed important, Desdemona ended up with a backpack full of snacks, water, spare clothes, and the first aid kid. Veronica settled for an entire carton of cigarettes and a few spare lighters because you know, it was “absolutely essential” to her survival in a foreign land. Desmond found a flashlight and decided that going light would be preferable to him in case they ran into any trouble. They paved the way forward, following the path that strayed away from the lonely sliver of road. Turning back to get a final look at the abandoned van, Desdemona swallowed the surge of fear that was beginning to creep up on her. She had seen enough horror movies in her lifetime knowing that this probably wasn’t going to end up well for her little group. The logical side of her brain, what little rational thoughts she had left, gnawed their way through her brain begging to be voiced out and heard.

‘Turn back around, it’s safer to stay put and wait until morning! This is dangerous and you know it!’

Desdemona reluctantly glanced back at her brother walking ahead with Veronica hand in hand and the younger twin suddenly stopped in her tracks. Maybe she should stay behind just in case while her gregarious brother searched for help in these mountains; after all, he was far more easygoing and could easily charm the most stubborn of fools into helping him.

“Des, what’s wrong? I thought we all agreed that we should stick together.” Veronica called out to her, uncertainty lacing her tone as her eyes flicked back and forth between the van and a terrified looking Desdemona.

Nervously fidgeting in place, Desdemona struggles to settle the conflicted thoughts warring in her mind. She knows that staying behind and waiting for help would be the wisest course of action, but there was safety in numbers. There’s danger lurking beyond the vast expanse of mountains that surrounded them and she would be utterly defenseless if left alone. Desdemona’s instincts were begging her to go back to the van but the connection she shared with her twin demanded that she follow him through the sketchy path that would most likely lead to their demise. She couldn’t let anything happen to Desmond, she would never forgive herself if something happened to him out here.

With a shaky resolve, Desdemona straightened up and gazed back at Veronica with a small smile on her face. “I’m just nervous, you know. Desmond and I binge watched all the Wrong Turn movies last Saturday so being out here alone in the dark is uh, freaking me out a little. I’ll be fine, though, let’s just keep going.” Desdemona lied as she rushed over to her best friend who rolled her eyes at the revelation.

“No wonder you’re acting all sketch, Des. First of all, binge watching horror movies the weekend before your vacation was stupid as hell so now you’re all hyped up over nothing. Secondly, Wrong Turn sucks. Y’all should have binged Hatchet, Danielle Harris is so hot!” Veronica declared, eager to get conversation going as the three of them trekked through a rocky and narrow trail that led to who knows where.

Desmond was quick to reply in defense of his favorite horror movie franchise and Desdemona was thankful to hear them bicker back and forth. The conversation drowned out the sound of cold whispers tickling naked branches in the distance, the loud crunching of their footsteps on the snow-covered ground, and ravens crying out above them. It was so eerie and something about it all didn’t sit right with Desdemona. She hooked an arm around Veronica’s free arm and together they discussed their favorite horror movies. Veronica could tell her best friend was still a little spooked, so she pulled her closer until she was pressed against her side to provide as much comfort as she could give.

The trail continued to narrow the further they moved along but nothing they observed thus far gave the impression that that anything was out of the ordinary. When they reached a clearing, Desmond sighed with relief. His breath steaming the frigid air was nearly the only thing they could see ahead if it weren’t for the flashlight providing what little comforting light source they had. The snow fall began to pick up the pace but it wasn’t blinding, thankfully. Desmond brushed aside large shrubs and stepped further into the winding path, coming to a full stop when he realized what lay ahead of the weary travelers.

The trio stared in awe at the overpowering sight of a 15th century castle looming over a quiet village sheltering underneath a blanket of darkness, or what Desdemona assumed was its shadow. No amount of fog could hide the monstrosity that was the architectural brilliance of this castle that Desdemona saw before her very eyes.

“Desmond, honey, where the hell do you think you’re going? Don’t leave Dezzy and I behind!” Veronica suddenly shrieked as she sprinted after her overly excited boyfriend down the hill that led into the village. Desmond turned around and could only offer a sheepish smile with a shrug before eagerly running into the unknown. Desdemona tore her gaze away from the castle and spurred into action, jumping and running as fast as she could in order to catch up with her twin.

Desmond was energized by both the cool crisp air and the promising sight of civilization, but that energy was quickly drained out of him when he encountered something wholly unexpected. Veronica reached the eldest Hawthorne sibling and was about to admonish him for leaving the two frightened girls behind, but she was quickly shushed by Desmond. Desdemona quietly approached the scene, her eyes widening when she realized that this was not the village of Bran at all.

They had indeed reached a small village but it looked completely obliterated. The houses looked shattered and broken, as if something gigantic and menacing had come through and picked away at the people that once inhabited this community one by one. Desmond cautiously led the group forward, calling out for any signs of survivors. This wasn’t on the itinerary…

Veronica was on the verge of tears, her hands covering her mouth as she observed the tragic scene before her. Every now and then, she would step into a broken home and call out to somebody – anybody- only to step back out with a grim look on her face. She pulled out her cell phone and attempted to dial emergency services only to be met with disappointment.

“There’s blood.” Desmond says quietly. His eyes peer over the trail of fresh blood and fear grips him the moment the flashlight scans over the corpse of a rotting horse. “Fuck, that stench – we need to get the fuck out of here now!” Veronica cries, gagging and turning away from the horrific view.

Desdemona would have expressed an equally strong reaction had she not felt a sense of…wrongness abruptly assaulting the atmosphere. The moment they stepped foot into the village, the environment reacted to their presence and that did not sit right with Desdemona at all.

“Desmond, do you hear that?” Desdemona asked, her voice laced with terror. Desmond Hawthorne heard the fear in his sister’s quivering voice and it made him feel uneasy. “I don’t hear anything, Des.” He replies as he reaches for Veronica’s hand and squeezes it tight. The couple began to frantically look around them as they slowly backed into Desdemona. As soon as they grouped up again, both Veronica and Desmond wrapped themselves around the youngest sister. The oppressive silence sent a whole new wave of fear over the group before something insidious could be heard approaching them in the distance. Desdemona gasped when she heard maniacal giggling and it was getting louder. A fluttering of what sounds like wings -bats, ravens, perhaps- advancing towards the group sent chills down Desdemona’s spine. What the hell was coming after them?

Desmond flashed his light from side to side before it settled on the massive black ball of insects that instantly appeared before him. The insects dissipated and somehow revealed the shape of a human being wearing a dark robe and hood. The only thing he could truly make out was the color of a red pendant wrapped around dainty, pale skin and a blood smeared smirk. Desmond’s heart dropped in absolute horror and panic immediately set in.

“RUN!” He screamed, taking off with a terrified Veronica in tow. Neither of them looked back to make sure Desdemona was following. The flashlight dropped, and it briefly circled the ground. The flickering light revealed two other black masses of insects approaching the younger Hawthorne sibling who was paralyzed with fear. All she could hear in that moment was delirious laughter coming from the women that revealed themselves two seconds later, the insects dissolving into thin air right before her very eyes.

The crazed woman standing directly in front of Desdemona leaned forward and took her time sniffing her pretty prey who stared at her with petrified gray eyes. Desdemona found it alarming that despite the lunatic’s appearance, dried blood caked on her lips and unruly red hair and a wild, untamed look in her eyes, she found her quite…striking. Perhaps she was going mad. None of this made sense, how could this be happening right now?

“Mmm, sisters, look at what I found. Such a pretty young thing all for me and she smells oh so delicious.” The woman with the green pendant spoke, giggling madly at the profound effect she had on Desdemona.

“Daniela, you’re delusional, she’s mine; I’m the one who picked up on her tasty scent!” The one with the red pendant spoke after she turned her attention to the only human who didn’t run from them.

The brunette with the yellow pendant reached over and yanked on Desdemona’s hair so hard back, Desdemona thought her life was over. She bared her teeth as she skimmed her nose across the young woman’s neck. Her tongue darted out between blood smeared lips and left a wet trail, causing the smaller woman’s breath to hitch at the unwelcome contact.

“Mmm, she smells so utterly divine. Bela, by the way, it wasn’t you who found MY new pet, it was me! You ungrateful wretches always want to touch what’s mine!” The hooded figure’s grip on her hair tightened and Desdemona whined, causing all three women to delight in her torment.

What Desdemona couldn’t figure out was what they wanted to do with her exactly and why they were fighting over her like three starved wild dogs fighting over a piece of meat. She needed to get out of there fast. “LET GO OF MY SISTER, YOU UGLY CUNTS!” Desmond’s angry voice broke through in the distance and all three creatures turned their attention on the young man who dared interrupt dinner time.

Desdemona decided this was the time to take advantage of their distraction and she quickly slipped away, sprinting as fast as she could to the nearest unoccupied house. Desmond, relieved that his sister broke free from whatever those things were, spun on his heel and ran the opposite direction. He could only hope that all three of them would make it out of this godforsaken village alive.

All three women threw their heads back and laughed wildly into the air as they knew catching their prey would be much more satisfying when they caught them alone in isolated surroundings. It added to their fear and it made the blood taste that much sweeter.

“The hunt is on, sisters. Leave the pretty plaything alive, but the others, we will present to our dear mother as gifts. We’ll make the new pet watch mother undo their very lives; it’ll only make her that much more delicious when we have our fill.” The one with the yellow pendant stated as she sniffed at the air, shuddering when Desdemona’s irresistible scent filled her nostrils once more.

Desdemona found refuge in a large house a few yards away and slammed the front door shut when she ran inside. She quickly assessed what she assumed was the living room, she found a bookcase and summoned whatever strength she had and brought it down in front of the door. She heard something clawing at the door the instant she blocked the entrance, the door shaking violently and mad laughter filling her ears once more.

Desdemona shakily reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, turning on the flashlight and began to look for another way out.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, Jesus Christ! What the fuck are those things!? Where’s Desmond? Is Veronica alright? How the hell do I get out of here? I just want to go home!’ Desdemona’s mind was running through a million thoughts per second but she couldn’t for the life of her settle on anything that would give her a moment’s peace. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she explored the dark home, her hands stretched out in front of her as she searched for anything that would provide answers to her problems. When she found a door near the kitchen, she cautiously opened it and cursed the eerie creaking sound that followed. It was discovered that the door led to a cellar of some kind and Desdemona rushed down the stairs without closing the door behind her. She slowly scanned the large open space and saw that this home had been recently ransacked or rummaged through. Clothes were scattered across the floor, furniture had been broken in half and tossed carelessly to the side but Desdemona found a hallway beyond the room she was in. ‘That must be the way out. Hurry up and grab something to protect yourself with!’

Desdemona carefully tip toed around the clutter, her phone flashing from side to side but to no avail, she couldn’t find anything that would prove harmful to whatever those monsters were outside. The woman nearly tripped over and fell when her foot stepped in something thick and wet, causing her foot to slip forward. Desdemona quickly steadied herself on a cabinet but it didn’t make her feel any better when she realized her fingers were covered in a thick, red substance.

Her breathing growing heavier, Desdemona flashed her phone light over to the cabinet only to find that it was covered in blood – a lot of it, to be exact and it was still dripping on the floor as though it were fresh.

All color drained from Desdemona’s face when she heard pained howling coming from the village; it was Desmond and he was screaming for help. Her twin was in danger and here she was selfishly trying to find a way to preserve her own life.

She quickly twisted around to run towards the howling but she stopped dead in her tracks when a black mass of insects appeared before her. The cloaked figure could only be identified by the color of her green pendant and a delirious smile plastered on her face. Fresh blood dripped down her chin and Desdemona’s eyes reluctantly followed the pool of blood forming at their feet. There was a sickle in her right hand and it was covered in blood, much to Desdemona’s dismay.

Desdemona began to tremble, overpowered by the frightening sight and the implications that followed a bloodied sickle carried by a madwoman. “The sound of your heart hammering against your chest is like music to my ears, pretty thing. Do not fret, my beauty, the moment we met I knew you were special. You’re meant to be mine, we’re meant to be!” She whispers madly, her tongue wetting her lips as her eyes rake over Desdemona’s body slowly and deliberately.

Desdemona doesn’t know what she’s talking about and she doesn’t want to know. Before she could form any kind of response, she’s pinned against the bloody cabinet behind her. She gasps in surprise and that seems to trigger the creature into action.

Desdemona screams as the hooded woman lunges at her collarbone and pierces through her skin with her razor sharp teeth. Desdemona weakly clutches at the woman’s shoulders, growing lightheaded from the sudden blood loss that was occurring. Feeling the woman about to collapse in her arms, Daniela pulls back and savors the taste of her blood. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she sloppily licks the blood off her mouth and regains what little self-control she had left to preserve her pretty plaything for a little while longer.

When dazed gray eyes meet hers, Daniela’s cold, black heart skips a beat. She had never seen anything more beautiful. So she raises her sickle, causing Desdemona’s eyes to widen in panic and Daniela can’t help but giggle a little.

“Don’t worry, my beauty, I’ll be gentle with you. The hideous man-thing and his bitch aren’t going to be as lucky as you, I hope. You deserve special treatment.” Daniela whispers, her fingers caressing her prey’s tear-stained cheek before swinging the sickle with full forced into the back of Desdemona’s thigh.

Desdemona remembers a high-pitched shriek escaping her but nothing else seems to come to mind after that. She remembers her vision blurring and a creeping darkness soothing her to sleep but what happened after, nothing. She enters the haunting abyss that welcomes her with black tendrils pulling her from reality, sleep coming to her easily. With better luck, she’ll never have to wake up again.

Only fools believe in luck as the nightmare has only just begun.

#resident evil village #RE8 #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #dimitrescu daughters x ofc #lady dimitrescu daughters x ofc #Holy shit this was just chapter one #I need an editor or something but bruh #I had to get this out of my system #other people may not like it but i did it for me lol #I need more dimitrescu sisters x ofc content

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evabellasworld · 3 years

Text

I Give You My Heart

Chapter 3

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

13+ and above for cursing and mild violence

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Summary: When Riyo Chuchi’s life was threatened, Commander Fox and Jedi Knight Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young are assigned to bring the senator back to her home planet Pantora, where she will be safe from harm. But when the assassin knows her whereabouts, it’s up to Fox, Lira, Eva, and Riyo to work together and stop the assassin.

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Scratching below her chin, Riyo stared at the checkerboard as Fox glanced at her, tapping his fingers on the lamp table. She moved her eyes around the board and focused on his chess piece, which the queen. According to her knowledge, the queen is the most powerful piece in chess and could eliminate hers if she’s not careful.

Chess has always been a favourite game, especially when she’s playing with her parents. Her mother, who was descended from nobles, would emphasize the importance of playing chess and how it is applicable in life, especially law and politics.

“In your career, you must learn to study your opponents in order to push yourself to success,” Riyo recalled her advice. “If you give away your position, they will take advantage of you and pounce on you like feral dogs when they see the chance. That is the first rule of law and politics, never open up your vulnerabilities to others, no matter how nice they seem.”

It was ironic, really, because Riyo finds herself opening up to Commander Fox, despite her mother’s warning when she delved into politics. He was no politician, only a soldier bred for war. He doesn’t take bribes or cheat or even tell a lie just for his personal reasons. No, that’s not Commander Fox that Riyo knows. The Commander Fox that she knows was honourable, brave, and honest, and right now, he��s waiting for her next move in the game.

“Are you going to move or what?” Fox groaned, resting his face on his palms. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, waiting for you to move your chess piece.”

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, Fox,” Riyo let out a chuckle as she moved her pawn sideways, taking the queen out of the game. Fox’s eyes widened as he watched Riyo placing his chess piece beside her on the lamp table, with the other pieces that she had taken from the board.

He grunted as he desperately counted his chess piece that was left on the board, with only his king, his knight, his bishop, and his rook spared, for now. Since this was the first time he’s playing this game with someone else, it’s no surprise to him that he would lose to a senator, who was born at the rice farm and was formally educated at a prestigious law school.

Despite that, Fox is determined to win this game, even when the outcome is not in favour of him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath as he pushed his rook forward, pushing away one of her pawns. “Your turn, senator,” he reminded her, giving her a cocky grin.

Riyo could only let out a mischievous grin as she moved her queen sideways, facing his king. “Checkmate,” she declared, making Fox’s smile disappear. “You should move your king to a safer place.”

Fox blinked and sighed sheepishly as he moved his king one step away from the queen, only for Riyo to gestured her head at his chess piece. “My rook is a few steps away from you.”

“Goddammit,” he whined as he moved his king to his right, only to notice her knight, that could ambush him in an L-shaped. Fox felt a drip of sweat on his forehead. With nowhere for his king to move on the board, the only thing he could do now was to admit defeat towards his opponent, who he also finds intelligent, something that most senators, besides Senator Amidala and Senator Organa. “Alright, Riyo, you won. Congratulations on your victory in chess.”

“Why thank you, kind sir,” she smiled to herself, as she placed the board away, adjusting her legs that are buried underneath a thin blanket. “You were good too, just need a bit more practice, yeah?”

“I guess you're right,” he got up, helping her to pack the board game for her since she needed plenty of rest from the blasts. “Anyways, how are you holding up so far? Good, bad, or neutral?”

“More on the bad side, unfortunately,” Riyo sighed. “I can't help but worry about my friends, especially Bibi. I want to wish that she was alright, but at the same time, I feel like she may not be able to make it through, considering the blast was...well, intense.”

Fox tightened his lips as he sat beside her and squeezed her hand, much to her delight. “I understand where you are coming from, Riyo, but worrying too much won't do any good to you. You need to relax if you want to get better as soon as possible.”

“I know, Fox,” she squeezed his hands back. “But I can't help it, especially since it was rather unexpected.”

“Yeah, it was. I didn't think that the assassin would be smart enough to put a bomb in the Senate building, especially if it's a tripwire, you know. We're trying to figure out how did that person snuck in, or how did they set the bomb, but so far, there was nothing.”

“It's a shame, huh? There are people willing to let go of their morals just to gain some credits, even when they know they are in the wrong.”

“Yeah, it is. I guess assassins and politicians are no different, except for their willingness to get their hands dirty. While bounty hunters and assassins would openly admit that they killed someone, senators cower when things don't go their way, no offense to you, Riyo.”

“None was taken, actually,” Riyo chuckled. “You have a good point there. It is unfortunate that those same senators who swore to serve their people are the ones who won't hesitate when they accept luxury gifts in exchange for selling off their soul.”

With all the talks of negativity between the both of them, Riyo felt like changing the subject instead just to ease her worries about Bibi, whom she heard she's in a critical condition from one of the nurses that served her with kindness. “Anyways, how are you and your siblings? I heard from Lip that your duty as a Coruscant Guard has expanded. Is that true?”

“Yeah, it has,” he nodded. “The Chancellor wanted us to take most of the Senate Guards' duty since there was a spread of corruption within their ranks.”

“I hope you are getting yourself a good rest, Fox,” she advised him. “Yves told me that she caught you dozing off in your office a few nights ago. Are you alright?”

“Well, the Chancellor gave me a massive pile of paperwork yesterday for me to complete them by this week. I ended up dozing while I was doing half of them, and then Yves woke me up.”

“Oh dear, please don’t overwork yourself, Fox. You need to rest if you want to perform well in your job.”

“I just can’t help it, Ri. If I don’t get all of my paperwork done, then I have to deal with the consequences of the Chancellor himself, and you know how he is.”

“He is particular in every paperwork we sent,” she sighed. “And if it's not perfect, he'll ask us to do it again, until he is satisfied with his answer. But he won't say it directly to your face, though, he would be-”

“Subtle about it,” he finished her sentence, letting out a chuckle. “Yeah, I know how things work when it comes to the Chancellor.”

“At least he's tolerable, unlike most senators I've worked with.”

Fox doubted Riyo's words, but then again, she is a sentient being. The Chancellor puts on a charade and acts all nice to the senators and the Jedi, but when it comes to the Corrie Guards, well, things could have been worse for him and his siblings.

Before he could utter a word, his comlink beeped, prompting him to pick it up. “Lip, anything so far?”

“Sir, you have to get Senator Chuchi out of here,” the trooper warned him. “There is an assassin in his hospital.”

“What the-” Fox exclaimed, springing out from his seat. “Where is he?”

In a moment, there was a red dot pointed on Riyo's chest, prompting him to shield the senator in his embrace. The windows shattered as the wall was shot with a sniper rifle.

Riyo finds her breathing turning rapidly as she holds her grasps around Fox's arms, praying that she doesn't get hit by her killer-for-hire.

It felt like a second to be discovered and almost get her own life taken away. She could do nothing but to get herself to safety and hope for the best. But at the same time, she worries about Fox.

What if Fox gets himself killed while he catches the killer? She thought as she saw the nurses rushing inside her ward, wondering whether she is alright.

“The killer is in Level 39 of the Enterprise Tower,” Fox commed his troops. “All squad, set your weapon to stun and reprimand this suspect immediately.”

“What about you, Commander?” Riyo asked, addressing him by his rank.

“I'll be taking you to safety, Senator, now come on.”

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kinsbin · 4 years

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Family Dinner

Title: Family Dinner Ship: Alexys/Michael [Self Insert/OC] Word Count: 2100

Summary: The Seeds come over to the Sinclaire’s for a dinner. Joseph’s presence causes tension with Michael as he sets his sights on Alexys, and it’s up to her to calm her boyfriend down.

A/N: Another comm for @space-sweetheart of her and @nadineselfships‘s OC Michael!!! This one was fun because Seed and Sinclair Dyamics are a wILD RIDE.

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It was tense.

The room had a sort of fog over it. It was the heavy set and dangerous type of fog that was near visible in the emotions of every human being standing in the doorway of the Sinclaire’s ranch. It suffocated each person and crushed their lungs in their chest as eyes warily searched about one another. Alexys could feel each breath she took in and let out, the exhale of air palpable in her sighs and she was suddenly all too aware of her breathing as she moved and shifted awkwardly from side to side from where she was standing. God, she thought with a bit of an annoyed huff through closed lips, she hated when things got like this. It made her want to disappear into a hole and wait for the tense air to pass. To hibernate through the winter of biting attitude and distrust and hopefully wake up in a world with a better view of itself.

Instead she was forced to sit through it. God she hated when the Seed Siblings came to visit the ranch.

It was necessary, she knew. With Nadine and John being an item, there was a natural sort of tension that threaded through the fabric of their family now. Michael always complained in private to her about it, and the memories would make her giggle from time to time as she brought them up like a movie reel in the back of her head. Her boyfriend pouting as they held one another, nuzzling into her shoulder and complaining bitterly about how much he didn’t trust John. How much he was worried for his sister and how he only let him live because Mother said he was allowed to. If he had ever hurt anyone in the family again, Nadine especially, he’d have to kill him. Each word was punctuated with anger, a dark grip on her waist that promised his threats to be true. She suppressed a smile at the memory.

With John, though, came the rest of the Seed siblings. The very same force that longed to kill and destroy the empire Michael and his family had built up after so many years. They were welcome into the Sinclaire’s home under a very specific set of circumstances in order to check on their beloved brother. Mother was good like that. She understood the importance of family and making sure they were safe at all times, and allowing the enemies into her base of operations even with the entire family present was more than a polite gesture.

Still, the Seeds always seemed to want more.

James didn’t trust it, of course. Not after the incident with Xena. Even now, in the midst of greeting the entering rival family, his girlfriend remained tight at his side. Narrowed eyes met each one’s gaze with an arm tucked tight to the smaller girls body, practically melding her into his form. Michael, likewise, kept a sharp eye trailed on each Seed as they entered the room. Polite greetings made their rounds dully through lips that did not match eyes as the group watched one another like cats about to pounce. Alexys tried to smile but it felt uneasy, even with Michael by her side.

“It’s so nice that all of you are able to join us for dinner,” Mother spoke as though she did not notice the tension held tight in the room around them, her smile as warm as her soul as she nodded, “Seeing a family catch up with one another is always heartwarming to see.”

“Seeing the enemy in our ranch is less than heartwarming.” Michael’s tone was dull and sharp under his guarded facade. Alexys looked up to the man at her side and noted the way his emerald eyes hardened like stone, jaded and sharp as it observed the group before him as they sat down at the table having been set by both herself and Nadine. They had wanted a nice family dinner for a change, at least that was the hope they had tittered about in the kitchen while cutting up vegetables in preparation for the festivities. A pleasant meal where, for once, no politics would be discussed and no issues would be brought up. A hopeful meal that they would be able to enjoy in the company of their significant others and their families alike.

She could see now that was a short lived dream. Especially as Joseph’s (the eldest of the siblings she remembered) eyes settled on Michael’s and the two shared a long, hard moment of eye contact that felt like two dogs posturing at one another for dominance. The edge of shock that rumbled through the entire table from their stares alone was enough to crumble the infrastructure of whatever hopes the rest of the family had dared to keep in their hearts about peace. Alexys let out a sigh through clenched teeth. It was going to be one hell of a dinner, certainly.

“The pleasure is all ours,” Joseph spoke with a smile as his eyes turned from Michael’s and to Mother’s instead, the facade of his grin all business as it hid something under it. Alexys could sense it, though she didn’t know how. She’d like to think that the time she had spent with Michael helped. That he had helped her to read between the lines of emotions and search for the truth buried deep inside of them. Hell, that was sometimes the only way she could fully understand Michael. Though, nowadays, he let her. He let her see his heart… To reach into him and understand him… He even did so with a smile on his lips, soft and loving towards her.

Alexys tried to hide the blush that burned on her cheeks. She shifted closer to Michael and her hand sought his out in the blindness of her sides. She felt the warmth of his fingertips and made her move to grip them as they sat together. Michael’s body tensed for a moment, eyes flickering over to her, and the ghost of a smile spread itself warmly on his mouth as his hand took hers in his own. It wrapped around hers and squeezed with a firm but gentle grip that signaled that, yes, he was here. He was at her side. As always, it would never change. The feeling made Alexys feel safer. It was more secure at his side. The lights around her seemed brighter and she was dizzy with the love that seemed to pulsate through their bodies as they touched.

This was where she wanted to be.

She just wished Joseph was able to see that.

The very thought of the man, who was still so clearly watching her, made her skin crawl as she bit her lip to offer a soft nod of acknowledgement towards him. Joseph nodded back, as though he thought they were sharing some sort of meaningful conversation. In her grip she could feel Michael’s hand tense up, a growl echoed somewhere in the back of his throat as he glared at the other man across from her.

“You’re looking at me like that again.” Joseph addressed Michael calmly as he continued to watch the other man.

MIchael scoffed, his tone of voice sharp as he raised an eyebrow towards Joseph. Blue and green eyes flashed like water and earth as they made careful note of one another and Alexys could already tell that this was not going to go well. She groaned internally and, from the corner of her eye, she caught Nadine and Xena shoving even more bread into their mouths in an effort to pretend they didn’t notice the scenario unfolding before them. She fought back a laugh at the two before focusing back on the men who had apparently decided they needed to do whatever it was they were doing at the dinner table.

“Like what?” Michael challenged as he stabbed his fork into a piece of potato with absent enthusiasm.

“Like I’m going to steal something from you,” Joseph observed with a tilt of his head, “Something you can’t replace in your heart…”

Michael growled darky under his breath, his hand gripping his fork harder with every passing moment of tension as he sneered, “Oh? Well, I mean, if you’re going to bring it up, this month marks the… what…. Third time you’ve tried to apprehend my significant other against her will? I must say you get points for creativity but, god, you piss me off each time.”

“Michael,” Nadine groaned somewhere in the corner, “Can we not do this while we-”

“Is that what you’re upset about? For me taking your toy from you?”

The words left Joseph’s lips and then Michael stood up. HIs hand freed itself from Alexys’ as he rose, gripping his knife tight in his hands and slamming it down across the table as he leaned forward, all but climbing over the furniture to reach Joseph. Joseph, in turn, did not flinch. He watched Michael approach him with the rage building in his eyes. The knife in Michael’s hand had imbedded itself sharply in the wood.

“You want to repeat that?” Michael’s voice was low with rage, “You’re telling me you think she’s just a TOY?”

“Is she not to you?” Joseph was genuinely surprised, it permeated his tone of voice as he stared up at the man threatening him with an even expression.

Alexys intervened then, reaching out and taking Michael’s arm in her hand. She could feel that he was shaking, his body vibrating at a violent speed as he physically restrained himself from stabbing the knife into Joseph’s flesh then and there. The rest of the table was tense with the confrontation, everyone watching with baited breath for the events to occur. If anything that bad were to happen, everyone knew, there would be a war at the table of Jesus tonight.

“Michael,” Alexys murmured as she tugged at him gently, “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

It took a long, tense second for Michael to relent, settling down and away from the table. The couple stood up and existed the dining room, leaving the group in a sea of quiet as they moved to one of the nearby bathrooms. Alexys brought Michael into it, locking the door behind them as she sighed and turned to face him.

She hated seeing him like this. Like he always got with the Seeds so close to him. He didn’t care about their disapproval. Nor their malice towards him, but, when that was directed towards Alexys? Towards her health and safety? He always became so livid.

Reaching out, she touched his cheeks. She held his face in her hands and brought him to look up to her with a soft smile. He held her gaze with his own worried one, body tense as a hand brought itself up and touched the top of hers, holding it close and pushing his cheek into her soft palm with a sigh.

“I worry…” Michael murmured, “One day what he say will make sense to you and… you will go with him of your own accord. You will think I use you as a toy but-! I promise, you are nothing like that to me. You are…. The most beautiful thing that’s been put in my presence since my life here and I will never, ever, take that for granted.”

Alexys smiled and leaned forward, her lips finding MIchael’s in a reassuring kiss that he returned with care, always so careful to handle her as they kissed and shared their emotions through the passion of their lips. She felt her body draw itself closer to his, pouring her emotions into the soul of the kiss they shared and running a hand through his hair as she sighed into his lips. When they pulled away, she put her forehead on his and he sighed, his breaths coming into tandem with her own. He was finally relaxing and, with a single smile, Alexys reassured him in a gentle tone of voice:

“I’m yours, and, I know you’ll never hurt me on purpose. I trust you, Michael, and love you and only you the most.”

And to that he smiled, the comfort she offered insurmountable as they shared the private moment together.

Things would be okay.

#self ship #self insert #self insert writing #self ship writing #writing commission #kinley writes #far cry 5 #far cry 5 oc #fc5oc

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raendown · 5 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2935 Chapter: 3/7 Summary: An accident at work leaves Tobirama blinded while his eyes are bandaged to heal from some rather nasty burns. Too busy with his own job to play the role of caretaker, wife too pregnant to place the burden on her, Hashirama calls upon his best friend Madara to stay with them and help Tobirama out in anyway he can. Madara isn’t exactly thrilled to play babysitter but he can see an opportunity when one comes along; this may be the chance he’s always waited for.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 3

When he woke there were two main clues to let Tobirama know that his nightmare had at least been polite enough to wake him up after morning arrived instead of in the middle of the night like usual. His first clue should have been the birds chirping happily just outside the window. In actuality it was the sound of Madara tripping over something in the hallway and screaming his demands for recompense at the top of his lungs, blaming Hashirama for whatever it was he’d stepped on.

Brotherly love aside, Tobirama figured the man was probably within his rights to blame Hashirama since his sibling did in fact have a terrible habit of just tossing his belongings about as it pleased him. It was something he’d promised to watch himself for until everyone in the house had both eyes working again so, really, if he had already fallen back in to bad habits then Tobirama was the last one who would step in to defend his honor on this.

Rolling over to one side, he dragged a pillow over his head and sent reluctant and silent thanks to the man outside for waking him in such a way the nightmare he’d been trapped in was cast out of his mind completely, leaving no room to doubt the reality around him. In less than a minute he was lying on his back again with a grimace baring his teeth because the burns on his face had yet to fully heal and, despite being mostly hidden under the bandages, they still hurt when he tried to lay face down. Tobirama sighed up at what he assumed was still his bedroom ceiling. He hoped so, at least. It would be just his luck to spontaneously develop the ability to teleport when he didn’t have his sight to properly appreciate or take advantage of such a power.

Although the ability to teleport out of a situation would have served him quite well the night before while Madara was trying to help him through his nightly ablutions. He appreciated the help getting to the bathroom and having his toothpaste handed over, that sort of thing had been helpful no matter how much he detested admitting it. What he had not appreciated was Madara hesitantly asking if he needed help aiming while he relieved himself. The neighbors had probably heard that screaming match.

Without the ability to see the clock Tobirama’s best guess was that it took a solid five minutes for Madara to stop yelling and stomp his way downstairs, the boom of his retreating footsteps trailed by an exhausted sounding Hashirama. Lying in bed for a while longer would have been nice if there was any chance of sleep returning but after the never-ending darkness of last night’s dreams Tobirama knew it was unlikely he would find any rest. With that in mind he rolled over and slowly got to his feet, shuffling across the carpet with one arm out until he reached the familiar wood of his closet door. It didn’t matter much which shirt he picked out since most of his clothing tended towards the same color scheme; almost all his shirts went perfectly fine with black or tan slacks and that described nearly every pair of pants he owned.

Barring that one plaid monstrosity Hashirama had picked up for him in France that he still didn’t understand the purpose of. What was he supposed to do with plaid pants? Halloween in July?

After he had an outfit picked out and he was reasonably sure the clothes were all on correctly Tobirama inched his way over to the door to step very carefully out in to the hallway. When Hashirama bought this house and he had first picked out the room he wanted to claim as his own, situating himself right at the top of the stairs for an easy escape from his brother’s madness had seemed like a great idea. Now all it did was make him nervous to know there was a death trap lying in wait just outside the door for unsuspecting sightless idiots to go tumbling down to their doom.

Voices in the kitchen downstairs told him that there were no witnesses to see the shame with which he lowered himself to the ground and butt-scooted most of the way down the long staircase. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it standing up, just that it was faster and made him feel a lot safer without the sensation of all that empty space around him. When he had counted out eighteen steps he very carefully pulled himself to his feet and clung to the banister with both hands while he descended the last seven or so, all of which could be seen from the kitchen if someone were to look around the corner at just the wrong angle and just the right time.

It was a good thing he did too because he had only just gone down the last step where carpet became polished wood flooring under his bare feet when footsteps left the kitchen, paused in the doorway, and then rushed towards him in a sudden flurry.

“You should have called for one of us to come help you!” Hashirama’s hands fluttered between his arms and shoulders, trying to find somewhere to support him.

“Nonsense.” Tobirama swatted the flustered hands away and continued towards the other voices he could hear. “I am perfectly capable of moving from one room to the other without hurting myself.”

“You might be but Madara is not,” Mito informed him as he stepped in to the kitchen.

Madara's silence carried a particularly mortified air to it and it said something that he failed to respond to such an easy jab. Instead he could be heard mumbling about eggs and then Tobirama heard the fridge rattle before the smell of – ketchup? That was definitely ketchup.

“I’m surprised that you’re even home right now, brother.” Turning the conversation back in another direction seemed safer than dwelling on the embarrassing events of last night.

“Actually I’m just here to check up on Mito and then I’ve got to go back since I’m still on call and it’s just easier to sleep in the rooms there.” From the ragged sound of his voice Tobirama could guess exactly what he would look like, the familiar manic state he got into when one thirty-six hour shift rolled straight in to another twenty-four hour shift and he barely found time to sleep or eat. Long shifts like these were always the culprit for the times when Hashirama would call him in the wee hours of the morning with strange questions like whether water was considered a beverage or if it was normal for a man to love his houseplants more than his cats. Hospital work came with horrors that some would never guess at.

When it came time for Hashirama to leave again and the two lovebirds started in with their disgusting goodbye habits even Tobirama voted for them to scram and do it somewhere else. He might not be able to see but he could definitely still hear and the wet sounds of his brother making out with his sister-in-law was not the sort of thing one should be forced to listen to when one lacked the ability to seek out some other kind of distraction.

It wasn’t until the same gross sounds of farewell actually picked up again from down the hallway that Tobirama realized he was now alone in a room with Madara and frowned. Blind or no he wasn’t going to just sit here and let someone like Madara run his entire life. He could still do some things. Like getting himself a drink, that seemed fairly easy. Standing up was pretty simple and he remembered hearing the fridge directly to his right, which would mean he’d been seated at the head of the table, so if he turned a sharp ninety degrees and took three steps forward he should find – yes. The smooth surface of a stainless steel refrigerator. Once he was there it was a simple process to open the door and trace his fingers along each shelf until he encountered a familiar shape that didn’t require anyone else to help him.

He made it back to his seat with no problems but he was still running his fingers over the top of his drink to find the opening when Madara cleared his throat.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I get you something else?”

“My brother would have you baby me,” Tobirama sneered, “but I can still do some things for myself.”

“Sure, sure. I just think it’s a little early to be drinking beer.”

Pausing just before he cracked open the can, Tobirama tilted his head down as if to stare at it. “Ah. I thought it was a can of soda.” Still not an early morning drink but he hadn’t wanted to ask for help pouring juice out of the jug. Finding a cup would have been easy enough; knowing when to stop pouring would have been a bit trickier.

“Do you…want a soda? Or…” Madara trailed off and Tobirama pushed the can of beer away from himself with a quiet sigh of defeat.

“I think Hashirama said he made orange juice yesterday.”

A minute later he was cradling a tall glass of juice between both hands while he sat and listened to the sounds of Madara thumping around the kitchen. Pots scraped on the stove burners, butter sizzled over the heat, and it took a bit but eventually he was able to figure out that the rapid thunking noise he could hear was the sound of something being chopped up on the wooden cutting board. Mito usually used her fancy marble one when she cooked, though she also usually hid the good cookware when she was done with it so Hashirama couldn’t ruin anything when he inevitably got distracted while cooking. She had learned her lesson after the Great Pot Debacle six years ago.

Listening to the sounds of whatever Madara was cooking wouldn’t have given him much more information without his nose picking up certain familiar scents. Ketchup had been out earlier, so he assumed that everyone else had already eaten and that Madara was starting over again for his benefit, although he knew he couldn’t just assume eggs just because of the ketchup. Mito’s cravings did need to be taken in to account. Something in the pan spit in a way that sounded very different from boiling water so it definitely wasn’t noodles; his theory of eggs looked more and more likely by the second.

He was proved right when Madara shuffled across the kitchen with dragging footsteps and murmured a warning just before something ceramic hit the table with a muted thud. The smell of omelet was much heavier when it was sitting right under his nose.

“Fork by your right hand, knife just above your left. Two omelets on your plate and ketchup just above it.” Madara mumbled his instructions with the gruff voice of someone trying to act normal when they felt anything but. He probably found the situation a little awkward too, although he couldn’t possibly feel as awkward as Tobirama did having to give up such a major part of his life for several weeks.

The omelet, to Tobirama’s sheer horror, was absolutely delicious. Unlike the slapdash meals the man usually served after another frantic call from Hashirama begging him to come take mercy on them all, this simple breakfast was perfectly cooked with gooey cheese and diced vegetables worked through it for delicious little bursts of flavor. Tobirama almost felt bad for bracing himself to choke down another half-assed meal of microwaved bullshit but he was too busy scarfing down fluffy eggs that he could only assume were as golden and buttery looking as they tasted.

When he was done he wanted to ask for more. Pride kept his mouth shut, hands falling in to his lap after draining the last of his orange juice and setting his fork neatly in the center of his plate. Trying to eat without being able to see his food was an experience that he could only assume looked hilarious from an outside perspective and he didn’t want to give Madara any extra incentive to laugh at him.

“So. What’s on for today?”

“Hm? I don’t know about you but I’ve got work to do.” Madara's voice came from over by the sink despite not having made a sound after dropping off the eggs. Had he been intentionally making his footsteps noisy before?

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I can’t really do much right now. Hashirama’s been keeping me entertained and now that he’s run out of sick days to use–”

“Yeah, I don’t get sick days. Being self-employed means I have to work extra hard for my buck. I don’t have a boss to whine at when I need a bit of extra time, all I’ve got is pissy clients who think websites are as easy as ‘just make it more red’.”

Tobirama frowned in his direction as best he could. “Well what am I supposed to do then?”

“Don’t care,” was his answer. What a dick.

Actually things didn’t turn out half as bad as Tobirama thought they would. He followed Madara to the living room originally in the hope of annoying the man in to entertaining him somehow but within ten minutes he found there was no need, he was plenty entertained just listening in. If you had asked him before their conversation over breakfast he probably wouldn’t have remembered what the man actually did for a living since most of the time he tried not to pay too much attention to idiots. Even knowing the broad scope of what he was doing – something to do with web design he was pretty sure – didn’t really help though since Tobirama had no idea how coding worked. Coding was for nerds.

Yes he did realize the irony of a scientist calling anyone a nerd, thank you. He also didn’t care.

Listening to his companion now didn’t exactly help him understand what the big deal was with coding a new website from scratch or why it was so hard – but it did help him understand that it was, indeed, very difficult. Why else would Madara have kept up such a constant stream of profanity and complaints under his breath as his fingers ticked and tacked over the keyboard in an endlessly stuttering stream?

“Fucking semicolons,” he heard from across the room and wondered in what situation a semicolon could ever induce such rage. “Red. Needs to be more red. Too pink – rose? No, pink. White text won’t look good on that, asshole doesn’t know what he wants. No one will be able to read – black. It should be black. Where the fuck is the semicolon I swear to fuck I know you’re in here!? Oh. Oh I put a comma.” Madara heaved a sigh so deep one would think he’d just been informed of a close friend’s death and if Tobirama’s eyes were in working condition he would have been staring unashamedly.

Rapid typing filled the air as Madara continued murmuring to himself and the longer they sat there the lower Tobirama sank in to his seat as he realized he really didn’t care what the man was saying as long as he never stopped talking. Horrifying as it would be to admit, he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed what a great voice Madara had. Usually he checked out of the conversation mentally almost as soon as Madara opened his mouth since they had never been friends and he’d decided a long time ago that they would never get along, hadn’t even bothered to learn much about him other than the fact that he was loud and brash and the worst enabler for Hashirama’s bad ideas. He would have to start paying more attention in the future because apparently this idiot had a voice on him.

Deep and rumbling when he muttered under his breath, smooth in an oddly debonair sort of way when he used his cellphone to call the customer whose project was giving him so much grief. Tobirama was so distracted by just listening to the cadences of Madara's voice that he almost didn’t bother paying attention to what he was saying to the other person.

He was being nice. It was weird, completely flipped from the way he spoke to everyone else.

When it became obvious that the phone call was going to last a while as Madara hammered out details with his customer Tobirama rose from his chair and very carefully made his way to the stairs so he could go back up to his bedroom. Thinking of his brother’s best friend in any sort of way that even came close to positive was just weird and if he couldn’t drown it out with words on a page then he was going to lay his head next to his radio and drown it out with music.

That is, if he could remember how to use the radio next to his bed without looking at the buttons. Every five minutes it seemed like he was discovering yet another thing he’d never realized he did without paying much attention. Was the on button for his radio on the top or the front? Which preset wasn’t set up with Hashirama’s stupid pop stations?

Why did losing his sight have to be so bloody annoying?

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction

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dirtyahs · 5 years

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First “Date.” Reader x Kit Walker

I’m back! :-)

This was requested by @crazedcatcuddler, thank you for the request!!

Prompt: “Deeper,” and “Let me take care of you.”

Warnings: None really lol

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! :) :) :)

Kit Walker.

His name sounded like something straight out of a dream.

Were you crazy for feeling this way about him? After all, this had all just started with him filling your gas tank for you. He worked at the local gas station, owned it actually. He had a face for Hollywood, but he was perfectly content living in this little town in Massachusetts. You had gathered that much in your short conversation last week.

You'd been making excuses to end up back at this gas station though. You needed help with an oil change, you "thought" your tire was going flat. There was just something about him. He wasn't like most men in this town. He wasn't overly conceded, he didn't act like you were lucky to be speaking to him. He was just respectful - which was a rarity among the male population here. It was around 9:45 PM, and you wanted to see Kit. You finally felt confident enough to ask him on a proper date. It wasn't common for women to do so, but you couldn't help yourself. The worst he'd do is say no, right?

You got in your car and drove to Kit's station, pulling up to see him sitting on an overturned bucket smoking a cigarette."Hey there stranger." He smiled at you with the cigarette between his lips, standing up and walking towards your vehicle.You grinned and stepped out, looking up at Kit.

"What can I do for you?" His smile was infectious. His uniform was dirty with oil and grease but he looked incredibly sexy. Your cheeks were tinted red with nerves, but you took a breath and smiled.

"Would you like to go out, Kit?" You asked him, watching his face intensely.His eyes widened a bit, but his smile only grew.

"Is that why you showed up here?"You nodded, your hands crossed in front of your body, heart racing.

"I just have to close shop, yes I'd like to go out." He stepped his cigarette into the ground and took your hand, leading you inside the shop with him.You looked around at the shelves of supplies, everything anyone would ever need to fix or repair a car.

"Take a seat." He motioned you towards his desk chair and you sat.You watched as his arms reached up to close the garage door, leaving you two hidden from the worlds eyes.He turned and walked to the desk and took a seat on it, looking down at you.

"Would you like a drink?" He smiled politely, leaning down to open the small refrigerator he had on the ground next to his desk.

"Yes please Mr. Walker." You said playfully.

"Do you drink beer?" He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.You took the glass bottle out of his hand and cracked the lid off on the side of his desk, flashing him a playful smirk.

"I'm taking that as a yes." He smiled, taking a swig from his own bottle.

You two each downed two beers with ease, just talking about your lives and your pasts. He had a fascinating life. He'd been through a lot with his family, his parents passed away when he was about 18. That's when he'd inherited his parents savings, and built the gas station, and has made a steady living for himself from that point on. He didn’t have any siblings, so he’s been wandering through life essentially alone.

“So tell me about you.” He had a gentle smile on his face. You took a deep breath and looked up at him.

“I came to this town to find safety.” You said, watching his face intently to see his reaction. He raised an eyebrow curiously.

“I’m from the south, and I had a boyfriend there who once I tried to break things off, threatened me with violence. He began stalking me and lookin' in my windows at night, so I called the police and the day they cuffed him and took him in for questioning, I packed up my life and left. I had no idea where I was going, but I drove til' I ended up here and built myself a new, safer life. Now I been here for about 8 months." You added a smile to the end of your story just to make sure he knew you were okay.

As scary as that was for you, you were okay now.

"You are so strong, darlin'." He leaned down a bit, his hand meeting your cheek, thumb brushing your lower lip once.

"You are so strong, but I can't help but want to take care of you." His voice was quiet, his eyes were looking from your eyes to your lips.

"Let me take care of you." He whispered against your cheek, moving to your lips.

Your heart was racing, but your hand wrapped around his wrist and you leaned up to press your lips against his. His free hand held the back of your head now. You started this kiss but he was taking control. His kiss got rougher, and his hand on your face moved to your neck, holding you in place as he kissed you hungrily. He pulled back, and stood up, you immediately followed him, standing up and pressing your chest against his.

"I think strong women are sexy." He smiled at you playfully.You smiled and pushed your hands against his chest, forcing him against the wall. You were usually submissive during anything sexual, but for some reason, Kit just made you want to play with the power.He smirked, hands meeting your hips as you kissed him again. His fingers pressed firmly against your hips, he moved his lips from yours, to your cheek, to your ear, and down your neck. You tugged his hair lightly, forcing him to let a soft moan escape his lips. You giggled a bit, but were quickly cut off when he bit at the soft skin on your neck, sucking at it sharply.

Your fingers traveled from his hair to his shirt, working at the buttons. You slid his shirt down his arms, letting it hit the floor.You felt Kit's hands holding you firmly and he switched your places, holding you against the wall now.His fingers untucked your shirt from your skirt, throwing it aside.

His hands were on your sides, kissing down your neck to your chest, breathing heavily. His hands squeezed at your breasts, your head leaned back as he did so.You couldn't help but let out a gentle moan, his lips were kissing and sucking at your skin from your neck to your chest back up to your ear.

His hands on your hips pushed you against his desk, making you sit and lean back, legs spread.Your eyes were glued to him as he sat in his desk chair, pushing your skirt up to reveal your panties, kissing through them.

"Please Kit..." You whimpered desperately.He looked up from between your thighs and grinned, one finger slowly moving the fabric to the side. His eyes were locked on yours as he kissed your clit gently, sending a shiver down your spine.You felt his tongue bat against the soft nub once, immediately forcing a moan to jump from your throat.

He kept up, slowly and teasingly flicking his tongue against your sensitive clit, his speed picking up, then slowing back down once again. He kept up this pattern for awhile.You every so often would arch your back and let out pleasured moans, earning a small but proud smile from Kit.

He stood up, quickly working the button of his pants and sliding them down to his ankles.You stayed leaned back on his desk, watching him with excitement.He leaned over you, positioning himself against your soaked entrance.Your eyes were tight on each other and you both collectively let out a relieved hiss when he slowly pushed his hard cock into you. He paused once he was as deep as he could get, sighing heavily before starting to thrust into you slowly.You whined as he fucked you. It was gentle and felt loving. His hand moved to caress your face, kissing your nose as he began picking up his pace.

"Deeper..." You whispered, looking up at him with thirsty desperation.

He pushed his thumb into your mouth, obeying your request as he began slamming balls deep into you, groaning like an animal each time. You sucked his thumb, watching his face twist with pleasure. He kept up this rhythm for awhile before you felt the tight pressure in your stomach.

"Kit you're gonna' make me cum!" You squealed, wrapping your arms around him.He pushed you so you were laying down and continued slamming deep into you, biting your neck hard. He pushed you over the edge, your thighs squeezing him hard as your body trembled with ecstasy.

As soon as your orgasm ended, he moaned loudly,

"I'm cumming, baby!" He pulled out of you and covered your stomach in his cum.

"Fuck baby you're so beautiful." He hissed, looking at you as he finished.You smirked at him, breathing heavily.

You two looked at each other, both sweaty, out of breath, but happy.

"Would you like to go on an actual date tomorrow night?" He chuckled, kissing your forehead compassionately.

"I'd love that." You smiled up at him, his fingers linking in yours lovingly.

#american horror story #ahs #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #ahs asylum #american horror story asylum #kit walker #kit walker imagine #evan peters #evan peters imagine #ahs2 #kit walker smut #ahs smut #ahs fanfiction #kit walker fanfiction #evan peters fanfiction

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wolfie-dragon-rider · 5 years

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Grey Stains, chapter 2

Hey everyone, here's chapter 2 of Grey Stains. Our first glimpse of Hogwarts, and backstory for Astrid! I hope you enjoy it! I will also update my masterpost with this story, so if you want to find chapter 1, look there or check my ‘grey stains’ tag.

One thing I would like to address here are the side characters. Pretty much all side characters like professors and classmates, are lifted from other franchises that I enjoy. However, you shouldn't feel obligated to know all (or any) of them to understand my story. They're simply there to add some color to the scenes, and because I think having Hiro and Rayla is more interesting and easy to remember for you, the reader, than Ravenclaw OC #1 and Gryffindor OC #2. So if you don't know a character in the story, I hope the context explains enough about them. If you do know the character, I hope you enjoy some of the in-jokes I put in. After this chapter their presence should be less overwhelming, as the story will focus more on Hiccup and Astrid proper.

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"And we're here, with fifteen minutes to spare! Those Muggle 'taxis' are faster than I thought!" Astrid's uncle Finn said as he led the way into King's Cross Station. It was filled with people, and the loud announcements and screeching of the trains made Astrid's head hurt. Her owl, a yellow-blue bird with the powers of a Blast-ended Skrew who she named Stormfly, screeched loudly, and she hoped none of the Muggles would notice the puff of smoke coming out of Stormfly's beak.

"I keep telling you, the Muggles are smarter than you assume, but you never believe me!" Aunt Erika said. They kept bickering about transportation as they walked onto platform 9. Astrid recognized a man standing there, despite him wearing Muggle clothes. It was Mr. Cruz, one of the aurors working with her uncle. He was subtly guiding wizard families towards the column dividing platforms 9 and 10.

Finn and Erika stopped their argument to greet him, and a minute later they got the signal to go. Astrid looked at the solid brick wall in front of her, and she suddenly felt scared. No, no, she can't be scared. She's gonna be a proud Gryffindor, she has to be brave! So she gritted her teeth and ran right after her guardians.

Although she may have closed her eyes before reaching the wall. There was a brief sensation of her moving through what felt like liquid, but then the sounds warped and changed. The Muggle talk and modern trains vanished, replaced by the sounds of magic and the hissing of a steam engine.

"Alright girl, are you ready? Oh, you grew up so quickly! Don't be afraid to send us letters, okay? It's normal to feel a bit lonely at first! But I'm sure you'll make lots of friends!" Erika said, rubbing her cheek.

"Thanks, Aunt Erika. I'll try," she said as Finn took her suitcase and lifted it onto the train. Astrid wanted to protest, say that she could do it herself. But before she could open her mouth he turned to her with that look that meant he was going to say something important. He kneeled, putting himself a little below her eye level, but she still felt small.

"Astrid… I'm sorry your parents couldn't be here to see you off. Or your sister. But I know that your mom and dad and Celia would be so, so proud of you. And so is your brother Max, even if he couldn't make it to London because of his work. And we are so proud of you too. You know, after the Battle… there was so much destruction. So much death, and it felt so hopeless. But we took you in, and in you we saw hope. That war ended because people like your parents and your siblings stood up and fought against evil. They fought to give you a better world to grow up in. And I know you'll work to fight the evils of your time. It's different now, you know. Less open. Don't forget that some people still have those… evil beliefs, even if they won't say it out loud. But I know you'll do the right thing. You're strong," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders.

Astrid tried to look him in the eye, but she felt tears appear, and she dropped her head trying to hide it. She wasn't so sure if Max was proud of her. They had barely spoken in years. He was abroad, studying Healing in Italy, and rarely replied to letters. She rarely felt like sending him letters either. They had never been super close, Astrid had liked her sister Celia more back when she was alive, and six months after the Battle of Hogwarts Max had left Britain, finishing his NEWTs at Beauxbatons and traveling Europe ever since.

As she looked around, seeing parents hugging their children, siblings teasing each other, laughing together, she wanted to shout that it wasn't fair. Her family had been torn apart by Death Eaters, and these people were all perfectly fine?

But no, she couldn't do that. Like Uncle Finn always said, she should be grateful she has what she has. Entire families had been slaughtered, Muggleborns tortured until they were left permanently insane at St. Mungo's, babies killed and turned into Inferi and other monsters. Her pain was nothing compared to that.

So she forced herself to smile and nod.

"I'll fight for the light, Uncle Finn. Like you taught me! I'll be a brave Gryffindor like you and Dad and Celia! Not to mention Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger!"

"Alright, little lion, just remember it's okay if you end up in another house. Of course, I know you want to end up in Gryffindor like your heroes. Just remember the other houses did great things too. Hell, your brother was a Slytherin and he fought alongside Neville Longbottom for the entire battle!" Aunt Erika said, and Astrid rolled her eyes.

"I know, Auntie! Doesn't mean they're not dorks," she said. Behind her aunt and uncle she could see the boy from the wand shop walk past, with his messy brown hair and expensive robes. A bald man with two prosthetic limbs walked alongside him. His father? They didn't look related. Something about the boy made her nervous. When she saw him at Ollivander's, waving wand after wand with no effect, she had thought he might be a squib. But if he was going to Hogwarts he should be magical, right?

After some goodbyes and awkward hugs Astrid boarded the train. She walked through the corridor, checking for any empty cabins but not finding any. Eventually she found one with three girls of her age, and decided she might as well get started on making friends.

"Hello!" she said, trying to seem confident as she opened the door and pulled her suitcase inside. The white-haired girl turned to her, revealing strange purple markings under her eyes.

"Hi, I'm Rayla, and these are Merida and Pidge. Merida and I already knew each other, we grew up in the same town," the girl said in a thick Scottish accent, gesturing to two girls who both had their own style of wild hair. Merida had a wild mane of curly bright red hair, while Pidge had short dirty blonde hair that stuck out in all directions and looked like she cut it herself.

"I'm Astrid," she said, sitting down next to Pidge.

They easily got to talking, and Astrid learned that Rayla's family situation was similar to hers: Her parents had gone missing during the war, and she was raised by a family friend called Runaan. Pidge was Muggleborn, but her brother Matt was magical too, and was currently a Ravenclaw prefect. Merida was from a very old wizarding house, and her father lost a leg fighting evil creatures in the war.

"So what do you think you'll be when you grow up? My parents keep trying to push me into politics, that I'll have to keep managing our ancient house, but I say sod that!" Merida said, her accent even thicker than Rayla's.

"Probably inventing. I'm good at figuring out tech and stuff. I'm curious if I can use magic in Muggle computers," Pidge said. Astrid wasn't sure what she was talking about. Before she could ask, Rayla spoke up.

"This is probably weird, but Runaan is part of an elite group of aurors, and he kind of expects me to join him. Not sure if I want to, though," she said, rolling her eyes.

"My uncle is an auror too. That's what I always expected to be. Never really considered anything else. I want to fight evil like my family did," Astrid said, trying not to think about how often Uncle Finn had come home with dead eyes after another raid. Those were evenings he wouldn't say a word. He'd just grab a bottle of firewhiskey and slowly empty it while listening to old songs on the radio.

"I'll stick to making weapons for you, I guess. Way safer than being on the frontlines," Pidge chuckled, adjusting her round glasses. Astrid wondered if she knew they looked just like Harry Potter's glasses.

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"Come on, Gobber! Aren't I supposed to make friends? Meet people? Doesn't Dad always say networking is important?" Hiccup exclaimed, gesturing at the locked door of their cabin.

"Your father gave me strict instructions not to let you out of my sight until you're safe at Hogwarts. He may not be my direct boss, but you know I can't ignore an order from him! He's got influence! That curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position is finally gone, and I'll be damned if I lose the job anyway because you can't stay put for a few hours!" Gobber shouted, pointing at Hiccup with his prosthetic hand.

"What does he think is gonna happen? Death Eaters kidnapping me? People angry about his policies attacking me? What even for? My dad is the most apolitical politician ever, he doesn't care about any ideology. All he cares about is slaying dragons," Hiccup said, looking out the window at London disappearing behind them.

"Oh, don't play dumb. You know what this is about. Stoick is worried that the Red Death will attack the train. I figured that you of all people should understand that," Gobber said, digging in his bag with his good hand.

"You know I don't live my life cowering in fear of dragons every moment, right? My dad may be obsessed, but I'm not. It's ridiculous. Like that Red Death would actually attack us," Hiccup said, looking up at the cloudy sky. Could dragons be hiding up there?

"Hey, I agree that Stoick is paranoid about dragons, but he's not wrong about the Red Death. It has killed fourteen muggles and three mages in the past year. Despite nearly all the Department of Magical Creatures' resources being devoted to hunting it, it has eluded your father for years," Gobber said as he pulled a chess set from his bag. Hiccup looked away from the window just in time to see the man take his wand out and placing it on the bench beside him.

"I just… He's always locked me up at home in fear of it, and I figured that now that I get to go to Hogwarts I'd finally be… free. But he's still locking me up," Hiccup muttered, glancing at his own wand. According to the eighth wandmaker they had visited this summer, in Beijing, it was the best wand money could buy. Hiccup had tried thousands of wands in shops all over the world, and none had chosen him, so Stoick had bought him this. Maybe at Hogwarts he'd learn how to use it.

"Oh, don't think like that. It's just until we reach the castle. You'll be safe there, and I won't have to babysit you anymore," Gobber chuckled, and Hiccup tried to smile. "Now, since we're stuck together we might as well pass the time with some chess!" the man said, laying the board on the table as the pieces jumped out of the box, taking their positions with loud boasts and battlecries.

They played for a while. Gobber won the first game, and they took a break when a nice lady knocked on the door to ask if they wanted any candy. Gobber bought a large brick of chocolate for them both. The sugar seemed to make Hiccup more alert, and he easily won the next three games.

"Looks like you'll be a Ravenclaw with those brains. What house would you like to be in?" Gobber asked as his broken black pieces put themselves back together with loud groans and whimpers. Hiccup shrugged.

"Haven't really thought about it. I guess everyone always says Gryffindor, but I'm not so sure. Maybe Slytherin, to piss off Dad," he said as his king and queen led his white pieces back onto the field.

"Honestly I think he'd be more disappointed if you ended up a Hufflepuff. He often complains they're 'too nice' and 'care too much about dangerous creatures'," Gobber said. "But with the way you're slaughtering me, I don't think you're nice enough for that."

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As he climbed out of the rickety boat Hiccup didn't feel like Hogwarts was a very magical place. It was raining, and the summer warmth was blown away by a cold wind.

"Why did we have to go all the way to London for the train if Hogwarts is right next door? And now a boat! I hate water!" a Scottish voice from the next boat said, and Hiccup looked over to see a white-haired girl looking sick as she jumped onto land. Her robes were simple and sturdy compared to his gilded silk robes that did nothing to keep him warm.

"Such weird boats. Ours back home are much sturdier!" a girl with long brown hair said as she climbed out beside Hiccup. "I'm Katara, by the way. Katara Waters."

"I'm Hiccup," he said loudly to be heard over the howling wind. They hadn't had much of a chance to speak during the boat ride.

"Alright, head inside now, let's hurry!" Gobber shouted, helping a black-haired girl out of one of the boats. She looked very annoyed, and when Hiccup looked closer he noticed her eyes were blank and milky. For a second the dragon's eyes from that day in Gringotts flashed in his mind. Katara waved her wand and did a strange movement with her other hand, and the rain above them was diverted, like she was holding a large umbrella. Hiccup gladly took the opportunity to look away from the blind girl and focus on something else.

"You can do that already?" he asked, fingers rolling over his own wand on his belt.

"It's magic from my tribe, I learned it from my gran-gran," she said, continuing the odd spell.

"I thought Hagrid was supposed to guide the first-years?" one of the boys asked as the last of the boats docked, water splashing over the side as its occupants jumped out.

"Hagrid retired years ago, he moved to France. I'm the groundskeeper now," Gobber said, before casting a charm that lit up a muddy path. The group hobbled along for a few minutes until they reached the front gates of the castle. Gobber waved his wand, and the gate opened. They gladly ran inside, slipping and sliding on the tiles. They barely had time to appreciate the enormous hall with its marble stairs before a familiar voice spoke up.

"Ah, you're here. Welcome, first-years, to Hogwarts!" a tall woman with grey hair said. Hiccup recognized her from one of his dad's ministry parties.

"I am Professor McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts and Transfiguration teacher," she continued as the kids gathered around the enormous marble stairs she was standing on. Once they were all lined up she talked a bit about how houses worked, and that they should obey the rules. Hiccup's mind wandered, and with it his eyes. Next to him was Hiro, the boy from the wand shop, who looked as bored as him. Next to Hiro was a bald boy with arrow-shaped tattoos on his head and arms. Despite his strange appearance he looked giddy and excited. And at the far end he saw Astrid. She suddenly noticed him staring and frowned, and he quickly dropped his gaze.

"Now, let us enter the Great Hall so you can be Sorted!" McGonagall finished her speech, before passing through the line of first-years to a large door to their right.

Although he had heard stories and read books about this hall, he still gasped at the sight of it. The ceiling reflected the storm clouds outside, though no rain fell on the floating candles and tables filled with precious silverware. Hundreds of students dressed in similar black robes sat along the 4 tables, and they all looked at him and the other first-years entering. At the far end was the staff table on the raised platform. He could see Gobber near the center of it, giving him a quick wave with his prosthetic hand. He tried to smile back, though it was hard when his stomach churned at the sight of the tattered old hat sitting on a tiny old chair.

The blind girl was the only one not gasping at the amazing room. Instead she just kept walking forward alongside McGonagall, leading the other first-years towards the Sorting Hat.

Eventually they were all crowded near the chair with the hat, and it began to sing. Some of the Muggleborns gasped and looked fearful at first, but the hat quickly reassured them as it explained its purpose and the characteristics of the four houses.

"Alright, when I call your name, step forward, sit on the chair, and I'll put the hat on you. It will then sort you into your House. Firstly… Avatar, Aang!" McGonagall said, lifting the hat with one hand, a scroll in her other. The bald boy with tattoos he noticed earlier stepped forward with light steps and sat down, and McGonagall lowered the hat over the large blue arrow on his forehead.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" it shouted barely a second later. The boy jumped up, higher than Hiccup knew someone could jump, and ran over to the table that had exploded with applause.

"Beifong, Toph!" The blind girl stepped forward, somehow noticing the small step between them and the chair, and sitting down without help. Hiccup wondered how she did that.

The hat was quiet for a minute as Toph grimaced, before eventually announcing "GRYFFINDOR!"

Butterfly, Star!"

"That's me, that's me! Hi, Mr. Hat! Ooh, ooh, are you going to look into my mind? That's soooo cool!" a girl with heart-shaped cheek marks and blonde hair past her knees screamed as she ran forward, knocking over several first-years with surprising strength. She had an enormous grin as the Hat was placed over her head, hiding her wide eyes from the room.

For a second the grin lowered, before returning full-force. She nodded wildly, making McGonagall reach out her hand to steady the hat.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it suddenly boomed. The table next to them applauded loudly as the girl took off the hat and ran to her new house.

The sorting went on like that for a while, and Hiccup had trouble keeping track of all the names. There was a small commotion at the Ravenclaw table when Pidge Gunderson was called forward and sorted there, but it was quickly shushed.

Hiccup didn't recognize any of the kids that were sorted until "Hamada, Hiro" was sorted into Ravenclaw. Hiccup frowned at that. Wasn't he supposed to be before Hamada, since he's a Haddock? He was about to raise his hand when "Hofferson, Astrid" was announced, and at the sight of the fierce blonde walking forward with resolute steps he forgot what he was thinking about.

The hat was quiet for a very long time, at least five minutes, during which Astrid balled her hands into tighter and tighter fists. Even with her eyes hidden by the hat's brim she was clearly angry.

'GRYFFINDOR!" the hat eventually shouted, and she didn't even wait for McGonagall to lift the hat. Astrid jumped to her feet and tossed it to the chair, before stomping to the applauding table.

Hiccup's musings on what Astrid could be angry about were interrupted by McGonagall scraping her throat and announcing the next name.

"Horrendous, Hiccup!"

The tension that had filled the room at Astrid's anger snapped in the form of collective laughter.

"That's his actual name?"

"Don't know what's worse, the first or last name!"

"Wow, I feel sorry for the house that gets that one!"

"What were his parents thinking?"

Hiccup could feel his cheeks heat up in shame as he slowly stepped forward.

"That's not my last name! It's Haddock! Horrendous is my middle name!" he shouted, trying to be heard over the laughter which only increased at his words.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes as she checked her scroll again.

"You are- SILENCE!" The one word instantly stopped all the laughter in the hall. "You are listed as Horrendous in our records-" Snickers and soft laughs again echoed through the room, though they quickly stopped when she glared.

"We'll figure this out later. Either way, Mr. Hiccup, step forward and be Sorted."

He slowly nodded, feeling the stare of every person in the room on him, and sat down on the chair. Then the hat slid over his eyes, and it was suddenly completely silent.

...Until a raspy voice whispered in his ear.

"Who do we have here? Mistaken identity? Someone messing with the records? Well, let me tell you, you do belong here at Hogwarts, even if your wand doesn't work and someone got confused about your name. But where to put you?"

Hiccup jerked away from the voice and opened his mouth to ask how the hat knew all of this, but before he could even draw a breath the voice whispered in his other ear.

"Don't bother talking out loud, this is all in your head. No need for anyone else to hear this. Now, where oh where shall you go? A kind heart, loyal and forgiving. Not too lazy either. You'd make a decent Hufflepuff. But on the other hand, what a brain! Eager to learn, and I can see a spark of genius in you. You could have new perspectives. Maybe Ravenclaw?"

Hiccup's thoughts raced as he awaited the hat's verdict. A sweatdrop slid over his forehead. The presence gave him a headache.

"You're obviously not a Slytherin, you don't have a deceitful or ambitious bone in your body. Brave though, even if you don't know it yet. A good sense of right and wrong, and deep inside there's fighting spirit. What glorious cause would bring that out? You could be a great hero, you know, and Gryffindor would lead you to glory. All the kids these days want to be in the house of the amazing Harry Potter and his friends, but you could truly follow their path," it said, and Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut.

He was about to agree. Gryffindor was the house of the heroes, the good guys, the house that would please his father, the house the girl who made him feel all funny and light went to.

But then he remembered three Gryffindors on the back of a dragon. Three Gryffindors who everyone called heroes. Gryffindors who let a dragon run amok and kill his mother.

If that was heroism, Hiccup didn't think he wanted it.

"Oh, what's this? Now this is interesting. You might be the first kid I've seen in 7 years who doesn't worship those three. The complete opposite of that previous… never mind that, I'm not supposed to talk about other Sortings. Anyway, this is an interesting form of bravery in itself! But in your case, I think you'd better go to… RAVENCLAW!"

The hat was pulled from Hiccup's head, and the sounds of the Great Hall returned. There was muted clapping from the Ravenclaw table, not nearly as much as for the other students, while the other tables looked relieved. He awkwardly walked to the Ravenclaws, stumbling on the small step, though he managed to avoid falling on his face. He quickly sat down next to Hiro as McGonagall called forth "Jorgenson, Scott" and attention diverted away from him. A girl with round glasses and short hair reached out her hand across the table to him.

"Hey there. I'm Pidge Gunderson. Well, my brother here would say I'm Katie Holt, but that's not what the official records say now, do they Matt?" she said, pointing to a boy several years older, with similar hair and glasses who was sitting next to her. Hiccup awkwardly took her hand and shook it.

"How did you even hack the records here to change your name?! They're all in parchment! It's not like they have computers or internet!" Matt shouted, though he silenced himself when the hat proclaimed "SLYTHERIN" and "Katolis, Callum" was called forward.

"Oh, I have my ways. Still, you owe me 50 quid," Pidge (or was it Katie?) said, snickering. Hiccup wasn't sure how to respond to the bickering siblings.

"Fine, but I still don't understand why you did it. This will come back to bite you eventually," Matt said, rolling his eyes and digging in his pockets, pulling out a few bills of muggle money.

"Let me guess how you did it… You intercepted the communications between the ministry and Hogwarts, probably via Floo," Hiro said, and Pidge chuckled before nodding.

"Yup. Just had to figure out a charm to modify the ink inside the envelope."

"Oh man, I can see you two are already becoming partners in crime. What did I tell you, Tadashi? Hopeless. Our siblings are supervillains in the making!" Matt called out to a tall boy several seats down. He started to reply when the hat shouted "RAVENCLAW" and a boy with messy brown hair and a thick book on a belt slung around his shoulder walked over to sit next to Pidge.

"Hi, I'm Callum. Muggleborn, but my dad is high in muggle government so he already knew about magic," the boy introduced himself. Pidge quickly introduced herself, explaining that she and Matt were Muggleborn as well.

"I'm half-blood. Muggle mother, wizard father. They both died when I was 3," Hiro said, and Hiccup turned to look at him. Murdered by Death Eaters?

Hiro must have noticed the question in his eyes. "No, nothing to do with the war. Broom-flying accident. Dumb stuff like that still happens during wartime," he said lightly, though something in his face fell anyway. Down the table Tadashi frowned.

"My mom died during the war too," Hiccup said, looking down.

"May I ask what happened?" Matt asked softly. Hiccup sighed.

"A dragon killed her," he simply said, not in the mood to explain the role of Harry Potter in it.

"I'm sorry," Callum said, just as the hat announced another Ravenclaw. Hiccup moved to clap loudly, grateful for the distraction. A boy with black hair with faint blue streaks sat down next to Hiccup.

"Hey there, I'm Varian! I'm from a little village in Wales called Old Corona. Muggleborn, hoping to figure out how magic fits into physics and chemistry!" he said, lifting a hand covered by a huge lab glove to shake Pidge's hand.

Hiro, Pidge, and Varian immediately started an animated discussion of muggle science, and Hiccup couldn't help but feel left out somehow. He caught Callum's gaze, and they shared a chuckle at their housemates.

"I'm more an artist than a scientist myself," Callum said, and Hiccup nodded, before turning to watch the rest of the sorting. Not many kids were left. He noticed Katara, the girl from the boat who could direct the rain, waiting next to… someone with purple hair and pointed ears. Hiccup wasn't really sure if the person was a boy or a girl.

"Vaarsuvius!" McGonagall called, and they stepped forward.

"Finally. You strange cranial accessory, let us purvey the different possibilities of social company I shall have to compete with in my quest for Ultimate Arcane Power!" they said loudly before putting the hat on.

"That one sure looks like to hear his own voice," Callum chuckled, and Hiccup had to agree.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Hiccup wasn't surprised after Vaarsuvius' declaration, and joined the rest of his house in applause.

Welcome, fellow wizards and other arcane casters! My name is Vaarsuvius, from the ancient village of Ivyleaf on the Western Continent! Former apprentice of Aarindarius, who also moved here to Albion to teach the noble art of Arithmancy!" they said as they sat down next to Callum.

"If it's okay, I'll just call you 'V'," Pidge said. Vaarsuvius simply shrugged at that.

"So you're from America? Me and my brother are as well, but we moved here because my aunt could set up a cafe in Hogsmeade," Hiro said as Katara was sorted into Gryffindor. Realizing the Sorting was over, all conversations ended.

An old grumpy looking man took the chair and hat away, and McGonagall moved to the center where it had stood.

"Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts! The usual rules still apply, but I must announce an extra rule coming from the Ministry of Magic via our groundskeeper and professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Gobber Belch: Due to the increased threat coming from the so-called Red Death dragon, students are no longer permitted to walk the grounds after dark. I must remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden because of its many dangers, dangers which have increased in recent years. Do not be foolish and risk your life in there. There's plenty of excitement in the castle itself," McGonagall spoke. There was some nervous chuckling here and there, but overall people seemed very uncomfortable with this warning. Was this that unusual?

As far as Hiccup knew, his father had announced more warnings and declarations and rules about the Red Death every year since its first appearance 5 years ago. Maybe they hadn't reached Hogwarts until now.

"But let us not be saddened by such dark thoughts on such a happy evening. A great feast has been prepared, so let us enjoy it!" With those words, piles of food appeared on the golden plates, and the scientists finally stopped their discussion on perpetual motion in order to eat.

A flash of light flickered on the walls, and Hiccup looked up to see lightning strike across the enchanted ceiling. For a fraction of a second he thought he could see the shadow of a dragon inside a cloud, but then it was gone, and he shook his head and forced himself to focus on eating mashed potatoes and deciphering Vaarsuvius' long-winded speeches.

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"This portrait is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. We have a password, which currently is 'Primum non nocere'. Please do not share this password with anyone from another house. While we encourage friendships between houses, you should be meeting in shared spaces like the library, the grounds, the great hall, or unused classrooms. There are some plans for a 'common common room', but it will likely take a while for that to happen," a prefect explained to Astrid and the other first-year Gryffindors.

Astrid didn't feel the need to be friends with other houses for now. Of the three girls she met on the train, two had joined her in Gryffindor, and it wasn't like she had bonded much with Pidge.

The portrait of the fat lady swung open, revealing a chamber filled with poofy armchairs, thick rugs, and wooden tables.

"Ugh, carpeting. I prefer solid wooden or stone floors, they're much less fuzzy to see through," Toph, the blind girl, said, and Astrid noticed for the first time she was barefoot.

"Up here are the dorms. Left for the boys, right for the girls. No mingling. You'll keep the same dorm for the 7 years you are here. You got lucky, you get the closest ones, so you don't have to climb another six flights of stairs. These are also the dorms Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and the other heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts used during their time here, so you can feel a bit closer to their glory, I suppose. Your belongings have already been delivered to your dorms. Owls are in the Owlery, you can visit them after class. Breakfast is between 8 and 9 AM. It is your own responsibility to be on time, but perhaps you can work out a system with your roommates to wake up and go down together," the prefect said, gesturing at two open doors through which she could see steep stairs.

"I expect all of you to bring glory to yourselves and to Gryffindor. This means doing well in class, going the extra mile for more points, but also by helping students who are struggling, whether they are in this house or not. True chivalry doesn't look at someone's colors. That is all for now. I advise you to go to sleep quickly, as you have a long day ahead tomorrow. Any questions?"

At the reminder of sleep Astrid yawned. She hadn't had much sleep last night, too excited to go here, and she desperately wanted to catch up.

However, Rayla didn't seem to agree.

"I heard there's a dueling club or something? How can we join?" she asked.

"There is, though it's rare that it accepts first-years. You'll have to talk to Professor Flitwick, he runs it. If he's impressed with your performance in his Charms class, he might let you join. Once in, you get to compete with your fellow duelists for the highest rank. If you want to become an auror a good duelist rank helps you a lot," the prefect explained, and Astrid woke up at that.

If she wanted to be good at dueling she needed to be rested, however. So she led the way up the girl's stairs and into the first room labeled "First-years". In there she easily found her suitcase on the bed closest to the window, and laid down. She was tempted to fall asleep like that, but she forced herself to unpack her pajamas and toothbrush as the other girls walked in.

"Ooh, ooh, this looks nice! Can I have this bed, can I? Do you think I can make an extra closet?" Star Butterfly was as loud and energetic as she had been the entire evening.

"I don't think we're allowed to modify anything, Star. But you can take that bed. Toph, how about you take this one near the door, that way you don't have to walk through our stuff when you get up," Katara said, making Toph scoff.

"I can handle myself, Sugar Queen," she muttered, but still took the suggested bed. The two had gotten off to a bad start when Katara offered to help her eat and Toph responded by magically shifting the table to make food fly into her face.

"Can you two stop bickering so we can sleep?" Merida groaned.

"Fine," Toph said, and Astrid figured it was a good thing the blind girl couldn't see Katara roll her eyes.

"How do we wake up on time tomorrow?" Rayla asked, digging through her own bags.

"I can set an alarm with my wand!" Star said, showing off her strange wand. She tapped it, and with a cloud of pink smoke the round top part suddenly had a clock face.

"What kind of wand even is that?" Merida asked, lifting her own simple wooden one.

"It's the Butterfly wand! Has been in my family foreeeeveeeeeer!" Star said, dragging out the last word as she fiddled with the clock.

After that they prepared for bed mostly in silence, taking turns in the bathroom before crawling under the covers. Despite the summer heat, it was quite cool. Astrid wondered if it was because they were so high up, or if the temperature was controlled by magic.

Despite her heavy eyes, Astrid couldn't fall asleep, even though the curtains on her bed muffled Star's and Toph's snores. She had hoped she could sleep easier here. Back in her little room at Uncle Finn's she never slept well. Every time she'd open her eyes in the dark room, it was like that night over seven years ago, when Aunt Erika woke her to tell her Daddy and Celia were dead.

But this place was different. She shouldn't still be bothered by those childish memories! Still, her annoyance didn't help her fall asleep, and after an hour of staring at the red curtains she finally sat up and grabbed her suitcase, searching for some little notebooks.

Her sister's diaries. Celia started a new one every year, leaving the old ones at their house, where Astrid found them when they moved everything to Uncle Finn's house. As always when she opened them, Astrid wondered if her sister would have been okay with her reading them, but she could never resist. Apart from her letters this was all she had left of her. Maybe if she reread how her brave sister handled her first night at Hogwarts she could handle it as well.

So she found the diary from Celia's first year, and opened it to the first page.

September 1st

Dear Diary, I'm at Hogwarts! It's incredible here. It's so big! I got sorted into Gryffindor, Harry Potter's house! He wasn't at the table, though. Apparently he got really sick from the dementors on the train!

Oh right, I forgot to tell you, the train was stopped by dementors looking for Sirius Black! It was so scary, they made me feel all cold and empty. Jackie, who got sorted into Gryffindor with me, had to cry. Still, the feast made me feel much better, there was so much food!

I got to meet all my new housemates too! There's Jackie, and Chang, and some other girl whose name I forgot, and Dennis. Dennis' brother is also in Gryffindor. They're both Muggleborns. They're different than I expected. I always thought they'd be much dumber! But they were funny, and I can't wait for my classes tomorrow! I should go to sleep now, I think Jackie is getting annoyed at my writing at night.

The entry reminded Astrid that she had it easy compared to her sister. She didn't have to deal with Dementors! With that thought she finally fell asleep, still holding the diary.

#grey stains #httyd #fanfic #hogwarts #hiccup #astrid

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unofferable-fic · 6 years

Text

UNOFFERABLE: 20 - DRUNKEN CONFESSIONS

Summary: The unexpected arrival of an injured Midgardian child clinging to life causes a ruckus on Asgard. The princes, Thor and Loki, are somewhat intrigued by this unusual guest, unsure as to how and why she ended up in such a state. What they did not expect, however, was the turn of events her appearance would inevitably cause.

Originally posted by loptrlaufey

————

Set Pre-Thor 1

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Inspired by this imagine

Warnings: Language, angst, drinking, drunken Odinsons.

Word Count: 5,682

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Playlist: “We Move Lightly” — Dustin O’Halloran, “Colours - Stripped” — Halsey, “I’m Beginning to See the Light” — Ella Fitzgerald, “Introduction II” — David Wenngren

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A/N: Also available on AO3 and FanFiction.net. I love drunk Loki and Thor and I need more of them in my life so here you are.

Loki had royally fucked up.

He was sure of it.

Unable to sleep, he paced throughout the night. He contemplated on more than one occasion going to Ellie’s room to attempt some form of an explanation, but couldn’t rationalise one. What could he tell her? That he didn’t know how to say he loved someone? That he never had before? That wasn’t a lie, and perhaps it would have been a good place to start, but what if he did speak to her only to be turned away? What if Ellie, like so many others in his life, decided he was not worth the time or effort? What if his outburst was the final straw for her? The thought of not having her affection or friendship genuinely made him feel ill, and yet so did the idea of avoiding her altogether and giving up now. Surely he could talk his way out of this. He didn’t earn the name Silver Tongue for nothing! As he cleaned the shattered ceramic plate shards from his floor, he contemplated what to say.

When morning came, he was ready to face her, to explain himself.

I was caught off guard by your admission, he repeated in his head. But I apologise for my handling of the situation. I should not have shouted at you—

The knock on his door came and he cleared his throat. “Come in.”

His frown deepened when Sevda came into view. “Good morning, Prince Loki.”

Standing there in stunned silence, he took a moment to answer. “Eh, good morning, Sevda. Where is my handmaiden?”

“Ellie is feeling poorly this morning, Your Highness,” she explained, already at his wardrobe. “Kirkjabyr fetched me this morning to work in her stead.”

“Poorly?” he repeated, gaze shifting to the wall that separated their chambers. “Where is she?”

“In her room. We already offered to fetch Eir for her, but she declined, explaining that she would feel better after some rest. I’m sure she will feel better in no time, My Prince. Do you wish for me to draw you a bath?”

“That won’t be necessary, Sevda. Just my clothes will do fine.”

“As you wish. The Allmother expects you soon for breakfast.”

He muttered his thanks and dressed once she had left. He paced for a few more moments, already knowing that Ellie’s illness was a farce, an excuse not to be near him. He would be lying if he said the thought of her not wanting to be around him wasn’t upsetting. When he left his rooms, he hesitated in the hall and turned towards Ellie’s chamber door. Kirkjabyr stood on guard, his expression patient as always. Feeling rather impatient himself, Loki quickly approached the guard.

“Your Highness,” Kirkjabyr greeted him with a bow of his head. “It is good to see you.”

“And you, Kirkjabyr,” the Trickster replied. “I wish to see how Ellie fairs, if you would kindly let me in.”

Beneath his brown beard, the guard frowned. “I’m afraid she requested to be left alone, Your Highness. She needs her rest; you know how frail mortals can be.”

Loki’s expression remained blank despite how mad he was at not being permitted to see his lover. Her request at privacy be damned, he needed to speak with her! “I understand, but a few moments will do no harm.”

The large man’s face only showed his own concern as he shook his head. “With all due respect, I think it is best that she is left alone. I know you are just concerned for her wellbeing, but, speaking from my own experience with my daughters, she will be right as rain in no time!”

“Regardless, I wish to see her.”

“My apologies, Your Highness, but she is to have no visitors; by order of the Allmother.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Kirkjabyr nodded. “The Allmother has informed me to let none enter without Ellie’s consent so I’m sorry, but you cannot see her.”

Loki’s gaze flitted from the guard to the door, knowing that Ellie could probably hear everything being said and still chose to keep him out. With a sigh, he regarded the older man, turned on his heel, and left defeated.

* * *

Thor wore his most infuriating grin later that same day. “So, to war?”

Loki didn’t hide the look of displeasure from his face. “It would seem that way…”

It seemed that this day was determined to break him. Everything that could possibly go wrong was doing just that. After breakfast, he and Thor were called to a gathering with the Allfather and Lieutenants of the Einherjar to discuss the Marauders situation in Vanaheim. Odin had finally decided that it was best to answer the realm’s calls of assistance and send in troops. Doing so would hopefully ease some of the ever-present political tension and save lives in the process. A win-win, as Midgardians say. Odin had also decided that his sons would join him. Of course, Thor was always delighted to smash something with that stupid hammer of his, while Loki was less than eager to leave with Ellie not speaking to him. For once, he was not enthusiastic about being chosen by his father when it meant leaving her behind after a fight. Due to depart tomorrow at dawn, he knew that his outburst had truly come back to bite him in his royal arse.

“We will have a splendid time!” Thor boomed, slinging his arm around Loki’s shoulders as they traipsed through the halls. “It has been so long since we went to war together, brother.”

“Wars are not usually described as ‘splendid’, Thor,” Loki replied. “I am nearly positive that no king as referred to a war as ‘splendid’ it the history of the Nine Realms. You know what Father always says about that.”

The eldest Odinson shrugged dismissively. “Well they sound like no fun anyway. That is besides the point; it has been so long since we went to war together! You and I, fighting side by side!”

Loki had to admit that Thor’s eagerness to spend what he considered quality time together was flattering and comforting, but he was still reluctant to leave while on bad terms with Ellie. On any other day, he would probably be happy with his brother’s sentiment.

“You must excuse me, brother,” he explained. “I am not exactly keen to go to war right now.”

“And why not?” Thor asked, completely baffled. “We get to kick arse. Together! It will be great!”

“I suppose…” Loki looked down at his hands, not bothering to hide his pout. He only looked up when a massive hand slapped against his chest, halting him in his tracks.

The God of Thunder stared at him for a long time, face contorted to express his confusion. “What is the matter with you? You have been especially mopey today, more so than usual.”

Loki merely shrugged in response. “I did not sleep very well last night. I am merely tired.”

For once, Thor didn’t look entirely convinced. “If you insist. Alas, I am excited for us to fight alongside each other again! This calls for a celebration.”

“A what?”

“A celebration. One involving enough mead and ale in which we could drown!”

The prospect of drinking until he couldn’t remember his own name sounded appealing to Loki. If there was one sure thing about Thor, it was his ability to get himself and his friends excessively drunk. Usually, Loki would rather deal with a wild bilgesnipe than be around that drunken rabble. But today, on the other hand…

“That’s not a bad idea…”

“Really?” Thor nearly fucking squeaked. “You want to?”

Loki shrugged, trying his best to act casual. “Well, yes. I had no other plans this evening.”

“Excellent!” Thor cheered, and slung his arm back around his sibling’s shoulders as they set off once more. “Come! We will go to the Feast Hall and gather the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif, and Ellie—!”

“No!” Loki shrieked before he could stop himself.

“Uh, why not?” Thor asked as he steered them towards her chambers. “Is this because of what happened the last time? We won’t be in a public tavern this time. We shall be much safer in the—”

Loki hushed him with a wave of the hand. “No, it’s not that. She is currently ill, brother, and bedridden. She will not be coming for any… revelling.”

“Ah, that is simply not acceptable! We leave tomorrow, she must come with us.”

“I have already tried to speak with her,” Loki explained with a sigh. “She will not have it. Kirkjabyr is guarding her as we speak.”

“This sounds ridiculous. I will get her out.”

The God of Mischief smirked at his determined expression as her door and ever-present watch guard came into view. “So confident, brother. Good luck with that.”

“Evidently, your silver tongue failed you this time,” Thor chuckled as they approached Kirkjabyr. “Allow me. Kirkjabyr!”

“Prince Thor,” the guard greeted him with a wide smile from his post. “It is good to see you. And you, Prince Loki.”

“Always a pleasure!” Thor clapped him on his armoured shoulder before gesturing to the door. “I am sure you have been informed that we go to war tomorrow on Vanaheim. We wish to see little Ellie and invite her to the Feast Hall to celebrate.”

“That is a lovely gesture!” Kirkjabyr said, still grinning widely. “But I am afraid Ellie wishes to remain alone so she can gather her strength once more.”

“Ah, she will be fine,” Thor insisted. “Nothing that some mead and good company cannot fix.”

“Unless she herself states that she wishes to join you all, I am afraid you will be drinking without her.”

There was silence between the three of them before they turned to stare expectantly at the imposing door. None of them dared speak as they waited for some response from within. They were met with a resounding stillness, much to Loki’s chagrin. Even if he wasn’t surprised by it, there was still a part of him that hoped she would open the door.

“I think that is your answer, Your Highnesses,” Kirkjabyr mumbled with an awkward grimace. “I hope you enjoy your evening despite her absence.”

Thor frowned as he slowly turned from the door, looking at his brother in surprise. “Umm, thank you. As you were.”

As Thor walked away, he mumbled incoherently under his breath. Loki paid him no mind, hesitating to follow for a brief moment. Wary of Kirkjabyr’s gaze on him, he merely looked at her firmly shut door once more before he turned and followed a dismayed Thor as he left.

* * *

It had been many years since Loki found himself in this situation. And yet, here he was, drunk off his arse and, dare he say, enjoying his time in Thor’s company. He could possibly say that he was enjoying the company of his friends too. Had he gone mad? No, but he had definitely gotten excessively drunk with the goal of forgetting his argument with Ellie and all the feelings he had for her. This was the best solution he could think of. It was also easier to deal with all these people when he was intoxicated beyond belief. If he wasn’t so insistently preoccupied with his worries about Ellie, he would probably be enjoying his time with his brother even more.

“Loki, I must ask,” Thor said at one point in the evening. He leaned over his tankard with a frown. “What has you so down?”

“What are you talking about?” Loki grumbled, struggling to focus his gaze on his brother. Thankfully, the Warriors Three and Sif were too engaged in their own rabble to notice the discussion.

Thor frowned. “I am not stupid. You are indeed enjoying your evening, but when you stop talking, you stare into your drink as though it holds the answers to every question in the Nine Realms. What is the matter?”

It must have been the alcohol and a mix of desperation that encouraged him to speak of what ailed him. He knew that Thor could be a forgetful drunk if he drank in excess, so he hoped that their conversation would not be remembered. He doubted whether he would even receive helpful advice, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“I may have fucked up severely,” Loki grumbled after a long silence. He kept his voice low despite their intoxication, wary of any other hearing their conversation. “And I’m not sure if I can repair the damage.”

Thor chuckled as he downed his drink. “You say this as though this isn’t a frequent occurrence, brother. Your whole thing is mischief.”

“This was not mischief, Thor. And there was no jesting involved.”

“Well then, what did you do?”

He bit his chapped lips. “I hurt someone. Someone very…dear to me.”

“Oh…” Suddenly, realisation appeared on Thor’s drunken face “Oh! Are you talking about a lover? Are you bedding someone I don’t know about?” The look of dismay on Loki’s face answered the question. “Oh, Loki, you scoundrel! Well? Tell me! Who is the lucky person?”

“Who she is is not important,” Loki insisted, drinking the last of his ale. “What matters is what I have done to upset her.”

Thor clapped his hands together as two more tankards were placed in front of them. “Ah, so it is a she! That narrows it down to half of Asgard.”

“Brother—”

“I merely jest, relax! Go on, tell me what you did to upset her.”

Gazing into his new drink, the Trickster hung his head in shame. “She told me she loved me, and I ignored her and shouted at her for telling me how she felt.”

He was met with silence, and looked up to see Thor staring back at him in surprise, hand paused mid air as he was lifting up his full drink to his lips. “You what?”

“Yes.”

“And she loves you? She told you she did?”

“Yes, and I could not even bring myself to look at her.”

“Oh… You were not joking when you said it was serious.”

Loki smiled sadly at him. “This is one of the few times when I am not joking.”

“Have you spoken to her about what happened?” Thor asked, setting his tankard back down in a bid to give Loki his undivided attention.

“No, she…will not speak to me and I am afraid to confront her.”

There was a long pause between them while the rest of the hall bustled with noise. The brothers drunkenly speaking in hushed tones went unnoticed by their friends and the others celebrating around them. They were probably afraid to break whatever spell had befallen the princes — seeing them speak civilly and earnestly was not the most rare occurrence to witness, but no one dared test it by interrupting.

“Why did you not respond to her confession?” Thor asked eventually.

Loki shrugged. “Because I do not know how to do so. I may be called the Silver Tongue, but I am not great at expressing…feelings.”

“Do you love her?” was the simple question Thor posed next, meeting his brother’s gaze. “Because I think that, if you do, this situation could be easily rectified.”

Loki’s fingers clenched around his new tankard as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. With a gulp he spoke, not even needing to consider the truth in his words before he did. “I do. I do love her.”

“Odin’s beard! I am stunned to hear those words leave your mouth! But I am also happy for you, little brother.”

“My feelings do not matter,” Loki grumbled in response. “She most likely never wants to see me again after how I dealt with her confession. If I speak to her, I do not know if I can handle hearing her tell me she wants nothing more to do with me.”

“Loki, if she sees how wonderful you are, and you care about her, then why not give it a chance? I have honestly never found someone who cared about me in that way.” Loki had to hold his tongue, but glanced at Lady Sif nonetheless. “It is a rare thing and you have been lucky to find it. Whoever she is, she must have the patience of the Allmother if she fell for you.”

Loki giggled at that. “I will admit, she is truly something.”

“Then tell her that and stop pussyfooting around the situation. You deserve a bit of happiness, as I’m sure she does too.”

“Thank you,” Loki murmured after a beat of silence. “Speaking with you has helped a lot, surprisingly.”

“That is because I am the big brother and therefore I am smarter.”

Loki rolled his unsteady eyes with a grin. “And there is the Thor I am more familiar with. For a minute there, I thought you were an imposter.”

“Never! No one could ever dare to imitate the mighty Thor, son of Odin, master of relationship advice!”

For the first time in a while, Loki looked at his brother with a fondness that harboured no falsehoods. He wouldn’t admit it aloud right now, but no matter what happened, no matter how many times they fought or disagreed, he loved his brother dearly. “I certainly had not planned on asking you for it, but I am glad I did. Thank you, brother.”

He had not planned, however, on getting so drunk that he had to be carried back to his chambers by that oaf of a brother.

“I can walk, you fool!” he drawled, attempting to unwind his arm from around Thor’s shoulders. “Let me gooooo!”

“What kind of big brother would I be if I left you to find your way to your room by yourself?” Thor explained with a heavy slur, stumbling along himself. “I’ll tell you; the worst kind!”

Loki was seeing stars. Everything was blending around him when Thor — Thor, of all people! — had the gall to cut him off. And now here he was, struggling to walk through the halls of the palace even with his equally drunk sibling’s help.

“I am fiiiine,” Loki whined. “I want to keep drinking.”

“I fear you may lose consciousness if I let you do that. We are just here at your door now.”

“Ugh, you are no fun, brother—”

“Loki?”

At the sound of his name, the pair stumbled around to face whoever had spoken. The sight of Ellie standing in the door to her bedroom caused them both to gasp aloud.

“Ellie!” Loki wheezed, still clinging to Thor. “It’s you!”

“You are alive!” Thor cried, abruptly dropping Loki to the ground so that he could scoop Ellie up into his arms. “I thought you were dead!”

Loki looked up at them with unfocused eyes from his spot on the golden floors. Ellie was baffled and rightly so; the sight of the Odinson brothers intoxicated to this severity in each others company was completely unheard of. “I am fine, Thor! I was just a little sick is all.”

“You dropped me, you oaf!” Loki spoke with difficulty, still unmoving on the floor. “How do you expect me to stand when my legs refuse to work?”

“What’s wrong with your legs?” Ellie hastily asked. As soon as Thor released her, she rushed to Loki’s side. “Are you alright?”

He whined on the floor like a kicked puppy. “Nooooooo. I miss you, darling. I just want to talk to you.”

Her eyes met his, filled with concern and sadness. “Loki…”

The moment was interrupted by Thor as he stumbled over, grabbing one of Loki’s arms. “Ellie! We must assist my brother to his feet!”

Without another word, she helped to pull Loki up. The young prince couldn’t remove his gaze from her. He wanted so desperately to tell her how beautiful she was, and how much joy she brought him, and how when he was drinking with his surprisingly fun drunken brother, all he wanted was her by his side.

“How much have you had t’drink?” she asked him, gently cupping his face as his head lolled about.

“This many,” he replied, outstretching his arms and bursting into uncontrollable giggles.

“No, no, no!” Thor cut in, also laughing away as he stretched his massive arms out. “It was at least thiiiiiis many!”

“Thor and I drank the hall dry! And we had fun! Can you believe it? He is a big lovely idiot.”

“You are too kind, Loki! And you are a greasy charming sap!”

“Right, I think it’s time you went to bed,” Ellie stated, slinging Loki’s limp arm around her shoulder and wrapping her own arm around his waist. “I’ll help you in.”

Without thinking — although the concept of him being able to think completely coherently with the amount of alcohol in his system was utterly ridiculous — Loki pulled her into a tight embrace. “You are so lovely, Ellie. You are too kind to me.”

“Don’t fret, My Prince. You need a good night’s rest.”

“But I need you,” he all but sobbed, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “You would not come out with us tonight and I missed you.”

“It was unacceptable,” Thor declared, evidently missing his brother’s other admissions. “We leave tomorrow for grand battle and you would not even drink with us!”

“I will drink with the pair of you’s upon your victorious return. Now c’mon, Loki. You’re off to bed.”

“But you’re coming too, right? You won’t leave me alone, will you?”

“I’ll do whatever you wish, My Prince,” she replied gently, feigning professionalism for the sake of Thor’s presence.

“Do you need any help with him?” Thor asked, swaying on his own two feet.

Ellie took one look at him before she shook her head. “I can handle him from here, but thank you.”

“As you wish.” He waved them off as he began to awkwardly bound (well, stumble) down the hall. “Goodnight, my friends! I will have more drinks in your honour!”

Loki paid little attention to his fleeing sibling, his gaze firmly fixed on Ellie beside him. He couldn’t help but notice how lovely she was as she just about managed to open his doors, haul him inside, and then shut them afterwards.

“Where is your guard dog?” Loki queried curiously.

“If you’re askin’ where Kirkjabyr is gone, I told him to return to his family for the evenin’. He’ll leave with the Einherjar tomorrow for Vanaheim; the man deserves a night off from babysittin’ me.”

“That was sweet of you. But then again you are very sweet all the time.”

“Alright,” she sighed, tone a little sharper now that they were alone. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“But I do not want to sleep,” he insisted as she gently sat him down on the edge of his bed. The softness of the surface threw him off for a moment before he steadied himself to meet her eyes again. “I wish to speak with you, darling.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she murmured and turned to his wardrobe. “Given the amount of alcohol you probably consumed down there. The smell is particularly strong, y’know.”

“I had not meant to get this inebriated,” he admitted, looking at her guiltily as she moved about. “But I wanted to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“How upset you were.” He hesitated as she turned to look back at him. “And your face when I shouted at you.”

There was a tense moment between them while he waited for a response, but she merely looked at the floor and quickly grabbed some of his sleeping clothes. “Here.” She approached the bed and set the garments down next to him “Change into these.”

Even in his state, Loki knew that she was struggling with this situation as much as he was. He didn’t know how to approach it in the right way, even if he desperately wished he could.

As an idea came to mind, he spoke up. “Play that Midgardian music of yours.”

With a surprised expression, she eyed the vinyl player she left behind last night, forgotten after their clash. “Music? At this hour?”

He hiccuped and pointed flippantly to the machine, one eye closed as he tried to focus his vision without much success. “I will change my clothes for you if you merely put on some music for me.”

“If you insist.” She quickly approached the player and noticed the small stack of records he took from her room. “Any specific requests, My Prince?”

“Eh, the one… The one sung by that woman. She talks about…seeing light. Fitz-something? Is that her name?”

“Well, you’re half right,” he heard her mutter under her breath and set the specific record down on the player. He watched in fascination as she carefully placed the needle down on its slowly spinning surface. Soon after, upbeat piano filled his chambers.

His head began to slowly bop back and forth and he did his best to sing some of the words:

“I never cared much for moonlit skies,

I never wink back at fireflies,

But now that the stars are in your eyes,

I'm beginning to see the light.”

“There’s your music,” Ellie said, approaching his seated figure again. “Change, please.”

With an obedient nod, Loki got to work. As it turned out, the many buttons and laces that his clothes required be undone were difficult to manage when the room was spinning. Seeing him struggle with his boots and quietly snickering about the fact that he was a god who couldn’t take off his shoes right now — drunk Loki found this particularly hilarious — she began to assist him. He watched her sadly as she carefully put away each piece of clothing she helped him remove until he was sitting there in his underwear and undershirt. He lifted the shirt above his head and, upon successfully removing it, fell backwards across his duvet. He still sang along with the music in a terribly slurry voice:

“I never went in for afterglow,

Or candlelight on the mistletoe,

But now when you turn the lamp down low,

I'm beginning to see the light.”

“Have I ever told you,” he began, still sprawled out on his bed. “That I understand this song now?”

“C’mon,” Ellie coxed him softly, pointing to his sleeping clothes. “Put those on. And no, you haven’t.”

“Well I do.” He set his gaze on her form, standing in front of him expectantly. “I understand when she says she has seen the light.”

Unimpressed, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” he insisted and tried to sit up but struggled on his stupidly sinky bed. “By the Norns! This duvet is a deathtrap!”

“Jesus, Loki…” Ellie quickly grasped one of his flailing arms and pulled him up with a grunt.

With her assistance, he steadied himself in a seated position once again, but still held on to her hand. He grasped it in both of his, stroking his fingers over her soft skin with a sullen expression. She said nothing and didn’t pull away, so he took it as a sign to go on. Before he knew what was happening, honest words spilled from his mouth. “Sometimes, despite my nickname, I struggle to express how I feel when it is important. I could lie my way out of anything, but when it comes to speaking about genuine feelings, I am a failure. But I think with some liquid courage and this helpful Midgardian tune, I might be able to try.”

She gave his hands a soft squeeze. “Loki, you’ve had a lot to drink; I don’t think we should talk ’bout this right now.”

“Please,” he implored, finally looking up into her eyes in earnest. How he loved her eyes… They brought him comfort he felt he didn’t deserve. “I may be intoxicated, but it does not mean that my words are untrue. I would not lie to you, my darling girl. I want to talk about this. I need to tell you how I feel about you before I lose my courage.

“Ellie, I am so sorry for how I spoke to you yesterday. You did not deserve any of my ill-treatment for merely stating your feelings. You should be able to talk to me about anything, but I…but I was a coward because, truth be told, I have never heard someone say that they love me, not in that way. Nor have I felt that way for someone else. And it did not matter that I realised my feelings for you some time ago — I did not know how to say them aloud. I was…afraid. So I pushed you away instead of telling you that…that I-I, that I fell for you long ago, Ellie, and that I have not felt this way about someone before you, and that I have fallen in love with you because you are, to me, the most beautiful and precious thing in the Nine Realms. I cannot imagine not having you by my side. Today was deplorable because I remembered what it was like to not have you in my company. You are my lover as well as my friend, and I could not bear to be without you. I am so sorry for the pain that I caused you, and I will apologise for it a hundred times over if that is what it will take for you to forgive me. And, if you are unsure as to whether you can trust my admission, I will tell you that I love you everyday until I no longer possess the ability to speak. Please forgive me, love. Please believe me when I say I love you.”

When Ellie’s blue eyes began to well and her lips trembled, Loki’s shoulders dropped in resignation. Without any hesitation, he pulled her in to straddle his lap and heaved a sigh as he wrapped her up in his arms. Feeling her embracing him in response as a sob shook her body nearly sent him over the edge.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered, clutching her like she might disappear. “Please don’t cry. I cannot bear to upset you further.”

“I love you, Loki,” she wept, her voice muffled as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry I ignored you. I shouldn’t’ve done that. I should’ve just talked to you ’bout everythin’ that happened.”

“You did nothing wrong,” he insisted and rocked her in his arms. “I was at fault, so do not apologise.”

“Can we please promise to talk to each other about our fears? If we avoid them, we can’t solve them. I promise I’ll try to do so.”

“As will I. I have much to learn from you, and I promise to do it as best I can.”

He could feel her tears wetting the bare skin of his shoulder and his gut twisted for a multitude of reasons. In that moment, Loki could not contain all of his emotions. He was joyous to hear Ellie say she loved him, he was relieved knowing that she now heard how he felt about her, but he was also hurt to see her so perturbed. He never wanted to be the cause of this sadness ever again. He simply would not. Without thinking, he lay back on the bed, still clutching her body in his arms and ushering them so that their heads lay against his pillows, his sleeping clothes on the duvet long forgotten. They remained there in silence for a long time, simply enjoying each other’s presence and the comfort of finally knowing where they stood. The situation had sobered him up considerably, but he waited until her crying slowed before he spoke again.

“Sleep here with me tonight,” he all but begged, lightly stroking her hair. “Please.”

“No need to say please,” she hushed him, cupping his cheek as her own tears ceased falling. “I couldn’t leave now if I tried. Just let me get outta these clothes.”

He nodded and slowly released her from his firm hold. He watched from his spot on the bed as she hurriedly shrugged off her dress until she was only in her undergarments. Rushing across the room, she shut off the record player, then grabbed two glasses of water which she set down on the drawer next to his bed.

“You’ll need those in the mornin’,” she explained and climbed on to the bed. “For the headache.”

He chuckled and pushed back the covers. “I will have no such thing.”

“Your head will be hoppin’ tomorrow.”

“My head has never felt this calm and sure before.” Safely under the duvet, he pulled her into his arms. “If I have a headache in the morning then so be it; I deserve it after the way I treated you.”

“No more ill feelin’s,” Ellie stated, languidly cuddling into him. “We’re okay.”

He kissed the top of her head in the dim light. “We are?”

“Of course. You’re not the only one who can’t bear the thought of not bein’ together.”

Seeing no reason to put it off any longer, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her wet lips, the happiness inside him insisting that he do so. The relief that came with her kissing him back nearly had his eyes welling up all over again. He could probably blame his unusual outburst of emotion on the alcohol, or the lack of sleep he had the night before, but Loki knew that the cause of his ardour was a young Midgardian woman that was kind and reasonable enough to listen to his pleas and apologies.

That night, they would hold each other like their lives depended on it. And yet, he was quickly realising that his actually did. She had become everything.

With a wave of his hand and some simple magic, Loki extinguished the bedroom lights and slept soundly in the comfort of Ellie’s secure embrace.

Taglist: @jonsaiscomiing @wrappedinlokisarms @unseelie1963 @talinalani @fightmelight @spookass @myinnerkemono

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writing4thewoild · 6 years

Text

Pay the Man

JackKellyXReader

Tag List: @albertdasillva @brooklyns-here-enthusiast @ben-cook-can-cook @yourfriendlyneighborhoodnewsie

Your father was a politician in New York. One of the few politicians at the time that actually advocated on behalf of the people and not for their wallets. He wanted to see the world change for the better and he made sure to do his best so it would. Because of this, the people loved him. He became a beloved man that people always spoke well of.

But working for the good of the people wasn’t always seen as a good thing. On the contrary. Your father had many enemies who sought to see his demise. His plans for city reform often got in the way of those who used their positions to acquire more monetary wealth, and they were not happy about that. These men were very serious about their money so when they found out that it was your father stopping them, they were quick to begin sending in the threats.

Threats to his job, threats to his reputation, threats to his and his family’s life, you name it he got it. At first it was scary. What if someone actually decided to do physical harm to both you and your family members. You didn’t have any older siblings so you silently made a promise to your family that you would protect them no matter the cost. You would do all that you could to ensure your family’s safety, even if it meant risking your own.

When the threats first came, though they were scary, they didn’t seem like promises of future action. Plenty of people would send letters on how if your father didn’t change his stance on a particular subject his family would be in jeopardy, yet nothing really happened. The threats were more intimidating words than anything else. But then things began to escalate. Rocks were thrown at your windows and strange men began to stand outside of your house for prolonged periods of time. Suddenly things turned from not that big of a deal to extremely serious.

Your parents fought for days about moving. Your mother wanted to move to upstate where your family could be safe, but your father would have none of it. He had an obligation to the people he was voted to serve and living amongst them was the best way to relate to them. Moving, in his mind, was just the beginning of s slippery slope towards typically politician corruption. Your mother wasn’t happy about this decision at all, but still decided to support him because she loved him. As for you, you loved living in Manhattan so you didn’t mind staying too much.

Life went on like that for a while. A constant cycle of cynical letters and threatening actions. You couldn’t even tell the police what was happening and get help because of how corrupt the system was. The police were snug in the pockets of the very same people who were threatening you so it would be a waste of time. It was an exhausting way to live yet you still managed. You continued to watch over your family and your dad continued to speak out against corruption and advocate for the people. One night in particular stood out among the rest.

It was a cold, winter night. The wind outside whipped around cold air turning it into a force that left your body numb and stinging. You were alone in the house that night. Not the best decision one could make when you have multiple people making threats against you life, but your parents had an event they had to attend and everyone else was out doing something. You were a teenager though and you were convinced that you were old enough to take care of yourself.

The night started out ordinarily enough; you made your own dinner, read a little, and prepared yourself for bed. It was when you were laying in bed, getting ready to drift into dreamland, that things became peculiar. At first, it was the sound of footsteps outside of your house. The night was silent and you had very good hearing so it wasn’t hard to hear the light thumping. All you could do was pray that you locked the front door before you came to bed. Next, was the sound of a door opening. Obviously you didn’t lock the door and now an intruder was entering your house.

Quickly you jumped out of bed and grabbed a near by object to use as a weapon. It was a candelabra. Not the most efficient but would do. You stepped out of your room into the hallways. It was completely dark with the only light to guide your way being the moonlight streaming in through the hall window. Ominous would be a fitting description. You careful crept down the stairs, keeping close watch of where you stepped so the wood underneath you didn’t creak.

You continued to creep around until you found yourself in the living room. Just like the hallway, it was dark and the only source of light was the moonlight coming though the windows. The windows were open causing the curtains to blow and flutter around due to the air coming in. The room was extremely cold and made you wish that you put slippers on your feet before you begun this grand adventure. The most noticeable detail though, was the black silhouette of a man standing with his back to you in the middle of your living room. He looked tall with broad shoulders and wild hair.

In order to increase your chance of not being attacked, you attacked him first. You silently ran towards him with your eyes squinted in fear and your candelabra raised high. The fist hit caught him off guard. He stumbled to his hands and knees and screamed. You never really considered yourself strong so to be able to knock this guy down really made you feel safer with yourself. The second hit caused harm judging by his loud yell. You kept hitting him with the candelabra for a good minute until he pushed you off.

When he sat up the first thing you were greeted with was the clearest green eyes you’ve ever seen. You rushed backwards, making sure to keep some space between you and your possible attacker. “’Ey, what was that for”, he groaned staring at you in anger and confusion. You furrowed your eyebrows, your face conveying the same confusion his was displaying. “Your here to kill me, why would I not attack you”, you replied using the tone you reserved for explaining obvious things to dumb people. His face twisted even more. God was he a handsome guy.

“Look, I’m not here to kill nobody so just calm down”, he reasoned putting his hands up to try and placate you. Instead of calming down like he said, you picked the candelabra back up and once again raised it up high. “Sir that was a double negative, meaning that you are here to kill me. You tried”, you said before swinging you hand towards his leg. Just a moment before you were able to hit him, his hand darted out and grabbed yours. “First of all, stop hitting me. Second of all, don’t make funna how I talk. Third of all, I was just doing my job when I saw your door blow open. I’m just trynna help you.”, he shouted as you wriggled your wrist around, trying to free yourself.

You immediately stopped moving when you heard that he was just trying to help you. Suddenly you were confused. Was this man sent to kill you or was he really trying to help. You decided the best thing to do was to ask questions. “What do you mean you were just doing your job? What is this job? Are you sure it’s not going around and killing people?”, you blurted out. He only sighed and shook his head in response. “No, I don’t kill people. Imma newise and ya father pays me to bring him his pape every night. Why at night? I don’t know, but I certainly do know that I don’t deserve gettin beat over something I ain’t did”, he huffed.

You started to feel bad. You just beat up a newsie for nothing but doing his job and helping you out. But you still had that little nagging voice in the back of your head. You had to be sure, it’s your life at stake. “So are your sure your not here to kill me? Because if you are, I will kill you.” You raised you candelabra once again to prove your point. The newsie only huffed in annoyance and glared at you. “I’m not the one you kill sweetheart, I’m the one you pay.” With that he reached across and picked up a newspaper that laid on the floor. He handed you the newspaper and stood up.

You looked at the newspaper and sighed. Maybe this is just some random kid that you beat up for no reason except that you were horribly paranoid. Your cheeks flared up in embarrassment and your stomach dropped of the thought of how angry your parents would be if they found out. You rushed over to the desk that sat in the corner of the room and opened a drawer. It was filled with useless things that you would never use, but towards the bottom of the junk was money. Your parents usually kept it there for a rainy day but at that moment using it for hush money was more important.

You pulled out a dollar and looked at it. It would take a while for you to find a way to secretly replace it but you’d find a way. You timidly tip toed over to the boy that was still standing in your living room. He still looked angry and annoyed but all that melted away once he saw the dollar you were handing him. “Darlin, a pape only costs 10 cents each. This is way too much.”, he stuttered trying to give it back. You only shook your protest and shoved the bill back into his hands. “I made a big mistake and this is the only way I know how to fix it. I’m terribly sorry for hitting you with the candelabra and I hope that you’ll forgive me.” Your voice shook with regret and worry. What if he told the papers and ruins your father’s political career? You’d rather die than have that happen.

At the sight of how upset you looked the newsies face softened. “Look, how about we start over. I’m Kelly. Jack Kelly”, he reached his hand out as an invitation. You took his hand and firmly shook it. “I’m (L/N). (Y/N) (L/N)”. He smiled at you, a dazzling smile that reached his eyes and made them twinkle. It was breathtaking. “Well (Y/N), may this be the beginning to a lovely friendship”, he said. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the thought of being this lovely stranger’s friend. That night was the first time in a long time that you were able to go to sleep without the constant threat of harm looming over you and it was all because of Jack Kelly.

I heard the quote “I’m not the guy you kill Lorca, I’m the guy you pay” in an episode of The Blacklist and it was so iconic I had to do something with it. This was fun to write.

#newsies imagine #newsies x reader #jack kelly imagine #jack kelly x reader #newsies #jack kelly #broadway musical imagine

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kandadiff · 3 years

Text

Isla Paradiso 4

-- Katya --

Since coming to the Island a few days ago Katya left just in time to be blissfully unaware of most of the fallout that came when her and taehyung went on Jessi’s Show!terviw to announce their relationship. She got a few hints at it but PSY and Draven were insistent we get to the vacation house first. And of course there was no rule about not having your phone, you could but she didn’t want to really speak to anyone or see the hate she might have been getting from dating the most popular member of BTS. Plus, the house and two computers which she could FaceTime her family. Today one of her sisters, the second oldest just behind her, wanted to speak with her and with the fight two days ago she could go with some family time. Out of everyone in funhouse with the exception of possibly Makayla, Katya was closest to her family, which consisted of three younger sisters (Marisha [18], Annika[14] and Galina[7]) and her father Viktor, and frequently spoke to them.

Katya logged into her laptop and logged into the wifi ignoring the emails and turning off the notifications of her social media and clicked the FaceTime button before clicking Marisha’s name. It rang for a few before the face of her sisters, Marisha and Annika smiling and waving at her showed on the screen. “Hi! How is it?” Marisha asked looking around trying to see behind her sister but seeing only the wall.

“Katya! Show us the house!” Annika whined.

“It is huge, and Tae says hi” Katya smiled and Taehyung waved from the corner playing where he was painting with Makayla. Katya began telling her very curious sisters about the house and all the rooms and the inhabitants who were with her at Annika’s insistence. They spoke about the house for about half an hour, Annika pointing out all the people that walked behind or next to Katya whispering Hi’s shyly until her father walked in to frame with little Galina and asked Marisha to take her younger sister to wash up while he spoke to Katya. They made small conversation while the girls went out the room. Tae walked over respectfully bowing to her father and greeting him politely.

“Good afternoon T, you look well.” Viktor always called Taehyung T, after not wanting to offend her long time boyfriend for failing to pronounce his name correctly. Honestly he could pronounce it fine it was just his nerves. Taehyung returned the sentiment before resuming his painting trying to mimic Makaylas effortless brush strokes. “❄️Yekarina, I heard you came clean about your relationship with T.” Katya nodded and her father continued with an almost worried smile. “❄️I heard Annika speaking with Marisha about it, and I worry about you. Not a lot of people are taking it as good news as we are. Have you seen it?”

“❄️I haven’t went looking, if they cannot support me then I do not want to see it.” She admitted and he nodded.

“❄️Still Yekarina, You must face it rather then ignore it, you and him can face it together. What has he said about it?”

“❄️He wants us to release a statement and we’re trying to figure out what to say.” She shrugged “❄️I knew it would be hard but this is silly. If a man or woman I admired found happiness then I would be happy for them not angry.” Her father agreed.

“❄️Still however,” he sighed and Katya knee by the look in his face it wasn’t great news. “❄️A small group of girls dropped this off with the guard in front of the house for you.” He went towards a cabinet to high for even Katya to reach and pulled out a box wrapped in blue and green like a present. Katya watched as her father opened it. He sighed pulling out a stuffed animal of a penguin, which was her funhouse animal. But this plushie was mangled, razors sticking out of its stomach and red paint placed in spots so it looked like blood. He pulled out a letter from the box and opened it so she could see it. Her eyes scanned over it and her eyes widened as she read the ‘fans’ angrily letter cursing her and her father finished with the letter spitting over his shoulder to avoid the bad luck promised in the letter, she did the same. Thats when Taehyung stopped painting and turned his head back. He knew spitting over your shoulder was a way to ward bad luck and while he knew a few sentences in Russian he could only make put a few words from their fast speech. None of which, when put together made sense to him. “❄️No matter if you make your statement now or in weeks, after your vacation you should come back here. In Korea, they are crazed and I do not trust them. Bring T too. You’ll be safer here.”

“❄️ I worry about you and the girls” Katya sighed her mind filled with all terrible things that could happen to her siblings or father. “❄️If they know I live there...”

“❄️Over here the police come” he snapped his fingers “❄️do not worry about me or your sisters. We will be safe and I will speak with them, you my little fish, please be careful.”

“❄️I will.” She assured and heard Galina’s high-pitched voice calling for her father. Viktor gave a small chuckle.

“❄️I have to go” He said and she nodded. “❄️Stay safe, Yekarina, I love you.”

“❄️I love you.” she said and they both smiled at each other as she hung up the call. Curious and worried Taehyung looked at Katya and she sighed her once cheerful demeanor gone.

“Whats wrong?” He asked turning his attention fully towards her. Makayla looked at them and put down her stuff.

“Should I leave?”

“No.” Katya shook her head as she began to tell them about what happened with the present left for her. Taehyung instantly got upset wanting to go on V-Live and yell at whoever had the gall to do that but Katya and Makayla managed to calm him down enough where he decided to ask Namjoon and Katya and Makayla could figure out a rough draft of the statement they wanted to give.

Taehyung went upstairs to Namjoon’s room where the older boy was sitting on his bed reading a thick book. “Whats wrong?” He asked watching the younger member rummage through the box he purposely kept in Namjoon room away from prying eyes.

“Remember when you asked me if I was sure” Taehyung asked finding the small velvet wrapped box at the bottom. He opened it revealing a stunning diamond nestled in a circle of slightly smaller diamonds.

“Yes? and your going to do it now?” Namjoon shot up and went to close the door not wanting the secret of Tae’s engagement plans out.

“Not now, people went to her house where her family is staying and threatened her!” He shook his head, his face getting red with anger tears. “I was planning to do it here and “ he looked at his Hyung then at the ring “and every time I look at this I can only picture it with her, what if I’m being selfish? what if changes her mind and figures im not worth that. because I know its just begun.” Namjoon sighed and went to bookmark his book preparing to have a long talk with his younger member.

-- Changkyun --

I must’ve actually dozed off when I was avoiding Suga because when I woke up my phone was on the nightstand next to wrapped coconut cookies, and a note taped just above the wall. I sat up rubbing my eyes and looked at the note figuring it was something stupid from Kitty since I had fallen asleep in her bed. Instead the note said ‘Hey sleepy head, I got you you're favorite cookies, come down when you're awake. ~ CK’ I smiled at the note, gathering the cookies and heading downstairs.

“Look at that our little maknae!” Wonho pressed his finger into the maknae’s dimpled cheek. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Changkyun smiled shyly pretending to watch Jooheon and Minhyuk play pool. He didn’t know why he was getting so shy speaking about his relationship with me to the boys. Of course after every date he spoke to them about it keeping of course, a few things to himself but now it was different and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it looked like things were getting more serious? He hoped so, he felt himself wanting to be fully immersed in love despite his inner demons that told him he didn’t deserve all that. But even they silence when he was around me.

“Kyun,” Jooheon called out to the maknae “can I ask you something?” The younger boy nodded. “Do you feel... weird about her ex’s being here? some of them are still in love with her.” Jooheon didn’t mean this question as malicious in fact he wasn’t even talking about me. It was his way of asking about himself without actually coming out and saying that he was feeling that way about you.

Changkyun thought for a moment but before he could speak, Wonho spoke up. “Listen Kyun, fight for love because they don’t own her heart anymore.” Jooheon sucked in a breath and shrugged.

“Its easy for you to say in your position” Jooheon gave a laugh that hid its true meaning. “I mean girls go head over heels for you.”

Minhyuk shrugs. “Girls are strange though, I mean Kay left Korea promoted with Damien but came back because of Kyun.” Changkyun smiled at his friend.

“Exactly,” Wonho smiled hyping up his younger member and he looked at Jooheon. “When there is feelings strong enough, love will find away, regardless of past or present relationships and the other partner has to understand they can’t do anything to stop it.”

”That sounds odd coming from you” Minhyuk laughed “You're as jealous as the next man.”

Wonho laughed and shrugged “Its a hard pill but its true, doesn’t mean the partner will like it but soon everyone moves on. Which is why I'm saying” he turned back to Changkyun “You don’t have to be intimated by anyone else here. She obviously wants you so keep reaching for love.”

Changkyun smiled and nodded “Thank you for the pep talk but I'm not really worried, I mean besides Damien, bobby and Liam no one has done or said anything.”

“And don’t listen to those assholes anyway.” I said coming into the room, each boy offering me a smile as I came in. Changkyun looked at me, feeling his breath catch in his throat and fell speechless. Even with slightly messy hair and makeup smudged from sleep he looked at me as though I was some divine secret meant to be admired and revered. He knew he felt the words ‘I love you’ ready to leave his lips but he knew it was too soon and the last time he said that to a girl, she booked it out of there faster then he knew it. So he greeted me with a smile getting up to hug me ignoring the teases of his hyungs.

“Thank you for my cookies, Kyunnie.” i smiled at him wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss which he happily sunk into. Maybe this time he could relax himself in love again. May be he didn’t have to be afraid of his own feelings anymore.

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eachainn · 7 years

Text

More from my Game of Thrones AU.

Schneizel rolled over, grumbling when he realized that the other side of his bed was unoccupied. He propped himself up onto his elbows, staring at the mess of pillows and the blanket before he rolled onto his back. He stared at the wooden top of the bed before sitting up to scan the room.

It wasn’t the first time he had woken up alone in bed, but it never made it any better, especially since it was a rare thing for him to decide that a few candle marks in bed were more important than continuing to trudge through the problems of the country.

Sometimes he thought that it was Kanon’s version of revenge for all the times that Schneizel had rolled out of bed before the sun rose or when he didn’t come back to bed at all.

He reached over for his shirt, pulling it on over his head before even daring to slip out of bed. It would take a while for the old stone walls to warm up, which meant that his rooms would be cold until midday.

Schneizel tied off the strings at his throat, reaching up to rub at his eyes. He flicked the last of the sleep from his eyes before standing up. A quick stretch made his back pop, Schneizel groaning at the sound.

He had always heard that being Hand of the King aged men far beyond their years, but he hadn’t believe it. After all, it just took a quick mind and someone that was equally stubborn and crafty. It also took a pair of good eyes, an extensive spy network and the determination to sit in the horribly uncomfortable chairs in the library. Schneizel was almost sure that the current caretaker kept the chairs uncomfortable to make sure no one would visit and look through his precious books.

He reached around to rub at his lower back, looking around the room. It didn’t take long to find where Kanon was, his lover sitting at his desk.

Kanon had taken the cape that Schneizel had worn for the emperor’s birthday the previous day, the embroidered snakes and lions sparkling in the sun that was coming through the windows. Schneizel tilted his head, smiling at the sight of Kanon completely covered by the cape. Teal looked good on him. Schneizel considered changing his own coat of arms before pushing the thought away. It was better if he didn’t act like he was completely besotted, it was safer that way.

He made his way across the room, bracing one hand on the chair that Kanon was sitting in. Kanon didn’t even jump, he just held up a small piece of paper. Kanon waved it when Schneizel didn’t take it immediately, keeping up the motion until Schneizel took the message scroll from him. “This was the thing that was so important earlier this morning.”

Schneizel frowned, trying to remember if he had heard someone knocking. He remembered some noise that he had pointedly ignored, because it was probably just another drunk noble trying to remember where their rooms were. Or worse, a drunk noble that had taken it into their head to try and talk to the Hand of the King before anyone else did. That must have been the point when Kanon had gotten out of bed, but Schneizel couldn’t remember if his lover had come back to bed after that.

He sighed and took the message scroll, unrolling it and staring at the tiny handwriting. From the handwriting and the cipher, it was from one of his spies on Essos, probably the one that he had sent when Jeremiah Gottwald had gotten himself exiled. Schneizel turned so he could tilt the scroll into the light, working through the cipher while Kanon went back to work on the other messages that they had gotten. Schneizel was tempted to tell him to leave until after breakfast when he got to the meat of the message.

Schneizel’s eyebrows rose as he read what was there. ‘Khal dead. Khalassar gone to khaleesi. Prince and princess on the move. Victory rides with them.’

He glanced down at Kanon, hating the knowing look that his lover gave him. Schneizel sighed and leaned his hip against the desk. He glanced over the message again before dropping it to the table.

He knew that Nunnally marrying the khal had been something that he couldn’t afford to ignore, but his intensive questioning had revealed that nothing was wrong with the marriage. It had been one that Nunnally had entered by herself and, according to all reports, the khal was completely in love with his Britannian bride. The words that Villetta had used had been ‘disgustingly’ and ‘hopelessly’, so he had decided to leave it. Considering all the things that could have happened to his half-siblings after the fall from favor and death of Lady Marianne, Nunnally finding happiness was something that he could let happen. It had been ridiculously easy to convince the king’s council of the same thing. They were all sycophants anyway.

Now that the khal was dead, there was nothing to keep Nunnally and Lelouch over there. He knew for sure what Nunnally would do, which would be to bend to the cultural convention and return to Vaes Dothrak to join the council of wives in ruling it there. Schneizel knew for sure what Lelouch would do too, he would turn the khalassar right towards Britannia with nine years of rage behind him. It would take him a while, but he would come.

Schneizel rubbed his forehead, looking back down at Kanon. He fully expected the shrug that he got in return, Kanon sitting back in the chair. “Our move.”

“Yes.” Schneizel stared down at the tiny scrolls that were scattered over the desk. There were hundreds of things that called to his attention, but the Nunnally problem caught his attention.

Kanon hummed and reached up to hold Schneizel’s arm, his fingers curling lightly around it. “We could hold.”

“I’d have to convince them all that they’re not dangerous. And you know the rumors.”

Kanon laughed. “Dragons.”

Schneizel nodded. It was ludicrous to believe that, after hundreds of years, dragons had returned. None of his trusted spies were reporting dragons, but the rumor was everywhere. He closed his eyes, ordering what he needed to do.

The first thing would be to chase after the rumors of dragons. The sooner he could disprove them the better because that was half the fear gone. Then, he could work on what Lelouch was actually doing. If the khalassar was just carrying out their usual activities then it wasn’t a worry but, if Lelouch was moving against them, then he would have to find a way to separate Nunnally from her brother.

Schneizel was willing to let Lelouch run himself into trouble, because Lelouch was old enough to know what he was getting into. Nunnally had never taken an interest in politics and she would probably just be following her brother. As long as he could separate the two of them, Nunnally would be safe.

He sighed and opened his eyes, looking down at Kanon. “We need to get to work.”

“I thought so.” Kanon stood up from the chair, absently grabbing the front of the cape to keep it from falling open. “I’ll get the responses out before looking for precedents.”

Schneizel leaned over to press a quick kiss to Kanon’s lips before sliding into his seat. “Dragons first.”

Kanon just tipped his head and walked over to the window seat that was his preferred perch. Schneizel allowed himself a moment to watch Kanon walk away in nothing but his cape before he shook his head and turned his attention to the problems of the empire.

#code geass #my fic #Month of Code Geass

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thetoxicstrawberry · 7 years

Text

Thank you @falling-off-midgard for beta reading this for me! I can’t even express how grateful I am for all your thoughts and comments. I’ve made it my mission to drag you into this ship eventually.

@madakaka

Summary: An alternate universe in which Madara survives the war and spends his days flirting with irritating the Hokage.

The Price of Atonement

Ch. 1: Limbo

Ch. 2: The Losing End

He should have known better.

When Madara made his request to that dim-witted Hokage, he should have predicted something like this would happen. But he didn’t and he acknowledged it was only due to his own insistence that he ended up in such a mess, but he couldn’t back out. Doing so would give the other man the satisfaction of winning and there were few things Madara hated more than losing.

Hashirama used to tease that Madara wasn’t gifted with natural talent, only pettiness and a stubborn drive for competition, which was mistaken for genius. He disagreed, of course, believing instead that it was a combination of both that drove him to perfection.

He had been this way as far back as he could remember. First with his siblings, who provided him with amusement, but not much contest. Being the eldest by birthright gave him an edge against them, making him the winner in everything from fighting to tree climbing. It wasn’t until that day by the river that he would find his true rival.

Against Hashirama, he could finally test his skill. It wasn’t merely the trivial competitions, like rock skipping, that excited him either. It was his desire to impress Hashirama. To be acknowledged by him as an equal. More than an equal.

Growing up during the Warring States Era, there wasn’t much time for praise. Children only found honor in survival, so every bit of approval that Hashirama imparted was a treasure to Madara.

As they grew and the fighting intensified, his competitive nature merged with his desire to protect. Guilt over his inability to save his younger siblings deepened his pursuit of power in an effort to shelter Izuna from the same fate as their siblings.

And when he finally lost Izuna, it left a wound on his heart that never healed. He tried to focus that energy on building the village—the dream that Hashirama and he shared, and for a short time it worked. Until it didn’t anymore. His combative nature morphed into a sick madness which sought to cleanse this world in order to make it anew, with only Hashirama’s strength to challenge that goal.

But all of it was for nothing, he realized. Hashirama was truly gone now. His edo tensei faded into dust. His only competition now was the Rokudaime and, if his tallies were correct, Madara was currently losing. He frowned at that thought, not really certain how the power balance always seemed to skew in favor of the gray-haired nuisance.

The doors in front of him parted, breaking Madara from his thoughts. A figure hesitated in the entryway for a moment before walking over to greet him. Madara noted the thick scarring across the bridge of his nose and the annoying smile pointed in his direction. He scowled back at him, but wasn’t sure if it was received or muted by the shade of the tree he stood under.

“Uchiha Madara,” he said. “My name is Umino Iruka. I’m a teacher here at the academy.”

Madara didn’t even brush a glance at his outstretched hand, only defaulted back to his usual unwavering stare. He did, however, notice the slight tremble in the younger man’s voice.

“Okay then,” Iruka said, moving his hands into his pockets to hide his uncertainty. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long. I didn’t realize you were here. One of the kids saw you through the window. They’re really excited to meet you.”

“I’m thrilled,” Madara deadpanned.

“I can see that,” Iruka said, either not noticing his sarcasm or simply ignoring it. “You’ve even dressed up for the occasion.”

“This is my normal attire.”

“Well it’s very…authentic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Madara growled.

Iruka raised his hands in a show of mercy. “Nothing, nothing. Just that it lends to the period. That’s all. The kids will love it.”

Madara’s eyebrow twitched. Was this little squirrel calling him outdated?!

He hadn’t given much thought to his clothing since he’d been living back in Konoha. In truth, he’d never given much thought to it in general. Always preferring functional over flashy, Madara glanced down at his crimson body armor, and wondered for the first time since his resurrection, if maybe it could use some revision.

But what would he wear instead? Not that horrid green flak jacket, like the man in front of him was donning now. He sneered at it and hoped the obnoxious tree rodent took notice.

“Authentic,” Madara mumbled. “You must mean well-crafted.”

“Yes, very well-crafted. I can see that. The detail.” The quake in Iruka’s voice increased as he took hold of Madara’s shoulders and gave the metal plates there a slight shake, testing it out. “They don’t make things like they used to, ha ha!”

Iruka stopped when he caught sight of the puzzled disgust on Madara’s face and realized that breaking the touch barrier with him was akin to shoving one’s hands into a badger den. He quickly increased the space between them to a safer distance and cleared his throat.

“We better not keep them waiting any longer.”

Madara rolled his eyes and took a few steps towards the flustered teacher. “Let’s get this over with.”

Flinching slightly, Iruka turned to lead the agitated Uchiha into the academy, trying to forget the danger of having Madara at his back.

As they crossed the threshold, Madara could hear the muffled sounds of voices and shrill laughter tucked behind closed doors. He remembered sitting atop the Hokage mountain with Hashirama as they dreamed together of a day when children could spend their years in a classroom rather than dying on the battlefield. Something warmed inside of him, starting in his middle and worked its way into the back of his throat. At first, he thought it was another chakra attack coming on, but instead it was---satisfaction?

He groaned and Iruka stopped to look at him.

“If this is too much trouble, we can do it another day or I can ask Kakashi…”

“It isn’t that,” Madara snapped. “It was only a passing thought. It would only disappoint the little brats anyway.”

As they entered the classroom, all the chattering stopped as twenty or so tiny heads turned to look at them.

“Okay everyone, our special guest has arrived,” Iruka announced and Madara tensed. “I would like to introduce you to Uchiha Madara, one of the founders of our great village.” He then turned to Madara and said in a lower voice, “I’ll let you take it from here.”

Iruka nodded at him and moved to the back, as Madara turned to face the quiet intensity of the class. He swallowed and moved his eyes from one corner to the next to take in all the miniature faces focused solely on him. He couldn’t help but notice that the positioning of the desks gave the children the high ground, putting him at a disadvantage.

“Hi,” he said with a short wave, realized the awkwardness of it and rested the hand back at his hip, but that was too cocky, so it moved it to his side. He swallowed again.

“Your Hokage asked me to come speak to you today,” he said and paused, his mind frantically searching for what to say. Why hadn’t he thought to prepare for this ahead of time? “As the squir—Iruka-sensei said, I, along with Senju Hashirama and Tobirama created this village. You probably know them more as the First and Second Hokage.”

From the back, a tiny hand shot up.

“Yes?” Madara said, pointing a gloved finger at the petite pig-tailed girl.

“Were you ever Hokage?” she asked excitedly.

“No.”

“Oh,” she said, shoulders slumping. “Why not?”

“Politics,” Madara grumbled. “And a meddling younger brother.”

“Your brother didn’t want you to be Hokage?”

“Not my brother,” Madara said. “Hashirama’s.”

“The First Hokage?”

“The First’s brother, Tobirama. He didn’t want me to be Hokage,” Madara corrected.

“Why?” another child asked.

“How should I know? Tobirama was an uptight obnoxious little di…”

Iruka coughed to cut Madara off.

“Moving on,” Madara said. “As I was saying, before the consecration of the village, shinobi typically belonged to familial units and clans and these clans…”

Another hand shot up.

“Yes, you. What is your question?”

“If you’re, like, a hundred years old, why do you only look fifty?” the boy asked.

“Fifty? You think I look fifty?” Madara twitched and Iruka made a choking sound from behind him. He couldn’t tell if it was mirth or fear for the poor child that dared tell him he looked half a century old. “I will have you know, I was revived so my visage would be during my prime.”

The boy cocked his head, confused. “I don’t know what that means.”

“More like thirty to thirty-five,” Madara sighed.

“That’s still old.”

“That’s not old!” Iruka snapped and then mumbled, “I’m almost thirty.”

“Fair enough,” Madara said, crossing his arms. “Any more questions?”

Eight more hands shot up.

------------------------------------------

Kakashi swallowed a chuckle. From where he was perched, he had a perfect view of Madara. He hunkered down further when a small laugh slipped through his lips and he hoped it wasn’t heard through the open window.

He was surprised to admit this outcome hadn’t been one he’d expected. He’d figured ten minutes tops before the children would have riled Madara enough that he stormed out of the classroom and marched towards the Hokage office to accost him in one fiery ball of bushy haired rage.

Kakashi had predicted that Madara would arrive to the academy puffed up and annoyed, if he even showed up at all. He never thought Madara would address the children with mild-mannered patience, or even more shocking, uncertainty.

This side of Madara was new and Kakashi wondered if this was the Madara that Hashirama had placed so much faith in. Not the mentally unhinged man he had fought during the fourth Shinobi war, but the one who set his pride aside to ally with an enemy in order to protect the future.

“Has he murdered anyone yet?”

Kakashi flinched at the sound of Sasuke’s voice beside him. He had been so busy listening, he hadn’t heard his approach.

“Surprisingly, no.”

Sasuke shrugged and leaned into the building. “I suppose there is still time.”

“He’s good with them,” Kakashi said. “The children, I mean.”

“I thought he hated kids.”

“Me too,” agreed Kakashi. “Last week, I had to explain to him that I couldn’t execute children for disrespect. It makes me wonder how much of Madara’s behavior is simply posturing.”

The younger Uchiha grinned. “Without his chakra, everything he does is bravado.”

“Be careful, Sasuke, and never forget who he is. It’s still too soon to let your guard down.”

“Hmph,” he snorted. “I know that. Even without power, he’s still a crafty bastard.”

“Yes, he is.” Kakashi returned his gaze back to the classroom just in time to see a small smile play across Madara’s face.

------------------------------------------

The final bell rang and the kids poured out of the academy door. Madara followed not far behind them with Iruka close at his heels.

“It is true what you said about the Second?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Even the part where...”

“All of it is true,” Madara said and then groaned when he caught sight of the Hokage.

“We really need to do this again sometime.” Iruka was still talking, but Madara had tuned him out the second he laid eyes on Kakashi, hands in his pockets, standing in the same spot he had occupied earlier. “I’ll talk to the other teachers. I’m sure they’d love for you to come speak to their students too.”

“Did you enjoy the show?” Madara asked smoothly.

“I did,” Kakashi said, shutting his eyes in a quick smile. “I’m thinking about giving you your own class to teach.”

“I would sooner smother you in your sleep before I let that happen,” Madara sneered.

“Who says I sleep?”

“Kakashi-sama,” Iruka said. “Thank you again for setting this up. The kids enjoyed having a real life historical figure teach them about the past. Next time, maybe we could hold an assembly.”

“You can leave now,” Madara ordered.

Iruka paused for a moment and looked to Kakashi for guidance.

“Come by my office tomorrow. We can talk about it then.”

Iruka bowed and thanked them again, before he walked back into the school, the earlier bounce in his step gone.

As soon as he retreated, Madara turned and asked, “How long were you watching?”

“Long enough to see the great Madara blush in front of classroom full of kids. I never expected you to be so shy.”

Madara made a sound that was almost a laugh. “You thought you had bested me.”

“I’ll try harder next time.”

“I’m sure you’re already planning my next great adventure.”

The way Madara was looking at him, with half narrowed eyes, Kakashi thought he almost looked amused. There was a slight bit of mischief behind his gaze and Kakashi wondered if Madara simply enjoyed defiance.

“I have some ideas in mind. Naruto offered to help keep you occupied.”

“No, absolutely not,” Madara said. “I refuse to engage in any activity that requires the orange annoyance.”

“You shouldn’t have told me that, Dara-chan.”

This time he did laugh and shot Kakashi a full smile. “Oh, just remember, my dear Hokage, you really do have to fall asleep sometime.”

#kakashi #madara #naruto #madakaka #iruka #sasuke #the price of atonement #my writings #fanfiction #au #haha edited #I'm a moron

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heartfeltheart · 4 years

Text

Alchemy: Tiny Steps

Chapters: 16/45 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Pro!Snape Series: Part 2 of 9. Summary: Part two of the Alchemy Series. Politics. Either you love it, hate it or you live it. For Alchemy Teacher Edward Elric, he lives it, hates it and loves it when he gets the upper hand. Here is to another year of hell… D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

"It's either using that flue stuff, travel by foot, or the train. The train is safer and it would give you a feel of what you are going to deal with." Edward explained to his brother as they walked through the train station to their stop. In one hand he is carrying his suitcase and the other is Xerxes's cage. The owl is snoozing away, ignoring everything around her. "How was your goodbye to Mei?"

Alphonse fiddled with the collar of his tan traveling coat while he kept a tight grip on his suitcase. "She wanted to come, but apparently her brother needs to help to convince the Elders of something… The Chimera's are going back with her…"

"I meant, how was your goodbye?"

"…"

"I'll take your silence and your look of embarrassment as my answer." Edward sniggered at his brother's blushing face. "What happened?"

"…I was aiming to kiss her on her forehead. She moved…" Alphonse coughed into his hand, in an attempt to hide his blush.

"Aaawwww! How cute!" Edward gushed out, his brother could swear there were sparklers flying around him.

"Brother…you're causing a scene again."

"My little brother… his first kiss."

"Don't you remember? Winry is my first kiss."

"…I will kill you."

"And have Winry, Teacher, and Miss. Hawkeye kill you before the wedding?"

"Grrr."

"MR. ELRIC!"

Edward and Alphonse turned around to see a two carts with trunks and familiar suitcases sat on top each trunk respectively. The ones that were pushing the carts shown to be the Weasley Twins, running towards the Elric's at high speeds. Behind them, trying to keep up with them are their parents, one of their older brothers, Percy, and two younger siblings. Recounting what was told to him and briefly meeting them, Edward assumed them to be Ron and Ginny respectively. "George! Fred! How are you?"

"Amazing!" Fred and George stopped their carts by Edward and Alphonse, smiles never leaving them. Their eyes did flicker with confusion at seeing their teacher's brother with a suitcase of his own. "Professor Elric?"

"Hello, boys." Alphonse smiled at the twins, he heard about the boys but never interacted with them in a long period of time unlike his brother.

"My brother would be coming to Hogwarts with me for work. Emperor Ling is planning on make a magical school in Xing and this guy…" Edward pointed at Alphonse. "Is going to be taking notes of the school. To see what to implement in their own 'magical' and alchemical school."

"Whoa…" Fred and George eyes filled with amazement. A new school! And possibly a new alchemy teacher. Alphonse would be able to perform Alchemy and offer a new sight into their teachings.

-.-

"Boys, boys!"

"Mum! Stop tugging!"

"Oh mum!"

"Boys! Don't bother the adults." Molly called out to the twins, worry filled within her. They were talking to a pair of muggles. She is pulling her two younger children with her trying to catch up to the troublemaking twins. Percy is trying to catch up but is falling behind due to the dense crowd.

Once she got closer, Molly had to bite back a sigh of relief to see that there stood Mr. Edward Elric along with an unfamiliar man, that look oddly like him. Dread filled within her, are they bothering him? Are they already going to get in trouble before the school year official starts? Similar thoughts ran through her mind and she could only wonder what she had to do to defuse any possible complications.

By the time she got to the twins, Molly saw the Alchemy Teacher pat them on their heads before heading off. The twins turned back to see her and they waved excitedly. Once she was in earshot, they started to go on about how they are looking forward to the upcoming school year.

"Mum! Mr. Elric's brother is coming along this year!"

"Mr. Elric said Professor Elric could come in and teach us too!"

"Oh boys…"

-.-

'They truly look up to him…' Alphonse smiled softly as he and Edward were stopped for the fifth time by his students. They were smiles or looks of completion determination. Yes, there were a few students but it goes a long way. He looked over at the clock that was situated near him to see that it was time to head out to this magical train. "It's time to head out to the train, remember we have a small window here."

"Bah… Fine. Take the joy out of everything." Edward rolled his eyes at Alphonse, he promptly said his temporarily goodbyes to his students. He handed Alphonse his suitcase and grabbed him by his traveling coat. "Let's go. We have to go through a wall."

"Huh? What? What do you mean?" Alphonse questioned.

"Platform 9¾. We have to get to Platform 9 ¾."

"There's no 9¾…"

"Hehehe... Remember that we are dealing with magic." Edward chuckled deviously at his brother. He rushed them towards a brick pillar, showing no signs of stopping.

Alphonse eyes widen in fright, wondering what in Truth's name is going through Edward's head. He shut his eyes tight when he saw that Edward was about to impact against the pillar. That impact never happened and the sound of children's laughter, crying parents and a train whistle surrounded him, Alphonse opened his eyes and gasp. He swirled around to a wall behind him, a wall they just apparently walked through. Reaching over to see what exactly just happened, to only see his hand go through the brick wall.

"Neat, huh?" Edward chuckled at his brother's reaction, remembering his own experience with the magical brick wall…door… thing. "Come on, we need to find an empty compartment.

Alphonse nodded slowly as he turned and his jaw dropped at seeing Platform 9¾. The entire area are filled with families, saying their farewells to each other with promises to write letters. Steam filled the area as it showed it was preparing for it's departure. It was a familiar sight to him. To all the times he and Edward used the train as their main mode of transportation back at Amestris. "How is this place able to hide like this?"

"I asked Severus, he said something about memory charms or something like that… I don't remember."

-.-

"Ahhh… This is great…" Edward let out a sigh of relief once he and his brother found an empty compartment. He is laying face down on the cushioned bench with Xerxes snoozing away on his back.

Alphonse sat on the bench on the other side with a folded up Daily Prophet in hand. He would occasionally look out the window to see the families still saying their goodbyes or students trying to get into the train with their belongings. Seeing that they still had time before they leave for Hogwarts. Might as well to catch up with the news. Opening the magical newspaper and Alphonse let out a loud yelp when reading the headlines.

Cornelius Fudge: Dropping out of the Race!

Alphonse read the article, wondering what was going on. At that moment, a tapping sound broke his trance. He looked over to see an owl tapping on the window with a letter in it's beak. Scrambling over to open the window when see the letter was sealed with a wax seal of the Ministry of Magic. Opening the window for the owl, who swooped in to drop off the letter and flying out again.

"Hm… what's going on?" Edward lifted his head to see his brother frantically reading a letter.

"Cornelius Fudge withdrew his name to become Minister! No one else is opposing Madam Bones for Minister."

"….Ooooooh. That…. I knew I forget to tell you something. She used the flue to tell us of the announcement before it became publicized. You were saying goodbye to Mei when she called in."

"…"

-.-

Shouts and screams of pain rang out from a compartment. Students surrounded it, wondering what was going on in there. No one wanted to open the doors in fear of getting in the middle of whatever was happening in there. The only adults are on the train is the trolley lady and conductor. The train just left the station and they are stuck with a possible killer on the train.

"Do those sounds of fear sound familiar to you?"

"It does."

"Sounds like Mr. Elric whenever he does something stupid."

"Or just for the hell of it."

"Terrance, open the doors."

"…Rock-Paper-Scissors?"

Standing in front of the door now stood the 13 students that managed to pass the Alchemy Exam, go through Mr. Elric's torment and not quitting the class via due to said teacher's torment. They were all playing a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors to see who has to interrupt the fight. Terrance lost.

"Oh Truth…" Terrance cursed under his breath and opened the door of the compartment. Apprehension filled within him at see his teacher had managed to crawl into the luggage rack trying to get away from his brother. There were papers scattered around the compartment and the Elric Brother's paid little mind to their audience. Terrence reached down and picked up a random paper and read it's contents.

"Madam Bones…Minister… other stuff… all of which is in the Daily Prophet…"

"Get away! I forgot! Don't try to kill me!"

"How many times do I have to tell you to keep me in the loop!"

"Mr. Elric… Professor Elric?"

Alphonse and Elric stopped their immediate actions, they turned around to see their terrified audience. "Uh…"

"Are you done?" Terrence deadpanned.

"…Help me…" Edward cried out in desperation.

"Could you close the door?" Alphonse asked sweetly, all the while reaching for Edward's neck.

"Alright. Just remember the trolley will be here in an hour. Have a good trip." Terrence said and closed the compartment's door, all the while ignoring his teacher's screams of mercy. Turing around to face the crowd of his fellow alumni with a deadpanned expression and voice. "Ignore them."

-.-

"Do you know the reason, Fudge dropped out of the race?"

Bones flicked her wand around her office, her old office, to pack up her belongings. She is going to be moving into a new office tonight and this was the only time she had to pack. Normally someone else would do it, but she needed the time alone. Well, as much one could get for the newly 'elected' Minister of Magic. In the old office are her niece, Major General Armstrong, Major Miles and Shacklebolt. Her niece, now had to have protection 24/7 and wanted to spend her time with Armstrong. Said woman is there simply for political reasons… and pick on Mustang once he makes an appearance. The Major is always there with the Major General. Shacklebolt, a bodyguard out of formality.

"They said that if he had to deal with…" Shacklebolt motioned over at Armstrong before he continued speaking, ignoring her grunt in acknowledgement. "He would like to live with the remaining of his sanity."

"Typical politician."

"He is still in St. Mungo's on Floor Four. He's not leaving anytime soon." Shacklebolt ended placidly.

"Oh, that's it? I am more surprised no one else is willing to go up against Bones… or myself." Armstrong said offhandedly, sarcasm filled her voice. "Good. That takes cares of the weak and now you have to watch your back."

"I know. That is why I am assigning Shacklebolt as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Now I don't have to worry about that and deal with everything else… and worry… why did I ever agreed to do this…"

"Something about the import of tea…" Susan piped up.

#Alchemy Series #Tiny Steps #FMA #FMAB #HP #HP/FMA #HP/FMAB #Crossover #AU #Fanfic

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raendown · 7 years

Link

Pairing: TobiramaKakashi Soulmate au: The one where you gain a unique power when you touch for the first time

Follow the link or read it under the cut.

The thing about living in a place called Fire Country is that one very quickly grows tired of the irony of the frequent forest fires which blazed through the surrounding areas. As a young snarky child Tobirama had always wondered why his parents never bothered to move away to somewhere better, somewhere safer. It wasn’t until he had grown up and gone away to university in another city that he understood. One can’t help falling in love with home, no matter what flaws you find there.

He’d been lucky in life to have never been personally affected by the fires which sometimes touched the edges of the little village he lived in. No, his personal heartbreaks came from another source. Konoha was a mostly quiet place which appeared almost to hold its breath in the wake of the tragedies which happened over a decade ago, when a rare sickness had spread throughout the population and caused deaths by the dozens. Tobirama had lost two of his three brothers as well as his mother. His father had been broken by it all, withdrawing into himself until most days it seemed as though only Tobirama and his eldest brother Hashirama were left in their sprawling family home.

Leaving for university had been healthy for him, a three-year window of breathing space to finally put the past behind himself. Coming home had been inevitable however. Tobirama didn’t think he could ever live very far from his older brother. He was twenty two years old now and although he most often chose to close himself up in his own wing of their large house, he felt at peace knowing that Hashirama was safe inside the same walls when he went to bed at night.

Life was good for the most part – a little lonely, but good. He’d been very happy for his brother when the older man found his soulmate just last year, an occasion marked by a sudden explosion of flowers from the man’s hand the moment he brushed skin with Uzumaki Mito for the first time. It had been amusing to watch but it had also pushed the thought to the front of his mind that he had yet to find his own soulmate. He was still fairly young, still plenty of time ahead of himself, but Tobirama had never been fond of waiting. He was good at it, was capable of being much more patient than any of the rest of his family ever had been, but that didn’t mean he liked it. He liked having things done sooner rather than later and this was something that was rather important.

People might think him cold because of his typical lack of expression but really Tobirama had a lot of love to give and no one around to give it to.

Four months after his twenty-second birthday the young Senju found himself chased out of the house by his only remaining sibling and told not to come back for at least an hour. It was, he knew, an attempt to force him to go be social somewhere. Unfortunately for the other Tobirama had no such inclinations; he was lonely and anxious for his soul mate but he also had a marked dislike for small talk with strangers.

To be perfectly honest, Tobirama had high hopes that his Power would manifest itself in the same spectacular manner that Hashirama’s had so that he would be able to identify his soulmate without having to go through the trial of greeting every new stranger that he came across. He had taken an elective course in university studying what little science was understood about the Powers each person developed upon meeting their soulmate for the first time. It was something that had always fascinated him – and part of him thought that if he could understand the science of it he might be able to do something about it: hurry the process, reverse engineer it to bring him to his partner, something. He was well aware that his standoffish personality meant finding his soulmate was likely his only chance at ever falling in love.

Unfortunately his studies had been disappointing in that department. A great deal of their discussions had centered around the possible answers to why certain people developed certain Powers. While it would have been interesting to find out why his brother had been given the ability to create flowers at will instead of something more useful, it wasn’t what he had been hoping for. He’d been hoping for a way to find love, a faster way than just waiting patiently for the universe to do its thing.

Since he knew very well that Hashirama would annoy him back out of the house if he did try to go back before the designated hour was up, Tobirama headed towards a nearby park instead. Luckily there were very few people out today. A mother was pushing her son on the swing set, a lone man was walking his dog around the circular path, and two teenagers were heavily involved in each other’s tonsils at the far side of the large lawn. The grass in the park was yellow and parched from the rising summer heat and not enough rain. The trees were wilted and crisp, reminding him that the news had been full of fire risk warnings again this morning. His eyes drifted back to the mother by the swings, cigarette drooping loosely between her lips, watching her carefully.

With a huff he dropped his eyes, pulling out his phone and slumping down on to a nearby bench. He’d been extremely lucky to get in to the course he wanted in university, a very specific branch of biology that only accepted so many students per year, but his shiny degree did little to help him when there were no jobs to be had in his field around here. Konoha didn’t exactly have a bustling scientific community out. Coming from such an old family they would never be short on money but Tobirama wanted to do more with himself than live off his family’s charity. He wanted to make something of himself, to spend money that he had earned with his own two hands. None of the job websites he was scrolling through, however, had any openings. If he wanted a job in this town the best he was going to get was the title of Fry Cook.

If he had his way he would get a position at the Hatake Research Institute, the small branch building next to their local hospital which rumor said had been given funding recently for all sorts of interesting projects. Trouble was that it was a small institute with no job openings. He would probably have to wait for one of the old geezers working there to drop dead before anyone even looked his way. It was starting to look like if he truly wanted a job in the field he had studied he would either need to move away from home or make a two hour commute to work every day.

Neither of those options sounded appealing to him. Sometimes it sucked to live in a small town.

Tobirama’s concentration was broken by a rough bark and he looked up from his phone to scowl at the little pug that was yapping at his feet. The thing looked as though it were telling him off for something and it took a great deal of willpower not to stick out his tongue childishly. Honestly. He wasn’t even doing anything.

“Ah sorry! Pakkun, stop that!”

He looked up to see the man at the other end of the leash, tugging on it and murmuring scolding words to his pet. Tobirama blinked. He hadn’t been able to tell from a distance earlier but the man was gorgeous. His light hair was spiky but floppy, falling over his eyes yet not quite managing to cover the scar that ran through one of them. His pink lips turned down in a strangely attractive frown as he reprimanded the very unapologetic pug. ‘Pakkun’ continued to yap at Tobirama’s toes until his owner bent down and picked him up.

��I’m really sorry,” the other man said. “Pakkun’s just a grumpy old fart. I promise he won’t bite.”

“That’s quite alright, he wasn’t causing any harm.” Tobirama paused, wondering what to say. He really was no good at small talk but he didn’t want to let this vision leave. Luck, it seemed, was on his side suddenly, for the man smiled and shuffled the dog in to one arm to hold out his other hand.

“I’m Kakashi,” he declared, eyes turning up in an adorable smile.

Tobirama reached out with a quiet, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Their hands met and he was pleased by the tight grip of the other’s fingers. Then the moment was marred by the slight grimace that took over Kakashi’s features. Tobirama dropped their hands at the same time the other did.

“Your hand is wet,” the other man. He sounded as though he were trying to point it out politely and not sound grossed out. Tobirama frowned.

“On the contrary, it’s your hand that’s wet.” His palm had been bone dry until he touched the stranger. He wouldn’t have dared to hold his phone with wet hands, he knew better than that. Hashirama ruined cellphones all the time by checking text messages in the middle of doing dishes without bothering to dry his hands first.

Kakashi took a step back from him, opening his mouth to give some kind of retort. Then he paused as he looked down at his hand. It was dripping, small droplets forming in the center of his palm to run down each finger. Tobirama blinked and looked down at his own appendage, startled to see that it was doing the exact same thing. When he held it up perpendicular to the ground, a small pool of water gathered in the palm and dribbled down over the sides.

The two men looked at each other in disbelief, Kakashi’s head tilting slightly to one side while Pakkun strained his neck to try and sniff the hand not holding him.

“I…I didn’t have a Power this morning,” the other man mumbled. “My hand’s never done this before.”

“Neither has mine,” Tobirama admitted. He hesitated before adding, “I’ve never heard of two people having the exact same Power.”

“Me neither.”

Both of them stared in silence, neither sure what to say for a few long moments. It hit Kakashi first. Between one second and the next his eyes widened and he rocked back on his heels in shock, throat bobbing like he was trying to speak around a lump that had suddenly appeared there.

“Holy shit you’re my soulmate…you’re my soulmate!”

Tobirama nodded slowly as it hit him too, feeling faint. As much as he had been hoping to simply stumble across his soulmate by accident he hadn’t truly expected it – certainly he hadn’t expected to find him just by sitting down in the park for a while. He wondered if they would have found each other if the little pug Pakkun hadn’t taken exception to him for some reason.

He’d been looking forward to this moment since he was young and now that it was here Tobirama was a little embarrassed by his inability to react like a functioning human being. His body didn’t seem to want to do more than simply stand there like an idiot, one arm hanging uselessly by his side while the other hovered motionlessly in the air, palm still turned upright and continuing to produce water. He should probably try to stop doing that. With a bit of concentration and a furrowed brow he managed to make his hand stop pooling liquid, the tiny puddle already gathered draining away droplet by droplet.

Then he jumped a little when another pale hand touched his, looking up to see Kakashi gazing back at him in wonder. Pakkun was gone, presumably somewhere on the ground now.

“You never told me your name,” the other man breathed, damp fingers clamping down around his own.

“Tobirama.”

He watched Kakashi mouth the name to himself silently then lick his lips as though to taste the syllables of it on them. It was just a quick flash of a tiny pink tongue yet for some reason Tobirama felt heat rise to his cheeks and he had to look away quickly. When he turned back Kakashi was smiling the most brilliant smile he’d ever seen on someone other than his older brother.

Although he would deny it to his dying day and insist that the very notion was cheesy and overly sappy, in the back of his mind Tobirama would always know that the moment he saw that smile he was already in love. He’s never seen anything quite so beautiful before.

Whatever he said next he had no memory of. Before he knew it he had led Kakashi back to his house and Pakkun was sniffing around the living room as he introduced his new partner to Hashirama. At some point they had woven their fingers together and he was strangely reluctant to let go so that the other two men could shake hands, trading enthusiastic greetings that he didn’t listen to. He was too distracted by the sound of his soulmate’s voice and the shapes his lips made as he spoke.

He did pay attention, however, when Hashirama gleefully asked them to demonstrate their matching Powers, jokingly proclaiming that they should register with the city as volunteer firefighters. Tobirama stuck his hand over the kitchen sink and concentrated, giving birth to a small stream of water. With practice he could probably create a tiny river all at once. His brother’s idea might have merit if he could figure out how to do that. If he couldn’t do what he wanted with his fancy degree then he might as well do something else useful – like help fight the fires that might spring up again any day now.

Confusion reigned, however, when Kakashi held his hand over the sink as well only to have his palm burst forth with flowers instead of water.

“What the hell?” Kakashi looked down at the peony in his hand, eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. “I’m not crazy right? It was water before?” He looked to Tobirama for confirmation, who nodded.

“I saw it too,” he agreed.

“That’s so cool!” Hashirama crowed, undeterred. “He matches both of us!”

Tobirama blinked, something clicking in to place as his mind made a twisting leap of logic. He reached out and brushed his fingers against the back of Kakashi’s hand – and suddenly the flowers turned to water, burbling out from his skin like a backyard fountain.

“How!?” Kakashi demanded. Tobirama grinned, fascinated.

“Your Power isn’t the same as mine,” he said. “It’s the same as the last person you touched. Your Power is to copy the Power of others!”

Without thinking he went off on a tangent about the possible scientific explanation for that and how it would work, the formation of DNA and the ‘memory’ of Kakashi’s cells. Hashirama groaned and the sound made him realize he was probably being boring again, going on about science and biology and all of the research he’d always wanted to do on the subject. His jaw snapped shut with a small click, cutting off the flowed of words. Kakashi made a quiet noise of protest.

“Wha-? Don’t stop there!” He tugged on their entwined hands, making Tobirama wonder when they had woven their fingers back together again. “You were on to something good there! The idea that my DNA has a rapid-adaptation mutation is fascinating! I’d love to bring you over to the Institute some time and set you free with all the equipment. Some of those studies you mentioned have incredible merit!”

Tobirama blinked. Then stared. Then blinked again. He’d never met anyone outside of his university classes who wasn’t instantly bored when he started talking about these things.

“Institute?” he asked. Kakashi nodded with a wide grin.

“The Hatake Research Institute? By the hospital? I guess I didn’t get a chance to mention my full name, Hatake Kakashi. Technically I haven’t inherited anything yet but my dad’s pretty much retired and I run most things around the place anyway.” He paused to tilt his head questioningly. “I don’t suppose I could talk you in to a visit? If I could bribe you in to joining the team we’d love to have someone with your kind of mind.”

Hashirama guffawed, head thrown back and both hands holding his stomach, while Tobirama found himself stunned into immobility not for the first time that day.

“Bribe him!?” Hashirama boomed out another laugh. “He’s been salivating over your Institute for years. You’ll have to force him to go home every day!”

“Oh.” Kakashi took a good look at the transcendent expression on Tobirama’s face, then affected a very smug look. “You’re just getting all sorts of good news today, aren’t you?”

Tobirama didn’t have the words to reply and so he didn’t even try to speak. He’d never been the best at expressing himself verbally anyway. Instead he simply leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a frantic first kiss, fisting one hand in the front of Kakashi’s shirt like the other man was all that was holding him to the earth. Kakashi gave a quiet moan of approval and slid his own hands around Tobirama’s hips.

Neither of them heard Hashirama gagging and telling them to take it elsewhere. Nor did either of them notice the older man giving up and leaving, giving them a little time to themselves. What they did notice was how complete they felt to be in each other’s arms – and the slow seeping of water through clothing as each of them lost control of their newly discovered Power, soaking their shirts and entirely ruining the moment.

#soulmate collection #rae writes #tobikaka #tobirama #kakashi #fanfiction #naruto shippuden #fought tooth and nail to finish this #i needed to feel like i had accomplished something #i don't even like it as much as i'd hoped #ugh #catch me outside ignoring all the events going on #as i slog through all the prompts i still have

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