#2 that i just found again are I FIND THIS TRIO IMPORTANT AS THEY ARE SEEING DOING DIFFERENT THINGS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lighthaunting · 4 months

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Lay Wolfsbane in my Palm [Demon!DoA x GN!Reader] [Ch. 2]

[Chapter 1] [Ao3 Version]

Content Warnings: Minor blood, descriptions of panic attacks

There’s a gnawing pain throughout your skull, and the sharp words bordering on yelling in the background certainly didn’t help. The light above you feels like it’s searing through your eyelids.

“They could have a damn concussion, for all we know!”

“I could solve this easily then, yes? It would be an accident.”

“No! The higher ups would have our heads if they found out you managed to k—”

“Perhaps you should mind your tongue,” a third, monotone voice interrupts. “We have a listener, after all.”

The argument abruptly stops; their voices sounded unfamiliar. You can feel eyes burning into you, but you can’t be bothered to care over the pain. The back of your head feels sticky, no doubt with blood. Just how hard did you hit your head? You can’t recall much of what happened, just speaking to Dazai. Afterward, you messed around with that stupid ritual book—

The ritual. The fire and laughter. The ritual working—

You sit up abruptly, body screaming in protest at the harsh movement, but that wasn’t important, now. It takes a second for your vision to unblur. You wonder if you hit your head hard enough to cause serious damage, because the blurry silhouettes of horns and wings surely couldn’t be possible. As your vision clears, you open your mouth to yell, scream, anything— only to snap it back shut over the leer the dark-haired one was giving you, no doubt a warning. A chill runs along your spine.

His skin was pale, a jarring contrast to the bat-like wings tucked behind him, paired with a thin tail. A pair of ram horns elegantly curled around his head. His eyes are a brilliant shade of purple, but look dull nonetheless. He looks exhausted, or maybe just sick, with sunken in eyes and dark marks under his eyelids. He’s pretty, although it’s in a vaguely terrifying way. Out of the trio, he looks undeniably the most intimidating, maybe not physically, but it felt like he was looking through you.

The other man—demon, stood next to him, is the strangest of the group. His horns stick upright, slightly curving inwards. He’s wearing an eye patch that was largely hidden by his long, white hair, and the other pale eye of his had a scar running up the side of his face. He had no wings, unlike the other two, but you can still see a spade-shaped tail swaying behind him enthusiastically. He’s staring curiously at you, as though he couldn’t decide on something.

The last one is, quite literally, ethereal looking. He has a pair of pale, feathered wings folded close to his body. He looked angelic, although the pair of horns that also stuck out from his head spoke otherwise, which were noticeably shorter than the horns of the other two. He has a tail, as well, though his seemed to have some sort of plume at the end instead of anything sharp. His eyes are a calm, stormy gray, despite his brows pinched together in stress. His hair is choppy, long enough to reach his hip, and two-toned; one half white, the other a muted purple.

They’re all a bit pretty in a peculiar way, which you shouldn’t note given your current situation, but the thought invites itself into your mind nonetheless.

“Ah! So our dearest summoner finally awakens!” The one with the braid exclaims with a light accent, taking a step forwards to bow performatively. “Nikolai Gogol, at your service!”

“Knock it off with the theatrics, would you?” The one with two-toned hair scoffs. His gaze turns to you, brows furrowing into a worried look. “Hey—uh—are you alright? You hit your head on the counter pretty hard …”

It takes a moment for you to find your voice again. “Am I in hell or something …?”

He gawks at you openly, shooting a brief look at Nikolai, who looked like he wanted to laugh. “Well—no.”

“I concussed myself hard enough to begin hallucinating, then,” you wince, tentatively touching a hand to the back of your head. Red stains your fingertips as you pull your hand back, but frankly you’re too baffled by the rest of the situation to care.

“You’re not hallucinating, this is real—I’m Sigma. It’s probably best we get you to a hospital, somehow, or clean the wound at the very least.”

“No need, we can take care of it here,” the dark-haired one finally spoke up. Like Nikolai, he had a similar accent, though much thicker. He moves towards you, but seeing you flinch back, he pauses where he stands, although he looks disdained.

“I’m not fucking going anywhere with you until I figure out what’s going on.”

“Yet, you already know exactly what’s going on. Do you not?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you spat.

“You, the summoner, completed the ritual, and it worked. Next, we will form a pact—”

“I thought it was for one demon, not three!”

He looks irritated at the interruption. “You gave three offerings, not one, as you were supposed to. As a result of your idiocy, you’ve invited three of us into your home.” Nikolai is standing behind him, looking impatient and resorting to looking around the apartment curiously, while Sigma looks tense, wings curled around himself as his gaze flicks between the two of you.

“Whatever, fine. I didn’t think this stupid circle would actually summon anything, I didn’t want to form a pact so we can just call it off. Can you just—get out of my house already?”

Nikolai interrupts, giving you a fanged grin. “That’s the thing, summoner! We can’t just ‘call it off’, it’s already started!”

You don’t bother responding, just glaring at the demon and gesturing for him to elaborate. The warning from the book that had been missing text suddenly made more sense, now. You should be more afraid, right now. Maybe you were still a bit disoriented by the head injury, but you were more annoyed than anything. Surely, this couldn’t get any worse.

“When you start the ritual, you give your object. Something important to you,” he moves to the pile in the ritual, plucking the bracelet out. It is remarkably unharmed, if not covered in a bit of soot, despite the three offerings you set out having caught aflame (you’ll mourn the loss of your textbook later, for now, it is the least of your concerns). “Through this object, a bond forms that tethers us to your soul! You do have one still, by the way!”

“For now,” the dark-haired one, still yet to introduce himself, chimes in with a cold smile. “That tether will remain either until you complete the pact—” his pupils narrow in a serpentine manner, “or you die before you can complete it.”

You shudder, moving backwards from where you sit on the floor. “So, what, then? I form a deal with you all, and I have to exchange my soul in turn?”

Sigma grimaces. “We are … unsure on whether or not you can form a pact with all three of us or not. Deals traditionally involve the exchange of the soul for a favor, yes.”

You shakily reach a hand out to Nikolai and he gets the memo, dropping the bracelet into your palm with a cheshire grin. You tie it snugly back around your wrist, spinning it around with tremoring hands. “Unsure? I can’t be the only one who screwed this up, how can you be unsure?”

“About that …” Sigma trails off, passing an unsure look to the other two.

“The only people who’ve ever formed pacts with multiple demons ended up dying before the pacts could finish!” Nikolai finishes, still smiling down at you.

You suck in a deep breath, blood pounding in your ears as the room goes silent. Sigma’s look is similar to pity, but the other two don’t seem to care. Getting up on shaky legs, knees knocking together, you take the old book, silently excusing yourself and ignoring the pain blossoming in your head and vision wavering. You feel their eyes on you, it crawls along your spine.

The bathroom door clicks as you lock it. Ignoring the hushed words from the other side of the door, you flip through the book desperately, once, then again, and a third time, to no avail. There’s no mention of summoning multiple demons, or of ending a pact when it's been started. You’re sure, now, that that’s what the book warned you of, yet you ignored it anyways. The dark-haired demon had been right, your own idiocy had landed you in this predicament. You scream in frustration, hurling the book through the bathroom mirror, struggling to calm your breathing as you sink down to the floor, nails gripping into your sleeves. The floor tiles are different than you remember. You count them nonetheless. The quiet murmurs stop, your shuddering breaths don’t.

You’re unsure how much time passes until there’s a gentle knock on the door. It opens with another click and a gentle creek. You don’t remember unlocking it, or standing, for that matter. You’d count the floor tiles again if there wasn’t an apparent equivalent to the grim reaper in front of you.

Sigma looks concerned. If he notices your faint look, he doesn’t comment on it. “I apologize for interrupting—we should probably clean that wound, though, you hit the counter pretty hard.”

“I’ll do it myself,” you grab a first aid kit from the cabinet, shutting it louder than you should have, and brush past him, stepping over the glass scattered all over your bathroom floor. You can hear his heels click against the floor as he trails behind you.

While you’re scrubbing the dried blood from your scalp, head dipped into the sink and probably looking awfully stupid in front of your unwanted guests, the dark-haired demon invites himself to further discussion. “You have yet to say what you’d like from this pact. Surely you have something in mind.” It was blatant that, of the trio, he was the least keen on sticking around.

“I don’t even know your name, jackass,” you say with a grimace as you rinse a particularly tender part of the injury. At the very least, the sting of pain keeps you grounded.

“Fyodor Dostoevsky,” he answers, reluctantly. His tone wavers like his patience is wearing thin, and you wonder if he’ll reach into the sink to throttle you with the way you’re speaking to him.

You realize, then, that Sigma had never given you a last name, but can’t care enough to pry. Blindly grabbing for a towel (someone eventually hands you one, you don’t know who, but you thank them instinctively, anyway), you dry off and finally introduce yourself unenthusiastically. The bloodied towel feels ice-cold in your fingers.

“There’s nothing I want. Nothing worth dying, at least.” The towel is carelessly discarded on the counter.

“Every human has some selfish desire, we just have to exploit it,” Fyodor sneers. “Every demon has some sort of specialty, that’s what the projections in the circle are for.” He reaches a hand out towards you, trying to beckon you closer. “I can offer power, sometimes intelligence, if the situation calls for it.”

You take a step away from him, shaking your head adamantly. You swear you see his eye twitch at the refusal.

“I offer revenge!” Nikolai invites himself over, leaning close to you and throwing all sense of personal space out the window. “Whether it’s fair or not. I can offer more than that, obviously, but that’s the main thing people want from me. If you want someone to ‘disappear’, I’m your devil.”

“I think I’m good,” you cringe.

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind,” his cheshire grin widens, and you’re not entirely sure what he’s trying to imply.

“My specialty is with greed,” Sigma states after briefly scoffing at Nikolai. “I can bring riches, if that’s what you want.”

You briefly consider Sigma’s offer, thinking about your student loans. You bite back the impulse. “I’m not making a pact with any of you.”

You think Fyodor’s going to smite you on the spot with the icy glare he’s giving you, and even Sigma had a thinly veiled look of annoyance on his face.

Nikolai doesn’t seem to care much, rather stepping too close for comfort to sling an arm around your shoulder despite your protests. “Guess you’re going to be stuck with us haunting you until you finally choose your fate, then!”

Sigma sighs, tapping a heel against the floor impatiently. “I suppose we will be staying with you until one of us forms a deal with you, then.”

“Absolutely not! You can stay somewhere else.”

“We can’t,” Sigma frowns. “Because of our tether to your soul from the summoning, it’s not safe for either parties to be separated for extended periods of time.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

“I can’t afford to house three of you, let alone one! I’m already struggling to keep up with renting alone.”

Fyodor and Nikolai both immediately turn their gaze to Sigma. He looks at them, exasperated, and sighs. “I can deal with that. I’ve got the money.” He slips something from his coat, dropping it onto the counter.

You gawk openly. “Is that fucking gold? Did you just pay rent in gold?”

“It’s not like we use human currency in hell.”

“You– No, you know what? Fuck the tether, get out of my apartment,” you snap, picking up the gold and shoving it back in his direction. “I seriously don’t have time for this right now, I don’t need your gold, I don’t need a deal, just get out!”

“I’d advise against it, dearest summoner,” Fyodor quotes almost mockingly. “If we’re away too long, you’ll risk the tether breaking—” he leans closer, eyes holding that same hollowed out gaze as he glowered at you. “Have you ever wondered what the sensation would be like? To have your soul ripped from your body? I can promise you it’s much more agonizing than I can put into words.”

The room feels colder than it’d been before. You gather your courage. “I don’t trust you in my home.”

Nikolai sneers, tilting his head and snapping out of his faux cheerful persona. “You’d send three demons loose into the world, then? There’s no telling what a devil can do out there.” The threat that rolled off his tongue so smoothly didn’t go unnoticed.

You take a step back, finally relenting and breaking your eye contact with the demon. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards like he’s pleased with the gesture.

“Fine. I’m still not making a deal, though. I’ll find another way to break this off.”

“How full of hope you are,” Fyodor spat. “I would’ve loved to have wrapped this up quickly.”

“Ah, no need to be so negative, Dostoy! Now we have an entire world to explore in the mean time.”

Sigma rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “At least one of us is thrilled.”

“Not quite, but someone doesn’t want me to take care of it my way.” Nikolai’s smile widens as he turns his sight to you again. “Now, if you’d be so kind to introduce yourself as our contractor.”

The look in his eye makes your hair stand on end, and its apparent just how terribly you’ve screwed up today as he reaches a gloved hand out with a fanged grin. It widens once you spit your name out and he parrots it.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see what this brings.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #sigma bsd #bsd x reader #fyodor bsd #nikolai bsd #decay of angels #fyodor x reader #nikolai x reader #sigma x reader #x reader #reader insert

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mysweetgirl2-love · 2 years

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Sunk in Familiarity - Kakashi Hatake x Reader

Jesus christ, this went waaaay over my personal word limit.

Though! I like it enough... it's a little rushed in the end? But I think the story ends on a good note, and unless I was wanting to make a part 2 I would've done the pacing more justice.

Either way, here's some fun antics with Team 7 surrounding their lovable Sensei ^^! Hope you enjoy :))

Prompt #7: Costume

Word Count: 5.5k

✦✧✦✧

Free days were far and few between once you’d become a sensei for the Academy. Even with you having not being tasked with an individual team of genin for the foreseeable futures, a career some of your colleagues recently undertook at the request of Lord Third, your schedule wasn’t entirely open either. You didn’t mind, though; your peers still stuck to being home, or at least close to it, with only going out into the fire nation to complete D-rank missions.

Regardless of that, your job was just as important as the individual sensei’s who harbored the teams to face the rest of the shinobi world. Preparing the kids in the classroom for the field was a vital first step, one that you were responsible in helping them take.

It more so just meant you had to deal with the kids all at once instead of three at a time, work out their childish qualms with one another before sending them off to participate in missions and the rest of the shinobi-world.

Your recently graduated class had all successfully found their sensei’s with peers from your past, and all were turning into fine ninja as far as you were concerned. Antics would still rise up among the trios, today being no different in schemes from some of those familiar students among the Hidden Leaf.

“Sensei!” You were interrupted mid-stroll along the village fence by a hoarse shout from behind, the voice’s person not hard to discern.

You turned on your heel, the gleam of the kid’s recently acquired headband blinding you momentarily before you could focus on the blonde’s ferocious grin, “Hello, Naruto—“

your voice felt short with surprise in finding he wasn’t alone, you then readjusting to see his other two teammates standing over his shoulders, “Sasuke, Sakura... is everything alright, you three?”

“We need your help, M’am!” Sakura, your forever fiesty fighter spoke up, “We’ve been put on a secret mission.”

“A secret mission, you say?” This can only mean so many things, and it wasn’t against your interest to find more out, “Without Kakashi-sensei? Sounds dangerous.”

“Nevermind him.” Sasuke scoffed before taking a step forward now, pushing Naruto aside much to the other’s audible dismay, “He can’t be involved in this.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head on its side, curiously looking over each former student, “Why’s that?”

Naruto eyes you cautiously, his head snapping to the right and then to the left, him leaning to look around the back of you before again turning over his shoulder. Once all directions had been throughly checked in his better judgement, you assumed, he finally centered himself back in focusing on you. He waved his hand back in his direction, beckoning you to lean forward in which you comply to nearing the group of genin.

He cups his hand up towards your face, against the front of your ear, “It’s about Kakashi-sensei. We’re gonna finally see the face behind the mask!”

“You’re serious?” You ask quietly, a little taken aback by their goal.

Out of any scenario these three could make a mission out of, it’s not that you didn’t expect them to end up with this one. You just weren't expecting it, and your eyes grew wide in surprise as you pulled back to stare at the three—their own expressions letting you know they were all convinced with their self-proclaimed mission.

Your face slightly fell with the edge this knowledge gave you, “Oh, you’re all serious.”

“Yep!”

“Very.”

“M-hm!”

They all replied, sounding off one-by-one as if there was an order to their speech. A nervous chuckle resounded in your chest at that, your hands placing themselves on your hips.

“Well, it sounds like you’ll have some tough work ahead of you…” You hesitantly began, Naruto leaping up to cut you off with more information.

“We actually already have help from others!” He claimed once airborne, the kid then landing and taking your hand in his smaller, calloused one, and tugging you back slightly, “He was the one who told us to come find you!”

No longer innocently playing along, the fact that another ninja from the leaf had specifically told Team 7 to find you made you beyond suspicious. All would be quelled, though, when the man Naruto was regarding stepped out from behind the tree a few feet away.

Eyes narrowing in caution, you raised a brow in the person’s direction when you weren't sure who was approaching. The name was definitely lost on you, and the face was not going immediately connect with one you could remember. He was a stranger, as far as you were concerned.

He wasn’t outwardly unordinary, wearing what looked to be a green trench coat and a tan scarf wrapped around his neck and over his shoulders, a camera dangling against the front of his chest as well. He had shaggy brown hair which swept in his eyes and almost hid how grey they were now that you had progressively gotten closer to the apparent-photographer. The oddest thing about him was definitely the purple face paint that covered the lids of his eyes and fell in two elongated blocks over his cheeks, almost down towards his jaw. An imperfect mole punctually dotted right beneath the curve of his smile, making him into… what you would describe as a unique individual.

“Hello!” The ninja chimed, and it was like a ghost of someone you once knew was suddenly standing in front of you—and just as quickly, the feeling was gone. The voice before you belonged to a stranger all over again.

“Hi.” You shortly responded, the kids beside you visibly tensing at the hard tone you held, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the village.”

You surely hadn’t, everything happening in front of you just felt off. Like the situation itself was somehow amiss… you just couldn’t point out a valid enough reason as to why. Superstitious as ever, you were sure Kakashi would also feel similarly if he knew what was going on.

Even with your less-than-friendly greeting, the man managed to widen his smile into a grin, “No, you wouldn’t have!”

“His name’s Sukea!” Naruto spoke back up from your side, grabbing your attention to dilute it from the scarfed man, “He’s wanting a scoop.”

“… A scoop?” You repeat, raising an unimpressed brow in the adult’s direction—him finally letting out a nervous laugh.

“I—I’m a photographer, you see!” Sukea brought his camera up from his chest, motioning it towards you, “Trying to get the latest and greatest documented from the five great nations. Simple as that.”

“Simple?” you huff an irritated grunt, turning on your heel to begin walking away, “I thought you three were better than talking to crazy strangers.”

“No, please sensei!” Naruto yanks at your arm, the force causing you to stumble back into a halt, “We need his help!”

You scoff in wanting to object to the spiky-haired boy’s whines—but you also saw how Sasuke and Sakura looked up at you with a similar yearning. Saying no to three was much more difficult than just one, and you slumped at the thought.

“So, why need me if you have him anyway?” you cautiously ask.

The kids all gave each other hopeful looks before again regarding you, a new note of excitement within their manner. One you found to be maybe a little too visible, and you swore you heard the self proclaimed photographer snicker.

“Sensei…” Sakura started, in responding to your question, “You really don’t know?”

You shook your head, confused enough as it was. Not fully grasping a solid plan as to how your talents would even begin to help discover what stay hidden beneath Kakashi’s mask. There must’ve been something you were missing, the three genin smirking now in your direction before looking back to Sukea. He had stepped even closer now, a similar smirk like the kid’s mirrored on his features.

Evermore growing in your confusion, the look on Sukea’s face further added frustration to your list of feelings. And now, him being a complete stranger wasn’t the issue—he clearly knew too much for your liking that really became your annoyance with him. Like he was in on the biggest secret this whole mission could have, and was only stringing you and Team 7 along for his entertainment.

“Am I supposed to?” You countered—not towards Sakura. Your eyes were glued to Sukea, challenging him to laugh if he would.

“Sukea pointed it out to us yesterday.” Sasuke interrupted this time, his arms stiffly crossing over his chest, “The way Kakashi-sensei acts around you.”

“He what?!” You shouted back, jaw slack and definitely shattered at your feet below you, “You guys were spying on us?!”

“No, no, not them.” Sukea took a step forward, the nervous smile pulled back over his features, “Just me.”

“You.” The edge in your tone was clear, no longer afraid in offending now knowing you were facing your stalker, “Why the hell were you spying on us?”

“Please, it’s not…” he stumbled, as if looking for the right words to say, “I wasn’t doing it to be a creep.”

“Well, you failed on that end. Clearly.”

The photographer fretfully voiced your name, like it were a forbidden word; and for him, you’d damn well consider it one. The airy voice he had when saying it made your skin crawl, you were throughly freaked. Even with the harsh glare you had been giving him ever since being introduced, he still spoke up your name. “Let’s clarify—It wasn’t spying. Do you even remember what you and Kakashi were doing yesterday?”

Of course you knew what the two of you had done yesterday. You had been looking forward to spending time with him all week, it’d been awhile since the both of you got to spend any time together and were wanting to stop by your favorite book spot. It was just that, a nice outing followed up with some ramen for dinner. So when…

“Obviously you were hiding yourself from us yesterday.” You grumbled, now following Sasuke’s attitude in crossing your arms over yourself, “I think that fact makes it ‘stalking’.”

“Agh! Nevermind if you think it’s stalking or not!” Naruto sounded up again, the fiery kid clearly fed up with whatever conversation could be left. “Sukea says Kakashi-sensei obviously has a soft spot for you, and if we lure him out with your presence we’ll definitely be able to catch him off guard!”

Your brow furrowed now in Naruto’s direction, and the overwhelming feeling of defeat with giving in to your favorite trio’s wishes was on your horizon.

“Yeah, well how can he know that just by spying on two people for an afternoon? Hm?” You wave off the blonde boy, turning to face the three once again. “Besides, guys, I don’t think this is really a good idea. What’s so important about seeing under Kakashi’s mask? I’ve known him for years, at this rate, and still don’t know what he looks like. Does it really matter that much?”

Naruto and Sakura’s eyes blew wide whilst Sasuke merely huffed emphatically through his nose, the first two then erupting into complaints.

“Of course it matters!”

“Sensei, this could very well be the most vital information upcoming ninja like us could be getting our hands on!”

“Don’t you think since Kakashi’s our sensei now that we should see what he looks like! What if…” Naruto froze as his mind played catch up with his thoughts, and something clearly struck him, “What if we’re asked to identify a body! How would we know if it was him or not?!”

“His hair—“

“WE NEED TO KNOW!”

You flinched at the screeching children, your shoulders slouching when they finally waited for your response, even Sasuke showing little signs of anticipation for what you were going to say. It was hard to make the decision—as much as you loved helping them out, this seemed like a bad idea. And, you were looking out for your friendship with Kakashi, if he found out and got upset? Who knows what would happen between the two of you…

“You know…” You jumped at the incoming voice of Sukea again, warily then turning to glance his way, “Regardless of what happens, I think Kakashi would be proud of them for displaying teamwork with others if you were to help them.”

The suggestion didn’t really help in your decision making, but when you looked back down at Team 7 to still find their unwavering hope in gaining your support in their super, secret mission… there was really no way you could bring yourself to say no.

“…Alright,” The kids gasped in excited surprise as you finally gave in, “I’ll help… but nothing too crazy! I’m backing out if things get out of hand, and—“ You reach over the kids heads, not hesitating to snag the strange photographer by his collar; much to his surprise. “I’ll be bringing him to the Hokage, personally. Capeesh?”

Team 7 was reminded of their earlier days in classes where you’d switch out with Iruka to give the poor man a break, remembering how you’d whip the class back into shape in his absence and you weren’t worried about shaking the shinobi up a little along the way. With the fresh memory in mind, the three heads carefully nodded in response, Sukea still awkwardly leaning over them—resisting against your firm grip.

You regarded the kids once more to make sure they understood the severity of which you meant this, pushing back against Sukea to put him back behind his ‘protectors’. “Good. Let’s just hurry up and get this over with…”

Turning on your heel, you started to head back into town, mentally beginning to make a list as to where the grey-haired shinobi might have already ended up this afternoon. The kids, giggling and whispering a couple times to themselves, faintly cheered encouragingly to one another before than running to catch up with you. Sukea, thankfully, staying to walk behind.

With no telling to how this could turn out, you tried putting your best foot forward in leading you to help the kids succeed, a new hope now on your mind as well. Maybe helping them wouldn’t end in disaster, maybe you would finally see the face of the one shinobi you had always thought to be such a desirable mystery in your life. The person you never went further than asking to hang out with, the one you’d indulge in your deepest secrets with a feel safe knowing he was merely listening to you. He meant so much to you in everything you experienced alongside him, it was hard to believe you were trying to invade such a private fact about him on a random afternoon like this.

Maybe it would end up being fine, maybe he wouldn’t be upset and possibly find it funny that even adults were in on this little task. Whatever the case would be, you were now filled with a newfound eagerness to get to the bottom of this. Alongside Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura… and the odd acquaintance Sukea, what could really go wrong?

—

So many things, it turns out. So many things could end up going wrong.

The plan you and your newly-founded team had come up with seemed solid. You, seemingly innocent and harmless, would wait at the corner of town with the other four off and out of sight. In their absence, you would sit in wait for Kakashi to eventually head down the road to where he thought he was meeting Sasuke for a training lesson; instead was supposed to find you in a surprise attack of hugging him around his neck and holding him in place with Shikamaru’s shadow possession. Yes, Naruto had even gone that far to get the back up of Shikamaru, along with a handful of his other friends, if you weren’t able to get the mask off in time for Sukea to snap a photo.

It seemed simple enough, and was a whole lot better than Sukea’s suggestion to make it seem like you’d fallen into the river prompting Kakashi to come save you. No way in hell were you letting that happen in risk of mouth-to-mouth when already the idea of Kakashi in any romantic setting had you reeling in the privacy of your thoughts. That much wasn’t happening.

Even with the ‘better plan’ being anticipated to be put into action, and the help from the rest of Naruto’s newfound friends from other Teams, it still wasn’t enough. In the end, Shikamaru’s shadow possession wasn’t strong enough to last on both your’s and Kakashi’s shadow with Tenten using Shikamaru as a boost to follow after Rock Lee and Neji. What was meant to be harmless was actually the end to your full out attempt at discovering the mystery…and Kakashi was still there, masked and clearly upset with the advantages taken against him.

It was now, after running in a full out sprint and splitting up from the rest of the dashing genin that you hopefully lost the pursuing Team 7 Leader. You were gasping for air when you finally came to a stop back where you first had gotten yourself into the mess in the first place—right along the first fence, now beneath the shade of the oak tree.

Wearily, you sighed out with both hands on your hips, steadily inhaling to try and regain control of your gasping lungs. Finding it safe enough to now rest, and not wanting to seek out Kakashi in facing consequences just yet, you approached the tree’s base and promptly fell against its wood.

Quickly sliding down the tree once graced with the first bit of rest, you lay yourself out in the shade and calm from whatever the hell just happened. Tired, nervous at the idea seeing Kakashi, the little relief you held with now being by yourself was alleviating—to say the very least.

Evidently, it wasn’t meant to last.

“Didn’t realize how fast you would be, after all that.”

You gasped at the approaching voice, eyes flying wide and snapping up in the direction of the approaching individual. It took all your willpower not to sneer in the direction of Sukea, his camera clunking softly against the center of his chest. Rolling your eyes obnoxiously, you crossed your arms over your chest and further sink to the ground. “What the hell do you still want?”

“Everyone ran away so fast, I didn’t get a chance to really apologize.” He cheekily laughed, your brow only hardening at what you assumed was his ‘innocent-guy’ act.

“Apologize?” You had a list of what you could want from him, at this rate. An apology wasn’t among the bullet points you’d already thought through.

“Yeah, you know… for wasting your time.” He gestured to your exhausted self on the ground, you snorting a humorless laugh to begin your response.

“Really?” Tilting your head on its side, you raise an eyebrow up at him, “Wasting my time?”

Sukea merely smiled at my questioning tone, his lips pressing against each other in a hard line as he peered down at you.

“Still just as suspicious of me?”

“Why would that have changed?” You frowned again, sitting up a little as he suddenly took a step closer, “It’s not like you gave me any real grounds to trust you. I only went along with it for the sake of Naruto and his team.”

“Ah, well why be so cautious of me in the first place?” Sukea stepped up to stand beside you against the tree, his arms folding over his chest this time too as he used the trunk to support his back. He was clearly waiting for a response, and you bit the tip of your tongue to keep from saying something unnecessarily rude at his taunting. “…Does it matter?”

“Sure,” Sukea shrugged, looking off towards the sky suddenly, “humor me.”

“I—You.” Stunned a little, you scoffed and waved him off suddenly; if you weren’t already fed up enough with his behavior up to this point. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And, you still haven’t answered my question.” He promptly responded, his legs suddenly folding as you found him then seated up next to you, “Do you have a good reason to be so guarded? Or, is it just stubbornness?”

It sounded like he knew people called you stubborn, or it was something he was somehow familiar with. Whatever the case may be, you finally revolted in yourself and turned to confront the photographer.

“What gives you the right way to be so rude? I mean, really. We’ve never met and—“ Sukea began chuckling at your sudden outburst, and your confusion fell apart into pure disbelief at the reaction. “I’m sorry… is something funny about this?”

“No! No, no, no, hah… not at all.” He turned to grin down at you, the stupid grin on his face making dimples slightly carve at the sides of his face. “Clearly.”

You blink in trying to regain conscious thinking in this moment, the tease he so clearly was directing at you flustering you in ways you didn’t want to be possible. Yet, here you were at his mercy… and none of it made sense. You weren’t able to reason as to why he made you feel this way, there was just something about him…

“…God, who are you?”

Sukea laughed out again, this time having to throw his head back with the sheer force of his laughter. You couldn’t help but apprehensively smile now, confounded at the ninja beside you.

“Trust me,” He huffed out softly, an all too familiar nickname of yours breathing from his lips before he turned back to you, “you know who I am. I think you have to know me better than anyone in this village, at this rate.”

There was a change in his voice, and it resounded in an all too familiar tone you could pin-point in a crowd if the circumstances called for it. Still not entirely understanding what was happening, the cogs in your brain were fervently churning in your mind. Sukea’s grin widened at the thoughtfulness riddling your features, and your heart suddenly sunk in familiarity.

“Holy shit,” You fell off the tree’s trunk and landed in the patchy grass below, your hands flying out from under you and scrambling to sit you back up at a distance this time, “no way.”

“Haha, did I get you?” ‘Sukea’s’ hand lifted over his head, fingers tangling into his seemingly brown locks before tearing at the roots; the hair pulling off his head with ease and revealing a spiky mound of grey bangs that lay beneath. There was no longer a mysterious photographer sitting beside you, your long-time shinobi friend revealing more than just his identity to you in that moment.

“Kakashi—“ You breathed, gawking very openly at the fact you were now truly facing the man behind the mask—and had been since earlier this afternoon, “why?—“

“I meant it earlier when I said I’d be happy to see you helping out my team with learning more around the importance of teamwork.” He beamed, the stupid beauty mark from earlier making your heart race now.

You wanted to grin in return, laugh along with his happiness at even the lack of success Team 7 had with their secret mission. But, you couldn’t help but stay so completely awestruck in the wake of this reveal. He was as beautiful as he always had been in your eyes, and all you wanted to do was now memorize the features before you in case it was the last time you’d ever be able to see them again. Kakashi must’ve sensed your wariness, his grin closing into a warm, sincere smile—his face pushing closer in your direction.

“Not what you expected?” He softly asked.

You scoffed at the question, shaking your head at how tickled this made you. “I mean… I guess I didn’t know what I was expecting entirely.”

From the space you had placed between the both of you, you tentatively placed a hand back in front of you and crept back towards him. He watched you with an easy stare, and arguably looked maybe the most peaceful you’d ever seen him. It made your face flush in quiet heat and nerves feel like they were pumping fire through each motion you made to close the distance between the both of you.

“…I’m sorry for antagonizing you so much, today.” Kakashi was suddenly apologizing, you huffing in surprise at how sudden it felt for you while he continued, “I did chase after you to apologize.”

“Ah,” You slowly nodded at his reasoning, now taking the chance to taunt him as he had today, “well… in that case, you’re forgiven.”

Kakashi laughed openly at your acceptance of his apology, shaking his head and letting his grey hair settle from being stuffed in the wig all day. You took another look at his eyes, suddenly confused as to how he pulled this disguise off in the first place.

“Wait, your sharingan…” You didn’t think before placing a steady hand on his face, leaning closer to try and peek at his left eye, “How?”

“The contact works as a suppressant, made with me in mind.” He calmly responded, now weaning away from your touch and instead arguably pressing into the warmth your fingertips held, “I used them to go undercover when I was still in Anbu…”

“I see,” You hummed, leaning back a little to see his face in its entirety again. It was then you registered just how forward you had acted in holding his face, and your hand quickly snapped back to your side. Shame shot flared up inside you like a burning fire, and you frantically began tripping over yourself to apologize, “I—I’m so sorry, oh my god, I wasn’t thinking, and—“

“Woah, it’s okay,” Kakashi lifted a hand to silence you in which you were quick to comply, the same hand then falling back to the one that had just been pressed against him. Delicate fingers wrapped timidly around your wrist, he too being hesitant to take whatever ‘this’ was a step too far, but regardless brought your palm back towards his face where he goaded your fingers back to his cheek and flattened your hand back against him. “I… I didn’t mind.”

Your chest felt tight in anticipation, and you had no words to explain how it all made you feel. Kakashi wasn’t rushing you to speak, he too was staring at you as he thrived in the adoration between you both. He swallowed, a quick breath as he spoke up again.

“Uh… remember when Naruto mentioned how… I act around you?”

You paused at the question, trying to recall what he had said an hour or so ago. “Yeah…?”

“Was that… uncomfortable?”

“What?” Your eyes grew wide, shocked he would even be worried about such a thing, “No… no, never uncomfortable. Not from you—Sukea? Another story.”

Kakashi chuckled again at your joking of his persona, his breath hot against the edge of your palm, fleeting just as quickly as it had appeared. It made your hair stand on end, and you shuddered softly at its touch. He watched you with his eyes now halved in appeal, studying each glimmer and gleam you produced just by existing in the space beside him. You were the diamond in his roughest of days, the light at the end of the tunnel he always hoped to reach. Instead, you were reaching out to him in this moment, physically holding him and letting that light encapsulate him fully.

Forever grateful is how he would feel in relation to you, the you who saved him when all else was lost; the you who kept him safe when you probably didn’t realize it.

“Well, then, I apologize for Sukea’s efforts in trying to help my team.” He murmured, his eyes dangerously flitting towards your parting lips, further eliciting the deep desire he held anytime you were close like this. This was the first time contact had been made, though, so what was really stopping him from going further.

Dignity? He had none left when it came to you, surely you realized that too?

“Hah, I accept.” You resounded, your thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you felt into the trance that came along with those grey contacts, “So… with your attitude differing around me, this is okay then?”

Kakashi didn’t voice a response, just softly brushing his head against your skin in a nod. This was more than okay, this might as well be a dream come true.

It was too hard to keep away any longer, the anticipation had built in both of your hearts and one finally had to brim. You swept in towards him, and took his lips in yours. His newly exposed, newly perceived lips that instantly melted to yours and made it as though fireworks resounded in the broad daylight around you both. It was so sudden, so solidifying in your heart that there was no longer denying how right you were for one another. Perfection was hardly the right word to describe how fulfilling this finally felt.

Your hand reached past his head, pressing to the shag of the hair growing towards the back of his neck—lightly tugging at the roots while he too moved to bring you in. Put you somehow closer, wanting at your hearts in one another’s chest to maybe touch if the moment allowed it to be so.

“Sensei?!” The screech of a student sounded from the end of the road, you and Kakashi leaping back at the interruption. “I think those are their feet! Over here, Sasuke! Sakura!”

“Crap!” You whispered, Kakashi already frantically moving to grab the wig he foolishly took off in broad daylight. But, he was already prepared for something like this happening, the man turning to you with a light smirk as you watched him hopelessly. “Hide, before they get here!”

“Way ahead of you~” He chuckled, a single finger pressing to his now sorely red lips in shushing you, and your cheeks warmed to another degree at the smirk he flashed before disappearing into the branches above. You took a glance and sighed at the relief in not being able to see any sign of him—the shinobi securely hidden amongst the leaves.

“Sensei!” Sakura was the first to reach you, your head flying back forward to see her approach. “We were so worried Kakashi-sensei had caught you!”

“Yeah, sensei… that was close!” Naruto bounded to her side, the two overwhelmingly worried for your sake. Sasuke didn’t look anymore bothered than he usually did, regarding you all warily.

You laughed cheerily at the troublesome genin, shaking your head gently in their direction, “No, guys. I’m fine, really… I escaped.”

The two visibly sighed in relief, Sasuke’s eyes closing to show his own sign of comfort in seeing that you were fine. You grinned, hoisting yourself up from the ground and standing before them.

“So…?” They all faced you again with the trailing off in your tone, “What’s the verdict?”

“For Kakashi-sensei?” Naruto nervously replied, awkwardly scratching at the back of his head, “Uh… I think—“

“I believe we’re done for the day.” The three shinobi jumped at the incoming voice, slowly turning to face the wrath of their Team Leader. Kakashi regarded them sternly, his cold gaze finding you and almost easing. He muttered your name, the noise muffled by his mask; you couldn’t help but smile in response.

“Kakashi.” You replied with a light nod. He put a hand on his hip, shaking his head disappointedly in your direction before turning to the three.

“What you idiots tried pulling today was incredibly rude. You should learn to respect privacy!” He lectured.

“We’re really sorry, sensei!” Sakura spoke up, “It was Naruto’s—“

You flicked the back of her shoulder as she tried pinning the blame, the smaller girl flinching in response but respectfully quieting down at the correction. Kakashi regarded her with a weary sigh, looking once more to you.

“I apologize for my team’s behavior in getting you wrapped up in their shenanigans today… I hope you can forgive them.”

“Oh, trust me,” You smiled happily in the direction of the three, the outcome maybe the best thing that had happened to you in awhile, “I already have.”

The trio frowned in confusion at how warmly you spoke now, not knowing the bright side that ended up being your now reality. Kakashi didn’t let them stand around for long, grabbing at Naruto and Sasuke’s shoulder before shoving them back in the direction of the village.

“We best be off now,” He grumbled over their whining complaints, “these three still have to report back to Hokage over their attempt of seeing me yesterday.”

They all groaned, you lightly giggled at the resistance but waved in goodbye anyway. “I’ll see you around, you guys… take care.”

“Bye, sensei…” They all replied meekly, the consequences now being faced.

Kakashi didn’t pause in walking, but instead turned lightly over his shoulder—a wink from his visible eye sent your way. You mimicked the gesture, grinning happily at the thought of seeing him later.

It was going to be sundown soon… you could only guess what this all meant from here.

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multicolour-ink · 3 months

Note

I really love your idea of the Anastasia AU. Mario, Toad and DK being a friendship trio has so much potential and I love it.

I've got some questions if you don't mind:

How were the years for Luigi growing up in the Mushroom Kingdom?

How were the years growing up in the orphanage for Mario?

Will Mario ever regain at least some part of his memory or will it be lost forever?

haha sorry I'm just really interested in this

Anastasia AU (story)

Thank you 😊 I'm very happy to hear you love the AU. Yes Mario, DK, and Toad as a trio has so much potential for fun and chaos 🤭.

To answer your questions:

1. Lonely (for both bros) ;_; For Mario, on top of his memory loss, no one ever came to claim him when he was growing up in the orphanage. He was left for many years wondering of there was anyone out there who cared about him, who loved him, but they never came forward. The only reason he never gave up hope was his music box. It's so well made that surely that means he came from a good family? And why would it not be important if he was found with it in the first place? It all makes him all the more determined to find out.

Luigi on the other hand, spends years mourning over his lost twin. He knows Mario isn't dead - he can just sense it. But if that is the case, where is he? Why is he so certain that someone who has never been found is still out there? Rarely does he ever smile. He can't without his brother. On top of that, he is racked with guilt - his mind cruely recounting the moment when Mario's hand slipped out of his, over and over again. He'll never forgive himself.

2. Oh yes, Mario does get his memories back, though some are a bit patchy. Most of the memories to return fully are ones that concern his brother 🤗 For ones like with his parents, Luigi has to show him photos from albums that managed to be saved, and slowly the gaps start filling in.

#albeit some memories will stay hazy #super mario #mario #luigi #mario and luigi #anastasia au #once upon a december #stripetkattelalala54 #multicolour ink answers

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magicaltrans · 1 year

Photo

TRANS HP RECLIST BY TRANS PEOPLE

With the collective effort of many wonderful people on the Magical Trans discord server, we created a trans Harry Potter reclist by trans people!

Any type of media, ships, ratings and HP characters were allowed, the restriction being that it had to include a trans main character!

Because there were so many great recommendations, the reclist is split in 3 parts – 2 of which are Drarry focused. Find part II (Drarry, Gen – Mature) and III (Drarry, Explicit) here: Part II, Part III

PART I – No Pairings, Rare Pairings, Snupin, Snarry, Wolfstar

COSPLAY

S.Q.U.A.D by @themischiefmanagers | TheMischiefManagers (Trans Teddy Lupin (and many more), Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley, Video Series on YouTube) What @samyistrying loved about it: The YouTube Channel TheMischiefManagers is like a goldmine! They made multiple Cosplay YouTube Video Series with different HP characters (the marauders era (wolfstar!), golden trio (drarry!), and more) and all of them are MASTERPIECES! S.Q.U.A.D. is their take on Queerness in the HP World. It's incredibly educational, funny, heartwarming and so so important! Oh, and freaking relatable! They did an incredible job in conveying such a complex topic in a nuanced and fun way. It's so great! Also, it's by queer/trans people about queer/trans people and that is FELT! They have since stopped making new videos but their channel will always be one of the greatest treasures within the fandom! Check it out! Summary: Follow Teddy Lupin and Vicky Weasley as they take on outdated traditions at Hogwarts and create their own (not so secret) rebellious group called SQUAD - Sourcerous Queers United Against Discrimination! Tags/Warnings: talk about transphobia, gender dysphoria, queerphobia

ART

“Is there a name you’d like me to call you?” by @upthehillart (Trans Harry Potter, Trans Remus Lupin, Digital Art) What @samyistrying loved about it: upthehillart has quite a few trans HP artworks (I could die for her NSFW ones) and she's obviously an iconic artist within the fandom, so what's not to love? I chose this particular artwork because it's such a wonderful and sweet moment between Harry & Remus and I'm probably not the only one who needed to hear (/read) Remus' words. (I might've teared up but don't tell anyone). I need to end this praise with a quote: "Never forget that there will always be people that accept us in our most truest.” (ugly crying again) Tags/Warnings: nothing, just wholesomeness

FIC

GENERAL

Magical Metamorphosis by Eon_the_Dragon_Mage (Trans Female Harry Potter, 160k words, General) What the reccer loved about it: Holly’s journey through it all is really lovely (even if it does include some bad stuff happening) Summary: Concerned when Hermione sleeps late, Harry decides to check on her and climbs the Gryffindor Girls' Stairs. This begins a journey of self-exploration and transition for Harry as she blossoms into her true self. Tags/Warnings: Depictions of abuse, dysphoria, transphobia, torture, death, mention of suicide, and descriptions of self harm

Not Forever (and that's okay) by doshu | @vdoshu (Everyone’s Trans, Fleur Delacour/Nymphadora Tonks/Bill Weasley, 900 words, General) What @piarelei loved about it: short, sweet and right to the feels. It's cozy, it hugs you softly, it feels right. I love a good sip of polyamory and I found that this little thing is a good bite of validation for those who need it. Summary: It’s a cold winter’s night, and Tonks is working the late shift. That means chimney cake, hot cocoa, and stories in front of the fire, while Bill and Fleur wait for their missing third to come home. Tags/Warnings: t4t4t, POV First Person, Name choosing, Fluff, cozy feels, Polyamory, Nymphadora Tonks Lives, what even is canon

EXPLICIT

The Measure of a Man by Acid | @ac1d6urn (Trans Male Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Severus Snape, 50k words, Explicit) What @temnurus (ao3) loved about it: This fic was an incredibly powerful look into Harry's mind during his transition. The relationships were rich and deep, and the feelings in this were both raw and immensely powerful. I related strongly to parts as a transmasculine nonbinary person, and the topic was covered honestly and thoroughly. Harry and Severus' characterizations were gorgeous, and the evolution of their relationship was stunning to watch. This is a must read for me. I thoroughly enjoyed it and highly recommend it. Summary: Several years after defeating Voldemort, Junior Auror Harry Potter discovers himself and, at the risk of losing his childhood love, follows the truth. Through it all, Snape is an unexpected solace. Will he become more? Tags/Warnings: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Spinner's End, Closets, Coming Out, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misgendering, Gender Dysphoria, Cross-Generation Relationship, Post-Hogwarts, Auror Harry Potter, Alcohol, Not Epilogue Compliant

Fix your heart (build an altar where it rests) by BlueSundayCake | @bluesundaycake (Trans Harry Potter, Trans Severus Snape, Remus Lupin/Harry Potter/Severus Snape, 32k words, Explicit) What @basicallyahedgehog loved about it: Pahn makes such a rare pairing feel so natural, and the alternating POVs give us a gorgeous insight into each character. Harry and Snape's gender identities don't feel like a Plot Point but just another part of their story, a small piece of the beautiful jigsaw puzzle that is this fic. Summary: In the summer of 1998, three wizards come to terms not only with still being alive, but with a new life-changing discovery: a soulmate mark. Shapeless, colourless, painless. Like a drop of watered down ink. A story about falling in love, healing, and reconnecting with a sense of self. Tags/Warnings: alternative universe - soulmates, post-war, severus snape lives, remus lupin lives, headmaster severus snape, professor remus lupin, hogwarts eighth year, grief/mourning, paganism, cross-generation relationship, polyamory, slice of life, hurt/comfort, angst, depression, healing, slow romance, threesome - M/M/other, explicit sexual content

Lay down your armour (be with me forever) by BlueSundayCake | @bluesundaycake (Trans Severus Snape, Severus Snape/Remus Lupin, 21,6k words, Explicit) What the author loved about it: Writing this fic for me was extremely cathartic! It was my ultimate egg moment of "oh shit this could be me?" and it's my favourite work to re-read. Also it's an emotional gut-punch. Also features moodboards & fanart!! (Art by Lu Endland | @luendland ) Summary: In which two boys kiss and everything falls apart. A story told over a decade of encounters, where a body feels like a graveyard and another like a battlefield, and names are whispered tenderly until they feel real. Tags/Warnings: Heavy angst, internalised transphobia (resolved throughout the story), body dysphoria, body worship, scars, the mortifying ordeal of being known, names, hurt/comfort, happy ending, strap-on sex, self-acceptance

A Bigger Splash by wolfpants | @wolfpants (Trans Albus Severus Potter, Draco Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, 7k words, Explicit) What @vitaminpops loved about it: the vibes are super immaculate like the tension, the body positivity of it all like seeing albus grow more confident throughout the fic it's just. I love it. And it's hot. Summary: It's his dad's 45th birthday in rural Sicily, and all Albus wants is to be seen by Draco Malfoy. Tags/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Sexual Tension, Body Worship, Praise Kink, Age Difference, Summer Vacation, Italy

WOLFSTAR

GENERAL

A Story of Lions and Lionesses and Other Sentient Beings by Justherefor1 (Trans Sirius Black, Trans Caradoc Dearborn, eventual Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, 3k words, General) What the author loved about it: i just loved writing an understanding of gender and agender fic Summary: A magical button flashing “down with the cistem”, a young Griffindor who is brave and struggles to balance mapping the school, family affairs, Animagus potion brewing to support a beloved Werewolf, and gender struggles. Tags/Warnings: dysphoria (implied), (internalised) trans hate, Underage Drinking, enforcement of the gender binary, Coming Out, Walburga and Orion Black's A+ Parenting, mentions polyamory as totally normal as it is

TEEN

Boys Will Be Bugs by The_Infamous_Jack | @ace-catboy-ryuuzaki (Transmasc Remus Lupin, Genderfluid Sirius Black, Transfem OC, Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, 395k words [in progress], Teen) What @remolupini loved about it: it depicts Remus' childhood and teenage in such a great balanced way, it shows that they're still children despite the war, and still gives some good outlooks despite also touching on the darkest moments and thoughts in his life. Summary: Remus Lupin has more than one secret, and there’s no way of knowing who he can trust. All he has are his parents, but they can’t protect him when he goes off to Hogwarts. But then Remus meets a boy and his two other friends, and soon realises that some secrets can’t be kept forever. Tags/Warnings: parental death, dysphoria, internalized ableism, anything that comes with coming of age during a war, mostly canon compliant

MATURE

Discards by picascribit (Trans Sirius Black, Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, 70k words, Mature) What Justherefor1 loved about it: it leaves no eye dry. It goes to where it hurts. It’s surreal beauty and real pain. It’s not only about trans topics but also class differences and making ends meet. It’s actually also about pride and prejudice. Summary: When 21-year-old assistant librarian Sirius spots a cute hipster college student at the Seattle Public Library, he just needs to figure out a subtle way of determining whether he's into guys. But Remus's life is more complicated than Sirius knows. Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical & Modern, Romance, Angst, Getting Together, Parental Rejection, Homelessness, HIV/AIDS, Drug Use, Sex Work, Seattle, Friendship, Fluff, Found Family, LGBTQ Characters of Color, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending

EXPLICIT

Have Time To Grow by Queer_and_trashy (Trans Sirius Black, Trans Nonbinary James Potter, Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, 31,6k words, Explicit) What Justherefor1 loved about it: Queer themes, queer people. Love the conversation before sex with a trans person. Love how it’s not only falling in love but also making it happen!! Summary: Before him in all his glory was Sirius Black, queer jesus of the hipster poetry world with the long hair and sins to prove it. Remus hadn’t been able to get through one semester in his years of teaching without a student recommending Sirius’ poetry, their doe eyes filled with infatuation. Seeing up close the mind and body that had a habit of crafting words to crack open rib cages, Remus understood their sentiment. Remus is a queer literature professor weary of the social world, who meets Sirius a loud and wildly popular spoken word poet who specializes in love that burns hot at both ends. Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Poet Sirius, Professor Remus Lupin, Light BDSM, Dom/sub, Getting Together, Fluff and Angst, past trauma, implied/referenced PTSD, Happy Ending

If you would like to join the discussion as a trans person or to become a better ally, join the server! 18+ only.

A million thanks to all the wonderful reccers and artists/authors, of course! Representation truly matters!

#trans hp reclist #trans hp reclist by trans people #trans reclist #hp reclist #trans harry potter

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duckapus · 3 months

Text

The Orange Spaghetti Incident

It all starts, as many terrible things do, with Meggy and Domain in the castle kitchen. Apparently Meggy has an idea for how they might potentially actually cook something edible for once.

"Couldn't we just take a cooking class or something?"

"They all banned me already." She shrugs, "Look, just hear me out. I've noticed something interesting about our...issues. It seems like the harder we try to make something good, the worse the results are, sometimes to reality warping levels."

"That is why I'm worried, yes."

"So I thought; what if we purposely try to cook as badly as possible?"

"That...huh. So we'd basically be using reverse psychology on our own meme energy?" It should be noted that, while Domain is technically the most sensible of the hologram trio, he's also a former odd-number SMG, and has retained some of his more chaotic tendencies, "It sounds just crazy enough to work. Alright, I'm in."

"Great! Let's get started!" She starts digging through the fridge, "Now, what in here's expired..."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

*2 hours and several bad decisions later...*

The kitchen now resembles a cross between a garbage dump and a warzone. Meggy and Domain sit in the middle of the carnage, staring down at their creation.

"They're..."

"Orange. Like, orange orange."

Sitting on the counter in front of them are two plates of spaghetti, and indeed they are orange. But not merely colored orange, no, they seem to be the very concept of Orange made physical and molded into the shape of two of those standard spaghetti plate props. They look at each other nervously.

"Well...we've come this far."

The two simultaneously pick up one of the plates and, with some hesitation, eat them.

*THOOM!*

Sitting dazed and covered in soot in the resulting crater, they look at each other once again.

"..."

"That was..."

"Amazing."

"God yes! It was literally the best spaghetti I've ever had!"

Of course, it's at this point that they realize something very important. They made an impossibly good batch of spaghetti, possibly the best spaghetti...and will likely never be able to make it again since they were relying on Rule of Funny for it to work at all, and were deliberately not paying attention to what they were doing (since they were actively cooking as badly as possible) so they don't know the recipe.

And they just so happen to know someone who is absolutely obsessed with spaghetti and would be livid if he found out he didn't get to eat the Best Spaghetti Ever.

"...We can never let Mario find out what we've done."

"Agreed."

#smg4 ocs #meggy spletzer #domain #the orange spaghetti saga #:)#this is the kind of trick you can only pull on the universe once #not a proper arc or storyline just something a little silly

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philliamwrites · 1 year

Text

SWYAATL 15: Dear Comrade

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x fem! Reader

Warnings: alcohol, young adults being horknee, depression at the end

Summary: “Yeah, I am. I’m glad I found you.” You mumble the last bit, plucking the leftover flowers from your dress until you hold the branch of the forget-me-not between your fingers. “And even though we’ll go our separate ways next week, I’m glad we’re friends. It’s weird … you’re someone I don’t want to forget, Eren Jaeger.” You offer him the flower. His eyes, now a dark green, are nothing like the soft blue—they’re different in so many ways, but you like them. Eren takes the flowers from you, looks at it like he doesn’t know what to do with it, and settles for putting it in your hair, behind your ear. “I won’t just disappear, you know,” he says, an exasperated tone swinging in his voice as though he’s talking to a three-year-old that’s still struggling with object permanence.

Notes: [01] || [14] | [16]

Words: 9k

A/N: Here we go, folks. Arc 1 of the story is over. I've already started working on Arc 2, and I've already noticed how fast-paced it is compared to what I've written until now. That being said, I can't tell when updates will resume, but I'll take a break from uploading for AoT for the time being. Once I'm back in the new year, I hope I can bring you a more regular upload schedule, but no promises.

Thank you everyone who's been on this ride for me, I can't thank you enough. Especially for the overwhelming love people show for Emil (I'm so surprised there are only asks about him on Tumblr than on the other AoT characters).

15: Dear Comrade

Commander Erwin Smith is a tall, impressive man. You’ve grown used to a handful of the other boys looming over you, but nobody manages to quite tower as Erwin does, making you feel small and insignificant even though you’re supposed to be the most important figure tonight. He’s wearing a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled back to his elbows. With arms the size of logs and shoulders wider than the Walls, nobody dares to stand in his way.

It immediately sobers you up. Now you wish you’d at least worn a jacket or something.

He gives you an elegant, curtsy bow, offering his broad-palmed hand on which a wooden chip rests. “Might I ask for this dance, Maienkoenigin?”

“Uhm”, you say very intelligently. Sir, yes, Sir, is what you should have said. Instead, you blurt, “Should you be out here at all?”

Erwin doesn’t appear bothered by your question—then again, you think more is needed to throw the Commander of the Survey Corps off balance than a skimpy dressed, tipsy woman just fresh out of Cadet Corps.

“Should I and my men not be allowed to join the revelries from time to time?” he asks in return.

You can feel your face ablaze with shame. “I—I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to, Sir.”

Erwin chuckles. “At ease,” he says. “I must admit, I am out here not only for pleasure. I came to have a first look at the cadets. The Survey Corps is always on the lookout for promising new recruits.” He waits patiently for you to finally settle your hand in his, and turns his head to see which song the band strikes up next. On the other side of the plaza, the two string musicians each begin playing different songs, stop, and laugh at their error. When they bow their instruments this time, there’s harmony and the crowd moves in tandem; amongst all the other faces, you spot Marco spinning Mina, and over there is Ymir forcing another tankard of beer down Christa’s throat. It makes you giggle; you want nothing more than to join you friends on the other side of the plaza and dance with Mina and Marco and kiss them both, and find Jean and tell him how much he means to you and how glad you are that he is part of your life—oh, and the Shiganshina three, the Golden Trio, there’s so much you need to tell them, especially Eren, oh Eren—

“I imagine everyone must be excited about graduation,” Erwin says, easily spinning you out of the path of a boisterous couple kicking up their legs in every direction, and successfully yanking your thoughts away from your friends and back to him. “Has anyone voiced their interest in joining the Scouts?”

Your thoughts go right back to Eren, who burns so bright it blinds you whenever he speaks about the Scouts. Mikasa will follow him, of course. There is little you imagine she wouldn’t do for him. And where Mikasa and Eren go, Armin follows. You feel as though with those three alone, the Scouts are about to obtain a whole squad.

“Some,” you say, and try hard not to flinch when Erwin places his hand at the small of your back, leading you through the crowd. He’s an experienced dancer, and you wonder if that’s a hiring requisition for superior ranks. “Though opinions are split, and not in the Scout’s favour.”

You feel Erwin’s gaze on you. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. But then he gives a small, crooked smile, and says, “When is it ever? That doesn’t stop us from doing what we have to do.”

“What’s it like?” Your voice is so quiet, you doubt he hears your words. “The outside?”

Erwin is quiet for a moment. Even though his hands don’t stop to guide you for a moment, he feels as though his mind is far away. In the end, he settles for, “There’s still so much I don’t know,” but he speaks it in a whisper as though they are meant for him alone.

The dance goes on and on; everything spins so fast: the music, the laughter, the warmth from living people. Girls and women spin in circles, their hair—black, brown, scarlet, and metal gold—flows like banners in the wind, and amidst them, silver flashes like a shiny coin. Like the moonlight flashing between dark clouds and illuminating the endless, dark night.

You trip over your own feet, staring in that direction. The only reason you don’t fall is because Erwin catches your arm in time, steadying you. “Is everything alright?” he asks, but it seems very far away. You tear away from him and dive into the crowd in search of what you’ve seen—who you have seen, because there is no mistake that only one person wears hair woven from silver starlight.

Dizzy and disorientated, you dart through the crowd towards the fountain, shouldering people aside, using your knees and elbows as weapons. Cheers and calls follow you which you ignore—you want to be invisible to them all, to throw away the crown and run back to the meadow, run across it barefoot hand in hand with—

The band’s song haunts you; the melody, their voices—it is the only thing that you can hear while running towards him.

O let the earth a-tumble, love, And humble you withal, Keep running. It’s up to you now, Up to you now, love to

Love run, love run For all the things you’ve done Run for all the things that drum Run for all those pages thumbed

Love run, love run For all the things we wished we’d done Run from all you know that’s coming Run to show that love’s worth running to.

When you emerge from the crowd, panting and with your heart trying to break free from your chest, no one with silver hair is waiting for you on the other side. It shouldn’t surprise you, yet you only realise now how much you’ve hoped, how much you’ve depended on the possibility that somehow, by the smallest chance, Emil would appear and surprise you. It feels as though you are losing him all over again—you are an open wound that you have no idea how to close. Tears burn behind your eyes, suddenly the emotions are so overwhelming you feel like you’re drowning in them.

You need to leave. As fast, as far away as you can until you can breathe again, until it doesn’t feel as though you are missing one of your limbs.

You turn and dash towards a narrow side alley—and bump into a solid, hard back. Before you can mumble an apology, a very familiar voice brightens the dark pit in your chest.

“Hey, what’s up?” Eren asks.

You tip your head back to look up at him. Eren used to be your height when you started out in the Cadet Corps, but now he looms over you, almost a whole head taller. Something about seeing him right now takes the wind out of your sails—you’ve searched for a haven and while you haven’t arrived where you want to be, maybe you’ve arrived where you need to be.

“I—I’m okay. I’m okay now,” you respond finally, unable to look away from Eren’s face. He dips his chin a little, as if sensing there is more you’re about to say, but when nothing comes, he gives you a crooked smile and turns to disappear back into the crowd. Something about the sight of his broad shoulders retreating closes up your throat, wedges sharp needles into your mouth.

“Stay,” you say, catching his wrist, feeling his hot skin. Eren stops, turns slowly. “Don’t leave. Please.”

He looks up from your hand to your face and studies it; studies your face for the answers to the questions flickering in his eyes. They pierce through you, hook right under your skin. Usually, you’d hate to lie bare and vulnerable before someone, but it’s different with Eren. Until recently, there was only one person whose thoughts you cared to know—what they thought about you, specifically. Now, Eren has become that person.

Slowly, Eren reaches for your hand and untangles it from his shirt. Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, but before you can say anything or move away, he takes your hand and leads you away from the feast through narrow alleyways, hidden away from prying eyes. It’s quiet here, and deeply dark. A few couples have sought that secrecy and are together now, joined at the lips, pressed close against the walls. Another song has begun, but slower.

Eren slows only when you reach the gates leading outside Trost District. He leads you off the path to where the grass fields stretch like silver patches under the moonlight. Immediately, you notice how much easier breathing is out here in this quiet, calm place. You take off your flower crown and drop it behind a crate, and hope you will never have to wear a crown again.

You find an empty spot down by the riverbank and sink down into the grass, the earth still warm from the day’s sunlight. You’re surprised. For the loud mouth Eren is, he can be quiet when it matters. The only light source comes from a big campfire people have put up near the water. It casts Eren in a warm glow that softens the planes of his face. He looks younger—like on the day you met on the first day of training when his eyes looked big for his face. His eyelashes are still stupidly long, stupidly dark—curving like the crescent moon above your heads. Light stubble runs along his sharp jaw. You wonder how his skin would feel to the touch.

You’re certain Eren is aware of your eyes on him, but he keeps staring ahead unblinkingly, waiting for you to fill the silence. He’s putting your back against a wall like that. You don’t know how much longer you can run. From him, from yourself—always towards the past as though Time itself slows to let you play, stealing the hours and turning the night into day.

You let your hands roam over the soft grass, and feel your fingers stumble over leaves and petals.

An idea blossoms.

You pluck the flowers from the ground and begin to weave a crown.

“You know, this means affection and admiration,” you say and show Eren a purple-crowned dianthus. He blinks. “And this,” you continue, presenting a lilac aster right under his nose, “means I will remember you.” You pick up the next flower. “This is Forget-Me-Not.”

“Let me guess,” Eren says. “Don’t forget me?”

“So smart.”

He grins. This grin makes something deep inside you unfurl, like a petal opening up its secrets to the sun.

You return to your craft, fumbling with thin stems and fragile pallets that break off and tear under your touch. Eren watches you struggle for a good minute. When he speaks, the amusement in his voice is like soft wind grazing through leaves. “Need help?”

“I’m good, I’m just—” The stems unweave and slip through your fingers like seams coming unknitted. The sweet smell of crushed petals fills the night. Nothing you do makes the crown hold—and then you realise why.

You let the flowers fall into your lap and blink at them, feeling your eyes grow heavy. “He never showed me.”

Eren tilts his head towards you.

“He never taught me,” you repeat, a quiver to your voice, “how to make flower crowns.”

Eren clears his voice. “Who…?”

“Emil!” You stretch out your hand, showing off his ring, grinning. The crimson sphere flashes almost threateningly like spilt blood.

Eren is quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on your slender finger and the ring. “I’ve heard you mention him,” he finally says, turning his head away. His side profile seems suddenly like a stranger’s, sharp and uninviting. “Who is he?”

“My fiancée,” you announce proudly.

He turns his head so fast and sharp in your direction, you hear a bone crack in his neck.

“You’re engaged?” he asks, but there is a very unfamiliar, un-Eren like tone to his voice that makes you look at him.

You don’t think Eren has ever looked at you like this. As though you are a glass of water and he is dying of thirst, but unable to reach you. As though you are the only patch of cool, green grass in a never-ending stretch of parched, grey land. You have only seen yearning on Eren’s face when he talks about killing all Titans and going outside the Walls. It makes you feel as though you are an exposed nerve, tender and raw to the slightest touch. If Eren would reach out right now and put his fingers to your skin, surely you would combust.

His eyes seem to reach deep into you, hooking into the words buried deep in your chest, and yanking them out painfully.

“He’s dead,” you say quietly, your grin slowly fading. “I think … otherwise, he would be here. With me.”

Eren’s voice is barely audible. “Was it in Shiganshina?”

You nod, and nod, and keep nodding, feeling a thick lump in your throat. You bring your knees up to your chest, your hands wedged in the fabrics of your dress to keep them warm. Only when Eren puts his jacket around your shoulders, you notice your body is shaking, but the moment his warm knuckles brush your collarbones, the cold inside your body dissipates. The fabric is warm from his skin, the collar smells like him. You duck your head, trying to bury yourself inside his jacket.

“You know, not one day passes where I don’t miss him so much it feels that I might die,” you say, quietly, more to yourself than to him. “I don’t know if you’ve ever felt something like this.”

Eren holds your stare. If the silence is bait, you don’t take it. You inhale, slowly. You smell food and the riverbed: mud and spice, with the slight after-taste of human pollution. And sweetness; ripe flowers ready to harvest for bees and insects.

“My Mom,” he finally says after a long moment. He stretches out his long legs, then reconsiders and pulls his knees back up to his chest, mirroring your position. “I saw my Mom die five years ago and the first days after that were like hell.”

You nod. You know what that feels like. Glancing over at Eren, you think about taking his hand and squeezing it—to show that he is not alone in that grief, that you know his pain. But when you look at his hand, you find it already balled into a tight fist by his side.

Weirdly enough, it makes you smile. Of course Eren would not allow himself to break. Instead, he steels his grief into rage, into desperation, into resolve.

“We’ve lost … so much … we’re trapped like fucking cattle ready for slaughter.” Eren forces a deep, shuddering breath inside his lungs. You can see the veins along his arms stand out, and suddenly your mouth goes very dry. “I can’t live like this. Nobody should live like this.”

“You have big dreams, Eren.” You bump into his side, feeling his strong arms hard like walls against yours. He doesn’t budge. “Maybe you’ll set us all free one day.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but you see the corners of his mouth twitch. “If we ever bring down the Walls, I’ll definitely line up to throw a dynamite or two.”

“And then? What then?” It is a strange feeling, talking about a future you know won’t exist, but there is a quiet place in your heart that tries to imagine a life with no Titans, with no boundaries. It would look like a small Haven of trees, brushes hung heavy with glossy berries, red and purple and black, and small trees hung with oddly-shaped fruits you’ve never seen before and that would be home—you take a sharp breath in. Gone is the smell of green, of living and growing things, of dirt and the roots that grow in dirt, and as you blink away the picture that’s fading behind your closed lids, slipping from your mind even though you have no idea where it has come from in the first place, you hear Eren still talking: “… and after Armin and I see the ocean, I don’t know. We’ll explore the world. Find all the places in Armin’s book he always talks about. And then … I’ll pee in every major body of water on earth?”

“Oh my God.”

“You asked.” Eren bumps back into your side and you nearly topple over. When you straighten yourself, he’s looking at you curiously. Whatever he sees must satisfy him because he turns away, smiling to himself.

“What?” you ask.

“I see you’re feeling better.”

The question surprises you enough that you need two takes to open your mouth and give a response. And then you understand, he’s been trying to cheer you up. Nothing outlandish. Still, it’s like a died-out ember in your chest rekindles a fire.

“Yeah, I am. I’m glad I found you.” You mumble the last bit, plucking the leftover flowers from your dress until you hold the branch of the forget-me-not between your fingers. “And even though we’ll go our separate ways next week, I’m glad we’re friends. It’s weird … you’re someone I don’t want to forget, Eren Jaeger.”

You offer him the flower. His eyes, now a dark green, are nothing like the soft blue—they’re different in so many ways, but you like them. Eren takes the flowers from you, looks at it like he doesn’t know what to do with it, and settles for putting it in your hair, behind your ear.

“I won’t just disappear, you know,” he says, an exasperated tone swinging in his voice as though he’s talking to a three-year-old that’s still struggling with object permanence. “After graduation, whenever our old Corps meets, I’ll annoy the shit out of you. Don’t think you can slack off in sparring just because I’m not there to kick your ass.”

“Last time I checked, I kicked your ass.”

Eren throws up his hands. “Because Mikasa was distracting me!”

You wave his excuses away, then stave off a yawn. The feast doesn’t show any signs of stopping yet, but you know the second your head hits the pillow, you’ll be out cold. Which is exactly why you lie down in the soft grass, looking up at the vast starry sky above you.

“If you fall asleep, I’ll leave you here, you know,” you hear Eren say, your eyes already closed.

“No, you won’t,” you say, and just to be sure, you hook your fingers around one of his belt loops. Something suspicious like a snort comes from Eren, but his warm presence beside you remains until you fall asleep, dreaming of juniper berry bushes and trees greener than any you’ve known.

The land is bare of grass, of plants, of life. It is a vast, never-ending wasteland of rolling sand hills where every grain twinkles like little stars no matter which direction you turn. It is an alien, strange place that feels familiar at the same time. You’ve been here before, but something is missing. Someone.

His name lies on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t remember the feel or sound of it. Sometimes, you think you see someone standing on the horizon, but when you catch up, that person is gone like a mirage. The frustration builds, the taste filling your mouth with copper. When your eyes spy the person once more, you decide to call out: “Er—”

“You see someone more interesting than me?” asks Emil by your side.

You blink, dazzled, and when he offers you his hand, you take it. It feels the same as all those years ago, but nothing about him is the same. Or is it? You close your eyes for just a moment, and he smiles at you, his boyish face still young and round. “There’s no one more interesting than you,” you say, because that is the truth. “It’s just this place. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Sandy hills and a never-ending starry sky stretch before you to all sides. There’s something else, something very bright and very big, but whenever you try to look at it, it disappears, and you wonder if maybe you’re just imagining it.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” says a voice that isn’t Emil’s. You find that Emil has disappeared, and you are now standing with Eren. It’s the same game: he looks different and at the same time he doesn’t. Older, but also still how you remember him.

“Where’s Emil?” you ask, turning. You see Mikasa with Armin, and Jean who is holding a sleeping Marco in his arms, brushing away ink-black curls from his forehead. Something about Marco seems strange though, as if half of his side is turning into sand.

“What are you talking about?” Eren says. “This place is for the living.” His hands are cool on yours, and you are aware of them in a way you have not been of Emil’s as he turns you away from Marco’s sight.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

He leans close. You can feel his lips against your ear. They are not cool at all. “Wake up, [Name],” he whispers. “Wake up. Wake up.”

You bolt upright in bed, gasping, hair plastered to your neck with cold sweat. Your wrists are held in a hard grip; you try to pull away, then realise who is restraining you. “Eren?”

“Yeah.” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed—how have you gotten into a bed?—looking tousled and half-awake, with early-morning hair and sleepy eyes.

“Let go of me.”

“Sorry.” His fingers slip from your wrists. “You tried to hit me the second I said your name.”

“I’m a little jumpy, I guess.” You glance around. You’re in a small bedroom furnished with dark wood. By the quality of the faint light coming in through the half-open window, you guess it’s dawn, or just after. Your uniform-jacket hangs neatly folded across the back of a chair. “How did I get here? I don’t remember…”

“You fell asleep right next to me.” Eren sounds amused. “Mikasa helped me get you to bed. She also changed your clothes. Thought you’d be more comfortable here than on the cold ground.”

“Wow. I don’t remember anything.” You run your hands over your face, feeling your swollen cheeks from a long, deep slumber. Maybe you’ve had more alcohol than you’d expected. “What time is it, anyway?”

“About five.”

“In the morning?” You glare at him. “You’d better have a good reason for waking me up.”

“Why?” Eren asks, leaning back on his heels, grinning. For some reason this is the exact moment your brain notices you and Eren are sitting on the same bed, and you are very close to each other. He must have changed his clothes before waking you up—gone is the rumpled black sweatshirt and in its stead Eren is wearing a simple white military shirt. “Were you having a good dream?”

You can still feel cold sand between your toes, see stars twinkle before your eyes. You think there were certain people in your dream, people you knew, but the details are blurry. “I don’t remember.”

He stands up. “We’ve got our rifle rehearsal, remember? Shadis sent me to kick your ass out of bed. Actually, Jean offered to wake you up, but since it’s five in the morning, I figured you’d be less cranky if you had something nicer to look at than his horseface.”

“Meaning you?”

Eren’s grin grows tenfold. “What else?”

You throw a pillow after him, but Eren is already up and about, and out of the door before you can grab something else.

Just for a moment, you consider falling back into your bed and pretend the next couple of days don’t exist. Somewhere on the other side of the compound you hear Shadis’ roars, and decide to get up pretty quickly.

Twenty minutes later, everyone stands ready. Rifle in hand, half of them visibly fighting their hangover, the rehearsal goes as smoothly as planned: Sasha stumbles twice, and Samuel and Connie go down with her. For a moment, Shadis looks like he doesn’t want to say anything, but then he simply states you’d be all dead if those rifles were loaded, and proceeds to procure a bucket of water to douse them like filthy street cats.

It gives you a small break where you set out to find Jean. Compared to three years ago when around four hundred soldiers enlisted, only half of that number remains today. Many of them are foreign faces, and you doubt you’ll ever find friendship in any of them since your group has pretty much remained the same ever since the first weeks of trainee days.

On the other side of the plaza you spot Mikasa and Eren. She’s plucking at his clothes, which he is invisibly annoyed about, but it is a different type of annoyed than when he’s around Jean—it seems more long suffering while endearing at the same time, and for a moment you can’t help but just stare at them and realise for the first time that they look good together. They’ve known each other since childhood, and Mikasa is rarely apart from Eren. You wonder what that would be like, to know him in and out and say things that make him laugh, make him blush—just like Mikasa is doing right now, but then from this distance you see her mouth from something that looks like your name and you stare even harder until she must feel you staring like a physical presence and turns.

Catching Mikasa’s eyes, you grow even more convinced that they are discussing you, that Mikasa can read you like a book, can see through to your very soul, and is telling Eren all your secrets. As if you are shouting this aloud, Eren turns at that very moment and looks at you, breaking into an elated smile as he waves his rifle dramatically in the air, and you smile back, waving yours in return, and receive a clap to the back of your head from Shadis for your troubles. As you rub your head in pain, you see Eren laughing in delight, and that alone makes it all worth the trouble.

“Bam,” comes Jean’s voice from your side. When you turn, you see him lower his rifle. “I just shot you.”

Changing the rifle from your left to right shoulder, you follow him back to your positions to restart the rehearsal. “You know I’d come back and haunt your ass. And don’t point it at people, it’s rude.”

You can practically hear Jean rolling his eyes when he says, “Whatever.”

Back in your line, you follow the steps and march in tandem with everyone else. In front of you, Jean continues quietly enough for only you to hear, “We practised rifle handling for this one thing; what a waste of time. It’s not like we’ll ever use them against other people.”

“I guess they’re just making sure to cover the whole syllabus. I don’t like thinking about having to point that at someone else.”

“You sure as hell won’t have to,” Jean says, whipping around, bringing the rifle across his chest to his other shoulder. You do the exact same, staring up at the back of Reiner’s head. From the stiffness of his broad shoulders, you can see he’s very tense. Maybe he’s taking this rehearsal a little too seriously.

You only get the last bit of Jean’s sentence because he unobtrusively pokes you in the back with the end of his rifle. “From what I’ve heard about the MP, you’ll have your occasional thug but actual casualties are very rare.”

“Seven more days,” you whisper back. “Will you be okay without me? Who’s going to pull your ass out of trouble?”

“I’m pretty sure Marco’s got that covered.” Jean turns his head, probably on the lookout for the culprit in question. You go very still, but from the lack of Jean going on, you’re pretty sure Marco has still not found a good time to talk to Jean.

“You know, there’s still time to reconsider,” you say in just the moment the rehearsal reaches the stage where your fake rifles go off and make a deafening bang noise.

Jean turns his head, the ‘Huh?’ clearlywritten on his face.

You pretend you didn’t say anything. Maybe things are progressing the way they are for a reason.

From the 344 recruits who started out at the very beginning, only 218 graduated.

On the evening Shadis announces the Top Ten trainees, nobody is surprised to see the ten best lining up before your instructor. You feel immensely proud that both Jean and Marco have managed to hold their ground. But to you, standing in the back between Mina and Armin feels right.

All you care about is the celebration that’s right after that—the last evening you’ll spend with the majority of your friends before everyone heads off. Understandably so, Jean’s constant reminder to ‘not enter the boys’ barracks after’ gets more and more frustrating.

“Why?” you say through a mouth full of steamed potatoes. “Are you guys comparing dick sizes?”

Someone who listens in on the table across from you chokes on their spit.

“We want to have a guy’s night, what’s so unusual about it? You girls do … whatever you girls do. Have a pillow fight or whatever. But don’t come into our barracks, got it?”

True to the nature of your friendship, obviously you barge into the boys’ barracks after the graduation celebration is over. And what timing you have. Swinging the door wide open, you enter at the exact moment Jean declares proudly that in a life or death scenario, he’d totally be down for a threesome with you and Marco.

You freeze. Everyone in the room freezes. Marco unsuccessfully hides the bottle of booze behind his back. It tips over and he shrieks as red liquid spills across the wooden floor. Multiple boys boo at him, and you realise they’re all drunk.

Jean raises his eyes to yours, and you trade a look that feels like a dare. Somehow, you can’t really take a hold of what expression to make—it ranges from confusion to slight disgust to mild interest at how exactly the logistics of such a scenario would look.

Realising there’s only one thing you can do right here, right now, you take a step back and close the door again, willing to forget this ever happened. Three steps is all you’re able to make before the door flies open again, rough hands grab you and manhandle you back into the room.

“You better not tell anyone we got booze here, or I’m gonna dunk your head inside a latrine,” Daz hisses. He’s the opposite of intimidating at any given moment, but now, wobbling on both feet while pointing a shaky finger at you, even a newly born puppy has more bark to it.

You discreetly swipe away the cool spit he’s graciously sprayed over your cheek.

“So, that’s the reason girls are not allowed?” you say, putting on your best Ida-performance to show how disappointed you are. “You’re going to hoard all that and don’t invite us?”

Across the room, Samuel shrugs. “The more people know, the easier Shadis might catch wind of what we’re doing here.”

“Yeah, he’ll skin us alive.”

“I think,” you say, very slowly, “we should get everyone in here and have a final blast before tomorrow.” That didn’t get the reaction you’ve expected, but it is met with less resistance than before. “And we can also,” you add, wiggling your eyebrows, “maybe play some games? Make it exciting.”

Not ten minutes later, the boys’ barracks is cramped. Every open space around the low centre table has been taken by someone as they sit huddled together, shoulder pressed against shoulder. You’ve organised more tankards from the kitchen, and now you’re sipping from the sweet meed Daz has organised somehow. After asking him for the third time and him refusing to explain, you’ve given up and accepted this might remain the greatest secret of Cadet Time.

“So, what games did’ya have in mind?” Samuel asks after the initial excitement has settled down while everyone is nursing their drink. You can feel Jean’s body pressing against your side, clearly interested in what you’ll come up with.

“I got these,” you declare, and present a dozen wooden skewers you’ve helped yourself to, “so we can play the King’s Game.”

A couple “Oooh”s and “Aaah”s later, everyone who wants to participate has settled around the table. Since it was your idea, you can be Queen first, and you’re not here to hold hostages. While swirling the mead in your tankard, your first order is, “Number 3 has to give number 5 a kiss on the cheek.”

When Connie and Samuel rise at the same time, the rest giggles and whistles, but the boys don’t back down. Alcohol is always a nice confidence booster, so Connie makes a big show of smacking a wet smooch onto Samuel’s cheek, earning them a round of applause for that.

“Okay, my turn.” Connie downs the rest of his beverage, then smacks his lips. “I want number 4 to give number 1 a piggy back ride.”

Reiner stirs, showing his skewer with a number 1 carved into the wood. When Christa climbs to her feet, wobbly like a flagpole swaying in harsh wind, the room erupts with laughter.

“I can do it,” she mumbles to herself, her usual pale face a canvas of red—the culprit of it sitting right next to her and cackling like a maniac. Over the last years, Ymir has perfected the art of getting Christa drunk before anyone can notice and stop her. It’s quite funny to her until Reiner offers to give Christa a piggyback instead, and all Hell breaks loose.

Next to you, Jean scoffs. “Like animals,” he says, but when you look up at him, he has a goofy smile on his face. You can’t say how much mead he’s had until his glassy eyes drop down to you and he leans into your space, arching over you until your shoulders touch.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he mumbles, his breath soft against your cheek. You feel the pinprick of tears at the back of your eyes and blink against them. He can’t pull that shit the night before you go your separate ways.

Before you can reply, someone is tugging at your sleeve. When you turn, somehow magically a new skewer with a new number has manifested in your hand.

“Seven’s gotta sit on Nine’s lap,” Sasha whispers conspiratorially. She points at you, then across the table, where Eren is looking at you with a very weird expression. “By the King’s order.”

You whip your head around and find Reiner grinning at you. Jean’s presence immediately vanishes when he leans away, looking sickly pale all of a sudden when he stares somewhere else, his jaw held tightly shut as if he’s just bitten into glass.

This is a bad idea, without a doubt—but the other, much louder part of your brain thinks challenge accepted.

You crawl over to Eren who eyes you as though he’s just waiting for the hidden dagger to slash forward and cut him open, and throw one leg over his lap. Good balance so far. You sit more on his knees than on his thighs, which is enough for the first round of whistles and unnecessary remarks from your comrades. Eren has found a very interesting spot somewhere behind your shoulder that demands his complete, undisturbed attention.

“Kids, you gotta do it properly,” Reiner says, and with a slap to your back, he pushes you flush against Eren’s hips. You choke on your spit. Eren yelps.

Reiner grins. “Exactly like that.”

“Okay, okay, we get it.” You try to weasel some space between you and Eren’s pelvis, but the only place of leverage is his arms. It’s different from hand-to-hand-combat practice where touching bodies is inevitable and you’re too occupied thinking about ways to bring your opponent down than worry about girls and boys accidentally touching where they shouldn’t. But this is deliberate, and now that your hands cling to his arms to regain your balance, you notice the strong chord of muscles tensing under his shirt. His solid thighs easily holding your weight. You don’t doubt if his shirt would lift slightly, the sight of firm abs would greet you.

“Don’t move,” he hisses, grabbing onto your thighs to prevent you from squirming. It gets the desired effect, immediately shutting you up, freezing you on the spot. It also does something weird to your body. You want to close your legs, pretend modesty is a thing that you guys still do around here, but you don’t have to be a genius to understand friction is the last thing Eren needs, and that’s why he’s got an iron grip around your thighs.

Why are so many people cramped up in this tiny room, it’s so fucking hot in here. You still don’t meet Eren’s eyes. You’re close enough to feel him breathing, feel the heat radiating off his body. Not knowing what to do with your hands, they just fumble needlessly in front of you, your fingers curling into the hem of your shirt to do something. Someone laughs really loud at the back of the room.

Eren clears his throat quietly. “Nervous?”

Finally, your eyes meet. His seem darker than usual, a deeper green like a lush forest dancing to strong wind picking up before a storm. This close, you could count every single one of his long lashes.

“Why would I be?” You lean back slightly, but the friction is enough to make Eren tighten his grip around your thighs. You can feel his nails dig into your skin through the fabric of your trousers. “If anything, I get the feeling you’re the one who can’t keep up, Jaeger.”

Eren executes an eye roll that must give him a spectacular view of the inside of his skull. No wonder Jean can’t keep his cool. Or maybe it’s just an Eren-thing, infuriating those around him. A match to an explosive barrel.

You’ll give him one.

“Nervous?” you ask with a mean grin that furrows Eren’s eyebrows in question for a second. Then you roll your hips against his once but hard enough for him to feel the heat between your legs. His expression is priceless, absolutely dumbfounded and stupid and laughter rises in your throat—

Eren throws you off his lap, already on his legs and charging out of the cabin into the cool night. Thankfully most of the other cadets are too busy whooping at Sasha drinking loads of beer from an improvised funnel Connie and Samuel are holding up for her. Only Mikasa has paid attention, and is now rushing after Eren while you return back to Jean’s side. He nibbles on a dried cracker and barely spares you a glance.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Jean asks. He sounds impatient, and when he snaps his jaw shut on the cracker, it reminds you of a guillotine slamming down.

“What’s wrong with your face?” you snap back.

“No, I mean if you’ve got a fever or something, go to bed.”

“Just eat your damn crackers, Jean.”

You try to hide your burning face behind your arms, knees bent up to your chin—a small ball of embarrassment because who could have thought your little joke on Eren would backfire so bad. In that split of a second before he threw you off, his neck and face completely flushed an angry red, Eren looked absolutely ready to devour you. Desire is a dangerous look on him.

From across the room, you catch Reiner’s eyes. Mischief glints in them as he raises his cup in mock salute to you, presenting himself to be the true pyromaniac all along.

❀❀❀

“I’m going to escape these Walls. That’s my dream. Mankind hasn’t been wiped out yet. We deserve to be out there; we are free. We were born into this world to see it.”

When you turned, expecting to see Eren because you so clearly remember him saying those exact words at the graduation ceremony, you saw Emil sitting by your side instead. His eyes were closed, his long, pale lashes resting against his high cheekbones. You remembered how often he said that word, but you didn’t fully understand what he meant.

“What is freedom?” you asked, burrowing your bare toes into the warm soil.

Emil kept his eyes closed. He picked a flower and placed it on his lips. You’d never wished so hard in your life to be able to turn into a flower. He was lying next to you, his fingers resting interwoven on his chest. “It means to do and feel what you want without anyone holding you back or stopping you.”

“That sounds great.” You looked out at the riverbed. It seemed to sparkle more than usual today. “We could get there, one day. It doesn’t sound all that hard.”

“You think?” Emil opened his eyes and looked up at you. His eyes twinkled just like the river. “Look around. All these flowers. Who do they belong to?”

“Hm … nobody? Everyone!”

“Fair enough. Then, pick one that you really like.”

When you looked around, searching for forget-me-not, you spotted a nine-petalled, white flower stretching its small head towards you. “This one,” you said, pointing at it.

Emil made a small sound at the back of his throat. When you turned to him, he was already staring somewhere else, but he looked as though he’d swallowed something sharp. He bent over and ripped the flower out of the ground. “This,” he said, “is my flower now. Even though you really want it. What will you do now?”

“Ask you nicely to give it to me. Because I know you will.”

Emil smiled at that. “Pretend I am not someone nice. Pretend I am someone who is a bad person.”

“Not you.” Your reply came immediately. “Not ever.”

“Then, Marianne,” he continued, and like you knew he would, he put the flower behind your ear, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. “If it were Marianne who took what you wanted, what would you do?”

You pulled a face. “Leave her, I guess. She can have it. But I’d be very sad.”

“Exactly. She is free to do what she wants, and what she wants is to take this flower. And even though you want it too, only stealing it back from her would make you happy. Because you as well are free to do what you want.”

Your head spun from the possibilities. Emil squeezed your hand. “And what if…,” he continued in a voice that was utterly unfamiliar to you, “…what if what you want is to hurt others?”

“It’s wrong.”

Emil chuckled. “Says who?”

“It’s … it’s common sense,” you tried to argue, but it sounded weak and naive even to your own ears.

“Common sense dictates we do not kill, we do not steal. Did you know there are people living underground who have never seen the sky? Who are not allowed to come up here and enjoy the fresh air? Enjoy the feeling of the sun. They kill and steal to survive. Is that still wrong? To do what you need to do to survive?”

You grew very silent. Listening to Emil, he almost seemed like a different person.

“Look at these walls.” Emil looked up. The warmth in his eyes disappeared. “We want to go outside, see the world. But we can’t. Because there are Titans outside. Because there are enemies outside these Walls. It’s unfair, isn’t it?”

“But these Walls protect us,” you shot back. “Without them, Titans would come in and eat us.”

“I suppose that is true. Sometimes, I just wonder … if they as well simply do not have a choice.”

“Which means…” you said slowly, realisation dawning, “Titans … aren’t free?”

The corner of Emil’s mouth pulled up in a rueful smile. His eyes were almost sorrowful. “I suppose … if they feel anything at all.”

“You’re always on top of those things, Emil,” you marvelled, squeezing his hand back. “You’re kind and so full of sympathy for everyone and everything. See, that’s why you could never be a bad person.”

The warmth returned to his eyes, lightening them up to the colour of the early morning sky. “If you say so, then it must be true.”

Before you could forget it, feeling the soft petals of the flower tickling your cheek, you asked, “By the way, what flower is this? I always see it on you.”

And for the first time since you had known him, Emil lied to you: “I don’t know.”

❀❀❀

You have a feeling the headache pounding at the back of your head the next morning isn’t solely because of the booze escapade the night before. Your body doesn’t feel as weary and heavy as the day after May Day a week ago, this type of lethargy is a different kind. You pin it on the upcoming events later in the day, and focus on your current task organising everything for the cannon maintenance at the top of Wall Rose.

Marco has been quietly helping you with that for some time. The creases on his forehead run deeper than the canyons cutting into the earth south of Wall Rose. Everything points to the source of his concern being Jean, currently occupied checking the gas stock for the cylinders, still, you ask the million coins question: “Have you spoken to Jean yet?”

As though he’s been waiting for you to ask that, his reply comes immediately: “I’ll talk to him later. After the preparations. I asked him to wait for me in the backyard at HQ. Before we head off to Sina.” He shrugs. “Or maybe we won’t head off. I’m not sure how to tackle that exactly.”

You think of how much value Jean puts into Marco’s opinion; how he eats up Marco’s words right up like a starving man.

“I don’t think it matters how. You got this. He’ll listen if it’s you, Marco.”

Marco stays silent. He clears his throat when he notices you staring at him, and gives you a wry smile. “We’re talking about Jean here. He can be as stubborn as you.”

“I could beat him up for you. Make him listen.”

The wry smile turns into a full-blown grin. He puts a little more enthusiasm into helping you secure the crates with ropes onto the wooden platform that lifts you up to the top of the Outer Wall. You like this Marco better than the sombre one. You continue working like that for some time until everything is loaded onto the platform and you give Marco the sign to turn on the mechanism that lifts you up.

“You ever wonder,” he says suddenly, thumb resting on the button. When he looks at you, it feels a little as though he’s seeing through you. “… if what we want and what we need are different things?”

You wait for him to continue when you realise he doesn’t mean it as a rhetorical question. “I think it’s enough sometimes to settle for what we want. We might never know what we need.”

“Maybe,” sighs Marco. “But what if the moment is there all of a sudden and you have to make a decision?” He kneads the back of his neck, then shakes his head like a puppy shaking water off its fur, trying to disperse his thoughts. “I’m talking nonsense, sorry. Today is hard enough on most of us. I’ll see you later for the distribution banquet.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond and presses the button. With a jolt, the platform rises, and you hold onto a crate, watching as Marco grows smaller and smaller. He salutes up to you by putting two fingers to his temple. You wave back, trying to swallow around the lump in your throat.

Maybe that was his try at convincing you to change your path as well. It would be great, staying together like this for the next few years until it is time to discharge. But somehow you doubt it would be that easy to convince Jean otherwise, and you’ve already made yourself acquainted with Trost’s Garrison unit and its captain, Hannes. Of course, now that you won’t see him for some time, you find a better answer for Marco’s question: That sometimes, you settle for what you can get. That you can’t have it all.

On top of the wall, Connie is the first to greet you. “We got worried you two bailed on us,” he says, immediately tackling the ropes and disentangling them from the crates. The rest of the group is already maintaining the canons and cleaning them up. Whoever was on duty to supervise you, they’re nowhere in sight.

“Sorry, we lost track of time chatting.” You help him carry the necessary instruments and tools. When Mina sees you, her face lights up and she says something to Thomas. He looks over and grins. Sasha looks over and grins, too. It feels as though they’re all in on a conspiracy and you’re the only one left out, radiating a fervent energy that is like a flame jumping from source to source.

“What’s up with everyone?” you ask Connie.

He drops a crate, ignoring the rattling inside it and dusts himself down. “They’re just excited ‘cause Sasha swiped some meat from the pantry.”

“She did?” You rivet your eyes on her until she notices your stare. Holding your hand up in an OK-sign, she grins and throws a hand up in return. Mina squeaks—and maybe that is a little too much excitement for something as simple as that, which should have given you reason to wonder. Connie sniffs indiscreetly. “Oh, and we’re all gonna join the Scouts.”

You drop your hand and stare at him. “You’re joking.”

“Nuh-uh. I guess Eren’s little speech yesterday left an impression on us all.” He shrugs, as though a decision like that is not worth the hustle. You want to take him by his shoulders and smack his head against a wall. By divine intervention or just honed survival instinct, he decides just then to join the others and leave to your crisis.

They must think you’ll join the Survey Corps as well. But this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. You don’t just decide something like that in the spur of the moment. “What if the moment is there all of a sudden and you have to make a decision?” You wonder if Marco is in on this, and it’s all a huge conspiracy.

You take a step forward to set things right, and maybe give Mina a good shake to remind her this isn’t what you two agreed upon, this isn’t what you two wanted—

The sight is breathtaking.

It is your second time on top of the wall. Cadets are usually allowed only after their graduation because Shadis doesn’t trust you not to kill yourself by stumbling off the edge. Maybe it’s the final step for him to recognise his fledglings have grown into hunting birds capable of soaring through the skies and every year he pushes that as far away as possible.

The sight never ceases to amaze you. All along the horizon, mountains rise and fall in full splendid, covered with forests and cut through my glistening lakes and rivers. Giant, stark-white clouds rise behind them and paint the blue horizon with a severe beauty that has you shuddering with the realisation how close you are to the sky.

This is it. The sight Emil has always dreamt of, that he had longed to see for himself. The endless world; to leave the small cage and see the big world. The thought makes your heart race with wonder and excitement and fear—all after just seeing the possibility.

What if, what if, what if … what we want and what we need are different things?

“Hey, be careful.” Eren’s voice is like an anchor pulling you back to the present. You haven’t noticed him approaching, but now he’s standing close to you.

When you look at him, you blink until the sting at the back of your eyes disappears. “The wind’s really something up here, huh,” you say, rubbing your eyes dry.

Eren’s jaw works for a moment before he turns and takes the world in. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s something.”

It feels like no more words are needed. He gets it.

“You have to tell me,” you mumble. “What you’ll find beyond the horizon. Okay? Whenever you leave to kick Titans’ asses, you have to come back and tell me.”

Eren turns to you. The wind tears at his hair, but he stands firmly. Nothing can throw him off. “Of course I’ll come back,” he says like it’s nothing. He doesn’t know what this promise untethers inside you. Your knees wobble. It feels as though you have peeled back every layer of your hopes and fears and dreams and laid them bare before him. The weight of your heart seems to tear you apart with the words that you wish you could say. And for a time there is timelessness; endless stillness that holds the picture that is you two standing at the edge of the world stretching across the horizon when overhead, lightning in the sky turns the world white and summons the Destroyer of Worlds.

As you stare into the eyes of the Colossal Titan, stomach roiling with panic, you can’t help but notice, distantly, how human its eyes seem.

A/N: Today’s The Amazing Devil’s song I’m shoving down your throats: Not Yet / Love Run (Reprise)

***

Taglist: @arisu003, @brooki, @prttyangelbaby, @honeylmnade, @berriesandcrem

#aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x y/n #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #phill.swyaatl #swyaatl

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morgenstern16 · 5 months

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Fuck it, insane Fumiko theory time

You ever had an insane theory that when you first have it you're like "oh man this is actually crazy if it's true! it explains so much!" but then later you're like "no this is actually just stupid". Well today instead of focusing on my homework my brain decided to come up with a theory that everyone's favorite Public Safety Agent is actually Freckles-chan from all the way of the start of Part 2, disguising herself via the Skin Devil. This has been haunting me all day so I'm exorcising this thought right now so I can forget it.

Freckles-chan, as I'm calling her, has a weirdly minor but notable role in Part 2. She's introduced as one of Asa's bullies and as a target of Yuko's vengeance. (Speaking of Yuko, I miss her). Yuko kills the other bullies, but Freckles-chan survives her initial rampage.

However, she isn't so lucky with the resurrected Yuko, and it looks like Yuko will finish her off...

... except for an unlikely hero to step onto the scene.

Denji makes mincemeat of Yuko and attempts to dramatically reveal his secret identity to Freckles, only for Yoshida to warp him away (just before Yoru brains him with a Yuko Leg Sword).

That's about it for Freckles-chan, except for one weird thing. After Yuko and Asa's last meeting, there's a set of panels showing Asa, Yuko, and Denji lying down. Well, there's one other person shown: Freckles-chan.

Given that Fujimoto loves his foreshadowing, there's been a few theories as to why he decided to show an unnamed minor character in a line-up of very important characters. It could be that this is a plot thread he dropped later on or that Freckles is actually the host of Fami, like Asa is to Yoru, but my brain decided to connect her with a unresolved plot thread from Part 1: what happened to the last Aldo brother?

As a refresher, this guy was the last of a trio of American brothers who had made a contract with the Skin Devil, allowing them to take the appearance of other people. Unlike his brothers, however, this guy wasn't the worst human being in the world and was last seen trying to blend in with Santa Claus's minions (either that or they actually infected him, it's pretty ambiguous).

A lot of characters from the second half of part 1 are now showing up in Part 2, so how would that plot line show up again? Well, my brain said, clearly at some point Public Safety got a hold of him or a contract with the Skin Devil and had Freckles-chan make one with it. See, it's quite possible that Freckles is one of the few people around who've seen Denji's human form (yes Yoshida warped Denji before he could transform back, but it's possible she did see him and Public Safety, through their insane surveillance or w/e, found this out and conscripted her instead of just locking her up, having her impersonate Fumiko (either dead or on a covert mission) to keep an eye on Denji, perhaps in hopes that Denji would easy to collar around if an attractive woman keeps an eye on him, without sacrificing an actual agent. This, my brain said, would explain a number of weird things about her, like why she's so immature and calls Denji "Senpai" (she's actually a bit younger than him)

Or her weird and inconsistent behavior towards him (she's being fed lines to tell him but also confused as to how she feels)

And most infamously, her complete incompetence in a fight (she's a conscripted civilian teenager).

And with her running off, there would great potential to run into her former victim, Asa, who's now the host of the powered-up Yoru. I could easily imagine a terrified Freckles begging for her life in front of Yoru, and an amused Yoru letting her go in exchange for some kind of deal. It'd also be a way for Asayoru to find out that Denji is in fact Chainsaw Man. A neat little bow to wrap up a number of puzzling elements in Part 2 so far.

However, if you're obsessed with Part 2 as much as I am, you've probably spotted a few holes in this, particularly that this is rather convoluted for a CSM plot line. Also, she has to be a pretty good actress to pull off some of her lines and make them sound convincing, and she WAS competent enough to dodge Nayuta's chains at short range, which is a bit much for a random civilian teenager to pull off. It's also quite possible that Freckles will have a role to play, but not this one. I probably forgot some parts and flaws of the theory here and there but whatever I can just fill them in later.

#csm #chainsaw man #fumiko mifune #csm fumiko

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suleikashideaway · 4 months

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🎶✨️when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨️

Oohh fun! Thank you!!

Fun fact about me: I am in irl professional musician and music teacher! You'd think that would mean something special about my taste in music but, heh, I guess you can be the judge of that. In any case music is important to me <3

I also am the type of person to find a single album or artist and only listen to that specific thing for...several months to a year, so instead of listing 5 songs of my current obsession, I'll list one from each of my past 5 obsessions lmao

1- Okay, the current boy on my mind. Hozier is...out of this world. I cannot BELIEVE I only discovered this godlike human a few weeks ago. I'm not kidding when I say I cried when I found out he's coming here live in a few months and tickets are already sold out. This song is from his latest album and it is etched in my soul:

2- In my efforts to be the best music teacher I can be, I picked up the ukulele and along the way picked up Eddie Vedder and his unbelievable album called Ukulele Songs. I can't believe how much I undervalued this man. He is an iconic songwriter and I've grown to love his appreciate his voice and style. Every song on this album is a hit but I'll give you the one that'll make you swoon:

The rest are under the cut because I like music a lot lol

3- I went through a pretty intense Florence + The Machine kick last year. I had always loved them but I had never put in any concentrated listening until I (belatedly) discovered the album High As Hope. Again, amazing album from start to finish, but this song...oooh.

4- Apparently I'm a big fan of The Staves...my Spotify wrapped informed me I'm in the top .05% of listeners??? So it would only be appropriate if I put them on here. I love how they've evolved over time. This song is kind of like, my theme song probably. (Except the bit about snow lmao)

5- Arghhh only five songs?!? Alright I'll end on an uplifting song to start your day. (If the theme isn't apparent, I pretty much love really angsty songs. If it doesn't make me cry on first listen it's probably not my thing lmaoooo BUT I do like a good touch of optimism occasionally to get me pumped!) This song is from The Wailin' Jennys, yet another female trio (that's a theme, too), whose arrangements are just otherworldly. This song is their take on a Dolly Parton song (both versions are the best lol)

Honorable mentions: Brandi Carlile, Turnover, Incubus, Bon Iver, Joshua Radin, and Raffi lmao.

Oh, and anyone who wants to play, consider yourself tagged!!!

#music #me #ask me!

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sleeplessgreaser · 7 months

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The Music of Chapter 7

To begin with, I want to give full disclosure: I didn't know shit about vinyl records until like 2 days ago, and there was a lot I had to learn about records and stereos so I could be as accurate as possible. In this post I'll go over the music that Johnny and Dally buy at the record store in chapter 7 of my fic, "I Don't Think He's Ever Seen a Sunset".

Before I could start writing, I did a thorough search on the musical artists greasers listened to in the 50s and 60s. Of course, Elvis Presley was an obvious answer, but I wanted more than that. According to what I found, greasers' taste in music had a good variety; mostly depending on where they were located in the United States and what circles they ran in. An important note to remember is that greasers are just a "genre" of people, and their taste in music is decided on a communal as well as personal scale. So I tried to stick with a few artists whose names just kept popping up. Those artists were: Eddie Cochran, Johnny Burnette, and Chuck Berry.

The first song mentioned in chapter 7 is "The Train Kept A-Rollin'", specifically the cover done by Johnny Burnette and the Rock and Roll Trio in 1956. In the chapter, Johnny hears Dally mention Tiny Bradshaw to the store clerk. Tiny Bradshaw was the original artist of the song, however Johnny Burnette's version is a rockabilly rendition of it. A fun fact about Johnny Burnette's version is that it's believed to have been the first use of an intentionally distorted guitar in the rock music genre. (Of course, let's not forget that the use of an intentionally distorted guitar had already been present in blues music! Remember: Rockabilly was heavily inspired by black music, and we should always remember to give credit to the original creators, especially when those creators aren't well credited in the first place.)

I truly believe that "The Train Kept A-Rollin'" by Johnny Burnette would be one of Dally's favorite songs. It reminds me of him in so many ways, and I just think it fits his entire persona.

On the flip side of that single was "Honey Hush" and I won't lie to you, this song is very problematic. This song was also a rockabilly rendition of a previous blues song, this one being written by Big Joe Turner. The lyrics to this one are heavily sexist and even involve implications of domestic violence. I'll say this once, and then just put an asterisk next to any other songs that this applies to: I only included this song because my autist brain would never allow me to be untrue to these original pieces of history.

The next songs to be mentioned are from Elvis's second studio album, also from 1956. This album is absolutely beautiful and I love every song on it; excluding Old Shep, because that song is Depressing As Hell. I won't go through every song on this album, but I'll talk about the ones I mentioned in my fic.

"Rip It Up" is the first song on the A side of the record, and to me it is the epitome of a young adult's life in the 50s and 60s. This song, as well as "Paralyzed" and "So Glad You're Mine" just feel like Johnny's kind of music to me. Upbeat with a hint of dramatics, paired with romanticism as well as the idea of living a happy life despite having pretty blatant problems. (Also, "I'm gay every morning, and at night I'm still the same" just kills me every time I hear it.)

The second single the boys find is Eddie Cochran's "Summertime Blues" from 1958, which I feel is just an absolutely perfect song for The Outsiders as a whole. It's an example of a song that both greasers and socs could enjoy and find understanding in, though I think a greaser would definitely find more enjoyment in it than a soc would given that it's a rockabilly song about struggling with money issues. Now, in chapter 7 I remarked that the boys would most likely not enjoy the flipside of this single, "Love Again", but I need you to understand: I am in love with this song. The lyrics are very clearly aimed towards Cochran's female audience, which explains why the boys wouldn't like it, but (as a man) I have to say that the melody is just so nice.

After that they found another one of Eddie Cochran's singles, "Twenty Flight Rock" from 1957, and I tell a short story about Dally, Johnny, Steve, and Two-Bit going to see the movie "The Girl Can't Help It". I mention the actress known as Jayne Mansfield, who was apparently quite the sexual icon back then! It would make sense that Two-Bit would be obsessed with this platinum blonde woman, who was featured in Playboy magazines and starred in some very spicy movies. Also, here's a fun fact that I just learned while writing this: She's Mariska Hargitay's mom?? You know, as in the actress of Olivia Benson from Law & Order: SVU???? I'm absolutely stunned by this because I found this woman under very different circumstances, but Mariska Hargitay is my QUEEN.

Okay, sorry for that tangent, back to the music…

"Twenty Flight Rock" was first featured in the movie "The Girl Can't Help It" and was later released as a single a year later, with a flipside of "Cradle Baby". Once again, the B side song is problematic, but hey: *

Last but not least we have Chuck Berry's album Chuck Berry is on Top, released in 1959. Again, I won't talk about every song on this album, just the few I mentioned. "Sweet Little Rock and Roller" is a good greaser-esque song about, well, a sweet little rock and roller dame. Then there's "Roll Over Beethoven" which is about someone wanting to hear a certain song on the radio. And finally, "Johnny B. Goode". This is a classic song that everybody knows, and when I had the idea of the guys using it to poke fun at Johnny I just had to include it. Besides, let's be honest, with that guitar riff?? That's a greaser magnet! Disclaimer, though: Chuck Berry is actually a pretty shitty person apparently, so…

Now, as you might have noticed, all of the songs and albums I listed were released after 1955 and before 1960. I'll be honest, I didn't do this on purpose - but, I will say it sort of makes sense! Not every song is going to be a greaser hit, and I imagine when groups find songs they like they hold on to them for years. I also believe that, based on their upbringing, the gang is likely a little "behind" when it comes to music. From my own experiences growing up, I always managed to find songs well after they were released, but I'd fall in love with them nonetheless. Also, during this time, music from Britain had begun creeping into the US, and I don't think our All American Boys would enjoy that very much. True American rockabilly was starting to get drowned out by British rock and roll, and that would make it hard to find new music a greaser would proudly enjoy.

So, this has been my deep-dive on the music I included in chapter 7! My personal favorite songs are: The Train Kept A-Rollin' by Johnny Burnette (and the Rock and Roll Trio), and Love Again by Eddie Cochran. If you have any songs from this time period that you want to bring to light, please tell me about them!!

Finally: Here's the playlist, please enjoy :)

#i wrote this in a manic state #im posting this 2 seconds before i post the chapter #the outsiders 1983 #no sleep for greasers #sleepless writes #jally #elvis presley #johnny burnette #eddie cochran #chuck berry #50s music #60s music #music

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akai-anna · 8 months

Note

So I already asked this before, but here I am asking you to do it again cause I honestly really enjoy reading about how you view each of the relationships in decto. So if it's not too much to ask will you do a part 3 just rambling about other relationships in decto. Also I'm glad my last ask made you that happy, and don't worry take as long as you like there's no rush to make them.

Anon-san. Dear. Darling. You are truly a blessing, a pure source of joy, a beauty in this measly existence we call a life. I would have never thought you'd come back for more rambling. Just. Thank you. So much.

And I'm happy you enjoyed my previous ramblings, and I hope you will enjoy this one too.

Notes, as always:

as in the previous asks relating to the ship opinion bingo, i interpret relationships in the broadest possible sense

i check everything that makes sense to me, even if they seem contradictory; i view them applied to different situations/universes/possibilities

*rolls up sleeves* Ok, now buckle up.

I. Akai Shuuichi/Okiya Subaru - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan (and The Kudous)

The Silver Bullet Duo (and the Parents Partners In Crime)

They just... have such a fascinating dynamic.

Akai, first learning about this lil kiddo through investigating Vermouth (Cool Guy) and as they started interacting, treating this boy as an equal despite him (seemingly) being a child. The fact he is openly impressed by Conan/Shinichi ("You always amaze us, boy."); I cannot put into words how important it is to me that Akai respects this gremlin child. (ONE OF thE BESt INVEstigAtoRS IN JAPAN HE SAID!!!!) Shinichi Being all sus of the guy at first, only to find a great mind in him, an amazing scheming partner, someone he can trust to protect his friend. They are not only on the the same wavelength (not even being in the same place) but make a very effective as a team; the sheer compatibility.

But also their actual first meeting BEING: SHINICHI BASICALLY CALLING AKAI SHUUICHI A CLOWN. INCREDIBLE.

And also, Akai being one of the precious few who knows about this lil gremlins identity. It's so important to me; as someone who dearly wants and aches for Shinichi to share his identity with at least a few other people, I cherish all individuals who are aware of his true identity. Not to mention, that the identity reveal to Akai was one of the most hilarious things I have ever witnessed. (Shinichi literally outing himself because he is too comfortable, too at ease in his own home and around these people, and distracted by Ran and solving the mystery, he forgets to be cautious. THIS FCKIN CHILD I LOVE HIM.)

And Akai constantly hinting at his real identity gets me so bad too. They are so precious to me.

And then there is the whole Akai-Yukiko & Yuusaku dynamic too. He literally became part of this oddball of a family? (YUKIKO tAUGHt HIM to COOK I CANNOt???) FITTING IN WITH THEM SO EFFORTLESSLY. I LOVE THEM.

⊱✿⊰

II. Agasa Hiroshi - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan - Miyano Shiho/Haibara Ai (- Detective Boys Trio)

Found Family: "Sometimes a family is 1 middle-aged man, 2 fake and 3 real elementary students" as I like to say.

Not many scenes to share here (tho I will definitely collect them in my newest reread session) because I don't have the energy to look for them. BUT.

Agasa Hiroshi is a Good Man. He doesn't have to invent all that stuff for Shinichi BUT HE DOES. He doesn't have to help this lil gremlin out BUT HE STILL DOES. All the times he just drove him around, all the times he allowed himself to be used (with no advance notice which he keeps ASKING SHINICHI FOR, TO JUST LET HIM KNOW) as a way to solve a crime; EVERYTHING HE DOES, DESPITE KNOWING HOW DANGEROUS IT IS. The way he only helped Yukiko and Yuusaku with the mad plan (because IT IS MAD; ODDBALLS) of "kidnapping Edogawa Conan" because he thought it would help drive the point home, of how dangerous this whole business is. Agasa Hiroshi just wants what might be best and safest for Shinichi. Just being there for him, and if he cannot he lets others, who can, know (Yuusaku and Yukiko in the above scene, Heiji in desperate revival, and so on). He cares.

On the other side, Shinichi might seem like, he doesn't appreciate Prof Agasa much at first glance (his constant comments about Agasa creating junk, says the one who uses his inventions, HYPOCRITE), but god, he goes BALLISTIC WHEN IT COUNTS. (Kidnapping case, just to mention one off the top of my head.) Shinichi literally grew up with this weird adult figure around, he is like family to him, and he cares. Tons. He trusts Agasa Hiroshi, literally, with his life.

Moving on: another point of Prof being a really good man. The way he is with the kids. He literally goes out of his way, to take them out to places, spend time with them. Be it camping, or eating out, or invent stuff for them, cooking for them, or just getting a cake to eat together... He got attached to these kids (just like Shinichi himself) as they spent more and more time together, and cares a great deal about them. And the kids grew fond of him too, despite all the little comments and teasing. (Or as I see it: he is an adult figure to them that they are comfortable around, and are not afraid to say what they think.)

As for Ai. Exhibit C of Agasa Hiroshi being a really good, kind-hearted person.

Agasa Hiroshi picked up a girl that brings even more danger with her mere presence, and at this point she is not trustworthy. Who knows what she might do? But he took her in anyways. (Without talking to Shinichi too, which led to some Emotions and Yelling.) And as time went on, this girl, who constantly lives in fear of being discovered (fearing so much, that she even tries to let herself die, and considers leaving everyone behind to protect them), slowly crawls out of her shell, to just be a person. Ai and Agasa come to care about each other too, so deeply; there is no blood-relation between them, yet there is such a strong familial bond between the two. (People mistaking them as father and daughter!)

They are a weird lil family unit, your honour, and I care about them so. So. SO MUCH.

⊱✿⊰

III. Mouri Kogorou - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan - Mouri Ran

The Mouri Family Unit

I just love them. God. I do.

I love how Shinichi got integrated into Kogorou and Ran's everyday life (be it cleaning, or just checking he's there and didn't run off again LOL). I love the rare moments of Kogorou actually being parental, be it to the lil gremlin or Ran. (HE LOVES BOTH OF THEM YOUR HONOUR!!!

I adore the fact that they watch stuff together, and discuss it, I find it really sweet (and funny). Also the fact that they eat together. Eating together with loved ones is a very important point in my own life, and it's a really... "intimate" is not quite the word I'm looking for but... I guess a bonding thing. Something meaningful. And these 3 definitely do it most days. The way they are so comfortable around each other, and everyone has their own lil space at the table. I really adore the thought of Shinichi getting so used to the lil routines and bustle of the Mouri Household, that after he turns back, he'll miss it. Especially, how he was living alone for years before the Conanification, without his parents; the Mouris are such a strong contrast against that. (Post-Conan Shinichi, that moves back to the Kudou House, and finds it too big and quiet and lonely, just going over to Agasa's and the Mouris' all the time to be around his loved ones. Him spending most of his time at their places, so much, his stuff is slowly moved into both places. And No One says a thing about it, it just happens, and they all let it happen. Please. I'm WEAK.)

I also love to see them in various combinations: Ran-Shinichi teaming up against Occhan, but also Ran and Kogorou constantly being "WHERE IS THE CHILD" in their own ways, and Shinichi and Kogorou team up too (like the time they tailed Ran, or when Ran told them Araide will be in the play too, HAHA). Each is so very delightful for their own reasons.

Thank you so much for asking me (AGAIN!!!!) to talk about relationships, it means a lot tome, and I truly hope you enjoyed reading these! May you have a blessed day, darling.

#detective conan #la junk talks #manga #detco posting #asks #anon #i'll tell you a secret dear anon-san #i originally planned to do 6 of these but i have low battery energy in me #also i tend to spend way too much time looking up scenes... i went overboard with akai oh my god #so after that one i also tried to limit myself to just... things off the top of my head #so as not to spend TOO long on things #but gosh this is way too fun really #i'm just glad you enjoy these bc i never thought anyone would #also i have a tendency to go towards familial and platonic relationships. what a surprise lmao #(no not really.)#happy screaming and word vomit time to me #happy reading to you anon-san #also this took me longer than expected but i got way too busy and at times distracted #i really hope you won't miss this post gosh

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totaltotty · 1 year

Text

Lost in you

Kratos x Reader

Trigger warnings- kissing, mentions of death

Part 2 of ?

As time passed, and the trio chatted more, there was a knock at the door. Kratos had stood up and practically ran to the door and opened it. There stood Atreus, two feet taller and only a head under his father. His red hair exceeded past his shoulders, braided itch golden beads slipped over. It almost seemed similar to Freya’s hair but was shaven on the sides. Kratos gave the young man a tight hug “My son! You’ve finally returned.”

“Dad! It’s so nice to be back home. I’ve missed you so much!” He said, returning the hug. As the two broke apart, he looked to Freya and (Y/N). “Freya! How have you been?”

“Ive been well, Atreus. And this is (Y/N), one of my Valkyries.”

She smiled and waved softly. “Its is so nice to finally meet you, Atreus.” She said, shaking his hand softly.

“Likewise, (Y/N).” He replied, giving her hand a slight kiss.

“Now sit, sit, and tell us about your travels!” Freya instructed, pulling out a chair for him. While they chatted, (Y/N) zoned out, once again eying the mug. ‘Where is the mother’ she thought, her previous theory being wrong. She felt guilty, being in this woman’s potential home, thinking about her potential husband inappropriately. ‘What if she isn’t alive?’ She thought. She felt uncomfortable thinking about this and once again joined the conversation.

“And that’s when I grabbed Angrboda and yanked her away, just as the skeletons fell from the trap!” Atreus said with a chuckle. Freya chuckled and Kratos kept his stony, demeanor but seemed happy.

“I have a gift for you, Atreus.” Freya said, giving him the beautifully wrapped box. Atreus opened the box and showed an assortment of arrowheads, each carved with unique runes.

“Woah, Freya! Thank you! I can’t wait to use these!” He said and gave her a hug. Kratos then handed Atreus a crudely wrapped box, you could tell the man tried but didn’t do that well. Atreus opened the box and pulled out a tattered yellow cloak. It was covered in red markings, some of which matched the door of the cabin.

Tears formed in Atreus’ eyes as he realized what the cloak was. “Dad… was this mom’s?” He asked hugging the cloak.

“Yes… I found it underneath the house last spring and wanted you to have it.” The two hugged and sat back down after he put the cloak on. It fit him perfectly as if the coat was made specifically for him.

“Are you hungry, Atreus? You’ve had such a long journey.” Freya asked, standing up.

Freya and (Y/N) walked outside to the sled to grab everything. After everything is unpacked, (Y/N) noticed that the jar Freya had packed had gone missing from the sled and excused herself to go find it. Retracing their steps, she found it not too far from Freya’s cabin. A long trek for such a small item, but she felt as if it was important. On her trip back to the party, she found herself thinking about Kratos again. Her heart pounded out of her chest as she imagined his hands on her waist, kissing him, and even being pinned under him. Her body began to ache again and she took a seat to try and calm down. Her imagination continued to run wild as a figure popped up behind her. The figure put their hand on (Y/N) and she practically jumped out of her skin. She fell to the ground, the jar rolling far across the ground, into a puddle. As she turned to see who it was, her face turned red. It was Kratos.

“I did not mean to alarm you, (Y/N).” He said, helping her up. (Y/N) tried her best to keep her composure, but it was so difficult to be normal around this giant man. She had been around large men before, but none of them made her feel the way he did. “You had been gone for quite some time. Freya is worried about you. She says you’re acting off.”

(Y/N) grew pale. “Yes… I’m okay. I am sorry to alarm her. Perhaps I should return home and rest. I am sorry I caused you to leave your son.” She said, guilt rising in her stomach.

“It is fine, (Y/N).” He said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I understand. Get your rest. I will let the others know. It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too, Kratos. I hope you enjoy your time with your son, “ She says, parting ways with the spartan, and makes her way back to Asgard. Upon reaching her, (Y/N) plops her face onto her pillow. She felt so stupid. “I never should have gone to Midgard.’ She says, her voice muffled by the pillow. As she dozed off, she remembered the jar.

Quite some time had passed since the arrival of Atreus and she had seen him occasionally in Asgard. He often helped the rebuilding process or just did some shopping for his father. He even brought Angrboda around when they had questions for Freya. (Y/N) had not seen Kratos though, but often considered making a trip to find the jar to bring to him. She had since spoken to Freya and learned that the jar was a gift for him, olives from his home in Greece. Upon learning the emotional value of the jar, (Y/N) felt even worse and vowed her next day off would be used to find that jar. Yet another week had passed before (Y/N) got a day off from training. She had started her day by meeting Freya for breakfast in the tavern.

“Do you have any plans for your day off, (Y/N)?” Freya asked in between sips of tea.

“I do actually. I plan to travel to Midgard to find that jar. You made it seem very sentimental and i feel just awful about losing it” she replied, hiding her ulterior motive of wanting to see Kratos again. It was almost impossible for her to keep him out of her mind. Freya and (Y/N) continued to chat as they finished their tea. “ can you tell me anything about Kratos? He’s such a mystery to me and i am so curious.” Freya looked to her and smiled so slightly. (Y/N) took this as freya recognizing her crush on the man.

“As you could likely tell, he is not from any of the nine realms. He is from another world with other Gods. Greece is what he calls it, I believe. I do not know too much, about his past other than that. But from his time here, he was married to a giant, Faye, and sired a son, whom you met a few weeks ago. And when Faye passed, Kratos and Atreus spread her ashes in Jotenheim.”

(Y/N) contemplated the new information, thinking about all of Kratos’ scars and how he must’ve received them. “Thank you, my lady. I hope you enjoy your day.” She then stood from the table and took her to leave. This time when (Y/N) entered Midgard, the land was happier, warmer, and livelier. Birds were chirping, the grass was greener than emeralds, and the air was warm like a hug. She then retraced her steps to where she last saw the jar, and behold, there it was, caked in mud and the burlap discolored from sun exposure. She then picked it up and slowly pulled off the fabric revealing the small green fruit. Out of sheer curiosity, (Y/N) opened the jar and took a whiff. The smell took (Y/N) somewhat aback, as it smelled like body odor and grass. She wanted to taste but was hesitant, so she closed the jar and went on her way.

It didn’t take long for (Y/N) to reach the cabin, she had noticed a new, small garden that was not there when she had first visited. There were cabbage, carrots, potatoes, and turnips growing. She then realized just how much time had passed since her last visit. Holding the jar in her hands, she knocks on the door and waits. After a few moments with no answer, she realized that he must not be home. (Y/N) placed the jar at the foot of the door and started her way back to Asgard. She kicked the dirt and thought about how dumb she was to not even consider that he might not be home. As the dust settled she decided that perhaps she could even try to find a Midgardian market and bring home some soaps or candles.

(Y/N) approached the town, small kiosks lined up and down the road. she smelled so many different aromas. The smells were intoxicating. There were booths with flowers and perfumes, a butcher with stews and assorted meats, and even a shoemaker. (Y/N) browsed the stalls and purchased herself some wolfsbane and goat's milk soap. She had even purchased a loaf of bread from two children that pulled at the hem of her skirt. After spending almost all of her money, she decided maybe it would be worth stopping at Kratos’ house once more. Upon her arrival, she saw Kratos in the garden. He was kneaded over, pulling at weeds. In a spur-of-the-moment idea, she placed down her basket and went to help. “Hello, Kratos.” She said “may I help? She kneeled across from him and began pulling at weeds as well.

Kratos looked a little surprised by (Y/N)’s appearance. Her long (your hair color)was playfully blowing in the breeze. Her features were soft and delicate, but still showed some wear from battle. “(Y?N), may i ask you a question?” He asked, recovering a nod in response. “Are you the one who left the jar at my door?” He saw a blush creep across her face.

“I was. Freya had intended to bring them for you, but I had lost them. And then I lost it again when you found me in the woods. I apologize that it took so long to get it back to you.” She didn’t look up from the garden once. In a moment of weakness, he had an urge to hold her hand. For a moment, he felt guilty for feeling this way. Faye had been gone for 4, almost 5 years, now. But he had mourned over his first wife even longe and done worse to avenge her death. But he had been alone for so long, and something about this feeling just felt right to the Spartan.

“Olives are my favorite. It has been a very long time since I last had them. Thank you, (Y/N)” they continued to work in silence as the garden bed was cleaned up. The sun shone brightly on the two as they finished up. It was a beautiful day. It wasn’t too hot or cold, and the sun, although bright seemed that it wouldn’t burn if you were exposed for too long. As the two collected the discarded greens for disposal, their hands touched ever so slightly. Kratos let his hand linger on hers, soaking in the touch of another being. (Y/N) looked at him, her body temperature rising and her face flushed with red.

“I…..” (Y/N) began to speak, but the words could not escape her lips. Her body craved his touch. It was something she had thought about consistently thought the weeks, but now that it was happening, she was frozen.

A wave of urge overcame Kratos as he grabbed her hand and pulled her in. Their faces were centimeters apart, yet nothing happened. The tension between the two could cut with a knife. Kratos let go of her hand and apologized. “I am so sorry, (Y/N). I do not know what came over me.”

(Y/N) was disappointed that they were so close to kissing but didn’t. She thought that she was so stupid that she didn’t just kiss him. Between the guilt and the lust, she couldnt decide what she wanted to do. She was so scared that if she kissed him, he would reject her.In the next moment, she swallowed her pride, took a deep breath and kissed the man. His lips were unexpectedly soft, which was nice. His beard poked at her face and as she pulled away, Kratos placed an arm around her waist and pulled her in for another kiss. The world seemed to stop for the two of them to enjoy this moment together. (Y/N) placed her hands on the sides of his face, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. She couldnt tell what was going to happen next, but knew that in this moment, she could die happy.

End Part 2

#god of war #god of war ragnorok #kratos x reader #freya goddess #freya gow #gow ragnarok #atreus #x reader #god of war x reader

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love-is-a-pearl · 9 months

Text

Miyamoto's legacy

Word count: ~2k Ao3 mirror: Miyamoto's legacy Warnings: Implied character death Pairings: none Referenced in this fic. #1 . #2

“Look at this!” Go said, holding a book with a red cover in front of Ash.

“The thing you wanted me to see was…. A book…?” He knew his friend liked reading and science and all that but…

“No, what’s inside of it is what’s important!” Goh’s eyes shone as he spoke.

“Words…?”

“No! The recordings of my research!” Goh flipped through the book. He had just recently been traveling to a distant region –which Ash forgot the name for– where it was said to be Mew’s birthplace. “I found so many interesting things but more importantly, a tape! It was beaten up, buried in the snow, but Ren said he may find a way to restore the contents of it!” Goh pushed the book in Ash’s face, words scattered everywhere, arrows and doodles that only Goh could decypher. He sure was a smart guy but gosh, was his organization lackluster. “I called you because he is about to finish the restoration!”

“Oh, cool!” Ash avoided looking at the words that made his head hurt from Goh’s journal and instead choose to look at his friend. “What do you think is recorded there?”

“No clue!” He closed the book. “But I know it will be something good. I feel it.”

As they finished their talk, Ren entered the room, eager to announce that he had indeed just finished restoring the contents of the old tape.

“Maybe some parts will be cut off, but I managed to save most of it. Good thing the tape hadn’t unreeled with the time. It seems old.” He guided the boys to his desk, where his computer showed an audio data of sorts.

“That’s fine. Any information about Mew is good enough.” Goh said as Ren sat down on his chair as both boys leaned expectantly at the screen while he hovered the play button.

As Ren was about to press play, an alarmed group of employees entered the room screaming, making the group turn their full attention to them.

“It’s horrible! The Pokemon at the park are being stolen!” One of them said, tense with the news he had just given.

“They came in a balloon and broke the dome!” The other cried, holding her head in shock.

“They are using a weird machine to suck in the pokemon into it!“ The shorter of the three screamed.

“Team Rocket!” Ash and Goh said in unison.

“We tried what we could to stop them, but it’s impossible! The machine is too powerful!” The short one said again, shocked by the villainous machine’s power.

“We’ll take care of it!” Ash said as he and Goh ran out of the room. Ren followed after them.

“You three stay here and be careful!” He said as he too left the office to help the boys in the fight.

The three ran as fast as they could to the park area, worried for the pokemon’s safety, thinking how they would deal with Team Rocket’s new machine without destroying more of the park, worrying about how many pokemon they had already taken. And when they arrived, they found... nothing?

Ren, Goh and Ash looked at the Park as the pokemon went about as they normally did, playing, eating, resting and training. The dome was completely intact and nothing hinted that Team Rocket had been around.

“I don’t get it, where’s Team Rocket?” Ash asked in confusion.

“Why would those new employees lie about something like that?” Goh added to the wondering.

“AH!” Ren shouted, remembering something very important. “We don’t have new employees!”

The kids didn’t understand, what he meant by that? They just saw three employees dressed in uniforms that told them about–

“TEAM ROCKET!”

They run back to the office, just realizing they left the computer with the very important recording about Mew whereabouts alone with a villainous trio! They arrive at Ren’s desk only to find it completely empty, they took it. They took–

“MY COMPUTER!?”

---

“Did we really needed to steal everything? Couldn’t we just copy the audio file into the Rotom Phone?” James asked as Meowth is connecting the CPU to the energy outlet of the cabin they were using as a hideout in the moment.

“Do what with the what?” Jessie asked. She didn’t understand how they could take something from that big machine and put on something as small as the Rotom Phone. Then again, she didn’t understand how a Rotom was put there in the first place.

“This way we don’t need to find another keyboard, mouse or monitor. Why make things harder for us when they had everything we needed?” Meowth finished messing with the wires and tapped the power button in the computer and climbed on Wobbuffet to be able to look at the monitor on the desk.

The quartet all stared at the screen. It made a pretty sound and the desktop screen lit up. Meowth started opening all the folders that were visible on desktop, trying to find where even the recording could be. They passed by lots, lots of photos of François, the Magnemite; some downloads of their radio show –aww, we have a fan–; information about Goh’s pokemon; a shopping list that included lots of antiques and finally! The file they were looking for! Conveniently titled ‘Misterious recording about Mew that Go found’. Meowth clicked the file, opening an audio player program and without waiting, pressed play.

“Hi everyone! I'm Miyamoto! This is the peak of the highest mountain in this–”

The audio was corrupted, like Ren said some parts would be .

“–ountain range. Now please look to your right. It's right before dawn, and is freezing cold. It should be sum– but the mountains offer only blizzards. But it's all right. I, Miyam–– will give my best!”

The woman in the recording sighs before speaking in a whisper.

“I wonder how many years it's been since then though...”

The recording is silent for a few seconds after that, only the sound of the wind howling and the occasional glitch caused by the restoration being heard.

“I've become separated from the other Team Rocket members.”

Team Rocket? The woman in the recording is a member of Team Rocket? Miyamoto.. from Team Rocket. Couldn’t be…

“The only pers– –ccompanying me is the picture of my daugh–“

The door from the cabin was kicked open. The twerps had found them!

Goh called out his Cinderace while Ash commanded Pikachu to attack. James pulled out a pokeball and told Jessie to get ready. She didn’t hear. She was paying attention to the recording that still kept going.

“–ter whom I left behind as a small child.”

It is her. That’s…

She couldn’t think as Pikachu’s thunderbolt made direct contact with her and her peers. They all fell on the ground, the effects of static taking place. She hears crying coming from the recording.

“Why didn’t you call a pokemon?” James asked as he twitched in the ground next to her.

“I’m sorry, I was..” She stared as the other twerp, the one that is not Ash, moved to the computer. He was going to stop the audio. “Please don’t!”

Goh didn’t press the button and both kids looked at her. The recording goes on.

“But even if I'm like this, I'm going to wait.”

“Let me hear the rest.” She slowly gets back up, the effect of static still taking place.

“I'm going to keep on waiting.”

“What, so you can hear where Mew is located at? No way!” Goh moves to press the mouse button.

“PLEASE NO!” Jessie cries. Ash had never seen her beg for something in all the years he has known Team Rocket. “I … I think that’s my mother…”

“Yes, I'm waiting for –“

“You really expect us to believe that?” Goh asks, embarrassed that he even believed the first time when they were disguised. When he is decided on stopping this mess, Ash put a hand over his, stopping him from doing so. “What?”

“Let it play.”

“Maybe I can see – if I wait here at th–––“

“You believe her?” Goh asks. Of course Ash would. He always gives them the benefit of doubt, but c’mon. It’s Mew they’re talking about!

“I believed such a legend.”

“If they try anything we stop them” He answered, looking at Jessie, who moved closer to the desk, as if looking at the screen would make the audio clearer. “But I don’t think she is lying.” Goh lets go of the mouse and Ash of his hand, he does admit she looks almost… vulnerable.

“A phantom Pokémon will definitely make money. I'm going to make –ney, I promise you that!”

“Jess?” James and Meowth move closer to her now that the effect of static is finally wearing off. Her focus is still completely on the image of the audio waves and how they move when Miyamoto speaks.

“Huh? The blizzard.. it stopped... Oh... it's sunrise... The sun is rising!”

Both the boys and their starters sit at the ground, near the quartet of thieves and start to pay attention to the recordings as well.

“The – mountain is gleaming silver. It's just like a mountain of coins! Now, that feels good!”

A chime is heard.

“–That's...”

A pokemon’s cry is heard from the computer. Goh’s ears perk up at the sound. He would recognize it anywhere.

“You're...you're Mew!”

Goh gets up, excited that that’s indeed Mew! He knew that the tape had good stuff in it. He is about to talk and gush and… And stop that audio! Team Rocket can’t know more than that!

“My, you look sooo gentle. So you're Mew. Oh, hey look...look at thi– icture.”

Goh stops when he sees Jessie slightly shaking.

“This is my daughter, her name is Jessie. Isn't she cute?”

She feels her breath trapped in a hiccup. But she doesn’t cry. Mew does.

“Yeah...oh hey –ill you let me capture you? Please? Nursery school, kindergar– child care cost money.”

Jessie can hear her teammates starting to tear up. But she pays attention to the screen still, how the images move as the sound of the blowing wind are heard again.

“Huh? Where are you going? –ou're leaving? Hey you! Wait up. –won't let you do that. Once I hear talk of profits, I'm not going let this chance go!”

As the sound of the blizzard picks up, James places a hand on his mouth, trying to muffle his crying. He can’t help but feel bad for Jessie. Even if she doesn’t show it right now, he knows this must hurt.

“Huh? Where are you going?”

A heavy crunchy sound can be heard. And It’s coming closer. Is that an avalanche?

“What? This ––ad! What? Am I going to fall? After all–”

The sound of snow overcomes Miyamoto’s scream. Mew cries one last time before the recording ends.

The room is silent saved for James and Meowth quiet crying. No one dares to speak for a while. Jessie breaths over the knot in her throat.

“Thank you for letting me listen to it.” She doesn’t look at the boys.

“I’m… I’m sorry for not believing you...” Goh feels so guilty now. “And.. for your..” He can’t say it.

“It’s fine. I don’t remember much about her anyway.” Jessie answers, understanding what the young boy was struggling to say.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” Ash reply made everyone look at him. Even Jessie who was avoiding eye contact with everyone. “I, uh..” He was so nervous with everyone staring at him like that. What did he say that was so weird?

“It’s true.” Meowth saved him of explaining more. “I never had a family. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want one.”

“Pika-pika pikachu-pika pikachu.”

“Exactly.” Meowth agreed.

“What did he say?” Goh asked.

“That even if you’ve chosen to part ways with someone, you are still allowed to miss them.”

“It seems all of us have some family problems.” James said mid tears. He couldn’t stop them from coming.

“I guess… I do miss her.” Jessie finally admitted. “Even if I don’t remember much about how she was. How she looked…” She stared back at the screen and smiled. “At least now I will remember how she sounds.”

#pokeani #anipoke #pokemon fanfiction #anipoke fanfic #miyamoto musashi #TRio #team rocket #team rocket trio #project mew #miyamoto pokemon #pokemon future #ive wanted this ever since goh's goal was just revealed man #also this is my first written work in EONS be nice

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lost-generation-au · 23 days

Note

ok, just warning you tho, It's a lot. Both in length, and content.

Gen 1

Only RGB trio alive

Lives in the mall

Someone else is watching, they are calling themself “Bishop” which in name form mean ‘Overseer’

No one else is at the mall (As of right now)

Bishop: Any and all pronouns, is nice but maybe it’s an act?

Ranboo sees the anons as people.

Found a control panel that plays parts of the social experiments, so that way fun/s (Also, Ranboo saw Charlie as the slime/blood demon for a second)

Theory: The anons are ghosts and because Ranboo was dead for a while they can see us.

Gen 2

Ignore the Theory it’s not important THEY ARE IN A TIME LOOP (And so are we I guess)

Bishop is a bitch and is trying to blame us! (Bishop good now don’t worry)

Ranboo can’t speak

Some of the others might be alive now (Nope)

List of people I want to stab if I get a body: The founder, Hetch, whoever is the person talking in red, Bishop’s mom (But I won’t because Bishop says no).

Ranboo has figured it out! They all now know that they are in a time loop.

We can’t say Bishop’s name, but that won’t stop me from trying to hint at it >:)

I think they are still in the show, it is the only way to explain how they can get stuff and money for stuff.

Can’t say any more things to them. Hide stuff better and do more hints.

Bishop is un-mind controlled now, They are good.

I accidentally revealed that to the founder, but we are going to fix that……hopefully….

Got Sneeg to help look for Checkers (What we are calling bishop now) so hopefully we find them.

Checkers looks like security to everyone but us (Sometimes) and Ranboo.

Got it fix we good

Gen 3

We are not good, the looped rest. if this happens again I’m going into my villain arc :D

No filter this time, Yippie

Checkers says that we should stay away from Ranboo this time, at least for now

(OOC:ask Bishop about their past at some point, Maple seems to want to rant about that :D)

Ranboo got mind control by a mask

Hetch caught on quickly, he is not mind control but my just good old fashioned gaslighting gatekeep girl bossing that’s happening, we’ll figure it out. (what was I even trying to say here? How much sleep did I get? How late did I write this?)

Gen 4

Going to be worse this time, be extra careful.

Back to talking in hints and riddles, yippie/s

Don’t know if anything changed

New(?) person, don’t know their name but they are a bitch

Checkers is missing

Ranboo got out of the box by themself and they are hurt, a lot……I really hope they remember…..(They don’t remember us D:)

Red text (The new person) is an AI,

Ranboo can’t see or feel us anymore :( I want to hug them so bad……(Head pat them, they don’t like hugs anymore)

Ranboo doesn’t want to leave this time

THERE WERE RED EYE FOLLOWING RANBOO

The power is out

Everyone is split up (Fun :D/s)

Bishop is ok :D but I want to check if they are being controlled again as soon as I get the chance (Worried about Ranboo now, Bishop is fine (Bishop is NOT fine))

Ranboo found their notebook :D

Ranboo is mind-controlled D: by the earpiece

“Ranboo” wants to cut off all the cameras, AKA, send us back to the void :(

Bishop was masked and was being controlled (Fucking called it) and we met the founder and Hetch fucking stabbed Ranboo and-

Gen 5

Charlie and Sneeg are out of the mall

Charlie finds us in their backyard

Ranboo is still trapped at the mall (I figure the same with Bishop)

No one remembers still (wHy :( (Ranboo remembers))

Charlie and Sneeg are staying at Sneeg’s old house. (I don’t think that’s the truth it way too close to the mall)

Going to go save Ranboo and Bishop (And whoever else we make our friend) after Charlie gets Sneeg.

Never mind, Ranboo is at the house now. (Still need to safe Bishop)

They all reliving the last 3 years (So like, 2026?(We in the future))

Ranboo can feel us again :D (don’t give hugs just head pats)

Ranboo has an old friend, feels like this is important, like they will be trapped as a Showfall worker or something.

New mission, make Ranboo smile and let them be happy :D

Ranboo has been forced to watch gore for the past 3 years, so if we get a chance to hurt Hetch and the founder, make sure they are at least closing their eyes.

Who I think Ranboo's friend is: an oc, Aimsey (Because Ranboo’s friend goes by any pronouns and Aimsey does as well, I think(Not Aimsey)) CrumbToast because they go by any pronouns (I checked this time) and since they have not faced reveal it makes sense that its face is covered :D (Update:IT’S FUCKING CHECKERS :D)

Sneeg and Charlie are being mind controlled or something because they are saying some shit that they would not say. (If they are not being mind-controlled I’m going to slap them, or throw myself at them, one of the two.)

Charlie locked Ranboo in a room

We are in Ranboo’s dream now :D

Ranboo’s friend goes by any pronouns

The dream was an old memory of when Ranboo found the taps, we met Ranboo’s friend in that dream but their face was blacked out, and after Ranboo stopped playing along with the dream the friend was yelling at Ranboo to say their name until Ranboo woke up

Also apparently Ranboo lied to us, not mad, tho I do want to know what they lied about.

The door to the room is unlocked

Don’t know where Sneeg and Charlie are

There are flys and bugs outside the house and in the house

There is a dead crow in the backyard, I wonder how it died….probably from a baby zombie (I’m sorry I can’t stop myself :D(never mind it was a raven I’m stupid))

THERE IS A DEAD BODY-

Gen 6

It fucking reset again, Ranboo quickly found us and we are now figuring out what happened (Ranboo stills remembers don’t worry)

Snowfall workers hunted Ranboo around the mall, killed them, and then they would wake up the next day revived.

Wait this is the first looped where Charlie didn’t find us……bit weird but it’s ok :D

Ranboo has wires in their skin

One of the wires glows red, I think it when they lie that it glows…….I’ll feel so bad if I’m wrong :( (I was wrong fuck I’m giving them so many head parts to make up for it……and hugs if they are alright with it now(They are not, stick to head pats))

Gonna to test to see if we can still give them head pats. (We can lets go :D)

Therapy (Seriously Ranboo looks insane sometimes they need it, and I’m sure everyone else will need the same)

Went to go cause some chaos against Showfall, found something to break, Ranboo cut a wire and everything went dark for a moment but now we are with Bishop again (I thought I killed us for a moment, not going to lie)

Ranboo got killed again but they will be revived tomrower (I don’t know if it’s their time or our time)

I finally got a chance to show Bishop their fan art :D

We found a Secret tunnel :] and it leads to the revile room…..

Found Ranboo, they are currently dead so we have to wait or find a 100% safe way to speed it up.

We reviled Ranboo but some of their memories are missing (Like all the time loop ones) so we are now going to fix that :D

BISHOP IS RANBOO FRIEND!!!! :D

Ranboo still blames themself so we are going to fix it.

Talking to Checkers now while Ranboo relaxes (I swear if someone touches them while we are not there I’m haunting someone) and we going to see what happened during their past :D

Little clues from other gens that I believed hinted at Ranboo’s and Bishops’ friendship: How Ranboo was drawn to the Bishop chess piece,

HETCH IS BISHOP’S UNCLE!!!!

Checkers doesn’t have siblings.

We going make Showfall pay for their therapy >:D

Talked to the founder.

THE FOUNDER IS OUR PARENT????? (They created the anons)

Ranboo gonna leave while the Anons and Bishop kill the founder >:D

Gen 7

BISHOP IS TIED TO A CHAIR IN FRONT OF THE BOX!!! D:

There is a robot clone of Ranboo? Very weird

Bishop now knows that Hetch is their uncle.

Ranbot (Robot clone of Ranboo) is just a little guy, they are so fucking adorable, and we are going to get them out of here too :D (They were in fact, not just a little guy)

I FUCKED UP :D

Going to try to fill in the real Ranboo of this and hope they believe me.

This is not even talking about the socail experiment, fucking hell

- 🍄

#ooc D:#generation loss #generation loss au #genloss #genloss au #lgau #lost generation au #lgau ask #lgau gen 7

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neotriobrainrot-reborn · 8 months

Text

I kinda wanna talk a little about how Epithet Erased sort of helped me at least start my journey towards finding out what kind of writer I am

I think, or at least hope, that I'm slowly understanding myself as a writer and realizing what type I am.

I'm not a complete Gardener, or at least one that falls extremely onto a gardening writing method

When I used to write, I had no worries or issues with writing characters when I first started writing(well I did, but the characters were the LEAST worst thing about my old writing), but the plot fell apart after a few chapters when it came to anything I tried to write

[Example: When I tried to write "Everything's (not) okay", I set the chapter count as 20 and started writing. But two chapters in, I realized that I literally couldn't write 20 chapters on a story where I don't even have it structured.

#2: I tried again with AmphibiaErasedNeo, but then I realized I've written myself into a corner as early as the first chapter, because Trixie & Phoenica would have every reason to grill Molly the second they saw her again and the cat would be out of the bag in terms of her involvement with the music box to them a lot sonner than I'd like for the two. I underestimated just how impactful & important the scenario was that lead the Calamity Trios to Amphibia, and I met a massive wall when trying to bull rush scenes that were subtly affected by that.

Another smaller example is an TOH x Epithet Erased fic idea I had Scrapped that fell apart at "what would stop Phoenica from just leaving as soon as she met up with Luz again?"

Say to say, I kinda sucked at writing. Well, I still do kind of suck and have a lot to improve on, but I suck significantly less now than I did about a year ago, give or take.

And this isn't to say this was because of the gardener method, not even slightly. All of these flaws I found with my writing were a combination of my lack of foresight for how scenes affected other scenes & poor revisioning. The gardening method isn't bad. It's just not something that completely applies to me. The same can be said for the architect method. I can't just go into it without any foundation since that just leads to me barely doing anything, but if I go too far into outlining & try to plan every ounce of how everything will happen through each line in the story, I won't even get halfway before I lose the motivation to even write the thing.

Hides away my docs of unfinished stuff

All in all, I feel like I'm more of a hybrid(or in other terms, a plantser), but at the same time. I still don't know completely. I know I'm not a gardener or Architect, but I still got some distance to figure out what kind of Writer I am and what stuff fits me, but what's important is that I'm at least a little bit closer to figuring out myself not just in terms of writing, but getting a leap closer to becoming the best version of myself, even if I'm nowhere near there yet.

And I have Epithet Erased to thank for that

#epithet erased #fungireborn.post

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tolsunflowerboi · 2 years

Text

@madatobiweek2022 DAY 6 - Secret Relationship/Undercover/Rice Wine

“This is very important Tobirama, you can’t offend anyone at this gathering. If all goes well, this could help streamline the building and migration to the Village.” Hashirama ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the stands as he stared intensely at Tobirama. “Even Madara, Tobi. I know you don’t get along but I can't afford you making him angry. Just, don’t argue. We can deal with any details behind closed doors afterwards, but just agree with him while we’re there. You’re only there as Heir anyway, Madara is a Clan Head, so I expect you to treat him like one.”

Tobirama’s mouth tightened, listening to his brother list off his expectations. He felt like a child again, standing in front of Butsuma and being told all the ways he didn’t measure up. He knew, alright? He wasn’t a complete social incompetent, no matter what Hashirama, and in turn the Elders, believed.

He struggled to pick up social cues and couldn’t follow all of the ‘unwritten rules’ that peppered social interactions. What was the point in small talk? If they had a reason to meet and talk, why not just get straight to the point? Then there was the flattering and compliments that everyone exchanged but no one ever meant, so why even bother.

He hated making eye contact, finding it uncomfortable and awkward, something encouraged by the clan and ongoing conflict with the Uchiha. Right up until it became ‘disrespectful’ and ‘insulting’, then suddenly everyone wanted him to make eye contact all the time.

(Even when he did make eye contact, it was still wrong. He was either ‘glaring’ or looking ‘too long’. When was he meant to stop?)

He would much prefer to leave this kind of thing to his brother, he had a much better understanding of people than he did, and people liked him more as well.

“I understand Anija, I’ll try my best, I swear.”

His brother didn’t look any more reassured with his words, stress lines still prominent around his eyes.

He sighed, “just, just don’t embarrass us too much Tobi, not tonight,” before turning and walking away.

Hurt coiled in his stomach but he pushed it away. Hashirama only wanted the best for them, that’s all, Tobirama was just an obstacle to that. All he had to do was get through tonight, then they could leave the rest of the social parts to his brother.

Tobirama had been here for less than 2 hours and it was already going wrong. Oh the first bit went well, Hashirama was with him and people paid more attention to his brother than himself. All he had to do was stand slightly behind him and look appropriately interested and respectful. Easy. But then Hashirama had gone to talk with the Ino-Shika-Cho trio and Tobirama had abruptly found himself alone with no buffer against the other attendees.

After several disasters of conversation, that Tobirama had been forcibly dragged into despite his best attempts, he fled to an unoccupied corner of the room. To his delight, the unoccupied space was not a corner, but rather the entry to an obscure side room that was, blessedly, empty.

The Gods were smiling on him as he slipped inside, revealing a low table, seats and, most importantly, a case of books that looked completely unfamiliar. Tobirama felt himself smile. Finding new reading material was always a delight. Selecting a book, he settled himself down at the table. Part of him wished he’d grabbed himself a cup of tea, but he refused to brave the main room in order to find one.

Cracking open the cover, Tobirama lost himself in the book, only to jerk back as a shadow fell across him, obscuring the open page.

Blinking, Tobirama raised his head and found himself looking up at one of the very people he’d been trying to avoid in the first place; Uchiha Madara.

Madara raised a brow at him, looking pointedly at the books piled at his side, “So this is where you’ve been hiding. I had wondered when I didn’t see you following Hashirama around like a shadow.”

He seemed to be waiting for an answer, but Tobirama didn’t know what to say.

‘Yes i’m hiding, please don’t tell Hashirama’

‘I’m staying out the way because i know i’m not welcome’

‘I’ve already hit my tolerance for socialising and if i go back out there I will insult someone, this time on purpose’

Better to say nothing at all.

Stepping forward, the Uchiha hummed before seating himself opposite him, clinking a bottle as he set it on the table.

“Drink with me.”

Tobirama frowned. He didn’t like drinking, could never grow a taste for wine like others in the clan did, even Hashirama. He preferred to avoid it all together and was going to refuse now as well. Except. He’d promised Anija, didn’t he?

‘ just agree with him while we’re there ’ Just agree.

So he nodded to the older man, taking the filled cup and raising it to his mouth. His nose wrinkled at the taste, throat closing up in disgust before he forced himself to swallow. The taste lingered on his tongue, and Tobirama wished desperately for a glass of water or tea to get rid of it.

“Hhm, have another.”

His head whipped around, staring at the Uchiha.

“Ah, Uchiha-Sama, I don’t normally drink. I’ll have to refu-”

Madara rapped his knuckles on the table, pushing the refilled cup back over to him.

“Drink.”

‘ just agree with him while we’re there ’

So Tobirama drank. And drank. And drank.

Everytime time he drained his cup, Madara was there to refill it. At first he would put the cup on the table, only for the Uchiha to slide it back, full once more. So he started to keep hold of it, cradling it in his hands. But Madara simply moved around the table, leaning over him to pour more wine into it.

Tobirama lost count of how much wine they drank, but he was certain Madara served him more than he did himself. He remembered the fifth cup, when he started keeping hold of it and then… nothing.

He didn’t know how long they’d been there when he came to again. His head felt fuzzy and the room seemed to swim in front of his eyes.

“Tobirama” Someone was saying his name.

“Tobirama” A hand fell on his shoulder and he jolted, listing to the side and falling into something hard.

“Oof-Wow, you weren’t lying. You really don’t drink, do you” The voice was close, breath tickling his ear. It sounded familiar…

“‘Dara?” Tobirama slurred his name, tongue thick and unwieldy in his mouth. There was a huff of breath, his hair ruffling with the force of it as an arm wrapped around his waist, holding him upright.

“Oh, so now you start to slur, but not when you’re speaking in depth about efficient filing systems and taxation laws, of course.”

The words flowed over him, not really registering as he felt the chest under his ear rumble with the words, the sound nice and soothing. He turned his face, rubbing his cheek against the other’s chest as he hummed.

“Right, let’s get you out of here, come on Tobirama, up you get.”

The arm around his waist tightened, pulling him up as he swayed on his feet. He stumbled forward, knocking into the table and nearly falling over a book laying on the floor.

“Oh for god sake…” Abruptly his whole body tilted, feet swept out from beneath him as he was hauled up, face full of black hair. He felt the other move, relaxing in his arms as he rested his head against his shoulder. His eyes felt heavy, with every blink a struggle to open again. He shut his eyes again.

Waking up was a nightmare that Tobirama wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. His eyes were dry and filled with grit, while his mouth tasted like something died in it. The headache pounding in his skull was neither welcome nor wanted. All in all, he very much wanted to roll back over and go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, his dream shattered as his door was flung open, the loud-too-bright chakra telling him of Hashirama’s arrival.

“TOBI, TOBI WHAT DID YOU DO!”

The shout made his head throb, a large groan leaving his chest. Gods kill him.

“Anija, please” his voice was muffled as he begged from under the pillow, “not so loud.”

“Tobi, this is important! What did you say to Madara last night?” The question came out at a much more reasonable volume, so Tobirama deemed to lever himself out of bed to look at his brother.

“Madara? I don’t-I don’t remember talking to him Anija. He gave me a drink and then, I don't know, I think I fell asleep at some point?” The more he thought about it, the more anxious he got. He honestly didn’t remember anything after the first few cups of wine. Did he do something wrong? Had he offended the older Uchiha?

Hashirama burst out crying, flinging himself at the younger Senju and sobbing messily into his shoulder.

“You did so well, Tobira! He agreed with nearly everything and got the other clans to offer more help than we ever hoped for! He said you gave him convincing arguments for everything!”

Tobirama stared at the wall, letting his brother cling to him. He remembered none of that. Was that while he was drunk? Did he rant at Madara about village plans while he was drunk? And Madara let him?

He felt his brother pull back, wiping his face on his sleeve. He beamed at him, full of excitement.

“Madara wanted to talk to you today as well! Said he wanted to discuss ranking systems and how pay grades should affect their assignments!” Hashirama looked ecstatic as he spoke, fully on board with his brother and best friend getting along. Even if it was with bonding over village legislation.

Tobirama sighed, massaging his temples, “When did he want to see me, Anija?” If he had enough time, he could try and make himself at least somewhat presentable.

“Oh he’s already here Tobira. He’s waiting downstairs now!”

Tobirama stared at his brother’s earnest face, brain stalling as he tried to work through what he’d just heard.

Reaching over, Tobirama yanked his pillow back over, pressing it to his face to muffle his scream.

Just kill him now.

Standing in the kitchen, Madara heard the shouting from the bedroom he’d dumped the younger Senju in the night before. He grinned at the sound. No doubt Tobirama would be feeling the effects of the night before. He almost felt sorry.

Then again, the younger man was quite enthusiastic about explaining things in his inebriated state. Madara had learnt far more than he’d expected about the village planning. And he remembered far more than he expected, considering he’d been more than a bit distracted by Tobirama trying to sit in his lap while he talked.

He had really looked quite captivating while he had ranted, cheeks flushed with alcohol. Now he just needed to get Tobirama back in his lap, this time sober and fully conscious.

Challenge accepted.

#madatobiweek2022 #tobirama x madara #senju tobirama #Uchiha Madara #drinking #drunken rants #seducing someone with efficient filing systems

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