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thatbanditqueen · 11 months

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I Was The Best Husband

An Elvis Presley One-Shot

A response to the writing prompt "‘are you always this shy?"

Many thanks to my lovely compatriots @whositmcwhatsit @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis for talking me off the ledge every time and holding my hand and reminding me why I love Elvis and how fun this can be.

Summary: It is March 1972, a month after Priscilla officially told Elvis about her affair with Mike Stone and her decision to leave him and request a divorce. He is in LA, getting ready to go back on tour and his entourage have invited some women over to help cheer him up.

Warnings: Some mild soft core make-out stuff. I think my smut generator is broken. Please send help. Oh, I wrote this today and there are a lot of typos. And some of it or all of it may not make sense. I'd honestly skip it.

Word Count: 4.2K

I Was the Best Husband

Friday, March 31, 1972, 8:30 p.m.

La Fortuna Apartment Complex

Just off Pico Blvd in West Los Angeles, CA

Her first response had been a firm no when Caroline stuck her head around Maureen’s bedroom door and asked if she wanted to come to a party in the hills at Elvis Presley’s house.

“Please, please PLEASE, Mo, I need you there to make sure I don’t drink too much or do anything stupid. 'Sides, Joe told me to bring some friends.”

“Who’s Joe?”

Caroline walked into Maureen’s room and sat on her vanity stool, wiping the corners of her mouth.

“I met him at the Whiskey last summer, when I was in the cage. He’s works for Elvis, took me out to Palm Springs for Labor Day, ‘member?” Carolyn's long, golden hair glistened in the bedroom lamp light.

“Right, how many girls were there? Twenty? Didn’t you say the trip was a bust?”

“I go to sit on Elvis’ lap for a whole gospel song, and then he asked me and another girl to make out in front of him. That’s a story I’ll be telling my grandchildren one day. Don’t you want to be able to do that?”

Maureen shook her head. “Hmmm, I think I’d probably leave out the second part. I don’t know, Cari, I -”

“Ah ha! You’re thinking about it. Get dressed, we gotta pick up Teresa. You don’t want to miss your opportunity to meet Elvis!”

“Right, maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get to watch the two of you make out on his lap. I don’t know why you need me to come if Teresa is, she makes since, you' 're both waitresses at Bootlegger’s. I’m not sure this Joe was thinking of me when he told you to bring some friends.”

Maureen looked down, smoothing her tee over her small bust while Caroline jumped up and spritzed Maureen’s perfume over her wrists.

“You’re cute, you’re funny, and you have a car, so shake a tail feather and let’s go.”

**************************

Carolyn turned up the radio and “Maggie May” resounded through the car as Maureen guided her Volkswagen bug up the steep incline into the Hollywood Hills. The road twisted and got narrower as they went along and she had to lean forward to feel steady shifting the gears.

Maureen found herself staring at Teresa’s beautiful brown skin as it gleaming in the streetlights while they walked up to the front of the large, white Tudor-style house. Maureen felt like an ugly duckling about to wander into lake full of swans, and hastened her gait, jogging up to link her arm between the other two taller, dazzling women as she balanced herself on her wooden clogs.

Knocking a few times, the door was finally opened by a tall white guy whose name was either Dick, Rick or Nick, and the women made their way into the foyer and down the split level steps towards an large open living room where guests were milling around talking, dancing, drinking.

Carolyn leaned into whisper, “Joe says they’re trying to cheer Elvis up, his wife just asked for a divorce and moved out.”

Maureen only had a moment to reflect on this when Carolyn’s wrist was grabbed by a stout, short balding guy wearing black sunglasses inside at 10 p.m. at night. This, apparently, was Joe. He reminded Maureen of a a think, fat ground hog with no neck and a big, friendly expression that hid rows of sharp teeth. Joe smiled as he kissed Carolyn’s cheeks and checked out Teresa, then nodded politely at Maureen, as he took Carolyn in hand and led them to go meet “the boss.”

They could hear Elvis’ voice echoing through the air before they saw him as they walked out to the pool patio.

“Man, I don’t know how she could do this to me, I was the best husband a woman could ask for. Ain't no one in my family ever been divorced, 'cept my mean-ass, desertin' no good sonofabitch grandaddy. Unnatural for a woman to wanna break up a family like that. After everything I gave her, too. Provided everything a woman could ask for. And what thanks do I get? She steals my baby away and breaks up our fucking family .”

Elvis stood there at the side of the pool, his arms around two beautiful women as he spoke to a short young white guy, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, with long greasy dark hair and bushy eyebrows. Elvis paused his diatribe to kiss one of the woman’s cheeks and ask what her name was again, before his eyes met Joe’s and he made a half grin.

“Hey, EP, you remember Cari from Palm Springs, huh?”

Elvis let go of the women he was with and drew Carolyn into his side, kissing her cheek and saying of course he remembered her. He hummed a few bars of a gospel song, which made Carolyn giggle, and then asked her to introduce him to her friends as he took Teresa and then Maureen’s hands, kissing them one at a time. Maureen shivered when Elvis took her hand, his eyes narrowed as his mouth turned upward into a crooked grin and he winked at her. She forgot how to talk as his nose grazed the top of her hand and he squeezed it to his mouth for light, warm kiss.

“This here is Arty Shiskee, he’s workin’ on this picture we’re makin’ with MGM, been filming our tour rehearsals all day.”

The short, dark haired man smiled anxiously, and uncrossed his arms to shake their hands. Carolyn leaned into Elvis, and Joe took Maureen by the waist to “show you around, maybe get you a drink, babe?”

Maureen felt as Joe was moving her out to pasture with the other guests not selected for Elvis’ harem, so she tilting her head toward the bar inside and said thanks.

Waiting for three white wine spritzers, Maureen turned to see Arty.

“Hey, Art, is it?”

“Actually, it’s Marty. I don’t have the guts to correct him, he’s Elvis, ya know? I guess I’m a coward. Also, how can I give the guy a hard time? He’s wife just left him.”

“Yeah, he seems real broken up about, huh? How will he ever find another companion?”

Marty chuckled, and pulled his hair behind his ear as Maureen carried on, she always talked more when she felt nervous.

“I guess it’s good he feels comfortable talking about it.”

“Um, yeah, ‘comfortable,’ that’s one way to put it.”

Before Maureen could ask him what he meant, her drinks were ready, and she enlisted Marty’s help carrying them back to the others. This was not easy, Elvis and the girls had disappeared from the patio, and Marty diligently followed Maureen through the mansion until they spotted the back of his shag hairdo on a couch in a large den. Maureen handed her friends their drinks and settled onto the floor, leaning back against the side of a brown velour couch and resting her shoes on the fur rug that extended out from the coffee table. Carolyn seemed at home sitting atop Elvis’ lap, buffeted by two other women sitting on either side all listening attentively as Elvis spoke.

“I am telling ya what, man, I gave her everything a wife could ask for, she wanted a horse, I got her a horse. She wanted ranch we drove by in Mississippi, by god, I got her the damn ranch. And I bought everyone a truck for the ranch. She wanted a bigger house in Los Angle -lesss, why, I bought this huge goddamn house. Gave her unlimited budget to decorate this place to her heart’s desire. New car every time she blinked. Jewelry boxes filled with diamonds. A closet full of new designer clothes.”

Elvis rubbed Carolyns waist and extended his other arm around the redhead next to him, looking at one, then the other, as he asked. “Now, wouldn’t you like that, honey? Would that have made you happy?”

“Uh huh, daddy. That wouldda made me the happiest.”

Elvis kissed Carolyn’s cheek as she said this. “Right? Thank ya, baby. That’s cuz you’re sweet, normal, nice girl, ain’t got anti-freeze running through your veins.”

He kissed the redhead’s cheek too, and then her lips as she turned toward him and put her hands around his neck.

“I would have been so happy, Elvis, I wouldda let you know, twenty five hours a day, eight days a week.”

The loud smacks of their sloppy kisses echoed through the room, and Maureen suddenly felt very self conscious, as if she was watching something she ought not to. She didn’t go to these Hollywood people parties very often, although perhaps it wasn’t soo weird, she reasoned, for a handsome, wealthy, star like Elvis to make out with good looking women in his own house.

Surrounded by other good looking people.

Who were mostly 20-something females.

Maureen looked around and clocked at least another ten girls just in their area alone, with only three other men hanging out among the guests. Two after Marty waved a small goodbye and slipped out through the side door onto the patio.

Maureen returned her gaze to Elvis, who had paused his kisses with the sympathetic redhead in order to continue talking. Every few moments, Maureen thought she caught Elvis glance at her out of the corner of his eye, but she told herself it was nothing.

“Ya see, honey, now, that’s what I told her, I said any other woman would fuckin’ kill to be where you are, to have what you have, to have a husband like me. Uh huh, but not my wife. Nah, that bitch has a heart of stone. What thanks do I get for everything I’ve done? Come home to find all that swag I bought, gone, man, gone.”

He snapped his fingers. “She packed it all up, gave up on a ten year relationship, over ten years, and and left me for another man.” Elvis shook his head, his squeezing Carolyn’s knee.

A smile came over Elvis’ face as he looked from Carolyn to the redhead, and Maureen thought maybe he was going to try and get the two to make out. Instead, he asked them, “Hey, want to see something out of sight?”

As they nodded, he jumped up, and looked around, his eyes settling on Maureen as reached out his hand to draw her up from the floor.

“Check this out honey, Imma show you how a real man protects his family. ’Git up here, woman, I need ya.” Maureen stumbled up as Elvis pulled her to the middle of the room and positioned her arms out. “Alright, baby, now stand still and Do. Not. Move. Do you trust me?”

Maureen nodded hesitantly, her eyes wide with what could probably be best described as the opposite of trust. Elvis face lit up, and then he took a deep breath, his hands together in prayer as he centered them in front of his face and down to his chest. Then he proceeded to thrust his leg up, extending the knee forward in a swift karate kick out at her side.

Maureen froze in terror as Elvis grunted loudly and proceeded to demonstrate a rash of karate chops on either side of her face, followed by a few more high thrusting kicks, his black hair flounced in the air from his movements and “hiyas!” echoing around the room. He chuckled as he caught his breath, rubbing her shoulder.

“Whoa, hey there, you can breath darlin, it’s ok. I’m a black belt.”

He turned to the little crowd that had formed around the room as they clapped and he took a bow.

“See y’all? That’s how karate can be, if ya know what ya doin’ like I do. I can control my movements precisely and protect my family. I could kill a man with my bare hands if I wanted to.”

Then his face erupted into a grin as Maureen chuckled nervously.

“Course, I wouldn’t. A true master only uses deadly force as a last resort. Against those who mean him or his family harm.” Elvis growled, and Maureen quickly ducked under his arm, about to sit, or flee, an option she was seriously considering until she felt his grip on her wrist.

“You did great, darlin, I could tell you liked it, saw it in your eyes. Watch out, once it gets you, there's no going back,’” he murmured, and kissed her on her lips, his hands on the sides if her face. Then he held out her hand for her to take a bow before he released her.

“Didn’t she seem fearless? Give it up for Colleen, everyone, bravest little gal in here. Probably the craziest too. Could see it in her eyes.”

He winked as Maureen joined people standing at the edge of the room, before sneaking off to use the bathroom and grateful she hadn’t peed her pants during Elvis’ karate demonstration. It had been terrifying, exhilarating, and mesmerizing. The violence and intensity of Elvis might even have turned her on a bit, but this sensation was almost certainly overwhelmed by the mortal fear that he was going to kill or seriously injure her.

***************************

It was past one when Maureen made a concerted effort to find her friends and persuade them to go home. She had been enjoying the free drinks and picking at some fried chicken as she made small talk with other guests, avoiding the areas where she heard the loud refrain of the best husband in all of Memphis, Hollywood and the goddamn world. But now she would have to face him, and found Elvis in the living room where she made her way to the corner and scanned the area for Carolyn and Teresa. She was distracted by Elvis' direct glances at her every few minutes. Realizing her friends weren’t with him or in the room, Maureen turned to leave but was stopped by Joe's hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, boss man wants you to come join us," his arm snaked around her as he led her over to the few people still hanging out.

“Hey there, it’s my karate partner. Where’s the fire, honey? Come on, take a load off.”

Maureen’s eyes widened but she found herself stuttering and unable to talk in the glow of Elvis full attention.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, I have to find my friends, Carolyn and Teresa, I think they may have actually been on your lap, at one point.”

Elvis’ lips curled up, and he bit his bottom one as he muttered. “Oh yes, Careful Carolyn, mmhmmm, yeah, I think she and that purty Black girl went home with Jerry, huh Joe?"

The ground hog nodded.

Elvis winked, and then his eyebrows creased as he saw Maureen’s face fall. “Oh it’s ok, baby, did your friends leave you behind? It’s ok, I, uh, I think they was lookin’ for ya, actually, yeah, they said to tell you not ta worry.”

Elvis squeezed her hand and nodded to the others as he turned and guided Maureen away from the living through a hall.

“C’mon, I know something that will make ya feel better. It’s my cure all for when life gets me down.”

Elvis’ hand slipped around Maureen’s waist, and she let her head dip into his side, more from exhaustion than anything else. The feeling of Elvis tall, sturdy body as he held her to him and kissed the top of her head was comforting, she made the decision not to think about how he seemed to be instantly intimate with every woman he met. She definitely decided not to question whether this quality had been appreciated by his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Elvis pushed them into a large country style kitchen, with a wide, wooden island in the middle. Loosening his grip, Elvis went to the fridge while Maureen determined she would be more comfortable sitting down and settled on the nearest and therefore most logical option: the island’s yellow tiled counter. This is where she sat swinging her legs as Elvis returned with a gallon of vanilla ice cream and a bottle of chocolate syrup.

“Well, now, ya hardly said a word all night, sweetheart, are you always this shy?”

“Um, only with people I don’t know.” Maureen murmured, looking down and pulling the strap of her black jersey dress back up from her shoulder.

“You sayin’ you don’t know me?”

Maureen looked up into Elvis’s eyes, and her heart fluttered as he stepped closer. Now his long arms pushed over her lap to settled alongside her body on the counter as he moved between her legs. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and felt the movements of his chest acutely against her nipples as he leaned closer and hovered in front of her. Exhaling through her nose, she tried not to gasp as she tapped out her fingers nervously and looked down. A lone, nervous giggle escaped her mouth.

“Um, not really. Not who you really are.” Maureen whispered to her lap, which now included Elvis’ hands, rubbing her waist.

He lifted her chin, speaking softly as he looked into her eyes. “S’ok baby, I don’t bite. Much.”

Then Elvis chomped his teeth together loudly into Maureen's face and she jerked back with a giggling gasp.

Elvis laughed, straightening his yellow tinted sunglasses. “Well, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley. Nice ta meet ya, Colleen.”

“Maureen. It’s Maureen, though my friends all call me Mo.”

Elvis’ finger’s trailed up the side of Maureen’s outer thigh, and she swallowed as he widened her legs around him.

“Alright then, see, I didn’t really know who you were.” He murmured into her cheek. “Nice ta meet ya, Mo.”

Elvis seemed to recognize the effect he had on her, as her breath hitched in her throat and she found her self incapable of talking. He stepped back with a chuckle, and dragged the ice cream over the counter next to Maureen’s hip, pulling off the container top and flipping the chocolate syrup lid with his teeth and a dramatic exaggerated “humpf."

Maureen and guffawed watching Elvis poured the chocolate sauce directly into the ice cream container.

"What are you doing? No one else'll be able to eat that."

“Honey, do you see anyone else here? S’my house, now, dammit, and I’ll do what I want. Ain’t got no wife to nag at me. If I wanna eating ice cream outta the box, then I'll get it out of the box." He said, slurping a messy spoonful into his open mouth.

Elvis brought a second helping to Maureen’s lips. “Now, open wide, like a good lil gal.” He chuckled as she let him push the spoon into her mouth slowly, moaning in delight as she swallowed the sweet, cold, sugary goodness.

“MMhmmm. See, now, do I know how to make women happy or what? You wouldn’t have left me, would ya, Mo Mo?”

“No, but I'm pretty easy to win over. I'd forgive almost anything if a man feeds me ice cream.”

Maureen winked at him and wiped her mouth just in time for another spoon of chocolate swirled ice cream, which Elvis followed with a soft, grateful kiss. He threw the spoon down and leaned into her, his hands moving up her body until they were cupping the back of her head and his lips settled again over hers.

Slow, soft, tender movements turned needier as they rocked back and forth. Maureen’s hands stroked the top of Elvis' shoulders, pulling him in by the lapel as she opened her mouth to meet his tongue. Her wooden platforms hit against each other as she notched her legs around Elvis, gripping him to her, as close as as she could bring him. Elvis stepped back, panting as he wiped his mouth, his lips contorted in a dopey grin.

She could hear the front door slam as people left the party, but they weren't going back to that way when he drew her off the counter and left the ice cream melting where it sat. She could see it in his eyes, a hungry wolfish glare, and his arm pulled her the other way, away from the people, the music, and the main part of the house.

“C’mon, baby, let me give you the VIP tour.” Elvis announced as they walked through the other side of the kitchen to a narrow stair case.

“These are some stupid, expensive-ass refurbished stairs.”

He bounced into the second floor, and turned to draw Maureen into him once more, his hand at the back of her neck and her body thrummed with need as his fingers played with the scruff of her hair. Then he was pressing her to the wall, pressing all her thoughts and misgivings away with his lips, while his hands blindly felt their way over her hips.

Minutes passed by measured by the metronome of air popping softly between their lips. Elvis fingers began to migrate lower, tugging at the hem of her dress. He smiled at the arousal in Maureen’s wide, brown eyes, leading her through a door at the end of the hall.

“Oh loook, huh, I think,” he paused as he walked to turn on one solitary lamp on top of a dresser on. “I think we found, the, uh, bedroom.” He looked down, almost shy, as he grinned.

Maureen swished from side to side playfully, anxiously, hesitantly in place where she stood across the room from him. Suddenly self-conscious, her desire faltered as she thought about where she was and who she was with, and became profoundly insecure about her sexual prowess.

“MMhmmmm. There is a bed.” She murmured, her arm up behind her neck, twisting her long, brown hair aside. “And, it is a room. So I guess it fits the definition.”

Elvis eyes narrowed in recognition as he strode back to her and took her hand, his lips kissing the top lightly and his nose nuzzling into Maureen’s knuckles. “Hey baby, we don’t gotta do nothin’, ok? You’re the boss.”

Maureen felt a blistering heat grow between her legs, and she let out a breathy exhale as Elvis moved his lips up her arm, kissing his way to the nape of her neck.

“We aint’t gotta do nothin’ you don't wanna do, nothin' at all, ok honey? Don’t shake, sshhhh, s’ok.”

Maureen put her hands around Elvis’ neck, willing away her trembling nerves as the knot in her belly propelled her to be as close to him as possible. She felt ashamed of how much she wanted to do the opposite of nothing, right now, all at once as soon as possible.

“I, um, I’m not one for, I mean, I don’t usually do one night stands.”

He took her hand, and led her over to the bed and pulling her onto his lap. “There, we don’t have ta stand at all.”

Maureen exhaled with a chuckle as Elvis rubbed his hand up and down her thigh slowly, suddenly sheepish and uncertain. He let out a hesitant exhale. For some inexplicable reason, Elvis’ sudden nervousness made Maureen relax a little, and she lifted her fingers to caress his cheek before stranding to take off her dress.

He stopped her, and lifted her right foot to his lap, and then her left, chuckling at her cries as he throw her shoes across the room. Then he pulled her up in front of him, instructing her to lift her dress slowly. Very slowly.

Maureen’s breath escaped her nose in long gasps as she lifted her black dress, drawing it over her head, inch by inch, encouraged by the short gasps Elvis' throat made as his eyes locked into hers. He groaned loudly and bit his lip when she revealed the light, yellow flowered panties with a little yellow bow at the middle. Lifting her dress like a curtain, revealing her belly inch-by-inch, then her breasts, then her nipples, the feel of the fabric brushing over her skin was titillating. Naked, except for her panties, she moved her arms over her tummy and did an awkward little wiggle as she hurriedly sought out the warm of Elvis’ embrace.

His movements were slow and purposeful, trailing his over her as he removed her arms from her tummy and just soaked in the sight of her body, biting his lip and breathing. He met her eyes, and gather her body on top of his, planting kisses along her clavicle, each breath made Maureen’s pulse quicken and she ran her hands through Elvis’ soft hair. He laid her back on to the bed, on his knees between her legs as he slid her underwear off, watching as he revealed her wooly, warm labia, sucking in air as he shook his head with reverence and whispered a low goddamn, goddamn.

Maureen let out a breathy chuckle. “What? What is it?”

“Just beautiful, honey, I just like looking at it.”

“I’m, uh. I think I’ve probably done this less than you.” She let out another nervous chuckle, every cell in her body was telling her to shut up but when Maureen got nervous, she started talking more. “I don’t know how I’ll compare to Vegas showgirls or or even —”

Elvis put his finger her to her lips, then he calmly stood up and kicked off his shoes, hanging up his sports coat and printed dress shirt over a chair.

“S’ok, honey, don’t get all up in your head like that. Shhh, just remember to breath and uh, follow my lead.”

Elvis returned to hoover above Maureen and kissed her gently. He winked, and Maureen felt him tremble as he moved to unzipped his pants.

“I really was the best husband, ya know? I never expected anything from my wife. Ever. Knew it was my job to provide. And, uh, when it cimes to making love." He blushed. " I, uh, know, well, that its the man’s job to make it good. You’ll see.”

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #i was the best husband #banditqueenwrites

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commander-krios · 5 months

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The Worst Party In Seleota

Fandom: Andromeda Six Pairing: f!Traveler & Arlo Peg'asi Rating: Teen Summary: Sereia Peg'asi doesn't have many close relationships at the palace, but for one night, she and her brother Arlo decide to make the Solar Queen's night as bothersome as possible. Words: 2877 Additional Tags: Kitalphin Traveler, Siblings, Banter, Royal Functions, Dysfunctional Family, Pranks, Palace Life, Pre-Coup, Mild Language

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Uncle Auberon’s birthday celebration was one of the most well attended parties in Goldis, only paling in comparison to those in celebration of Queen Lucrezia and King Fenris. Queen Ta’jean preferred the company of only a handful of nobles and royalty, her life in the palace was extremely private. And Queen Nikolle…

Sereia pushed the thought away, refusing to dwell on the state of her mother. This was the first party this year she’d been invited to and she wasn’t going to waste it with morose thoughts. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Smoothing down the ruffles of her gown, her silver eyes swept the crowd, trying to spot her siblings in the rancorous crowd. From her spot at the back of the room, she noticed Nerissa with the largest entourage, trying to keep her smile in place as she listened to Lord Whathisname blabber on. Her guard, KY-L3, stood a few feet away, stoic as usual.

Not far from where Nerissa stood were Auberon and his wife, socializing with his namesake. The King’s uncle was starting to look his age no matter how much he tried to hide it. Uncle Auberon’s severe gaze wasn’t on those speaking to him, but was focused on where the King sat beside Lucrezia, neither paying mind to the party but to whatever was in their goblets. Uncle Auberon always unnerved Sereia and she had to glance away, fearing what he might do should he caught her watching him.

With a sigh, she lifted her drink to her lips, taking a tentative sip of the fruity wine, eyes downcast. The crimson liquid bubbled and popped against her tongue, the sensation nearly making her sneeze.

Closing her eyes, she managed to cover her nose, halting the sneeze before it could escape.

“That’s the ugliest face I think I’ve ever seen you make. And I’ve seen you during puberty, pimples and all.”

Sereia rolled her eyes, watching as her insufferable brother appeared from out of the crowd, a cocky grin pulling at his lips, his curls falling fashionably into his eyes. The same silver eyes she had. The ones they inherited from their mother. “As if you were any better.”

Arlo snorted, but somehow he made the sound less offensive. “Whatever makes you feel better, duckling.”

The old nickname was supposed to hurt her feelings, but Sereia was long past whatever animosity they held against each other, both suffering together from the pain of their mother’s illness more than their elder siblings had ever had. Instead of responding, she shrugged, pretending the wine was more interesting than him, which he always detested.

She eyed the dress he wore, the same one she did. A low cut gown of deep plum, ruffles flowing in a mockery of what a mermaid tail was rumored to look like, his golden skin and dark curls making him look like a Greek God of the past. Sometimes she hated that he was as handsome as he was… it made him impossible.

“Do you think Lucrezia noticed our lovely fashion yet?” He continued, taking a sip from the glass of wine in his hands, smiling against the rim. “I would absolutely shudder to think of embarrassing her.”

“And you’re not afraid of being embarrassed by me?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm and he only smirked at her. Sereia didn’t want to attempt to interpret that at the moment. “It must be a cold day in hell.”

“Only when Lucrezia isn’t in attendance.”

She snorted before covering it with a smile as a nobleman passed them, not that it mattered since none of them ever noticed her. Avoiding her brother’s eerily similar eyes, she focused on Elettra who was standing across the room, looking positively furious at being shoved into a gown. She couldn’t see Sorenn from where she stood, but he was probably looking as happy as their sister. “Speaking of the Queen, it seems she’s found her victim of the night.”

“I’d feel sorry for Lettie, but well… I don’t.” He muttered, leaning against a marble pillar and swirling the wine in his glass. “What’s Celest doing?”

Sereia glanced around the room, seeing their sister’s dark curls and crimson gown stick out amongst the more muted colors. “She’s dancing with your date.”

“What?!” He appeared at her side a moment later, silver eyes slanting in the direction of that mass of curls, only to snort at the sight of Celest grazing at the buffet table. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Takes one to know one, dipshit.”

Arlo took a sip of his wine with a gleam in his eyes. That look never spelled well for Sereia’s sanity at any other time and she had to repress a shiver. He finished his drink with a smack of his lips, handing the cup off to a passing waiter. “I know I agreed to this, but why do all of your clothes look like Lucrezia’s god awful curtains?”

“Oh please, as if you don’t know you look good in ruffles.” Sereia’s eyes scanned the scattered faces around them, unable to pick out any more of her siblings in the crowd. At least, for the most part, that was going to be an issue. She couldn’t avoid them if she didn’t see them.

“That’s beside the point, Reia. You know I can make any ugly thing look fabulous.” Her older brother put his hands on his hips and as much as she hated to admit it, he did cut a good figure in a gown. “Why? Are you jealous that you look like a settee cushion and I look like the royalty I am?”

“You’re so annoying.” With a tired sigh, she spotted Elettra make her escape and decided to do the same. “Go harass Celest if you need someone to bother.”

“Sorenn was next on my list, if you must know.” He said, grinning wildly as if what he had planned for their older brother was worse than what he did to her most days. “Be ready to make a getaway once the Queen sees me.”

“I’m not sure if I’m more worried about Lucrezia or Uncle Auberon, at this point.”

Arlo winked as he turned away, grabbing another full glass of wine from the table behind him. “I’d bet my entire allowance that it’s Lucrezia. She takes these events way too seriously.”

“You only care about getting laid!” Sereia nearly shouted as he melted into the crowd. A few people glanced at her as if she was losing her mind, but she ignored them, focusing on Elettra as she pushed past a few chattering nobles.

Elettra raised an eyebrow at her approach, a satisfied grin curling her lips at Sereia’s appearance. “Please tell me you’ve come to save me.”

“It depends. What did Lucrezia want?”

Elettra’s golden skin flushed, whether in embarrassment or anger, Sereia couldn’t tell by blush alone, but the twist of her sister’s lips was enough of a hint. It was the usual royal bullshit. “What else? The Queen is wondering when I’ll get over dating common folk and finally do my duty as a royal.”

“She wants you to get married, then?”

“Get married to whatever pompous prick she deems good enough for me.” Her elder sister grumbled under her breath, trying to adjust the silver fabric that draped around her muscular body. She looked so uncomfortable in the damned gown and Sereia felt a pang of sadness for her sister.

“Someone she can control that you’ll probably hate?”

It was no secret how much hatred Lucrezia held for their mother, Nikolle. None of the Kitalphin children expected to be welcomed with open arms by the Solar Queen, but to see how she went out of her way just to make their lives uncomfortable at best and torturous at worst… Sereia was only glad that their mother didn’t understand what was happening right under her nose.

The King, however, was another story.

“Truly, you are a lot more clever than everyone gives you credit for.” Elettra sighed, but a smile twitched at her lips. Slipping her hand into Sereia’s, she gave her fingers an affectionate squeeze. “But yes. Fortunately for me, Father has kept Lucrezia in line concerning my love life. Unfortunately for Sorenn-”

“It means he’s her next target.” Sereia tried to ignore the stab of pain in her chest at the casual mention of her family’s dismissal. The only person who ever truly cared about her wellbeing, about her in general, was Nerissa. It had never bothered her what they thought of her before, but sometimes… sometimes she wished otherwise, even if it was a foolish desire. “Should we warn him?”

“I think it’s too late for that.” Elettra tucked a strand of violet hair behind her ear, nodding to where Lucrezia had found Sorenn. He watched, wide eyed, as the Queen began to introduce him to a dark haired nobleman, an elderly gentleman who didn’t even smile while Lucrezia made her sales pitch.

“Do you think she’s trying to set him up with the old man or his daughter?”

Elettra choked on a laugh.

“You should probably escape while you have a chance.” Sereia whispered, leaning closer to avoid being overheard. “If the King asks, something came up in the barracks.”

Her sister grinned at her, joy and something that Sereia could pretend was sisterly love dancing in her dark eyes. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Say hi to Flick for me.”

Elettra twirled, the dress puffing up around her in glittery silver, the happiest grin Sereia had ever seen on her face. With a quick thumbs up, her sister disappeared out of the doors of the ballroom, taking all of the warmth with her. Her absence left a cold vacuum around Sereia, and with a shiver, she moved out of Lucrezia’s eyesight, hoping to blend in until the very end of the party where she could slip away unnoticed as well.

Sereia stood by the open doors of the balcony, a cool night breeze wafting into the stifling room and she found she could breathe easier here, the sounds of the night soothing against the hum of the party. For a brief moment, she wondered if perhaps she could slip past the doors after Elettra, maybe to head to the East Wing where her mother resided. Maybe she could salvage some of the evening with a story and her mother’s quiet presence.

“What the hell do you want?”

Sereia glanced into the unrelenting darkness only to find a pair of hard golden eyes staring back. Tavaris.

Forgoing an eye roll, she focused on the glow of the moon in the sky, so much like her half-Tilaari brother’s silver hair. Sometimes, she wondered what life would’ve been like if even a handful of her siblings weren’t egotistical, cruel people. “I needed some fresh air.”

“Well go somewhere else.” He snapped, resting against the railing, arms crossed at his chest. His eyes burned like molten gold, refusing to give her even the smallest peace in this royal hell. “This balcony is occupied.”

She wanted to snap back, to ask him why the fuck he deserved an entire floor’s width balcony to himself, but Tavaris and his high opinion of himself were more than she was willing to deal with at the moment. “Fine.”

She heard his nasty chuckle as she turned her back, a soft self-satisfied sound that almost made her spin around and slap him across the face. But she resisted, knowing that despite Ta’jean’s own high opinion of herself and her children, she’d always been there for her mother. Once, they’d been dear friends. Even now, Ta’jean went out of her own way to make sure Nikolle was well cared for. That had to count for something.

Sereia dodged another set of nobles before coming face to face with Lucrezia. The Solar Queen cocked an eyebrow, running her dark gaze over the dress she wore, from head to toe before moving back up, gaze burning with a thousand words of ridicule and mockery.

Where was Nerissa when Sereia needed her?

“Well, it seems your style lacks quite like your mother’s always did.” She stuck her nose into the air as if she smelled something disgusting. Perhaps she did. She was drenched in some atrocious perfume. “If Nikolle could see you now, would she be proud or appalled?”

“You speak as if my mother was dead.” Sereia said through gritted teeth, trying her best to look calm and collected to any passing eyes. She doubted she succeeded. Not much got under her skin quite like the Solar Queen did.

“Wouldn’t it be kinder if she was?” Lucrezia asked sweetly, her cruel eyes sharp as her words stabbed Sereia in the chest.

Tears threatened to spill across her cheeks. The corner of the Queen’s lips tilted upwards at the sight of Sereia’s struggle, pleased with how easy it was to cut her down with words. She refused to be weak, to show how easily Lucrezia could affect her.

“Perhaps you should watch what you wish for, Lucrezia. Sometimes, it won’t turn out quite how you’re expecting it to.”

The Queen’s eyes widened slightly, as if sensing the threat that Sereia didn’t actually speak.

“Ah, there you are, darling.” Arlo slithered up beside her, his eyes flashing dangerously as they watched Lucrezia. Her brother’s solid presence made Sereia relax slightly, knowing that no matter how much he loved to annoy her, they could at least trust to have each other’s back where the Queens were involved. “Your Majesty, you’re looking positively radiant in your envy.”

Lucrezia’s jaw tensed, whirling on him with so much rage in her eyes that it nearly boiled over. “And you. Stay away from my Celest. She will make a good match one day and associating with you will only sour her-”

She trailed off when she realized what she was seeing: the two youngest children of her husband, wearing matching gowns and not caring a lick for the fashion decree she had demanded for the party. Her eyes slanted at the sight and Sereia swore there was steam coming from her ears.

“You dare show your faces here, looking like this, embarrassing not only the King and I, but disrupting the celebrations with your childishness.”

“And where does your tantrum fit in with all of that awfulness?” Arlo’s eyes sparkled with barely concealed laughter, his lips twisting into a grin. “Because while my sister and I look respectable, the paragons of propriety even, you are certainly acting like a brat.”

“You dare speak to me like this?”

A shadow appeared at Lucrezia’s side, an imposing man who slipped her arm into the crook of his with little trouble. He regarded the youngest Peg’asi with a cold glare that spoke of more than contempt. There was little love in his heart and he had no issue that others knew that.

Ecko.

His voice was as cold as his demeanor. “Mother, you’re making a scene.”

Lucrezia blinked, glancing at her son in such a way that made Sereia’s chest hurt even more. Love. The Queen loved her natural children, but the rest of them… they were nothing more than a reminder that the King had a wandering eye. Sereia might’ve felt bad for her if she wasn’t so awful to those who had no choice in being born to the world.

“They aren’t worth the effort.” Ecko continued, obsidian eyes refusing to even acknowledge they existed. Arlo’s smile didn’t falter once, but she noticed the tension in his shoulders. “Let’s go. Father is looking for you.”

Lucrezia laughed lightly, pressing a hand against his arm gratefully. “Yes, my dear. You’re right. Best not waste time with those who won’t do much more than sit on their hands while the King’s true children do truly great things. Let’s not keep Fenris waiting, then.”

Arlo watched them leave, face stormy, silver eyes wild with fury. She stepped closer, holding a hand out towards him, hoping to bring some comfort to him that he so easily brought to her. Even in the days he didn’t mean to. Because the two of them were fish in a sea of sharks.

“Arlo?”

He shook her off, aiming his ire in her direction. “Go. The fun is over.”

Sereia swallowed around the lump in her throat, his words stinging. “Lucrezia is a bitch. Don’t let her get to you.”

Arlo sighed, brushing some of his dark curls out of his eyes as he scanned the crowd. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find. When he finally glanced back at her, his gaze had softened. “I’ll be fine. Go. Mother could use the company and you could use a break from this bullshit.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and dashing off into the crowd again. When the plum of his train disappeared, Sereia sagged under the weight of it all. The politics, her mother’s illness, the lack of close relationships in her life, even amongst her own siblings.

Turning her back on the party, Sereia ventured into the dark halls of the palace, wishing again that she had a friend to rely on when it all became too much.

#my writing #andromeda six #a6 #a6 fanfic #a6 traveler #kitalphin traveler #oc: sereia #arlo peg'asi #elettra peg'asi #tavaris peg'asi #lucrezia peg'asi #ecko peg'asi

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nevadas-night-time-novelist · 2 years

Text

Crackpot, Hofnarr - S/O gets knocked up

CW: Pregnancy

Reader is AFAB but this is gender neutral.

Crackpot

-The leader had taken you as a life partner after you’d shown your dedication to the Fanatics and Zed worship. Of course he’d make sure his relationship wouldn’t impede on his cult followers, but you have never once brought your faith into question, a loyal and submissive follower, but with the power to hold your own. And he fawned over that.

-Your Fanatic garb is replaced with Prophet’s robes, he adorns his beloved with fairy lights, whisking you away to his own private chambers, now a shared bed space. Of course he favours you, but he’ll deny it outwardly, but no other have seen him at his most vulnerable, with his mask off, no others have laid to sleep next to him, no.

-It’s by accident he knocks you up, a lapse in his judgement due to a hyperfixation on his worship, he wasn’t thinking straight. One of the former doctors takes note of your change in behaviours and she makes the connection. The cult now worships you too, for the leader has blessed you with child, you are indeed a higher being than them.

-Crackpot himself is surprised, but all the same enticed by the idea of bolstering numbers though his own most devoted worshippers. You gain an entourage, worshippers and zeds alike follow your trail like ducklings, an idol to the living and a comfort to the dead.

-He eventually finds a plague doctor mask similar to his own, and he replaces your prophet mask for it. His favouritism is no longer deniable, and his following is more than happy with his choice, judging by the shrine they’ve put together for you.

-You become bait for the cult, removing your attire and luring unsuspecting bandits and others into the depths, some are recruited, but most are torn to shreds and devoured by the zeds. Crackpot had been hesitant to suggest the idea but it clearly worked like a charm, and over time he’d become complacent that nothing would hurt you. The usual zeds that followed you would hide just out of view, ready to pounce on anyone daring to try harm you.

-Anything of slight luxury is given to you, extra pillows and blankets, a larger ration of food, people even start giving you just cool rocks they think you’ll like, and mostly because there’s an abundance of them in the mine. Crackpot himself undertakes this endeavour, and somehow ends up finding a nice large geode for you.

-During your private time with the former doc, he snuggles close up with you, always wanting some physical affection. Lingering touches, prolonged kisses, just pulling your physical form as close to him as possible, hoping, praying your S-3LFs interlock and never untangle. He’s become utterly dependant on you, he will bow to your every need, just please, don’t leave him.

-Keeping with the physical touches, he’ll run his fingers over the parts of yourself you deem imperfect, kissing over those deep scars in your flesh, fingertips grazing over stretchmarks. He’ll praise them, all of you is perfect, and if there’s parts of yourself you don’t love, he’ll love them extra hard to make up for it.

-There’s a chamber set up for when your baby is ready to join the ranks, lit by candlelight, it’s very ritualistic. There are many spectators, everyone is eager to get their first glimpse of the young one. Crackpot takes the lead, the best of the biologists assist you too. The first zed that began following you stands behind you, pressing a damp cloth to your head to try and sooth you.

-Hours pass, murmurs of comfort and support from your crowd never wavering, and eventually your child is born. “It’s a girl,” Crackpot shouts and hoists her into the air for all to see, and the cult loses their minds, chanting “girl” over and over.

-Once the excitement dissipates and you’re left with your partner and child, you’re left in a state of bliss like no other. He lays next to you on the bed, one of his arms around you, the other gently resting on his newborn babe, swaddled up to your chest.

-Everyone pitches in to help, their leaders are occupied with their new little lady, and they’re all eager to lend a hand. It takes a village to raise a child, after all. Your duties have all but been revoked, everyone else pulling extra weight so you may tend and care for your young.

-Crackpot never really had a father figure himself, this is very foreign territory for him. You hand him your child and he’s pretty lost, just looking down at her and unsure what to do. Infants aren’t one for… stimulating conversations, just making a lot of incoherent noises.

-With his inability to purr, he can’t sooth her very well when she gets fussy, his dove cooing just isn’t the same. He’s also quite squeamish with how messy babies are, he gets one of his underlings to clean up puke. You’re also on perma diaper duty. Zed rot he can handle, body fluids he cannot.

-She’s the apple of his eye though, he will wake in the night to do nightly feeds, does his fair share of baby care while you run the cult in his place. While you’re busy, he says mama/papa/baba to your child, with the hope that her first word will be you.

-Of course his hard work pays off, and sure enough your bab reaches out to you and calls out. You scoop her into your arms and beam, Crackpot’s cheeks flush and he looks away. “Wonder how she learned that.” Your free hand cups his face as you smooch him over and over.

-He’s a little too eager for her to progress through to the next stages, you have to remind him to slow down and enjoy every little moment, because in the blink of an eye she’ll be grown. He’s just excited to see what she’s capable of.

Hofnarr

Another stressful day at work, conspiring with Dr. Christoff about Nexus’ eventual downfall, just to be welcomes by your supportive arms, loving kisses, and positive affirmations. He melts into your touch, his clouded mind temporary cleansed.

Hofnarr relaxes with you, safe in your little home where all the worries of the outside world can’t touch him, your hands holding his, gently rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “Honey, there’s something we need to talk about.” A pit formed in his stomach. “Uhh, what about sweetie?”

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Well, I’m pregnant.” “Wh-wait-” He did a double take, blinking rapidly. “You.. You’re pregnant? We’re-We’re gonna have a baby?” You nodded. Elation filled his eyes, he cupped your cheeks in his hands and he delivered furious kisses on your lips. “Oh sweetie-” Kiss. “This is amazing!” Kiss. “I can’t wait!” Kiss. “Oh this is exciting!!” Kiss kiss.

He’d fallen hard for you, and he did have thoughts of getting you pregnant, but you weren’t exactly trying at the time. But now he was excited, the concept of being a father was a dream come true.

The day after finding out, he takes you out to a cafe to celebrate, inviting Jebediah and Jacqueline out because oh god he’s so excited to tell them, with your permission. Jack squeals with delight, gushing about how much she loves babies and is so excited for you both, already volunteering herself to be a sitter should you need one. Jeb keeps his cool, but is still clearly happy for you both. Both men shared a look, knowing their plans to take Nexus down would have to be on temporary hold.

Hoffy actually plans and throws a surprise baby shower, your friends and family showing up with gifts and loving well wishes. It isn’t gendered, you both agreed to leave it up to surprise, it doesn’t matter either way, this little bundle growing within you was going to be loved regardless.

Given how important his roll is in Nexus, he can’t really take off much time to spend with you, as much as he would love to spend every day with you and soak in your company. He would talk about you at least double the amount he usually did. “They’re positively glowing, I don’t know how I managed to win their heart, but I’m so lucky.”

Now and then Jack would send him home with some of her baked goodies for you, little reassuring notes attached to them all, promising to be there at a moments notice should you need her. She was a nice person, and Hofnarr was quite fond of her, and you’d take her up on her offers sometimes.

With some prodding and begging from Christoff, Hide and, Hofnarr himself, Phobos eventually sends him away on paternity leave, still expecting him to work remotely. More time to spend with his lover as your due date draws in, he loves having you so close. Laptop on his lap and tapping away with one hand, you snuggled into his side, arms draped around his back and chest. His free hand resting comfortably on your hip, rubbing gentle circles into your skin. Sweet domesticity, if there was a heaven, surely this was it.

Later that night your water breaks, and so does his calm temperament. You’d already had bags packed near the door, prepared for this, and yet your boyfriend was still rushing around in a flustered panic, like a headless chicken. “Honey,” He stops dead in his panic, looking at you, hands over your protruding stomach, you looked like an angel while bathed in the moonlight from the window. “it’s okay. Come on, let’s go to the hospital, alright?”

You’re attended to by professionals, doped up enough to numb the majority of the pain. Hoffy stands patiently at your side, your hand in his as he tenderly rubs circles into it with his thumb. “You’re doing so well my love, so so well.” He’s a damn rock during this, his well hidden spine of steel coming into full effect. And when you scream out, and its joined by the howling from your child, duty strikes him like a train.

He’s going to tear down Nexus, for your sake, and for your baby’s sake. He’s going to lay his life down if he must, because in this world of secret evils, he’s made something worth protecting, something worth the ultimate sacrifice. Your daughter is placed in your arms, wrapped snugly in a plush pink blanket, and he kisses you ever so tenderly. “We did it love,”

And he sees this new little stranger, a petite and frail thing, wide eyes filled with innocence of the world, staring back at him. Hope fills his heart, the need to fight for a better world for this bundle of new experiences, to keep that sweet innocence safe for as long as he can. “And she’s beautiful.”

#madness combat #madcom #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #madness combat reader insert #madcom reader insert #x gon deliver to ya #tricky #tricky x reader #tricky the clown #dr hofnarr #dr hofnarr x reader

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electrasev5nwrites · 8 months

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Ninja Daily: AIC 22

Aiko took one last look around the hotel room before she headed out the door. A heavy finality hung over the teacup left waiting on the table and the toiletries she wouldn't be retrieving from the bathroom.

It wasn't like she'd ever loved this stupid hotel room. It was under constant surveillance and plagued by an older air conditioning unit that limped more than it ran. It wasn't a home. But it was probably the last place where she'd ever sleep more than a night or two in Konoha.

"You're not getting sentimental on me now, are you?"

She rolled her eyes and slammed the door shut behind her. She considered the key in her palm for a moment as she led her team out through the lobby. She wanted to toss it to the counter, but that would be a slight hint that she didn't intend to return. Might raise alarm bells, that was all. She put the key into the same pouch as her money.

"You certainly showed me," Sanbi drawled. "Most casual and unattached."

'Fuck you too, reptile.'

Pointedly, she yawned and pretended not to hear his sputtering. She led her brats through the crowds, not pushing despite how eager the genin were to hurry up. They stopped for yakitori and yakisoba on the way. Aiko managed to babble something vaguely dad-ish about needing fuel, but the boys were too wound up to properly groan about it.

The stadium was enormous, teeming with bodies. The lower levels, about 2/3 of the space, were lined with seats. The upper reaches were a series of pavilions cordoned off with ropes and filled with seating cushions. At the very top, several special seating areas were boxed off and air-conditioned for the most important people.

Aiko craned her head and watched them fill, seeing who she recognized. That was one of the Fire Daimyo's cousins, with her constant companion, the minister of transportation, a woman in her mid-thirties. There, to the left- that person and his entourage had to be from one of the smaller countries. She didn't recognize them but the group composition and clothes marked several of them as royalty. Oh, the Daimyo's wife was joining her cousin-in law. And, of course, the Hokage filed in with ANBU bodyguards early enough to receive the Kazekage.

Well. Orochimaru, rather. But he was wearing the robes of the Kazekage and accompanied by the Kazekage's bodyguards, which was apparently enough to get past security. Aiko would say that seemed a bit lax, except that she wouldn't put it past Orochimaru to literally be wearing the Kazekage's face. It was both practical and horrifying, so of course he would.

"Practical?" Sanbi asked, disbelieving.

As a solution, face-stealing both created and solved problems. So….

Aiko shrugged. In a way, yeah? Whatever. She dismissed the train of thought, because other things were catching her attention. Keisuke was agonizing over the perfect seating while his teammates were staring into the area where contestants would wait with varying levels of nerves.

Well. Aiko scanned the crowds, hands in her pockets. She knew where she wanted to deposit her genin. If they were going to insist on fighting, she would like for them to not die horribly, or at least be near someone responsible enough to point out their corpses so she could revive them and laugh at them forever. She needed an adult.

…Well, her students needed an adult, really. They had her, but they currently required an adult who was adultier than she was.

Ah, there. She hooked one finger around the closest child's collar and began towing him along. The other ducklings followed. She let go of Yuusaku and let him slip behind her once they'd got going properly. They went up two rows, across an aisle, and then down eight rows, at which point the genin probably thought she was fucking with them. When she stopped suddenly, Yuusaku walked into her.

"Oh." Aiko gave her worst impression of surprise, blinking slowly. "How nice to see you here."

Neji gave a disbelieving look without turning his head, but Tenten was leaning shamelessly to gape at the woman who had initiated a conversation with Gai of her own free will. Lee sparkled. Gai leapt up, grinning. "Greetings! I am pleas-"

Aiko sat down. "Do you mind," she said. "Everywhere else is full." She desperately wished she could pull out a book to indicate that the conversation was over, but she was not going to risk her precious babies here. Replacing an entire series was not cheap, and she had other demands on her funds.

Tenten made an incredulous gesture towards the wealth of open seats around- the tournament didn't even start for an hour. And the contestants among them would need to move down to the ring-side waiting area anyway.

These were all reasonable points that Aiko wasn't interested in debating.

Aiko raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. She made eye contact. Tenten blinked. Her mouth twitched, and then opened. She looked down at her lap, brow furrowed.

"Is a staring match with a genin really worthy of the dignity of a Mizukage?" Sanbi asked, pained. "Uzumaki, please consider utilizing some decorum. I am embarrassed for you."

"Of course you may join us!" Gai beamed, not sitting back down yet. "And who are these fine young people?" He sparkled at Aiko's team.

'That sounds like a personal problem,' Aiko shot back to the Sanbi. 'Sad for you.'

She hooked a thumb towards the kids. "These short people?" Aiko asked. They were all taller than she was. One of them made an indignant sound. She shrugged. "They follow me a lot. I forget their names. Maybe one of them is named Hirota? Something like that."

Keisuke made an indignant sound and bit it off just as quickly. There was a full three seconds of stiff silence. She did her best to keep a straight face.

"…I see," Gai said, not sounding like he understood at all.

Ryuusei sniffed and brushed off the front of his slacks as he sat down. He introduced himself, ignoring Aiko entirely. The other two exchanged glances and then followed his lead.

She slouched in her seat and brought one foot up onto the chair. She let one arm dangle off the chair. Aiko did her best to pretend to be somewhere else.

The genin collectively seemed to decide to ignore this. Tenten started a stilted conversation with Keisuke, and managed to drag Neji into it somehow. After a while, things flowed more naturally. Aiko stared resolutely into space, keeping how pleased she was off of her face. It was good to be around people who were normal and healthy enough to bond easily when the conditions were right. It was convenient.

Gai struck up a fairly one-sided conversation that Aiko nodded along to, especially at the parts she disagreed with. He seemed cheerful enough. After a while she relaxed enough to sit more normally. She didn't spend too much time analyzing his motives- he was Gai. He was probably the most well-adjusted adult shinobi she'd ever met. She wasn't that worried about what he would conclude from her actions. He tended to see the best options.

He did quiet a bit when the matches began. One of his students and two of Aiko's made their way down to the contestant's seating. Neji glowered. It was all very predictable.

She tried not to perk up in her seat or look too disinterested in Naruto's match, when he came out first. Then she wondered if trying to modulate her reaction would result in behavior more suspicious than just doing what she felt like doing. It was the first match. She'd be justified in an interest level above 'conscious' even if she didn't know Naruto at all. And it wasn't a secret that she knew Naruto, jus-

"Cease your infernal squirming."

Aiko covered her mouth with a sleeve. 'I think you're getting grumpier. You seem much older and more crotchety than you did when we met.'

"I try. Thank you for noticing."

Wait, what?

But then Naruto was yelling, and Aiko cringed hard enough to bring her back to the outside world.

"I don't care! I'll never give up." His voice was thin, but the crowd was quiet enough that it carried up.

Tenten just stood there. Aiko imagined her expression was carefully neutral, but she couldn't see at this distance. Luckily, the huge display screens flickered on a second later. By that time, any surprised reaction had been concealed.

A shinobi that Aiko only vaguely remembered seeing around gave a resigned check of both genin. "Alright, then." The sound system was… not great. His voice crackled through the speakers. "Begin." He leapt out of the way, which seemed a bit dramatic because nothing happened beyond Naruto dropping into an athletic stance.

Metal creaked. Aiko glanced over to the left and her eyebrows shot up. Lee was gripping the railing so hard that his hands were white.

Well then.

Gai caught her looking and flashed her a grin. "This match is most significant." His tone was confidential. "One of my students is competing against one of my rival's students. It is, by proxy, perhaps our greatest competition yet."

Aiko thought about that. It was… well, yeah. That seemed fair. Kakashi and Gai weren't the ones in the ring, but there was something terribly vulnerable about sending their students off to fight.

"I hope little Tenten wins," she decided.

The other jounin tilted his head slightly.

"She seems like a good kid," Aiko explained. "Plus, Hatake is a dickhead."

Neji gave her a scandalized look, which was sort of adorable and also a dead giveaway that he'd been eavesdropping.

"A… dickhead," Gai repeated slowly.

There was something in his tone that made her wary. "Oh right, he's your friend," Aiko said, as if she'd just remembered. It was more that she'd forgotten she didn't have a relationship with these people that would put them at ease. She gave Gai an easy smile. "He hurt my feelings and I'm going to make him rue the day."

"This does not seem to be a line of discussion that will soothe fears," Sanbi said doubtfully.

Gai rubbed at his chin. "What day will he be ruing?"

That was not the question she would have asked and she wasn't prepared to answer it off-hand. Aiko made a face. "I'll let you know when I've figured it out. I mean, he was pretty rude to me in Wave, so there's that. But he also tricked me yesterday into revealing that I'm either a cheater or sneaking around or just way too knowledgeable about Konoha. So I'm not happy about that. I mean, I didn't let him rub my face in it, but we both knew that he knew I knew what he'd won, and that cannot stand."

He was giving her a look that was no longer contemplation. It leaned more towards disbelief.

"I''m not telling you which nefarious option is accurate," Aiko pointed out. She sniffed. "But I don't see the point in pretending not to be aware of the byplay."

"You would never do that," someone agreed from behind in a tone that was so sincere it was readily apparent that it was a lie.

Aiko didn't jump to her feet because she was startled or anything. She didn't. It was just that she still believed, on some level, that Kakashi would have a hiraishin tag on him, and she occasionally forgot what a sneaky bastard he could be.

He looked far too smug as he took the last step down to their level. He was also henged to appear as Genma, for some reason that she chose not to contemplate deeply. He was avoiding someone, probably.

"This is a clone," Sanbi identified. "I can taste it in his chakra. It is too thin."

Of course. The real one was probably more accessible to his students. Keeping an eye on Sasuke, possibly?

She sat back down and rolled her eyes. "You're lucky you're cute," Aiko said as bitterly as she could manage.

And that- that might be a good tactic to keep in mind, because Kakashi covered it well, but there was an instant where he froze at the implication that she was interested in him. Oh, yes. She could use that.

"Am I cute as well?" Gai asked seriously. Because he was a total bro, and if anything might have made her forget about Kakashi's blunder, that would have been it. He was such a good person.

Um. Aiko blinked to buy a moment to think, but no great answer came to her. She relied on honesty, which was a desperation tactic if she'd ever heard of one. "You're a little frightening. To be candid." He slumped a little, so her tone was apologetic as she went on. "I'm warier about people who might be stronger than me."

Kakashi made an offended sound.

"Yes, I know you'd kill me too if you needed to, and in the right situation you might be able to do it," Aiko soothed. "Maybe. I mean, I'm a lot stronger than either of you are, let's be honest. But Maito-san is a much worse match for me." She crossed her arms and leaned back. "And I think he's an actual adult and that freaks me out. I mean, I'm mostly faking it, but I get the impression that you are actually the same on the inside as you are on the outside." She jerked her head toward Gai to belatedly indicate she was no longer talking to Kakashi. "I'm basically screaming in my head and hoping things work out, so. Bit intimidating. Well-adjusted people, I mean. I get the uncomfortable feeling that you might actually know what's going on and I don't like that."

She grimaced.

No one said anything for long enough that she felt like she might have to defend her statement. Aiko crossed and uncrossed her ankles.

Still silent.

"What is wrong with you?" Sanbi asked. "I genuinely want to know. Why did you think that was a good and useful thing to say?" He paused. "Who hurt you?"

Oh look, Naruto was resorting to the Kyuubi's chakra. She pretended to be interested for a moment, and then realized that was actually mildly concerning. What had she missed?

"That is not good," Kakashi said under his breath.

Aiko snorted. "Not really, no." She tilted her head. "Are you going to do something? How much control does he have? Because it's really not fair to little Tenten if he loses his temper and uses force more appropriate for a deathmatch."

Kakashi gave her a sharp look.

She had to fight not to roll her eyes. Instead, she pointed at her nose. "Uzumaki," Aiko reminded in a dry tone. "You people are not subtle. At all. Of course I know."

"Know what?" Neji asked sharply. "Gai-sensei. Is Tenten in danger?"

"Of course not," Gai said. He flexed. "I would never let one of my beautiful students become harmed. The situation is under control."

He looked as though he didn't entirely trust that, but Naruto was actually fighting down the chakra that had been tinting the air red. He seemed to be entirely himself when he leapt directly through a barrage of kunai to punch Tenten out.

Aiko winced, for both of them. Tenten was going to feel that for a while- she didn't lose consciousness, but with a headblow like that, the match was clearly over. But Naruto wasn't much better. He'd blocked with his arm, but that meant that the worst of the damage was concentrated there. She counted six kunai embedded in his forearm and one on his right shoulder before the screens changed to show the tournament match-up format being amended to show Tenten's name crossed off and Naruto advancing to the second round.

"That was ugly."

When no one responded, Aiko turned her head and noticed that Gai and Kakashi's clone were both gone.

Typical.

The next match was boring and she didn't pretend to care about it. The most interesting thing that happened was when Gai came back, a little grimmer but clearly not too upset. The third match on the board was Sasuke and Gaara.

Gaara was the only genin who walked out. The proctor waited a polite thirty seconds before calling for Sasuke over the loudspeaker.

Aiko covered her face with her hands.

They went to calling for Kakashi on the loudspeaker.

'This is mortifying. I know he's here. Why is he doing this?'

"In Uchiha Sasuke's absence, I have no other choice but to-"

Aiko cracked open an eye to see that Kakashi and Sasuke were, in fact, standing in the arena. They were being a bit dramatic about it, actually.

The proctor sighed and didn't actually seem happier about the interruption than he'd been about the announcement. "Very well," he said, as though things were not remotely well. "Hatake-san, please leave the arena." He waited a moment for compliance. In front of the Daimyo and god and everyone, Kakashi pulled out his book and ambled away at a painfully slow pace. The proctor gritted his teeth. Kakashi hadn't entirely cleared the arena when the man clearly decided he'd had enough. "Please begin."

To his credit, Sasuke did at least make an effort to provoke Gaara into the first attack. She didn't hear what he said, but the little smirk projected on the enormous screen was provocation enough.

There was no reaction. It was like Gaara hadn't even heard. He stood with arms crossed, feet in a neutral stance, and basically just looked like a bad-tempered cat on the verge of falling asleep.

Gradually, the cockiness slipped away as the genin realized it wouldn't accomplish anything with this opponent. Aiko could see the tell in Sasuke's posture before he made the first blow. A wall of sand rose up. Sasuke nearly ended up smacking straight into it.

Titters rang out across the stadium, and that… yepp. Aiko sighed, watching Sasuke's expression go from wary analysis to that damn temper of his. He tried charging Gaara again and again, throwing kunai and shuriken and wires and fire jutsu. None of it connected. He couldn't get close. And Gaara still wore the same ambivalent expression. He didn't even have to uncross his arms.

There had never really been a chance of this match being anything but a shitshow, but somehow it was still frustrating to watch just how outclassed Sasuke was. Aiko put her hands in her pockets so that her white-knuckles didn't betray tension.

Sasuke was stupid, and Kakashi was worse for pitting him against a lethal jinchuuriki for no real reason.

Letting your subordinates fight a stronger opponent with a penchant for unnecessary force: well, it had its place as a tactical resort, but that place wasn't some stupid exhibition match that wouldn't accomplish any other aim. That was a tactic of desperation. That risk was worthwhile to protect a client or a tactical position, to buy time or to try for some important aim.

It wasn't worthwhile when the only thing at stake was the chance to show off in front of a crowd and maybe earn a promotion.

This stubbornness was about misplaced pride, but whose? Sasuke was definitely not yet mature enough to back down from an opponent he couldn't handle. But if he'd been the only one with clouded judgment, Kakashi would have forced the forfeit… or just not brought him back to the tournament at all. He'd think that was funny.

'Does he think Gaara really can't kill Sasuke? Or just that he can stop Gaara in time to save Sasuke's life if needed?'

Honestly, Aiko wouldn't fucking count on being able to do that herself, and she was faster than Kakashi at this distance.

"What do you think?' Gai asked, and it might actually have been casual.

Aiko considered ignoring him. It seemed pointless to dissemble or be rude, though. "The Uchiha is faster than I expected, but he can't win."

Gai puffed up, but it wasn't with indignation. "I have found that it is best never to underestimate my rival. His student, in turn, may prove to be more than we see."

That was of course when Sasuke, finally tired of his pointless charges, went through a familiar series of handsigns. Aiko felt her eyebrows shoot up. Really? He'd taught that to-

Sasuke's chidori went screaming through Gaara's shield. For the first time, Gaara actually had to physically dodge. Caught by surprise, he moved too slowly- the attack grazed his arm.

Sasuke let the lightning spark away. He was saying something again, but it would never had been heard over the approving roars of the crowd at finally seeing some blood spilled.

It was Gaara that Aiko was staring at on the screen. He was staring down at his shredded sleeve in disbelief. Slowly, he touched the cut with his left hand. He brought the blood on his fingers up to his face and just looked at it.

'Here we go,' Sanbi said glumly.

Gaara threw his head back and screamed, mouth wrenched open until the seams of his lips must be straining. He began backing away from Sasuke, stumbling in confusion like a wounded animal.

Ah. Was that Ichibi-san's typical reaction to something like that? Aiko swallowed down a shudder. Even if she hadn't known what he was, she would have been disturbed by that painful sound.

Sasuke hesitated for one moment, something like common sense warning him away. And then he rushed the other genin to finish the match before Gaara could gather himself enough to turn that anger against him.

Which was an utterly ridiculous time for people to be slumping in their seats.

Aiko felt affronted before she realized what must be happening. It was a long, strange moment: Gaara lurched towards the wall and burst it open. He escaped into the forest. Sasuke sprinted after him while thousands of people collapsed like abandoned puppets.

'I didn't even feel the genjutsu. That doesn't make sense, it's got to be a strong one to put down so many chuunin. I'm not immune to genjutsu with the Rinnegan deactivated., so..?'

Absently, she raised her left hand into a fist and punched at Gai's shoulder. He caught the fist, eyes blinking open in confusion.

"You are a jinchuuriki," Sanbi pointed out. "Even if you faltered, I would not allow an external force to take control."

Well, fair enough.

"Something weird is happening," she said mildly. She didn't try to pull her hand away by force- that just wasn't gonna happen.

Gai let her go and said something that was not youthful at all. Frankly, she was surprised he knew those kinds of words. By the time she'd twisted to stare, he'd woken Neji and Lee. Aiko shook Keisuke and pushed him toward the other genin.

Neji gave her a wary look.

She looked back at him blandly. "Hyuuga-kun, keep precious little what's-his-face safe, would you?" Aiko didn't wait for an answer- she jumped up onto the seat in front of her for a better vantage point. Gai would make sure his team was fine- and they were all strong. The children would seek each other out. A group of 6 chuunin level candidates under the supervision of an elite jounin should be fine… or at least leave recognizable corpses, if the worst happened.

Much of the crowd was still down, still or groaning in disorientation. Someone gave one high scream that cut off too quickly and sent a few people jerking up. Among the rows, some people were visually standing out by standing and moving- oh god, two rows down, a woman in plain clothes was dashing along the row making opportunistic slashes at sleeping spectators. A genin got his hand up in protection-

Aiko flinched at the scream. He hadn't gotten a weapon up. She was moving before she could think.

It was too late. The infiltrator didn't try to pry the impaled hand off her blade- she brought the whole thing back down towards the boy. Aiko kicked the woman in the teeth, but rich, hot blood was already spurting out. The infiltrator's head flung back with a painful crack that Aiko felt in her sandal. The woman's arms flung out to the side- she didn't even have the right reflexes. Must be why her assignment was killing children.

Aiko bared her teeth and twisted her weight into a sideways kick that caught the bitch in the neck. It broke, but the force of the attack sent the body flying downwards to catch several sleeping spectators in the head before rolling to a stop on someone's feet. It left a muddled path of people waking up in confusion.

The jounin were acting now, countering the vanguard who had tipped their hands and made the enemy clear. Steel clashed. People were shouting orders and warnings. Aiko heard Asuma shouting out "Suna!" Someone followed suit with "Sound!" It was a few moments before a high voice added, "Grass!"

But right here, right now, the genin she'd come too late to was trying to hold his neck shut with both hands, white eyes fixed on Aiko. He inhaled wetly.

She closed her eyes to break contact. "You'll last longer if you don't take out the kunai." Aiko licked her lips. She looked back at the terror on that young face. When she put her hand on his sweaty head, he leaned into the touch. There was a horrible sound from above, the kind of thing that could only mean massive destruction of the building. Orochimaru and the Sandaime, probably.

"Are we going to stay with him until he dies?" Sanbi asked, doubtful. "That could take several minutes."

Of course not. Aiko managed a smile. "Look at me." When he did, begging for help, she leaned forward so that her hair would hide what she was about to do. She turned on the Rinnegan and caught him in genjutsu- nothing complicated. Just warmth, sleepiness, and pleasant feelings.

She caught him before she cut off the chakra to her eyes. She leaned the boy against his deceased neighbor. She glanced at the person to the other side- another genin? A teammate, maybe. There was no way her wakeup call was going to be pleasant. Aiko cringed in commiseration.

Honestly, this arena was a deathtrap for genin. Getting them up would give them a chance to die on their feet, but not much else. If they were sleeping, they were likely to suffer incidental casualties at worst now that the jounin were countering the invaders. And at least it'd be quick.

Aiko turned back to the hole that Gaara had opened. She might have missed it, but it didn't look like anyone had followed.

She went after, because Sasuke was going to get his fool self killed. And if he did, Naruto would be close behind. It was what he did.

It wasn't difficult. She didn't need to do anything that could really be called tracking- Gaara had burned acidic chakra in a mostly straight line out of the arena, taking occasional chunks out of anything he got too close to. There was one bush that was actually on fire, which was baffling until she realized that Sasuke had probably been throwing attacks at his fleeing opponent.

She saw Sasuke's back through the trees first, stiff and arched like a cat's as he refused to entirely back down. Gaara was twenty feet beyond on his knees and one hand. The other was pulling at his face. He convulsed.

'This is clearly an untenable tactical position for a human child, is it not?" Sanbi half-asked.

Well. Yeah, but that was Sasuke for you.

Aiko leaned forward and peered at Sasuke's face, which was when he noticed her. He startled.

"You're a brave kid," she told him honestly. He was pale, but he looked determined.

His brow furrowed.

"I'm going to take over." Aiko felt like patting his head, but they probably didn't have that kind of relationship. "Do you know what a jinchuuriki is?"

Gaara's shrieks cut abruptly in volume, replaced mostly by harsh breathing. She glanced over to see that he was watching her now with slitted eyes.

Well that wasn't creepy at all. He really needed someone to sit down and have a talk with him. And if she wasn't going to let Naruto do it, it sort of fell to her. Ugh. Not her strength, really. She wanted an adult. But there wasn't one and there was never going to be one, so she was going to have to fake it.

"No," Sasuke said, resentful. "Just stay out of this. It's my fight!"

Aiko made a fist and booped him on the head, complete with sound effect. Sasuke's eyes went wide and red in outrage. He choked.

Gaara flung himself at her, sandy claws reaching out. She pushed Sasuke to the side and moved towards Gaara, flanking. He saw her, but couldn't keep her from grabbing his wrist. She moved them.

She didn't consider the relocation, because it was just so obvious. Suna's great desert was the trashcan of the shinobi world. It was just a vast sea of scorching sand, bereft of anything useful or bystanders.

That sea of sand rose up and closed around her body like a glove, smothering into her mouth and nose.

Hiraishin saved her from being crushed. She touched down behind Gaara, the mistake she'd made flickering to light in her brain. Sand trickled out of her nose, but remained crusted in her eyelashes until she roughly rubbed it away with her fingers.

'Embarrassing.'

She dodged the next barrage with pure speed, but there was really nothing to do about the great waves other than hiraishin. Gaara wasn't turning to look at her- he didn't even have to. As soon as she touched the ground it recoiled and struck at her.

"This is tiresome."

Aiko rather agreed. And she was aiming to be a responsible adult, wasn't she? It was something to try.

"No," Aiko said firmly, trying to make eye contact with the wayward genin. The next attack was small enough for her to cut it aside with suijutsu. The sand slopped to the ground, a dark lump oozing over the otherwise graceful, unhindered environment. His jutsu was beautiful, actually.

Gaara snarled, teeth yellowed. His eyes didn't look entirely human, but at least he was conscious.

"Bad," she stressed. She thrust out three middling-sized chains and batted aside the next tendrils. "We need to have a talk, Gaara-kun."

A line formed in between his eyes.

She chose to think that was encouraging. If he was confused, that meant he was at least listening.

"I'm not afraid of you," Aiko told him, making certain her tone was calm and nonjudgmental. "And I won't hurt you, either. Please calm yourself."

His eyes rolled back and his body collapsed. He didn't hit the ground before the Ichibi burst out of his flesh and the sand around, rocketing to a size that blotted out the skyline.

"Good work," Sanbi said dryly. "Does anyone like being told to be calm?"

"Oh, shut up." Aiko puffed her cheeks out as the Ichibi let out a hyena laugh and fixed yellow eyes on her. It pounced. She scissored her chakra chains on it, easily getting it encircled.

Well. Sort of. The Ichibi kept moving, half of its body seeping through the bounds, but the laughter changed to an angry scream that hurt her teeth.

She tightened the chains, gritting her jaw. She had to dance out of the way of a grasping claw, but refused to move too far and lose control of her chains. She needed more- no, she lengthened the ones she had, forcing the tips to wrap around again and again, trying to catch all the bijuu's legs and secure the head. She caught the hind legs easily enough. She managed to snap the Ichibi's jaw shut, which did cut back on the noise. But the hands kept lengthening and bending, evading her attempts to secure them.

"He is most powerful in the desert." Sanbi sounded completely done with her idiocy.

Well. That made sense. Aiko flipped to the side and thought of the wide open sea- she didn't have anything decent off Suna's west coast, but she wouldn't approach Kirigakure with this bijuu. Resources forced her to choose the east coast, but she went as far south as she could manage, hoping that any waves would be redirected out into the open sea, below the elemental nations.

She was prepared. Aiko transitioned to expending the correct chakra expenditure instantly and landed on the choppy surface. The Ichibi's eye went wide in mild surprise as it plopped into the water. That was funny, until the abrupt downward motion exhausted the slack in her chains. Aiko hit her knees on the waves, body shuddering with the weight she was suddenly supporting. Her muscles burned. She tossed her head back and screamed from the strain, because she just didn't have another response to the way her bones were creaking with effort to hold all that weight.

The rapidly lessening weight, as it happened.

She tightened her chains around the bijuu she couldn't see, trying to contain without breaking Gaara's body at the center. The sand was falling away, the dry heat holding it together failing as the Ichibi's chakra faltered in control of the suboptimal material.

Her chains jarred against each other. She wasn't holding anything.

She wasn't holding-

Aiko took a breath and contorted to dive down, holding her eyes open and following to where her chains were coiling, confused serpents in the deep. The clouds of sand stung and blinded her- she couldn't see anything, she couldn't see Gaara, he was unconscious and even if he woke he wouldn't be able to see where the sun was, he was-

Sanbi burst through her skin and she had just enough presence of mind to balk. He pushed. She let him take control.

Her lungs were burning in the deep, her body was being compacted by the weight around. Her ears creaked uncomfortably, she was completely blind in the black depths.

Still down they went- her arms were powerful flippers cutting through the water and creating her own current. Her blunt nose bumped against something. She nosed it, trying to use her one eye to see if it was the human child- the dark didn't bother her, but the cloud of sand was bothersome. It must be. She stole one moment to luxuriate in the water on her back and the feeling of millions of small lives above and below in the warm places and dark alcoves and the great forests of kelp.

And then Aiko was back, head screaming in pain. She latched her arms around the body in front of her- it had to be Gaara, his skin was incongruously hot in the chill water. She moved them.

They slopped against the sand with a grotesque sound. Right, not Suna- she moved them to tea country. Aiko let go of Gaara and rolled to her side, coughing up water. It came and came, painful in her lungs. Oh, Gaara was on his back- She scrambled to turn him over and pounded on his thin back. He shuddered- and then began to cough, convulsing in the scraggly grass.

She patted his back, and then pushed up to a sitting position. Aiko tried to wipe off her face. It didn't do much, but wringing out her hair made her feel a little better.

Gaara was shaking, edging away from her like a cornered animal. She let him. She drew her knees up to her chin and watched him.

Her heart twisted.

Aiko tried to look nonthreatening. "I didn't realize you would sink like that," she said. She made an apologetic face, trying to get eye contact. He wouldn't look at anything but her hands, watching for an attack. "I'm sorry. I meant it when I said I wouldn't hurt you. I wanted to neutralize the Ichibi in a more controlled setting," she apologized. It seemed like a time for honesty. "I made a mistake by taking you to the desert- I'm sure that made it more difficult for you. I'm sorry."

His mouth worked. "I don't want to die," Gaara rasped. It sounded painful. He was frozen in place. "I don't want to-"

"You're not going to," Aiko soothed. She lifted up to her knees and held a hand out like she was offering her scent to a skittish animal. He watched without flinching away. So she ran it across his back and then leaned in to wrap him in a hug. Shaking, he let her. "Shh, shh. It's alright, Gaara." She pressed her lips against his forehead, something burning in her chest at the people who had made him this fearful. This so easily could have been Naruto. Could have been her, in another world. She kissed his hairline, missing the love kanji by just a few centimeters. "I understand."

Gradually, in bits and pieces, he relaxed. His spine lost stiffness. His head leaned into her. One hand crept up onto her back, like he was imitating something he'd seen once. When he realized she wouldn't stop him he flung both hands out, digging bony fingers into her skin so hard that his hands were shaking.

It hurt. She let him and kept the grimace off her face, because she didn't want him to feel it. She bent her neck enough to nose into his hair. She sunk to rest her weight on her bent legs and half-gathered the genin onto her lap. He was light enough that it didn't take much work to do.

She really hated Sunagakure. She thought about how easy it would be- how a great wave would wash through the city and bring down buildings, washing the ants along their twisting streets, breaking their bodies against stone and washing them out into the desert for the pleasure of the many poisonous beasts.

The Ichibi answered her anger, a comprehending roar that felt like a clasped hand. Gaara opened his teeth against her shoulder, shaking. He latched on.

"This child is broken," Sanbi said, because he was actually the sane one present. "Some beasts are too dangerous to raise, Aiko."

Oh. Aiko came back to the moment, murderous fantasy ended by pain and the resurgence of responsibility. She cut off the Sanbi's chakra, winding down the codependent twine of fury that she'd been feeding. "No teeth," she said, keeping any judgment out of her tone. Gaara didn't know any better- violence was the only way he'd learned to interact with the world. He certainly didn't know what to do when someone who should know better encouraged his bijuu to act up. He was just a little boy.

His jaws relaxed, but he didn't let go. It felt like he was waiting for her to lash out at him in disgust or fear.

But, like, she'd had a mean cat before. She wasn't going to freak out about pointy little teeth, because that was never an effective response. "That's not how we use mouths, Gaara. Mouths are for eating, screaming, and kissing," Aiko decided. She made her point by dotting another kiss into his hair, complete with sound effect. "Be gentle."

Gaara let go and turned his face against the wound he'd made. His little cheek was warm against the blood.

It might not have been entirely well-adjusted, but she'd allow it for now.

"You're like me," he said, in a tone of wonder. His grip tightened possessively. "How?"

She rubbed at his bony spine. "There are nine of us," Aiko said. "You've had a rough time of it, haven't you?" She didn't let out the sigh she wanted, exhausted for his sake. "Your seal isn't good. That's why you have such a hard time controlling yourself." She frowned. "That and you've been treated badly." It took some willpower not to tighten her grip too much. "It's not your fault," she said viciously. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He gave a broken little laugh devoid of humor.

"You're perfect," she disagreed. She gave into the urge to pull him entirely onto her lap and rocked him. He wasn't small enough to curve into her body naturally, but he melted into her as if he wanted to merge into her body. He was touch-starved. Poor baby.

She'd decided against it earlier. It was not going to make her any friends. It could fuck her over on a grand scale. But Aiko made the offer.

"I want to take you home with me. Do you want to come?"

Gaara twisted back to stare, wild-eyed.

"You can say no," she soothed. "I'll take you wherever you want to go. You can go to Suna. You can go to your siblings- they do love you," Aiko added, because it was only fair. She knew they could eventually have a good relationship.

He swallowed. He twisted his fingers in her shirt. "Why do you want me?"

God, she wasn't equipped to talk about feelings like this, but a child shouldn't ask that.

"Because you deserve to be loved," Aiko said firmly. "I'll take care of you if you let me. I can keep you safe and I can try to fix your seal. You don't have to join Kirigakure. You can leave whenever you want. You can be a civilian." She stroked his back, feeling awkward. "Whatever you want."

His breathing was ragged. "Are they afraid of you?" Gaara demanded. His nails were ragged, they snagged on her clothes. His little face was a thundercloud. "The normal people in Kirigakure."

Aiko grimaced, because it would be dumb to lie. "A little?" she admitted. "It depends on the person. But that's a fair response to me, because I entered the village by killing the Mizukage." She paused. "The previous Mizukage, I'm the current one."

He stared. "You're a kage." His tone was too flat to read much into. Might have been shock, or it could be disapproval.

"It was kind of a surprise," Aiko said. "But when a friend urged me to declare my intentions, the senior jounin supported my bid." Sort of. That was a more generous interpretation of events, but not an entirely inaccurate one. She chewed on her lip. "I was the only candidate, really," Aiko admitted. "There were two other people with enough power to do the job, but one of them was regarded with suspicion for spending a lot of time as a deserter. And for loosing his bijuu on the city," she added in the interest of fairness. Gaara perked up. "And the other, Terumi Mei- have you heard of her? - she was leading an opposition group against the previous regime, but lost public confidence after a mission to eliminate a threat went south."

"They made a jinchuuriki their kage?" Gaara sounded incredulous, and a bit scornful. "It's just because they're afraid of you."

Aiko considered it. "In large part, yes. It is." She fidgeted. "But I'm also doing my best to do right by them, and we've got a lot of interesting programs going on in order to improve quality of life in the country. They'll get used to me."

'Or they'll kill me. There's always that. It is Kirigakure, after all. It's a proud tradition at this point.'

"Are you collecting jinchuuriki?" Gaara demanded. "Is that why you want me to come with you?"

She cocked her head at him. "Should I be?" Aiko asked mildly. "We tend to have shitty lives, and there are dangers out there that you don't even know about yet. I think we should stick together, especially if our countries choose to pursue idiotic policies that aren't in our best interests. I'll still have your back even if you return to Suna, as long as you want me to."

He considered this. "Temari knew you were a jinchuuriki."

What? It took her a moment to remember what he was talking about. But he was right. Aiko felt a grudging respect at how damn fast his mind was.

"You were in Sunagakure." Gaara sounded furious. "Why?"

She… wasn't following his train of thought. Why would that make him mad?

Aiko couldn't think of a reason not to respond with the truth. "I was fighting the three-tailed bijuu in the desert." She fidgeted her foot. "I suppose it's my habit to take my most dangerous opponents here. No bystanders and all."

He leaned back enough to give her an incredulous expression.

"It's convenient," Aiko defended. "You've seen my transportation technique. It makes sense."

Why did she feel so judged by a 13-year old?

"Perhaps it is because you fear his wisdom surpasses your own."

She very maturely did not tell either of them to shut their cake holes, but she did have a good idea that was tangentially related. It maybe wasn't very mature of her, but it was appealing. "I want cake for dinner. And coffee."

Gaara stared.

"If you come home with me you'll find out anyway," Aiko dismissed. "I just realized I want cake. I'm going to deserve it after the rest of the things I have to do." She leaned forward, encouraging him to move off her lap so she could stand. He was reluctant, so Aiko ended up hauling him with her. Gaara was more compliant when he realized she wasn't moving away from him, which almost made her feel guilty. "I'm not taking you back to the conflict in Konoha, sorry." She patted his head. Wow, his hair needed a good conditioner. He allowed the petting in what seemed like a state of mild shock. "You can go to Sunagakure or you can go wait at my house, but I'm not leaving you unsupervised in a war zone. Where are you going, kiddo?"

"What are you going to do?" He somehow made the question an accusation.

Aiko grimaced. She started running a hand over her sides, checking her equipment was in place and that water hadn't damaged anything. "Hopefully make sure that Orochimaru gets crushed into the dirt. And then try to trick the Hokage into giving me nice things." Kunai, check, ugh that storage seal with her hairpins in it might be salvageable? - oh, thank god, the waterproof case had protected the scroll with her new copies of Icha Icha in it. Thank god.

"Well, everything is alright, then," Sanbi said, voice absolutely poisonous. "You have your novels. We may die at peace."

Gaara's glower drew her attention back. "I don't follow."

Jeeze, eventually she was going to have to start taking that tone personally. Aiko sighed, mussing her hair. "Politics, kid." She sighed. "I'm not great at them but I've gotta try."

He looked completely unimpressed, and Aiko gave up. She really needed to get moving. "One last time, Gaara." She made her tone stern, but she was still petting his hair. "Where do you want to go?"

She returned to Konoha as quickly as she could, not doing more than tucking Gaara in a safe corner and making sure he had a snack before using hiraishin to return to the forest of death. From there, it took a few moments to decide where to go. She wanted to go check on her students, but… it really was more practical to try to endear herself to the Hokage.

So she glanced around, and found the biggest, baddest chakra expenditure going on at what appeared to be snake-y ground zero. Orochimaru's summons were causing plenty of damage, and he was at the epicenter. She ran past several fights with minimal guilt and went towards the higher ground, where the drama must be going down. They'd all be ok. Probably.

"They will certainly not be," Sanbi said, disapproving.

Aiko rolled her eyes and finished scaling the building, landing quietly at the far edge from the fighting. Her genin all had hiraishin anyway. If things were desperate, they could call on her.

'Are you saying you think I should go help them, instead of working towards my goals?'

Aiko immediately noticed that the barrier keeping the Hokage and the Snake Sannin isolated was powered by enough energy to heat the surrounding air and waft the stench of burning matter. That was interesting- the four Oto-nin supporting it from the inside must be formidable. And Orochimaru's trust in them was demonstrably strong- he expected them to hold the technique for as long as it took him to kill the Hokage. Why hadn't the Hokage attacked them? That should break the seal, right?

She didn't notice any sign that Orochimaru or the Hokage had noted her arrival, but they probably had.

"I don't care what you do," Sanbi said. "It is your persistence in dishonesty to which I object. To what purpose do you deceive yourself?"

An ANBU she didn't recognize turned his mask towards her, chakra flaring in hostile warning.

Aiko carefully splayed her hands at her side, just enough to show they were empty. Then she deliberately broke eye contact to examine the seal work in further detail. It was lit up, practically glowing in a way that made it possible, if not easy, to pick out some of the notations refracted along the domed edges. It was just a physical barrier, really, that contained the combatants in what appeared to be a dome, but must be an orb extending underground. That was all well and good, as long as you weren't dealing with anyone who could move themselves to another point by bypassing it. So. Her and Obito, really.

'It's powerful, but not worth learning, I think. Not for me, anyway.'

She'd never seen this fuuinjutsu, and she hadn't heard much about it either. The chuunin exams had been a particularly bad time in her life, in between Sakura's death and the encounter with Itachi not long after.

'I don't see Jiraiya anywhere.'

Unease stirred, but she brushed off the worry and made her way towards the ANBU maintaining a cordon around the area. Most were uniformed, but she made eye contact with Kakashi. His face was as hard as she'd ever seen, and he didn't disguise the displeased wariness at her approach. Aiko had the distinct impression that he was ready to kill her if she made a wrong move.

'Right. Mist-nin. Nobody trusts 'em.'

"This group would do more good combating the summons, don't you think?" she said in an undertone, not quite willing to draw much attention.

No one bothered to answer her.

Orochimaru was doing something, flashing through an ostentatious sequence of handsigns. His voice was muffled through the barrier in a way that distorted it, elongating vowels and eating up his quieter words.

It didn't look like the fight was going well for the Hokage, to be honest. She didn't remember hearing that he'd sustained serious injuries in this fight before Jiraiya intervened. Where was he?

'Maybe he's not here?'

Aiko closed her eyes against a sudden headache, because of course. Why was she still assuming that minor variables would play out the same way they had last time? She'd done something or not done something that had somehow lead to Jiraiya fighting elsewhere in the village, or maybe not even being present. Fuck, for all she knew he'd left the day he'd been done with Naruto's training.

That sounded exactly like Jiraiya, actually. Yeah. That's what he'd done.

"Is there a reason that no one is working to take down the seal barrier?"

When no one moved to respond, Aiko nearly elbowed Kakashi before remembering they didn't have that kind of relationship. She cleared her throat. "Hatake-san?"

A muscle jumped in his jaw. He didn't look away from the fight. "We've tried unsuccessfully. The Hokage ordered us to stop. He prefers Orochimaru be contained."

There was some logic to that. But..

She eyed the contestants. "The Hokage might not win. Orochimaru has had a long time to counter his teacher's repertoire and plan this confrontation." Somewhat diplomatically, she decided to leave off the more truthful, 'plus the Sandaime is older than dirt.'

There was a creak of leather. Her heart jumped, recognizing it as the sound of his gloves protesting the excessive force pushing them into fists.

'Okay then.'

She could… Was there any point to being here?

No, that was the wrong train of thought. What would happen if the Sandaime lost? She fought her knee-jerk reaction of now-misplaced loyalty -protect the Hokage, as a symbol if nothing else!- and considered Mist's benefit.

'If the Sandaime dies, his replacement is likely to be Tsunade. She's not as sympathetic to outsiders as he is. And how long would it take to convince her to take the job? The Council would be in charge in the meantime. Danzo, Utatane, Koharu… They'll probably still choose to ally with Mist rather than Sand as long as Sand is defanged, but they'll drive a hard bargain. And they're probably not going to be very forgiving about the fact that the Mizukage is in their country under false pretenses- the Sandaime might pretend to believe the polite fiction that I was instated after the Chuunin exams and so wasn't breaking any treaties. Danzo will cackle backwards into hell if he realizes he could litigate the Mizukage for trespassing, and I don't want to give him the satisfaction.'

So. It was in Mist's best interests for the Sandaime to survive. She could feel free to interfere, from a cost-benefits perspective.

Still, she wasn't exactly eager to face Orochimaru. Aiko bit her lip and narrowed her eyes in concentration. She held back, watching the smooth play of his muscles as he pushed the Hokage onto the defensive in taijutsu. She was damn good, but she didn't want to fight him that way. He was physically strong, but he was also fast and inhumanly flexible. She couldn't be certain enough that she would win that way.

'I'm faster than he is, but not so much faster that he can't hit me. He's clever. I have more chakra, and I have access to powerful techniques through the Rinnegan. But I would have to use the Rinnegan to face him for certain. The seal is reflecting sunlight back out- that means it's filtering. Inside that dome, it's darker. I can't afford anything less than 20/20 to face a Sannin.'

That was unfortunate. She didn't like making that public.

'But it could work psychologically in my favor for the fight, anyway. He worked for Akatsuki- he's met Pein. And he lost in a fight to Itachi: Orochimaru is definitely a lot weaker than Pein. The Rinnegan will probably freak him out.'

That thought was… oddly cheering, actually. She didn't stack up too badly against Pein, as long as he was surprised. So she was probably stronger than Orochimaru if you believed in that transitive property? But he was… he was just so slippery, in addition to being vastly more experienced than she was. Brute strength didn't guarantee victory against an opponent like that. She couldn't count that she would be able to kill him.

Could she live with that? Compromise by lowering her aim to driving him off, but letting him live with potentially harmful information about her abilities?

'I'm going to have to,' Aiko noted grimly. 'I don't know what he's doing now, but he looks smug about it. He's sure he's going to win.'

Fine. She'd need to misdirect him. Let him come to the wrong conclusions and conceal her abilities as much as possible.

She hovered a moment, long enough for- were those blurry shapes coffins? Orochimaru was summoning coffins? What was the point-

"Oh, fuck no," Aiko spat, ignoring the startled reactions from tense, tragically unhappy Konoha nin nearby as two of the three coffins cracked. They were marked with numbers- 1, 2, and 4. The first shinobi to come out was a shock, the second reinforced the depths of Orochimaru's depravity, but that last coffin-

That was her dad! It wasn't open but it had to be, oh god. That was- Orochimaru had-

had failed to resurrect him? Minato wasn't coming out of the last coffin- Orochimaru was gritting his teeth and pretending not to care. But the other Hokage were moving, iconic silhouettes that clashed with the initially rough movements they made stepping out of the coffins. Were they aware? They seemed to lack the control to so much as turn their heads. If it were her reincarnated in Konoha and being used as a puppet, she would wonder what was going on. So, like. They were probably minimally cognizant.

She should probably do something.

'At the very least, I should steal his thunder. He's about to say something really dramatic, I just know it. I would if I were him and he's at least as dramatic as me.'

Aiko flicked open her kunai pouch to drop one on the ground- and then quickly changed her mind. She had to use hiraishin to get in, but kunai were Minato's trademark. She didn't want to risk Orochimaru making a correct inference about her abilities.

The seals she had on her genin team were distant and troublesomely close together instead of in a neat triangle, so it took a moment of teeth-gritted concentration to correctly orient herself inside the barrier. She chose to stand in between the Sandaime and Orochimaru for maximum drama, casually pretending to examine her nails. Yeah, it was darker than she'd hoped.

"What?" An ANBU half-shouted. There was something she could only describe as a ringing in the air- like tapped glass. What was that- it wasn't a sound, it was chakra. Had she fucked up one of Orochimaru's jutsus? The barrier was a seal, it was entirely possible that her fuinjutsu had interfered with it in some way. So…. the barrier wasn't just to keep the fights separate or to be dramatic- Orochimaru had needed a carefully modulated environment for his jutsu. Sterile, in a way.

Belatedly, she realized something about the voices she was hearing outside the barrier.

Huh.

'The seal muffles only in one direction. I can hear them just fine.'

Well. Orochimaru probably hadn't wanted to miss any possible plotting going on outside the barrier, Aiko reasoned. She stuck her hands in her pockets to hide the nervous twitch they wanted to make towards the sword on her back. "Yo." She nodded towards the Sandaime. "Nice weather we're having."

'It's not that dark but I should turn on the Rinnegan no I should wait, that's my best intimidation tactic I need to wait-'

There was enough light to see that the three Hokage and Orochimaru were staring at her with what she supposed must be varying degrees of shock. She wondered what Kakashi was thinking. She didn't dare turn to look. She blinked slowly, which probably looked like sleepiness when it was more like an attempt to adjust to the lighting change.

'The Nidaime is definitely looking at me- that's inconsistent with what I noted earlier. That's what went wrong- I did something to Orochimaru's control of the Hokage. So that means there was multiple techniques at work- the revivification, and fuinjutsu-based control, probably? At least.'

When Orochimaru broke the silence, he was quiet and considered with the barest hint of a hiss under the civil tones. "How, I wonder, did you do such a thing?"

His voice felt like a ribbon sliding over her spine, towards her neck. Aiko shrugged and tried not to think about garrotes. "Is that inconceivable?" she asked, channeling Kakashi at his most irritating faux-boredom. She managed a pitying smile. "Your seals are… well, they're alright. Nothing to write home about."

'I could figure them out. Probably. If I had a month and nothing better to do. And collaboration with Jiraiya.'

The Snake Sannin was fast on the uptake, drawing an obvious connection between fuinjutsu and bijuu and Uzumaki. "I suppose you're to thank for the sudden disappearance of one of my tools. You killed the one-tailed jinchuuriki, didn't you?"

'Oh, no. Hands off my baby, I claimed that one. Holy shit, deflect, deflect I need to throw him off-'

She didn't know what she was going to do until she did it. Aiko patted the sealing scroll fastened against her right thigh, which carried a rather unsubtle implication. "You know, they used to keep that one in a teapot?" She managed to bare her teeth- it wasn't a grin, but that hopefully wouldn't ring any bells as she desperately spun a web of bullshit. "Yet another point goes to me, who remains better than everyone else everywhere. Does being inadequate ever make you sad?" She managed a real grin that time, because she was pretty fucking great.

"You could bluff," Sanbi suggested. "frighten him, and let him take the scroll in a scuffle. If he thinks he has a valuable prize, he will be less reluctant to cut his losses on this venture."

Unacceptable.

'No. Absolutely not, fuck you, fuck that, fuck him. Orochimaru can't have my porn.'

Sanbi sighed.

From the direction of his pale, pale face, Aiko thought Orochimaru was looking at the scroll that did not actually have any bijuu in it. Before he could say anything else, he was interrupted.

The first Hokage had a boyish laugh, light and easy. "You must be an Uzumaki," he declared fondly. "Am I right?"

Aiko considered him for a moment, and then managed a short nod.

Then he noticed her headband. He managed to look puzzled in her blurry vision, mouth opening in a question she really didn't want to be the one to answer- and then Orochimaru seemed to strengthen his grip on the Hokage, long fingers twitching. The first Hokage's mouth clicked shut. He gave Orochimaru a resentful stare.

'Well, at least that saved me from having to open the whole 'UZUSHIOGAKURE IS A SMOKING HOLE IN THE GROUND' topic.'

"I wonder…" Orochimaru trailed off. And the Nidaime leapt at her, electric chakra sparking on a short blade that he held across his body. He slashed, but she was kicking off against the dome several feet away. He pivoted instantly, orienting towards- what? Her scent? Was he sensing her chakra? Or was it the fact that she was still in Orochimaru's range of vision? On her next dodge, Aiko tested the hypothesis by moving out of Orochimaru's vision. She was close enough to one of the sound nin to hear his surprised grunt.

And-yes. Tobirama turned towards her quickly enough for an S-class nin with reflexes of storied speed, but she thought the move lacked the preternatural immediacy of his earlier maneuver.

'He used the Hiraishin before dad did,' Aiko remembered. 'Tobirama might actually be as fast as I am, if Orochimaru can make him use it. He certainly has the reflexes that it encourages.'

She couldn't be blatant about using the hiraishin- if anyone recognized it in a different form from Minato's, it would be Senju Tobirama.

'That's fine. They know I'm an Uzumaki. So this technique-'

Aiko turned midair to watch the Hokage hurtling towards her instead of looking to her next landing. His eyes widened in comprehension too early for her tastes- and he twisted to kick away from her chakra chains against the chains themselves, managing to evade the grab she made at his left ankle. And just like that, they'd changed roles. Aiko whipped to the side, helping her chains chase after him and-

'Incoming!'

Shit, she couldn't dodge one Hokage and chase another! But she didn't have to. Something intercepted the first Hokage midair, batting him away. She didn't have time to wonder what the Sandaime had done- it had to have been him, though.

Tobirama had managed to move far enough away to buy time to flash through handsigns she didn't know and come at her again despite the chains. No- not despite, he was aiming for-

Aiko dissolved her weapon hastily, heart pounding. She had no idea what he was going to do, but she suspected she didn't want it to happen. He was a seal master too, wasn't he?

He shook off his jutsu quickly enough that he might have predicted her response, and now she had no time to dodge the sword he was bringing down at her head. Aiko edged her feet apart and whipped her sword up barely before he brought down his blade. It clashed, hitting at an angle that made her teeth ache and her arms held for a moment but he had the better position and she couldn't hold, she couldn't hold-

'He's too strong.'

She turned her blade and let his force help speed the twist and roll of her body, darting past and behind him. He lead with his blade as he turned, making a horizontal swipe.

It came close enough to biting through her forehead that Aiko felt a thrill of fear like nothing she'd had before. She'd never- a fight like this was-

She hiraishined to his other side, by his right leg where the back of his head was now facing, solely because that was out of the natural dodging direction she'd had before. He'd need a moment to re-orient. She didn't give it to him- she didn't have time to summon a more damaging jutsu.

So Aiko only made a desperate lunge with her sword to savage his leg. Her angle was bad- it slid in the back of his right thigh to the bone, but the far tip reached just a bit too far and glanced off the armor protecting the back of his left knee. She twisted and kicked, meaning to swipe his legs out from under him and tumble him to the dirt. It should have been easy- he should have been disabled and unstable from her blow. She knocked him off-balance, it was true, but he jumped up and over her kick instead of falling. And-

pain. She controlled her fall, hurriedly flinging her blade away because the way she was falling it was going to impale her and she couldn't change her hold fast enough.

She skidded against the ground, kicking up dust. Tobirama was coming at her again with one arm out as if he'd just thrown something, and holy shit, what was this man made of that he didn't feel pain-

He stopped midair, caught on chakra strings she couldn't see. She considered being ill, but she couldn't take her eye off the weapon to see what was Sasori doing. Would the next blow come from the side or-

Orochimaru gave an evaluative hum.

Right.

Orochimaru.

Not Sasori. Not puppets. Not really.

Aiko swallowed. She flipped her bangs out of her face. She tried to look impassive as she straightened to a normal standing position and glanced over at the snake sannin. He was standing with crossed arms, the fingers of his right hand against his lips. Something moved in his throat.

Her right hip was aching. Cracked- it had to be cracked from the force of the puppet's- of Tobirama's hit- and how had he done that? She hadn't seen.

'Well. He is a kage. They tend not to fuck around.'

Actually. She was a kage too, wasn't she?

'We. We tend not to fuck around. I am also a bad ass. I can do this. I don't need to panic.'

She stood a little straighter.

"Well." Orochimaru sighed heavily. "How embarrassing."

There was an awkward quiet. Aiko risked a glance around the dome and wondered what the hell had happened in the last four seconds. Five seconds ago, things had been good. Or okay, maybe. Funny how it all changes so fast.

The Sandaime wasn't about to answer, posture cautious and muscles trembling with the force needed to hold back the first Hokage. Well. He'd had a long time to get used to Orochimaru. He probably knew as well as she did that it was a verbal trap of some sort.

There was no way to answer that that wouldn't make her look like an idiot when Orochimaru finished his statement, was there? She remained stubbornly silent for a moment before she remembered that she actually didn't have a reason, besides pride, to try to seem cooler than Orochimaru. She unstuck her jaw and took the bait. "What is?"

His eyes glinted. "I don't even know your name, Mizukage-sama. I'm terribly sorry."

'Okay, how did he-'

The Sandaime Hokage bit out, "What is this foolishness? Uzumaki-san isn't even from Kirigakure."

Aiko rolled her eyes and tapped at her headband. No one paid the least bit of attention.

Orochimaru gave the old man a pitying look. "You poor old fool. I'd heard that the new kage was a woman and a seal master…" He inspected her. "I must admit, I expected Terumi-san simply had abilities I had not heard of, rather than the existence of a new party. As I said, how embarrassing. No wonder my letters have gone unanswered. It is rather rude to address them to the wrong person."

"Yes, that's the reason," Aiko said dryly. "My feelings are hurt."

'He didn't actually send letters. Right? That's just banter? Because otherwise someone was keeping important information from me.'

She… wasn't actually sure. Orochimaru was a complicated person. He might have thought it would be beneficial. Or maybe just that it would be funny. S-class shinobi tended to be strange.

"Pity." Orochimaru tilted his head, letting silken hair fall to the side. "You need not align your lot with this dying village. Konoha has never been a friend of Kirigakure. I am certain that our differences need not impede a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Aiko rolled her eyes, because she wasn't stupid enough to ally with Orochimaru, especially after she'd gotten in his way. He wasn't famed for his forgiving heart. When she opened her eyes, they were Rinnegan.

It was completely satisfying to see the way Orochimaru went still in her perfect vision.

That caution was an overreaction, really. Obito had taught her quite a few good-utility B and A level jutsu, but nothing she'd turn against a sannin outside a spar. She could summon powerful animals that she could not control, call for the powerful burning chakra of Susanoo that would roast the Sandaime alive with a distressing amount of witnesses if she tried the technique in this confined space, or summon the death god to revive someone, how useful in a fight-

Wait.

She wouldn't have had the thought if she hadn't been facing revived souls. But.

'Does the death god take souls too?'

…She had no idea. But Orochimaru probably didn't either.

Aiko gave the surroundings a pointed look. "It's hard to deny that you're a great and loyal friend to have, as I stand here in your hometown. But if I may respectfully offer an alternate proposal: you can go straight to hell. Now, I think."

'Oh my god, I sound like a cartoon villain. Give up, hero, I've come for your girlfriend. All shall weep and despair.'

"What?" the Sandaime muttered, but she was whipping through handsigns and slamming her palms into the ground. Orochimaru's face was bloodless, pale with fury and just enough uncertainty for her to work with.

The god of death blossomed from the ground, pushing his way up until his head brushed the dome. One of the Oto-nin screamed- it might have been fright, but from the bright sparks dancing along the domed seal to his hands, Aiko thought it was pain. There was a ruckus outside from the gathered observers.

'I really hope this works.'

She turned her gaze towards Orochimaru. Their eyes met- he was terrified. Aiko felt a genuine thrill at the power she had over such a man, even if it was contingent on a guess and superstition. "Kami-sama," she began. "I want you to-"

Orochimaru flung a blade into the back of his closest bodyguard and leapt out the resulting opening in the seal. The two dead Hokage fell without his support, clay faces cracking even as the second Hokage started to say something undoubtedly mocking to Orochimaru's fleeing back.

Kakashi immediately bounced after the traitor, followed by four ANBU. The others spilled into the dome. Two of the remaining sound-nin were dead before they had a chance to disengage from the jutsu. The last snarled in the face of the man who killed her before she fell.

"Oh, thank god," Aiko muttered. She slumped. She'd really been hoping he wouldn't stick around to call her bluff.

"Yes?" The god of death prompted, tone as even as ever.

She glanced around in a quick survey- the Sandaime was alive and mostly uninjured, the other Hokage were properly dead again, and she wasn't going to spend precious chakra to try to raise any theoretical Konoha dead she didn't see without prompting. "Nothing. Just wanted to say hi. You can go now." She waved him off with a deep bow.

There was a sense of a glower. She couldn't help but notice that his right arm twitched toward her -And that it was nearly freed from the ground: she could see his wrist.

'When I first summoned him, he only appeared up to his neck,' Aiko remembered. 'I… I should definitely stop summoning him. I don't think I want to know why he's coming up further every time, or what would happen if his hands were free.'

The Sandaime cleared his throat and waved off the medic nin who was trying to do something about the bleeding on his chest. "Well. The weather's not terrible, but I prefer some cloud cover."

"What?"

He lifted one eyebrow, patiently waiting for comprehension from the slow youngling.

Aiko blinked and waited for the world to make sense.

Then she remembered. Oh. Right. The only thing she'd said to him had been some smart-assed comment about the weather, hadn't it been?

'It's only been a couple of minutes since I came into the seal barrier,' Aiko realized. And the death god wasn't leaving. Why wasn't he leaving? He'd never lingered before.

She snorted, shaking her head slightly. "Think it's going to rain? I might have to borrow an umbrella."

The Sandaime eyed her up. "I think you might have to borrow a hospital room. Tobirama-sensei broke something when he took that scroll."

What.

She glanced down, dreading what she was going to see. Ah. That… explained some things. The scroll with her new Icha Icha in it was gone. Orochimaru- he'd eaten it when she'd looked away, hadn't he?

Ugh. She was never going to get to read that damn book, was she? Fuck- first sand, now Orochimaru. What was wrong with these people? "Why don't I get to have nice things?" she asked the world at large. "I'm a good person."

Sanbi snorted.

"Fuck you!"

That was when her leg buckled under, taking her down with it. Her knee hit the roof and pain spiked up, white-hot.

She would have liked to wallow in self-pity. But the god spoke up in a voice that shook her bones because he was inconsiderate like that.

"That person who stole souls from my realm," the death god began contemplatively. He paused. "Kill him, and discover by what means he has perpetuated these crimes."

Aiko balked.

'He's talking? He talks? And he gives orders. This is new and horrible. I do not feel confident enough to tell him to fuck off.'

Sanbi hissed, "Do not tell a god to fuck off!"

'I wasn't going to!'

Aiko swallowed. "We might learn something by looking at the corpse that he failed to revive?" she tried, because she really did not want to have to hunt down Orochimaru. There were risks worth taking, and then there was being a stupid jackass. Trying to corner Orochimaru felt like a sharp detour into dumbassery. "Try that?"

The death god cast a baleful eye over at the closed coffin. "What mortal is it?"

She struggled back to her feet, ignoring the hand that the Sandaime offered. Aiko staggered over to the coffin and resentfully stared at the kanji on the outside. She'd been too panicked to fully consider it earlier, but… "Either the yondaime Hokage or the yondaime Kazekage." Both were possible. One would have been readily available, the other a psychological coup. She had her suspicions as to which Orochimaru would have chosen. But she would prefer not to find out.

"Open it."

There was absolutely no room for disagreement in that tone, so Aiko steeled herself. She braced her weight on the side of the coffin with her left and tried to force the lid open with her free hand.

It didn't move, but there were outraged protests from the peanut gallery that she duly ignored.

She heaved again. It creaked a little, which was encouraging.

"Would you like some help with that?" the Sandaime asked, sounding uncertain.

Aiko waved him off, frowning. "No, I can get this." She gave one last heave and then gave up on that. She shifted to lean her good hip against the coffin to free up her hand and then called up Sen Tsurara. She then proceeded to smash into the coffin's lid, skimming across in a way that destroyed the lock and a lot of the bulk of the door before her jutsu fizzled out. With a grunt, Aiko levered the splintered mess open. She peered past the mess. Her head was curiously empty.

"Yondaime Hokage," she reported. God… Just, fuck.

He was taller than she remembered, alien stiffness in features that had been reconstructed from clay or… something. How had Orochimaru done that? Make a facsimile, certainly. But how had it been infused with enough of Minato's essence to theoretically be capable of his jutsu, to use his chakra, to contain his being? What had gone wrong with this one that had worked with the other two hokage?

"Touch it."

She hesitated at that. It felt ghoulish. It wasn't her father's corpse but it was, it really was.

"Uzumaki."

Aiko jerked to obey, poking her index finger against Minato's nose. At the instant that she touched the cold face, Sanbi leapt to awareness. "No!" he howled.

If he said anything else, she couldn't hear it over the roaring in her ears and the energy flooding out of her. Her world lit up in red and it burnt- that wasn't the death god's work, that was Sanbi? Sanbi was forcing his chakra through her much more violently than he had in the water. Aiko screamed, body frozen into place. She couldn't move, she couldn't stop it, she was just a conduit for the electricity passing through and scorching her skin on the way out.

It stopped. She latched on to the splintered mess she'd made of the coffin. Her fingers were bleeding for some reason. Aiko panted and trembled. Her legs wanted to give out.

Someone cleared their throat. Right in front of her. Aiko looked up and disbelievingly made eye contact. With her dad. Her dad. Right there. Being all dadly and stuff.

Minato looked really and truly confused.

The death god spoke up, irritated. "You there, mortal. Has this Orochimaru risen you from my realm before? Tell me of his process."

Minato blinked. "Uh. Hello." His brow furrowed. "K-kami-sama?" He tried to bow in the confined space. "Um. Ah. No, sorry, I don't know anything about this. I was just doing-" his eyes darted to the death god and then respectfully away- "things that dead people do, and then I was here. The last time I was in the mortal world was the day I died." He fidgeted. "Obviously, I mean, that's how it works. You're only in the mortal world if you're alive, and I was definitely not ali-"

"Minato-san," Aiko interrupted, feeling just a bit hysterical.

He focused on her. "Aiko-chan?"

What.

His tone lilted up a little in hope, like he thought she was going to give him an explanation. But that one word had just fucked up so much for her that she did not want to help him. At all.

'If I was never born here, why does he know me? Why is everything terrible, why does nothing make sense?'

Every fiber of her being absolutely revolted against contemplating this. It only lead to madness. "Minato-san," she said again, trying desperately to establish distance and a foothold on a world that had made sense. He nodded. "Please shut the fuck up."

He made an offended sound.

The ground shook. Aiko and Minato both jerked to stare at the god, who was intensely displeased. His enormous mouth was a flat line.

Aiko felt her spine straighten. She was holding her breath.

There was a boom that shook the building they were standing on. Silently, resentfully, the god gave her one last meaningful look- and then he was gone.

She swallowed.

Minato took the moment to stare out around the area, clearly dazed and disoriented by all the damage and fighting visible in the distance. Someone was crying not too far away, the kind of contained little gasps that would shake your shoulders but not lead to tears. Probably all the dead people walking around were a bit traumatizing for career soldiers. She'd found it creepier at some point, hadn't she? She vaguely remembered that horror about the unnatural, though she felt distant from it. Aiko scanned the crowd, but couldn't pick out who it was.

The Sandaime was bending to murmur something to a group of four ANBU. One peeled off at high speed in the direction that Orochimaru had gone- the other three split and began talking to the jounin milling around. Gai had shown up at some point, as well as a passel of other senior shinobi. Yamanaka Inoichi was giving Aiko a deeply unimpressed look, arms crossed with such force that his fingers were white.

Minato cleared his throat.

She turned to look at him.

He raised an eyebrow.

Feeling incredibly old and tired, Aiko lifted one shoulder and gave her best 'fuck if I know' expression.

He seemed to get her meaning. Minato sighed. "I know what you mean." He rubbed at his temple, inadvertently making a mess of his hair. "So, ah. Am I just… not dead anymore? Is that what's happening now?"

"Apparently," Sanbi said, in a tone that was absolutely acid. "Feel free to cut off the obscene chakra drain of your eyes at any time. Regrettably, my earlier impulse was to keep you alive. I have never met such a waste of chakra as you, you insolent ridiculous little dirt person."

Oh. That's what had happened. The god had used her to raise Minato… Yeah. She definitely did not have enough chakra for that.

Her chest felt tight. 'I knew you were warming up to me. You saved my ass twice today. That's statistically significant.'

"Hardly," Sanbi grumped. "Had I contemplated it, I assure you that I would have chosen the oblivion of a hundred years of unconsciousness and an ignominious reentry to the world over being trapped in your foolish skin."

"Aiko-chan?" Minato frowned slightly. He rubbed at his face. "Ah. You've got a little something…"

She gave him an ugly look, because obviously she knew. She didn't bother to swipe at the blood under her eyes.

He showed her his palms. "I was just saying." He fidgeted. "So…"

Aiko watched him struggle for words, and her irritation melted into exhaustion. He looked so young. He wasn't much older than she was- he'd died at 28. Holy shit, he was only two years older than this version of Kakashi.

That thought led to an unpleasant realization.

'Oh my god, no. Kakashi is going to come back. I cannot deal with how he's going to react to this. I need to leave. I need to get out of here.'

The Sandaime took a few steps closer, cautious but clearly hopeful. He was keeping his body between Minato and the jounin. He wore a pleasant expression. "Minato-san," he greeted.

Minato bowed back, smiling faintly. "Sandaime-sama," he responded. "It is truly a pleasure to see you again."

"Dear boy, the pleasure is all mine." He was clearly watching for Minato's body language to shift into aggression, but he didn't look tense at all. He glanced over at Aiko, probably feeling her stare. His mouth was upturned, and the wrinkles around his eyes bent the right way. But his eyes were cold.

She offered a weak smile.

"Minato-san, do you know Uzumaki-san?" The Sandaime nodded to her. "You seem quite familiar with each other."

Minato was very, very still. He slowly turned his head to look at Aiko, at the Sandaime, at the crowd. She could almost see the wheels turning. "Yes," he said slowly. "You don-" he cut himself off, and gave a sheepish smile, eyes squeezed closed. "She was much younger when I last saw her, that's for sure."

'Either 14 or less than a day, depending on how you count the chronology,' Aiko thought. She tried to catch her dad's gaze, but he wasn't looking at her. 'At least he hasn't said anything disastrous. He has some discretion. And implying he knew me as a small child can kind of excuse the inappropriate honorific. Because otherwise the obvious explanation is an affair, and that's too gross to contemplate.'

"So true, Minato-san.." She cleared her throat and gave her dad the sunniest smile she could muster. "It was lovely seeing you, we should do this again sometime." Blood was sticking her collar to her skin. "But you know, it's getting late, and I've got a bit of a walk home. I should really be going." She gave a perfunctory little bow, trying to back away.

"To Kirigakure?" Minato asked, sounding pained. "When did that happen? Wait." He shook his head and stepped out of the coffin, giving it an unsettled glance on the way. "I have a more relevant question. You're not a Konoha ninja." It was half a question. It was a fair question, from his perspective. Incredibly reasonable.

"Well-spotted," Aiko bit out, as if it was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. She tried to infuse as much scorn as humanly possible into the word so that no one contemplated that too deeply.

Minato just nodded, brow furrowing. "Yes. That's- well." He shook his head. "Then what are you doing here?" He straightened officiously. "I'm going to need to interview you about your intentions before you leave."

Aiko gaped. She just stared, mouth open. The fuck. What the fuck. "You're-" she struggled for words. "I am here legally-" wait, no. "I- I was so helpful-" mostly? Yeah, she'd been fairly helpful. "You asshole," she hissed. That one she could fully commit to.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "That's probably all true," Minato said, in an incredibly doubtful tone. Because he was an asshole. "But I couldn't help but notice that the situation is strange. And high-level shinobi in Konohagakure are a matter for concern."

"Is this person a danger, Minato-san?" the Sandaime asked sharply.

Her traitorous dad gave a sad little shrug. "If she wants to be?" he tried. He looked a bit guilty. "I mean no offense, Aiko-san. You are a good person and an exemplary shinobi. I have nothing but respect for you."

'It does not feel that way. It feels like you're fucking with me. Everyone is fucking with me.'

The Sandaime made a sound of comprehension. "An exemplary shinobi who is working for Kirigakure," he completed dryly. "I see." He seemed to stare right through Aiko. "If my wayward student was correct, you are in fact the Godaime Mizukage."

"What." Minato sounded bluntly shocked, and like a bit of an idiot, to be honest.

"I was about to say that he says that the way you do when you have been taken by surprise," Sanbi commented, pleased.

Aiko gave her dad the shittiest look she could manage, because she hated everyone and everything at the moment.

'Just. Just fucking say something, asshole. I'm begging you.'

"Are you speaking to me?"

'Him, you idiot. Any. All.'

Minato groaned. He closed his eyes. "Probably," he said without looking at either of them. "You probably are the Mizukage. I don't know why I didn't predict that. That's the most predictable thing you could do."

"There was no way you could have predicted that," Aiko shot back, oddly offended. She crossed her arms, feeling she'd lost the plot entirely. "And this is bullshit that I don't have to deal with." She bared her teeth- a wasted gesture, with Minato's eyes still closed. "Do you think that you'll really be able to keep me here if I don't want to be?"

The Sandaime made a sound that might have been a laugh. It might also have been a sob.

Minato put a hand on his face. "Probably not," he admitted. It sounded exceptionally stupid with his palm pressed against his lips. He cracked one eye open. "But I think that you need Konohagakure, or you wouldn't be here. And you like me reasonably well." He made a face. "This isn't fair at all. The last time we met, you were upset with me for not taking you seriously. And now you're angry that I'm acknowledging you?"

"He has a good point." Sanbi sounded too cheerful about that. "I like this human. He upsets you. Who is he?"

Aiko wanted to stomp her foot. She wanted to scream. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Uzumaki-san?" the Sandaime prompted. "Will you please join us for a few questions, after this situation has been resolved?"

She shrieked and threw her hands up. She whirled as dramatically as possible with one leg in excruciating pain, and began to hobble away. It was not fun, it was probably not a good idea. She should hiraishin, except was Minato going to give that away if he saw it?

The Sandaime made an odd sound in his throat.

"That's a yes," Minato said from behind her, not quietly enough.

"Yes," Aiko said, biting out the word with vicious hate, because hiis assessment had been good and she needed to work with him. "You take care of your shit. I'm going to get my puppies, and then I have to go get cake. And then we can talk."

"Puppies, talk, and then cake," Minato countered sternly.

"Fuck you," Aiko said with feeling. The feeling was mostly pain, her body was screaming at her and she was shaking. "Fuck you, and fuck your cake twice."

"Get her puppies- students," Minato corrected. She didn't turn to see who he was ordering around. "Bring them to the third-"

"Fourth," the Sandaime corrected.

"The fourth conference room," Minato continued smoothly. "You, escort the Mizukage to the hospital before our meeting. I'll go check on Orochimaru, and Sandaime-sama, secure the…" He trailed off, as it became clear that he didn't really know what was going on.

"The stadium," the Sandaime agreed. "It's the Chuunin exams."

"Really?" Minato sounded pleasantly surprised. "Is Naruto-"

"Kill me now," Aiko said, very quietly, as she put her foot down and everything hurt.

Yamanaka Inoichi, who had apparently been told to take her to the hospital, snorted. It might have been commiserating. He offered her his arm.

She gave it an offended look. She didn't want help. She didn't want their stupid hospital room. Okay, she did, but she didn't want to be told to go there.

"Aiko." Her dad sounded absolutely done. He gave her a stern look, and then continued giving out orders to rapidly dispersing ANBU as the Sandaime left.

Her jaw clenched, because he was right that her physical well-being trumped her pride.

'If I'm choosing my comfort over my pride, then I might as well actually be comfortable. I should not be walking at all.'

So when she turned to Inoichi, she wrapped one arm around his neck and grabbed at his shirt with the other. He caught on quickly enough not to overbalance when she rested all her weight along that arm and lifted her feet off the ground so that he had to princess carry her.

He gave her a shocked and confused look, as though he wasn't quite certain he understood how she'd gotten to be in his arms.

Aiko raised an eyebrow and dared him to comment. She dared.

He did not dare, as it turned out. Inoichi sighed and bounced once to shift her in his grip, and then he carried her all the way to the hospital.

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #clarity #AIC #Aiko in Canon

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rrrrinmaru · 3 years

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welcome to the ballroom (artem x mc)

wc: 1k rating: G

“I wouldn’t suggest this if there were any other way. They’ve been asking about Artem and his new partner that’s rumoured to trail after him like a small duckling.” Seeing the expression on your face, Vyn hides the smile curling at his lips. “Their words, not mine. But their curiosity has been piqued.”

“I guess... well, it’s not like we could have hid it for much longer,” you murmur. Artem may not be as high profile as Marius, but the title of youngest senior attorney in Stellis carries a certain sort of fame. The rich are always on the lookout for lawyers to add to their entourage, ready to employ them at a moment’s notice. And with Artem taking on a partner—a protege, rather—the eyes slowly turned on you.

Marius knocks his shoulder against yours, winking at you. “Not to worry, jiejie. I’m invited as well. Of course, I can’t publicly be seen consorting with the talented Mr. Wing, but I can keep an eye on the both of you to make sure no one tries anything funny.”

Artem coughs. Marius ignores Artem and leans in to whisper, “I’ll help you prepare for the event. What colour do you like?”

You roll your eyes at him. As if Marius has to ask. The man has your shoe size memorised and likely has a whole file worth of designs that are tailored just for you.

“I’ll help her prepare for the event,” Artem says abruptly. “Because we’re... partners, right? We have to wear complementary outfits.”

You blink, a little taken aback by his sudden input. “Sure. That would be nice.”

Artem’s facial expression doesn’t change, but you can see the tension slide off his shoulders. You tilt your head, peering at him in confusion—he’s acting strange today, but you can’t put your finger on it. Perhaps he’s unnerved from having to take you around the opulent get-together arranged only by the richest of Stellis. If you made a mistake, it’ll reflect badly on him and Themis Law Firm.

You nod to yourself, vowing to carefully study up on etiquette and ballroom dancing. It’s unclear whether you’ll have to sit down for a meal and do a round on the dance floor at the occasion, but it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. You can’t afford to put Artem’s good name at risk.

When you look back up, you see Artem quickly looking away from you.

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

You have a week until the event starts. Learning etiquette is easy enough—you make sure to dedicate an hour a day to watch tutorials on the subject, and you quickly learn enough to pass muster. The number of forks and knives and different variations in utensil placement on your plate give you a headache, but Kiki helps in your last minute preparation as she reads out from the cheatsheet you wrote up.

The dress is... out of your hands. Artem stopped by your table one day, holding out three different color swatches and asking for your opinion on them. Navy blue, midnight blue, and a deep, rich black—you peered at them in confusion for a moment, unsure of what deep meaning they held. Eventually, you picked the midnight blue out, unconsciously thinking it would be a nice complement to Artem’s bright blue eyes. He nodded, looking incredibly solemn, and left just as suddenly as he arrived.

It took you a long while to realise what that meant. You almost dropped your coffee as Kiki rambled on about the new law drama she was watching, with the dreamy Kanon as the lead actor, when the realisation hit you. Artem did seem strangely eager to help decide the outfit you would wear to the event.

Well, as long as he was happy. You have faith in Artem’s artistic sense, and if all else fails, it’s not like Marius will let you walk out in an outfit he didn’t approve of. If the boys wanted to plan your every accessory, you wouldn’t stop them.

It was kind of cute, almost, watching them work together.

Regardless, the etiquette was settled. The dress was settled. You had a sleek pair of black stilettos perfect for every occasion, so the shoes were settled as well.

Your current concern is ballroom dancing.

As if a god out there is watching over you, you find yourself in the same elevator as Artem after lunch break.

“I have a question,” you murmur under your breath, keeping your eyes on the slowly ascending number so you don’t have to look him in the eye. “Do you know how to dance? Ballroom dancing, I mean.”

Artem jolts. From the corner of your eye, you can see the way his gaze slants towards you, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Are you worried about having to dance?”

“I’m not not worried,” you confess. “I’ve never been to such an event. I checked online, and every article written about the past events hosted by those clients have pictures of guests dancing. I’ve never waltzed in my life.”

“It’s not hard to learn,” Artem says quietly. “You just need a good teacher.”

“So you do know how to dance.” You turn around, looking at him curiously. You’re surprised, but the surprise feels like an afterthought. It feels like this new fact you’ve learned about Artem is a missing puzzle piece, slotting neatly into the empty space at the centre of the puzzle. It feels like some part inside of you expected him to know how to waltz. It feels like a victory, guessing this right.

His brows soften. Artem takes a step closer. The lift suddenly turns extremely narrow. The two of you weren’t standing that far apart to begin with, but now his presence is overwhelming, that faint sandalwood scent surrounding you.

You almost ask him for his cologne brand. At the last minute, you hold your tongue.

“Are you free this Friday evening? I’ll teach you a simple waltz before the event.”

You originally had plans with Kiki to watch Kanon shout OBJECTION! across the courtroom on her new holographic TV.

“I’m free,” you tell him. “I’ll head over after work.”

Artem breaks into a smile. “No need. I’ll wait for you. We can head over to my house together.”

-=-

a/n: two things—(a) i wrote the part before the “read more” before i played the card story for artem’s ssr where you go to the reception and see kanon... the similarity... mhy hire me when? (b) i’m planning a part 2... maybe?

#tears of themis imagines #tears of themis #tears of themis artem #tears of themis marius #artem x reader #artem wing #zuo ran #artem imagines #artem wing x reader #zuo ran imagines #zuo ran x reader #zuo ran x mc #rin writes tot #tot fanfic #tot imagines #tot headcanons #tears of themis fanfic #tears of themis headcanons #artem fanfic

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nadiadlc · 2 years

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more entrapdak post canon headcanons (what a canon mouthful) part two!

- now that a couple of years have passed after the show, they have all finished repairing etheria, and I mean physically. some people are still stubborn and aren’t the biggest fans of the clones + hordak just wandering around BUT YOU KNOW WHAT THEY JUST HAVE TO SUCK IT UP BUDDY.

- most of the clones have resided in dryl for the obvious acceptance from entrapta and plus it appearing as a barren queendom.

- and some of the clones just followed hordak there, like little ducklings and now he can’t just get rid of them (much to his distaste and dismay)

- but I figured that entrapta would welcome any clone that would like to even reside the castle (if they would like) since it IS sooo big, so she doesn’t mind as long as they help her with stuff around there

- safe to say there’s like… more than 100 clones running around the castle now, don’t know how, they just appeared and they all have the stupidest cutest names, like the first word they heard after learning they’re free they’re like “that’s me :)”

- safe to say hordak is not as keen as entrapta to spend time with his brothers (he gives the biggest ‘why aren't i an only child?’ vibe) but entrapta eases him into it!

- he has ‘family days’ where he’s forced to have outings with them and entrapta is like “you’re fineee, you’re gonna have funnn!!!” all while kissing his cheek and ushering him out of their sanctum toward the awaiting clone entourage awaiting him

- and yes every time they are out someone always ends up breaking some law and it’s hilarious

(OKAY SHORT TANGENT BEFORE WE GET INTO ENTRAPDAK SHENANIGANS. WANNA KNOW WHAT GRINDS MY GEARS??? HOW WE NEVER REALLY KNOW WHAT HORDAK’S DEFECT IS, LIKE ALL WE KNOW IT MADE PRIME KICK HIM OUT TO THE STREETS AND THAT ITS DETERIORATING HIS BODY BUT THE DEFECT APPARENTLY WASN'T THAT BAD CAUSE PRIME LET HIM BACK IN?? AND THEN THEY NEVER SAY SHIT WHAT IT REALLY IS AT ITS CORE. AND THEY THOUGHT I WOULDN'T NOTICE WELL I DID SHE RA CREW I NOTICED, Y'ALL THOUGHT U COULD DISTRACT ME WITH FINALE SHIT BUT I WASN'T FOOLED WHAT IS MY MANS DEFECT WHAT THE FU- )

- now that the two have finally finished their work, they're so excited to work together officially! without supervision!

- I mean they both worked on things while rebuilding, helping each other but never physically, and they missed each other,

- at first when they started rebuilding plans the rebellion offered entrapta kadroh as a sub lab partner- long story short, hordak was NOT a fan of that idea and as nicely as possible said no

- he was like “oh how UNFORTUNATE, truly unfortunate, but entrapta already HAS a lab partner, ME. And WE really need to get to WORK. SO IF YOU'LL EXCUSE US-'' and just imagine him pushing between kadroh and entrapta while pushing him as far as possible from him and his lady

- I’d like to think entrapta is so excited to finally be back with her lab partner (now turned partner!) that she is up all hours of the night working more then ever just cause she’s so ecstatic !

- it gets to a point where she does not care for herself but do not fret! hordak makes sure she takes care of herself, sometimes he picks her up and while he carries her to bed he talks to her about their work while she slowly knocks out in his arms and it’s just- so soft. so so so soft

- (this isn't rlly my own hc, BUT appreciating another hc i adore, but one where they kinda flirt by improving the others work and how its a game to them, and yknow what i fucking love that for them good for them!!!)

- i also like to think that when they do fight, it's like a old couple, just imagine they don’t agree with an experiment and its results and they'll be talking about it to other people it just goes like;

h: *on a data pad communication w/princesses* ..and when we did do this x happened which means-

e; *in the background* WHICH MEANS YOU DID IT WRONG!!!

h: *turns around violently* NO!! NO I AM NOT, YOU ARE WRONG!!!! I DID THE MATH AND YOU-

(and it goes on like this for hours :) true fun shenanigans)

- sometimes entrapta is just like “ohohoho you wanna kiss me so bad rn, don’t you-“ and HE DOES out of spite

- tell me why they seem like the type of couple where entrapta flirts all the time playfully and hordak flusters easily with her but like on the rare occasion he does initiate flirting entrapta is literally melting

- i feel like after these two FINALLY start dating, entrapta is just so giggly talking about him, soft sighs and flustered checks , it’s like so different to everyone they actually have to take a double take. it’s the cutest thing

- like when they do share about their relationship I feel like a lot of people would object like “he’s manipulating you!!” or “he’s a monster!! he can’t love!!” but everyone just stops just for a moment when they just see him and her being so loving towards each other and how soft they are for each other and it’s just such a shock that they’re like oH

- but like rest assured she's so ready to drop everything and share what she loves about her man BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT SHE JUST HAS SO MUCH TO LOVE.

- entrapta loves to just boop him on the nose randomly when he gets close to her face playfully and he gets all huffy and like >:T

- when they are separated which happens; it doesn't bother them too much like yes they miss each other’s company but when it does get too long one of them does steal an impromptu visit

- and if they aren’t able to do that they literally get so fucking excited to see each other again like entrapta will be all over the place, hair frizzing and bouncy about to reunite with her man or hordak just get impatient and all pushy to get to his partner!!

- imagine them having late night talks, just anywhere. on the throne in dryl, in their sanctum, under the fucking stars!! speaking words of affection. LITERALLY THE SOFTEST ATMOSPHERE.

annnnd that’s it for now! hope y’all enjoyed! ill be back shortly, probably! :)

#she ra hordak #she ra entrapta #entrapdak #she ra headcanons

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featherfur · 3 years

Text

I’m going to try and make sense with this so bear with me: I think a lot of untapped angst potential in fic is the reality of Jiang Cheng being the older one now and visibly more mature because Wei Wuxian died at 20? 19? And he wasn’t exactly maturing in the ghost realm during that considering he doesn’t remember it. Now he’s definitely matured via trauma but that’s not the same thing. And now they’re 16x on the wrong wave length.

Under the read more because uh, I go into detail

Now put Jiang Cheng in the same room as Wei Wuxian and they’re both 12, atleast in the beginning. But Jiang Cheng had his previously homicidal insane brother show up right next to his nephew after insulting his mom (who’s death he inadvertently led too) so JC (for me atleast) can be forgiven a bit for not being happy and wanting to kick his ass and thinking he may still be insane because an Okay Wei Wuxian Would Not Insult Shijie or His Nephew. Especially since JC not only didn’t tell the entire world that his brother was back, left him with Jin Ling, only yelled at him a bit and scared him via dog and— (I’m going to shut up here because that isn’t my point but man I could go on). JC had a lot of issues and he yells at Wei Wuxian to the point one wants to offer him a cough drop.

But post Temple JC? Who watched him walk away sadly and knows that Wei Wuxian is no longer unstable and thinks he doesn’t want to be his brother anymore? That’s so much wonderful angst because that means Wei Wuxian will not be greeted by Jiang Cheng his Shidi anymore.

He will be met with Sect Leader Jiang who clawed his way up from nothing but a baby in his right, a stack of spreadsheets on his left and the most feral disciples around that he has to protect. This Sect Leader who doesn’t have time to go around hunting Wei Wuxian down to harass him. Sect Leader Jiang who barely even greets Wei Wuxian when he visits because he has shit to do. He has audits and taxes and those damn merchants are complaining, he has to up the wages of the seamstresses that make the robes of his sect with so many protection talismans and find a way to convince Sect Leader Ouyang to stop fine-ing the caravans that deliver the goods. He has to organize the celebrations and make sure everyone’s safe during flooding season. That’s not even counting how he has to train and monitor his disciples and night hunts and the political hellscape!

But Wei Wuxian!! He doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know everything that Jiang Cheng has been taking care of or that he’s just seriously that busy. He thinks he’s being ignored and pushed away and mocked when Jiang Cheng walks by with a quick “Master Wei” and runs off! Because how could Jiang Cheng treat him like that when Wei Wuxian is clearly trying to reconnect. Every offer of night hunting his declined unless it was planned then already and when they do get together Jiang Cheng ignores him! Why is Wei Wuxian even trying!? What’s the point of Jiang Cheng can’t stand him but why can’t he stop trying either??

Meanwhile during those hunts Jiang Cheng is trying to keep an eye on his brother, his twelve disciples, Jin Ling and his entourage, Wei Wuxian’s Lan ducklings, that random Ouyang kid who apparently imprinted on Jin Ling, figure out what they’re hunting, mentally running the math for the cost of the inns for all of them, going through each of the attending Jiang disciples’ personal likes and deciding on whether to buy their favorite snacks or something else as a ‘thank you for not dying’ as has become accidental custom, trying to figure out if it’s weird to get Jin Ling and his friends something nice (CLEARLY he has to get the Ouyang kid something, he apparently has no other friends considering how often he’s just hanging around Lotus pier whenever Jin Ling swings by), and trying to think of he has any other disciples night hunting within a 50 mile radius he should fly out to check on before he sleeps!

Clearly Wei Wuxian just doesn’t care about the Jiang sect and wants to just be annoying but Jiang Cheng is busy! Cant he see that Jiang Cheng is only available on Mondays and Tuesdays during the odd months and Wednesday through Saturday on the even? It’s very clear when Jiang Cheng has time! Why can’t his brother just respect that not everyone has the free time to do whatever the hell they want? Is he flaunting it?!? How dare he!

It’s a giant mess and it only gets worse because Jiang Cheng is diplomatic, he knows how to bow his head when he’s overpowered (though he rarely is nowadays) or when the outcome isn’t worth it. So he doesn’t want to start a fight with Lan Wangji and from there the entire Lan Sect! He’s been holding his tongue for years he can keep doing it, especially if his brother’s happiness is on the line. He can ignore Lan Wangji being rude, he can ignore the dark looks, hell if he thinks Wei Wuxian’s position is threatened at the LAN’s he’ll even play real fucking nice so that Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen won’t do anything to his brother. He did it for Yanli he’ll do it now. (Also added bonus of now Sizhui has started to warm up to him and so he has to be extra polite so his new nephew doesn’t hate him and his free nephew [Jingyi] doesn’t light a building on fire in revenge for someone looking at Hanguang-Jun wrong). He might have snapped at Hanguang-Jun when shit was going down but now Lan Xichen is in seclusion and Jiang Cheng can’t piss odd Lan Wangji no matter how much he wants to chuck a beehive at his head

But Wei Wuxian doesn’t it take it that way! He just sees his brother suddenly calling him Master Wei and won’t interact with him during meetings or before or after and he’s acting so cold towards Lan Zhan! He’s staring right through his brother in law and keeps acting like he doesn’t exist and the only time in the last month Jiang Cheng sought him out was!! To ask!! If he!! COULD HIRE WEI WUXIAN?!? NOT EVEN TO SAY HI OR CHECK ON HIM OR FINALLY ANSWER HIS LETTERS BUT TO ASK HIM TO CREATE TALISMANS FOR THEIR CLOTHES! (Of course he said yes though because hey money and it’s actually fun chatting with the seamstresses) but that’s all his shidi cares about?? What Wei Wuxian can do for him? He doesn’t care about Wei Wuxian at all! Why does Jiang Cheng keep hating him, he thought they were atleast neutral but he keeps going further and further away!!! Wei Wuxian is hurting and his little brother wants nothing to do with him!

Neither of them are IN the wrong but they’re both wrong.

It takes until someone, probably Lan Xichen or Nie Huiasang, points out that “Wei Wuxian… He’s not your shidi anymore, he’s your Sect Leader well a Sect Leader… he’s a Sect Leader to one of the biggest Sects, he’s busy it’s tax season. I wouldn’t want to interact with anyone either.”

Meanwhile Jin Ling or a random slightly more insane then the rest Jiang disciple interrupts Jiang Cheng’s lunch to go “Okay you’re making this worse on literally everyone, Wei Wuxian is clearly trying to make this work why are you being mean? He’s trying!” (Or much more polite for the disciple)

They have to meet up and actually talk things through and honestly *that* only works because Lan Xichen grabs them both by their metaphorical ears and sits them down because “I would like my brother in law, both of them, to stop crying to me because they can’t talk. So now we’re going to learn to communicate and if either of you makes this weird I WILL just start fluting my way out of it and you’ll feel bad.” (Actually he just sits them down together while and he and Jiang Cheng have to go over payments for the next batch of trades and Wei Wuxian passes out on Jiang Cheng halfway through and when he wakes up he swears to never bother him on a work day because that was the worst moment of his life and they end up repairing enough to start the trek to being brothers again

#jiang cheng #the untamed #wei Wuxian #Jiang sect #fic material #MDZS

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wouldbejust · 3 years

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Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s daughter grows up an realizes that, actually, she’s aroace.

And like... there’s always been some political pressure because she’s the daughter of two of the most powerful figures in the cultivation world and part of the main family of one of the four major clans.

The traditionalists have always expected that she’ll marry out and bring important political ties to her husband’s family, so despite everything she’s a little nervous telling her dads that, actually, rather than marry she’d rather just spend the rest of her life in the Library Pavilion, play her erhu, and occasionally teach the upper level history classes to the juniors.

But, like, this is WangXian. They take this announcement without so much as blinking.

“I will inform xiongzhang so that he may reply to future inquiries appropriately.”

“Good! Now I don’t have to worry about my little ducklings escaping too far from the nest. Don’t look at me like that, Lan Zhan, they’re all still babies.”

Just. Total, immediate, equanimous acceptance.

Of course, the cultivation world is still kind of sexist and terrible, so there are some people who talk. Something about WangXian’s daughter not living up to her family obligations or her place in society or her debt to the Lan family for adopting her.

One very audacious cultivator makes the mistake of publicly stating that it must be a defect of her “low blood” because she’s adopted in, unaware that the Lan entourage has just entered behind him.

The Yiling Laozu has to stop his husband, Hanguang-jun, the righteous Second Jade, from immediately drawing steel and commiting murder in cold blood. Said Yiling Laozu might just loosen his control on the whole red eyes thing when looking at the offending cultivator though. Just to make a statement.

(Neither Lan-zongzhu nor Lan Qiren so much as chastise them.)

(I read Lan Qiren as some form of ace himself, so I also love the idea that the traditionalists are much surprised when, rather than agree with them that somehow this is Wei Wuxian’s terrible influence on Hanguang-jun’s child, he verbally eviscerates them in defense of his granddaughter grandniece.)

#WangXian #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #unnamed Lan Daughter #Gusu Lan #Lan Qiren #AroAce #asexuality #aromantic #MDZS #the untamed #CQL

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daebakinc · 3 years

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D-4: Prince

Pairing: Prince Kun x Knight Reader AU: Royalty Word Count: 1.4K

“You! Knight! Champion!”

You freeze, glad your back is turned. Royalty don’t take it well when you roll your eyes at them. Gritting your teeth to keep the long-suffering sigh inside, you force your mouth into a polite smile to face the queen.

“Your Majesty.” You bow at the waist. You know she expects you to kneel, but you’re the prince’s champion, not hers. As such, there are only two people who can demand such: the king and your prince.

“The coronation ceremony begins an hour. The prince must be ready,” the queen says stiffly. Without looking, you can tell she isn’t pleased at your lack of deference, but knows she has no power over you, lowborn as you are. “He’s not in his rooms. Go find him and make sure he is not late.”

“The prince knows his duty, your Majesty. He will be there.”

The queen nods and hurries away, her plentiful entourage trailing after like many lace and powder-laden ducklings. You sneeze at the wall of perfume they leave in their wake. After so many years on the road, you’re not sure you’ll ever become accustomed to the extravagance of court life. Sure the food and quarters are unquestionably better, but the people...

Well, until the next war, there’s no place to run away to. You’ve stayed by Kun’s side ever since you found each other on the streets and you’re not about to abandon him now. Not when the life and fate you’d both thought were set were turned on their heads, then thrown in a barrel and tossed down a mountainside for good measure.

Rolling your shoulders beneath your armor, you head towards the stables. If Kun isn’t in his rooms, there’s only one of two places he can be. You pray it’s the stables.

Unfortunately for you, the only occupant in Feifei’s stall is Feifei. None of the stable hands have seen him either.

You should be thankful that by the time you reach the top of the sentry tower, you haven’t sweated through your silk tunic beneath your armor. That still doesn’t stop you from leaning against the stone wall, well out of breath, and glaring at your future king.

“The sentry tower?” you demand, coughing to clear your throat. “Of all places, this one? Really?”

Your friend just shrugs from his perch on one of the windowsills. He pulls one leg toward his chest and rests an arm on it, saying, “I knew you would be the only one to think to look here.”

“I’m so honored, your Highness,” you retort, making Kun’s head snap up.

"Don’t call me that.” At your raised eyebrows, Kun quickly looks back out over the city. “I’m not the prince yet.”

In his jet black, scarlet red, and shining gold robes, he certainly looks the part. The simple circlet of gold resting on his head also declares his status, a temporary holder for the crown he’ll receive in less than an hour’s time.

“You’re going to be,” you remind him. You cross the small room and sit on the opposite end of the window sill. Your eyes rove over the city, a warren you memorized out of survival. Keeping your gaze outward, you ask, “Remember when we stole that whole food cart? And hid it as a manure cart so we didn’t get caught?”

Kun laughs, nodding. In that second, some of the shadow of stress leaves his features. “Smelling like that was worth not being hungry for a few days.”

“We didn’t smell that good to begin with, you have to admit. That was first and last time our stomachs were that full for awhile. What about when you negotiated our first mercenary contract?”

“What’re you doing?”

You meet Kun’s questioning eyes squarely. “Do you remember? That miser only wanted to pay one gold coin a piece for going on a fool’s errand. You made sure we were paid fairly. It’s because of you that we every single one of us young fools survived.”

“What does this-”

“Do you remember what you told the king the day he summoned us and he revealed who you were?”

Kun remains silent. You can tell he’s slowly connecting the parts, but you don’t have the patience to wait until he arrives at the conclusion you want.

“You told him were you go, we go,” you remind him. “You demanded ranks and positions for us, the sons and daughters of peasants who you could have easily left behind like so many others did.”

"How could I do that?” Kun demands, sitting up. “We’ve bled together, starved together. You all are more family to me than these people could ever be.”

“You know what they think of family. People like them would have flung us aside, forgotten. Don’t you see, Kun? Do you? I knew you were something special back then too. No matter what situation we got into, you got us out. You kept us alive, but you never became cruel or cold. You were meant to be a king long before-”

“Before the king realized he could no longer have children so his abandoned bastard would have to do for an heir?” The bitterness in Kun’s words is so palpable you can taste it on your own tongue.

“That’s one way to look at it. Of course,” you wait until Kun’s eyes turn back to you, “there is another way.”

His curiosity gets the better of him again. “What’s that?”

“An opportunity.” You move closer until your face is a breath’s from his. “You finally get the chance to be who you dreamed of. A powerful, righteous man who rights injustices and defends the innocent. All those crazy dreams we had when we were kids, you can make them a reality.”

“I don’t really want to be king of the world anymore.” Kun takes the circlet from his head and turns it in his hands, staring at it. “I don’t even want to be a prince. I don’t feel like I won’t ever belong... We grew up in this city, but it was worlds away from this palace. What if I can’t do it?”

Without a second thought, you slide from the windowsill to kneel in front of Kun.

He jerks away, startled, then instantly puts his arms on your elbows, trying to force you up. “What- Why are you-”

“Kun, all of us know we owe our lives to you in more ways than one. That’s why we’ve followed you for so long, why we still follow you, and will follow you no matter what. No matter what you desire, whether it become king or run away, we will always do our best to ensure your success and happiness. But...” you raise your eyes to look into Kun’s, “I truly do believe you will be the best king this kingdom has ever seen.”

“What of your happiness?” Kun fires back. He pulls on your arms again, but you don’t budge. “Can you be happy here?”

“That doesn’t-”

Kun’s hands shoot to your face, pulling it to his so his lips can fully cover them. Like it’s the first time, his kiss renders you completely defenseless. All you can do is breathlessly sink into him, your fingers twining through his hair.

When he finally draws back, it’s only far enough so that your noses still touch. “Don’t ever say your happiness doesn’t matter.”

Words are hard, but you try. “A king and his champion? Don’t think I’ve ever read that fairytale before.”

“Then we’ll write our own.”

“Pretty sure it’s law that you have to marry a princess though,” you tease.

Your prince draws you up into his lap. After stealing a soft kiss, he replies, “Wasn’t it you who was just reminding me kings can make whatever changes they please? I think we just found the first one.”

#kun drabbles #wayv drabbles #nct drabbles #kun scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct scenarios #kpop drabbles #kpop scenarios

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flawedamythyst · 2 years

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On The Eleventh Day of Christmas...

Another one based on @ameliahcrowley‘s prompts, yes I did get 3 ficlets out of your one Ask, enjoy!

1969

It was cold in Edinburgh and Joe shivered as they stepped out of the cinema. Beside him, he saw Nicky’s arm twitch as if to wrap around him, then go still. There were far too many other people around to risk that kind of touch, not without causing more drama than they could really be bothered with today.

“Well, that wasn’t how it happened at all,” announced Andy as they turned to head back to their safehouse, walking past the massive poster proclaiming The Lion In Winter on the side of the cinema. “And Eleanor wouldn’t have been seen dead in most of those outfits.”

Booker turned to stare at her. “You knew her?”

“Of course,” said Andy.

Booker shook his head. "Sorry, just... You knew Eleanor of Aquitaine? And you've not mentioned it before?"

Andy shrugged. "Why would I?"

Booker made a quietly frustrated noise and stared up at the sky. "Perhaps because I have been talking about wanting to see this film since it came out, months ago?"

"I can tell you how it really went down, if you want?” said Andy, and Booker gave her a pained look.

"Please tell me you weren't there that Christmas."

"Oh no, I was," said Andy. "We all were." She glanced over at Nicky and Joe. "Right? You can tell Booker what it was like as well."

Joe cleared his throat. "Actually, if you remember, we never met the Queen, or any of the rest of the family, and had nothing to do with the drama. We were sent to work in the kitchens."

"I can confirm that Philip and Richard were fucking," said Nicky in what pretended to be a helpful tone but Joe knew was just calculated to make Booker groan.

It worked.

"Oh yes, that's right," said Andy, looking off into the distance. "That was back when we were testing your limits, so we told you there wasn't a place in Eleanor's entourage for you."

Joe took a moment to take that in. “What do you mean, testing our boundaries?”

“Oh, you know,” said Andy, shrugging as they weaved around a group of men outside a pub. It was several days after Hogmanay, but that didn’t seem to have stopped the Scottish from continuing to drink as if the festive period would never end. “Back when we wanted to see just how long you’d keep following our orders without cracking.”

Joe looked at Nicky, who looked as confused as he felt.

Andy glanced at them both and let out a laugh. “Didn’t we ever mention that? Those first few decades we were all together, you two just followed us around like little ducklings without ever considering going off to do your own thing. Quynh and I wanted to test how far we could go before you'd tell us to fuck off."

"So you sent us to be kitchen servants at the royal court of a family who were on the verge of imploding," said Nicky, carefully.

"Yes, exactly," said Andy. "Oh, don't look at me like that, it worked out pretty well for you guys, didn't it? As I recall, you did fuck off after only a week or two of working every hour of the day."

"I'm a little tempted to stab you right now," said Nicky conversationally.

Booker frowned. "Did you do the same thing with me?"

"Nope," said Andy, “I didn't need to. You made it very clear from the start that you had no interest in what we were doing and just wanted to do your own thing. You barely let us help you get back to France."

"And look how well that went for me," muttered Booker, clearly thinking about losing his family. His hand twitched towards the pocket his flask was in, but he didn't pull it out. "Maybe I should have been more like those two ducklings."

"No," said Joe, swiftly. "Oh no. You are not calling us that."

The sadness was wiped off Booker's face as he gave Joe a wide, shit-eating grin. "You really think you can stop me, duckling?"

Joe went for him and Booker took off, racing down the street, weaving in and out of the other pedestrians. He had longer legs than Joe but Joe was wily and knew how to pace himself to keep up. They crossed the street, ducking down a side road and leaving Andy and Nicky far behind.

"Keep up, duckling!" Booker called back over his shoulder, and Joe put on a burst of speed. He could hear the laughter in Booker's voice, contrasting with the sadness that was usually there, and he was more than happy to play the fool like this to keep it there.

They burst out of the side road onto Princes Street, one of the main thoroughfares in Edinburgh, and suddenly there were people everywhere. Booker nearly ran into two woman and had to dodge abruptly, calling out apologies. Joe looped around them a few steps behind him and got a glare from them both.

There was a loud squeal near-by, and suddenly the air was filled with the loud sound of bagpipes. A troop of kilted pipers had formed up and were starting to march along the road.

Booker saw his chance and darted across in front of them, getting yelled at by the band leader as Joe was left behind on the wrong side of the street as Booker ran off up another road.

Joe stopped in place, watching the pipers go by. He'd get Booker eventually.

They were all staying in the same house, after all.

#the old guard #Immortal husbands #nicky/joe #twelve days of togmas #do I think there are randomly bagpipers marching down streets in Scotland every day? No #Could I think of a better way to do Eleven Pipers Piping? Also no

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moonlightchild-otome · 3 years

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Ikemen Vampire - Jean d’Arc Route Summary Chapter 10

here is the tenth chapter!

to clarify again, I’m not very good at japanese so if anything is wrong or weirdly translated everything is on me.

of course there is going to be some spoilers so do not read if you don’t wish to know jean’s story yet.

*also little bonus at the end about Jeanne d’Arc real story! of course you don’t have to read it to understand his route in the game but it’s very interesting :)*

The Count tells MC the history of the war between France and England, also known as the Hundred Years’ War...

【 Comte 】 Jean was a soldier who led the French army during the Hundred Years War.

Jean fights for his country, France and defeats the English army. Jean d’Arc, soon after the defeat of the enemy, becomes a true hero for his people.

However, such glory won’t last for Jean :( 'The most tragic end of the world's heroes', as they say.

In the course of the battle, Jean was captured as a prisoner of war by the enemy. The King didn’t want to help him for some reason. 😡

And of course... 🙄

【 Comte 】 Jean was convicted of heresy and it has been decided that he would be sentenced to fire.

After Jean's death, the king ordered a re-examination of his treason and found him to be innocent, and he went down as a hero of France.

The fact that Jean never knew went down as a hero after his death and this won’t change the fact that he died as an innocent. The protagonist is angry because it doesn't make any sense.

From the bottom of my stomach, I feel a mixture of anger and frustration.

Here, the MC asks the Count a question. “Why did he bring him back to life after such a death?”

There's something different about the Count returning the great men of the mansion and Jean.

The MC wonders if Jean really wanted the Count to bring him back to life. Before the Count can answer, Jean appears, interrupts him, takes the MC by the arm and leads her away.

【 Jean 】 One look at this man's face is enough. I don't like it. Let's go, woman.

As soon as they arrived in the library, Jean seems to have calmed down a little lets go of the MC's arm.

The protagonist apologises for trying to find out about his past without his permission, but Jean says that's okay. Jean says it's okay, because his life has been written about in books anyway. However, he says that he doesn't want the Count to tell her about it.

【 Jean 】 ...It's not enough to say I hate it, it's too much.

Jean says that he is not a hero and that he is no different from the children's book he used to read, The Ugly Duckling.

it hurts me so much that this is the way he perceives himself when he deserves all the love in the world </3

Jean's gaze fell on the book 'The Ugly Duckling', which was still on the table.

That’s it for chapter 10!

here is some real background info about the real Jeanne d’Arc! She is such a brave and interesting historical figure. The epitome of a real badass, fearless and powerful woman.

so, the hundred years' war, if we summarize as much as possible is a series of armed conflicts that began in 1337. which opposes the kingdom of france and the kingdom of england.

in 1328 at the death of king charles iv, the question arises as to who will inherit the french crown.

one then has the choice between the cousin of the preceding king philippe de valois and edward iii the king of england who by his mother isabelle is also a descendant of the french throne.

you can imagine putting an english king on the french throne, wasn’t seen very well.

edward not happy, which led to a succession crisis, which lead to the hundred years' war.

obviously this conflict, quickly overcomes a simple succession crisis.

it's a mess.

what you have to remember, is that the english are gradually invading part of the kingdom of france.

in 1415, after the battle of azincourt and the english victory, the english king henry v controls much of the north of the kingdom of france, including paris for that matter.

but it is far from being the only concern.

what you have to keep in mind is that the king of france at the time, charles vi, is reached at rather regular intervals of madness.

this obviously prevents him from administering the kingdom properly.

as a result, in parallel with the conflict with the english, a real civil war breaks out.

to find out who between his son the heir charles and his cousin the duke of burgundy will be able to take back the reins of the kingdom; the duke of burgundy is supported by the burgundians who will end up allying themselves with the english and the son of the king the heir charles is supported by the armagnacs.

but during this time, charles is betrayed by his own father who disinherits his son and after his death, gives the crown to the english.

i warned you that it was really messy.

and it is in this incredible mess that our jeanne arrives.

and where exactly does jeanne come from? from domremy.

she is also often called the virgin of orleans.

she is associated with the city of reims, but jeanne was originally born in domremy.

and where exactly is this place? domremy is this little town to the west of the city of the vosges department, on the banks of the meuse river.

isn't it pretty?

this is jeanne's birth house,

she would have been born around 1412. the building classified as a historical monument since 1840 includes in addition to a cellar, three large rooms originally used to house the whole family, her parents and four siblings.

according to jeanne's trial, it is here that she would have learned to sew or weave which were two occupations of the young girls of the time.

her father was a ploughman, so she often had to look after the animals.

and since she is very pious she spent a lot of time praying.

she went on pilgrimage at least once a week, for example in the notre dame de bermont chapel, about three kilometres (as the crow flies) from her birth house.

and jeanne d’arc, as you may have guessed, wasn't always called jeanne d’arc.

no, in history she has had different names and official nicknames.

there are of course the best known ones: the virgin of orleans, jeanne the virgin or even just the virgin and in the vicinity of domremy she was also called the jeannette de rommée, in connection with her mother's name. she has even signed several letters with the name jehanne.

and it's even more complicated if you're interested in her surname “d'arc”.

which was originally written darc, without the apostrophe. here again there have been many variations, and i'll mention a few of them: tarc, dars, darx and even d'ailly or daly according to the phonetic transcription of her name, with a lorraine accent. from there we move on to duly, then du lys.

when the king ennobled jeanne and her family, it is written on the deed, la dame du lys in reference to the royal coat of arms.

this is the magnificent bois-chenu basilica, which was built between 1880 and 1940 in honour of jeanne.

and for the record, this incredible basilica was sometimes considered to be the place where jeanne would have heard voices.

however if we refer to the trial, it is in her father's garden, near the house, that jeanne would have started hearing voices, celestial calls, coming from saint catherine of st. margaret's and the archangel saint michael.

the divine mission entrusted to her was very “simple”.

she was only commanded to be a cavalier, to cross a kingdom occupied by the english to go and find the future charles vii and convince him that she is the one sent from heaven.

to help him to take his place on the throne by her coronation in reims.

to show him how to liberate the kingdom of france, of the english presence.

it seems to be an easy enough mission for me. 😅 (nope)

so obviously you can imagine that the people didn't take her seriously right away. it took a few years before she managed to convince the world that she wasn't completely crazy.

- jeanne?

- yes?

- this is the voice.

- is someone talking to me?

- you are the chosen one, jeanne, join me.

- yes, i'm coming.

- i hope you like human barbecue. (ok i'll stop :/)

how is the legend of jeanne forged? how does one go from being a peasant girl eager to help, to jeanne of arc, heroine of the kingdom of france?

this is le centre d’interprétation (the interpretation centre), which is just behind jeanne of arc's birth house and retraces her youth and adventures.

her journey is incredible, at 17 years old, jeanne can't stand not doing anything anymore, she has been hearing voices urging her to act for four years now.

so she decides to return to the châtellenie de vaucouleurs, to meet captain robert de baudricourt, one of the king's faithful followers and after several vicissitudes, she manages to convince him. it wasn't easy, i remind you that her main point was that she hears voices. but yeah, he finally agrees to send her with an escort, join the heirn in chinon.

the journey is quite long and above all risky, we are talking about more than 500 kilometres and in this period of turmoil, the dangers were quite present especially if you look at the map, one realizes that the small expedition crosses areas not controlled by the enemy coalition.

fortunately, everything went well for jeanne, who arrives at her destination on march 1429 and gets an audience with the heir two days later. he was quite suspicious of this young woman at first, who claims to hear divine voices but according to the story she made a revelation to him that we don't know which eventually convinced him.

for the entourage of the suitor of the throne, it's not that simple and you can understand them, betting on jeanne is a little bit like a poker game. so they insist that she will be given a few interrogations, she is questioned about her life, about her morals and finally confidence is established, she is equipped with military equipment. she then undergoes mini combat trainings and here we go, her dream is about to come true, she joins a supply convoy in blois and on april 22nd, with more than 4000 men, she is headed for orléans.

the arrival of jeanne of arc changes many things.

her faith, her confidence in victory gives hope to the soldiers and to the inhabitants, who are filled with new energy. they manage to win in less than 10 days, 10 days and the english are obliged to give up their plan, which consisted of taking the city and then attacking the south of the loire.

jeanne who comes out of this battle with this image as a victorious, ultra badass woman and just earned her nickname... la pucelle d'orléans (the virgin of orleans).

thanks to her victory in orleans, jeanne thus becomes a kind of national heroine. she represents by her fame and her qualities, a not insignificant asset for the heir in his fight against the english and the burgundians.

but what makes a real difference is less her qualities as a war strategist and more her ability to charm and to galvanise the troops and the inhabitants along the way.

it's quite simple, before jeanne's arrival, the english had a reputation for never losing their invincibility.

and jeanne achieves the feat of restoring confidence in a possible victory.

it gives the impression to the troops that they are going to receive a kind of divine help and it changes everything in the soldiers' minds, all the more so because before her arrival there was a prophecy, who said that a virgin would help defeat the english so when jeanne arrives, everyone thought "it's ok, we're saved"!

jeanne persuades the future king to start a ride to reims who is in the middle of enemy territory, to be crowned.

jeanne thus succeeded in carrying out one of the following missions which were supposedly entrusted to her by the voices she hears; in other words, since she has succeeded, she is necessarily an envoy of god, and that for the mood of the troops, it makes a huge difference.

unfortunately after the time of victories comes the time of defeats.

after the coronation, the king and jeanne no longer really agree. she is convinced that her mission is to keep the english out of france.

the king, for his part, is longing for a little rest.

for example, he does not feel at all capable of taking back paris, while jeanne, a little bit stubborn, goes there anyway and suffers a failure.

on top of that she is wounded, she gets a crossbow arrow in her thigh, moreover, she breaks her sword which had for all victories...

it's a bad sign.

some people think that the virgin is abandoned by god. some time later jeanne went to compiègne, a city besieged by the burgundians and by some english contingents and once again it goes wrong, she is taken prisoner in may 1430, by the burgundians.

she tried to escape, but all her attempts failed and in november of the same year, she was sold to the english. jeanne is then taken to the castle of rouen, where members of the church judge her for heresy.

the trial was to say that charles vii was crowned thanks to a witch, she is also blamed for everything and anything, for dressing in men's clothing,

for deferring directly to god's judgement without going through the church, for hearing the voices of demons and not of saints.

jeanne really plays her life on each of her answers, in addition, she faces accusers totally committed to the english cause on her own when she was only 19 years old.

moreover, the witnesses are obviously not chosen at random, everyone who could speak up for jeanne is under pressure. everything is being done to ensure that she is condemned. finally, she ends up at the stake, on the market square, and we make sure there's nothing left of her body, to prevent it from being turned into holy relics.

and then after the end of the hundred years' war, i.e. almost 25 years later, the church reverses this first court decision. king charles vii wants to wash away the insult that was done to him through this trial and he pushes jeanne's family to ask for a review. pope calixtus iii agreed and jeanne was rehabilitated in 1456. the investigations carried out are more serious, many of jeanne's contemporaries jostle to plead in her favour and even people who had once spoken badly of her finally return to saying good things about her.

the first judgement is broken and the young woman's memory is rehabilitated.

an unusual little fact in the end - many people have not been able to admit that the story of the virgin ends up on a pyre. for them it was impossible, this story was too beautiful, this too extraordinary woman.

and it went far enough that people found stories of women, who a few years later claimed to be the real jeanne.

just imagine them saying stuff like "oh yeah, yeah it's me i didn't burn at all, my face has changed a little bit but it's me, i assure you, believe me, really".

a certain claude des armoises is said to have pretended to be her, in the metz region. after having acquired a certain renown, having been given gifts by former relatives of jeanne; she even went so far as to meet two of the virgin's brothers, who (hold on because it's completely insane) believed her.

they really believed it was their own sister who had died at the stake.

it's a crazy story!

well, we don't really know if they really believed it, or if one pretends to believe it for financial reasons for example.

in any case, this woman, who was talked about everywhere, is unmasked by the king himself, so that this fraud can be stopped.

in the end, i find this story quite unusual.

here are the friends!

i hope it wasn’t too long to read (it probably was) and that you have learned two, three little things on our dear jeanne d’arc. after all, she is one of the most famous women in history!

#ikemen #ikemen games #ikemen series #ikemen spoilers #Ikemen Vampire #ikemen jean #IkeVamp #ikevamp jean #Jean #Jean D'arc #jean route #ikemen vampire jean #jeanne d'arc #history #france #my translation #jean all chapters

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ecoamerica · 24 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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hunxi-guilai · 4 years

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Is it just me or is Jin Ling the only person from the Jin sect in the Yi City arc? Like, even Ouyang Zizhen has an entourage?

I don’t think it’s just you! Jin Ling runs around by himself an awful lot and I personally find that very alarming!

I kind of went off in the tags on this beautiful piece of art about what -- at least to me -- has been coming off as a bit of a death drive -- Jin Ling is constantly wandering off alone, desperately trying to prove himself (to Jiang Cheng, to the world, to everyone who’s ever made fun of him for being an orphan). He tries to fight the dancing goddess statue on Dafan Mountain when he really shouldn’t; he lands himself in the walls of the Nie Sect Saber Tomb; he tracks his way to Yi City alone; he climbs over the wall of the Guanyin Temple.

His closest companion is a dog. (Mind you, Xianzi is a very good pupper, no matter what Wei Wuxian says, but still)

Also, we see during the quality uncle-nephew bonding moment of episode 40 that Jin Ling doesn’t get along particularly well with the other juniors of Lanling Jin; later, during episode 44, when the multi-clan duckling contingent is trapped in the Burial Mounds, a trussed-up-and-tied Jin Ling proceeds to start a fight with equally trussed-up-and-tied Jin Chan rip sorry my dude I didn’t realize you had a name until now until wangxian and Wen Ning walk in. But if wangxian and Wen Ning hadn’t walked in? Seriously, Jin Ling, where did you think that was going to get you?

We mostly see the exterior manifestations of it, but Jin Ling is profoundly angry, lonely, and sad for pretty much the entire time we see him in CQL. He lost his parents at a devastatingly young age -- enough of a tragedy on its own, except people also seem intent on never letting him forget it; he’s constantly being torn in two directions in the Lanling Jin and Yunmeng Jiang power struggle (listen if Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng weren’t subtly catty to each other for approximately sixteen years about stewardship of Jin Ling, I will -- not eat Jin Guangyao’s hat this time, but instead swipe it off his head and throw at whoever disagrees with me); he doesn’t have any friends his age until he starts getting along with Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui and Ouyang Zizhen through the tried-and-true method of near-death experiences.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t surprise me at all that Jin Ling doesn’t have an entourage in Yi City, because he doesn’t get along with other people and absolutely has the obstinate personality to strike out on his own and refuse help.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Jin Ling and I’m sure he matures into a wonderful sect leader and friend, but boy we’re seeing him at the peak of teenagerhood and he’s having a rough time of it

#ask and ye shall receive #Jin Ling

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josefavomjaaga · 3 years

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Eugène and his Bavarian family

This is the second part of the answer to the question by @mademoisellewhistler about Eugène's friends, this time dealing with Eugène's relatives by marriage, the royal family of Bavaria. Thank you once more for the Ask.

(Max Joseph, his second wife Karoline and their five daughters, painting from 1821)

***

Let's start with his spouse, Auguste. In short, she adored him. After having yielded in tears to the raison d'état and sacrificed herself for the fatherland (her own words) at Christmas 1805, she apparently realised rather quickly that she had not made a bad bargain when she gave up her cousin Charles. At the end of May 1806, Eugène for the first time had to leave her for a few days, and she whined about it in letters to anyone who would listen, Napoleon included. (Napoleon must have been quite puzzled by this; things had been very different in his own marriage).

After all, who could have guessed that this totally unacceptable bridegroom would turn out to be such a nice guy?

Napoleon was otherwise not very successful as a marriage broker, but this marriage, which he had coerced, actually turned out to be very happy, and my impression is that he was immensely proud of it. However, he was to suffer as a result of this success, because Auguste soon felt that her Eugène was getting the short end of the stick compared to Napoleon's brothers and brothers-in-law. Napoleon charged him with most of the work, but the royal crowns and honours went to other people. From the time of his divorce from Josephine at the latest, she was not at all well disposed towards Napoleon. But that is another story. Even the loss of his position could not change her affection for Eugène. On the contrary, we have some of the most touching letters between them from this period.

Next, Eugène’s father-in-law, King Max Joseph of Bavaria. In short, he adored him. If Auguste hadn't married Eugène, Max would probably have done it himself, just to keep this guy in the family. This was exactly the son he had always wanted, handsome, polite, cheerful, well-mannered, brave soldier and, above all, French! (And what had fate given him instead? Crown Prince Ludwig.) Eugène and Max Joseph were, in Auguste's opinion, very much alike in many ways; no wonder they got on well together. Max took a lively interest in all things concerning Eugène and Auguste; when Auguste finally gave birth to their long-awaited son in 1810, he wrote from Munich that he had not been able to sleep all night because of his excitement and happiness at the news. Normally I would consider this a rhetorical phrase; in Max's case it is probably to be understood literally.

The relationship between Eugène and Max Joseph seems, as far as can be deduced from the letters, to have been more family-like than that between Eugène and Napoleon. Towards Napoleon, Eugène always maintains a very submissive, respectful tone; Napoleon is always "Sire" and "Votre Majesté". But he addresses Max as "Mon bon père", my good father, and in his letters to Auguste he likes to speak of "notre père", our father, referring to Max.

I have already written about the negotiations that took place between the two of them in 1813/4, even though they belonged to opposing camps.

They also quarrelled - once, over Tyrol. Max Joseph did not agree at all with a proclamation that Eugène had published, and wrote to him about it. Whereupon Eugène wrote to his wife almost in despair, oh crap, crap, crap! Now I've quarrelled with your father over this thing, I hate this Tyrol!

(The disgruntlement did not last long.)

Eugène's early death hit Max Joseph hard. According to Planat de la Faye, he never afterwards referred to his son-in-law as anything other than "mon pauvre Eugène", my poor Eugène.

Crown Prince Ludwig. In short, he hated him. Or possibly not. Unless he did. In any case, he hated everything French and in particular everything connected with Napoleon, which at least at times certainly included his French brother-in-law. He got so upset about his sister's forced marriage to the unworthy Beauharnais that he wrote a play about the matter over the next few years (a tragedy, some of it being unintentionally funny if you know the actual story).

Of course, the guy, on the other hand, was very very nice. But that didn't change the fact that he was French. "Of all the Frenchmen, Eugène is probably still the best," Ludwig is supposed to have said. This was probably the greatest compliment Eugène could expect from his brother-in-law.

In part, Ludwig's dislike may have been jealousy. Ludwig and Max Joseph did not get on at all; Ludwig probably feared that Eugène would replace him with Max. Napoleon did not make matters any better when he occasionally pointed out that crown princes could also be shot for disobedience and that, after all, Eugène's children were also grandchildren of the Bavarian king.

On top of that, Max Joseph and Auguste had the idea that good-natured Eugène should speak to Ludwig's conscience from time to time about Ludwig’s attitude towards the French Emperor, his frequenting of dubious taverns and the good behaviour of crown princes in general. Eugène did it, as he did almost everything he was told, but it did not go down well at all with Ludwig.

When Eugène finally ended up in Bavaria after the fall of the Empire, the rivalry escalated to the point where Louis wanted to duel him (he was quick with duel demands - he knew full well that someone would always stop it). He prevented Eugène's children from becoming part of the royal family, and it almost came to the point that Eugène and his family would have left Bavaria again. In the end, Auguste wrote a bitterly blunt letter to her brother, and they came to an arrangement.

And, as I said, Eugène was a terribly nice guy. Besides, he had bought a small castle outside Munich, in Ismaning, at just the right distance from town to ride out there in the morning and then have breakfast with sister, brother-in-law and nieces and nephews ... which Ludwig, when he was in Munich, did regularly. Apparently his aversion to all things French did not extend to breakfast.

Queen Karoline of Bavaria, second wife to Max Joseph and stepmother to Auguste. Which I guess makes her Eugène’s stepmother-in-law? In short: Undecided. In theory, she couldn't stand Eugène. In theory, she never forgave him for stealing her little brother's bride. In theory, she was forbidden to like the guy if only because he was Napoleon's stepson and she didn't like Napoleon, being sister to the tsarina. But in practice it was always so hard to keep up that dislike once you met him, with him being so damn charming.

When Eugène came to Bavaria, relations were quite strained, especially between Auguste and Karoline. On the other hand, Eugène simply became part of the family. There are touching letters from Karoline about Eugène's death, in which she describes in detail to her mother how he was no longer able to speak at the end and took her hand and put it on his heart to say goodbye ... when reading this, one has the feeling that she was truely very touched and that she really had to get something off her chest.

By the way, there was a second source of conflict between Eugène and Karoline: Karoline's sister, Friederike, was the wife of ousted King Gustav of Sweden. And Eugène married his daughter to the son of the "usurper" Bernadotte. Karoline was not happy about this.

Auguste’s younger brother, Karl Theodor, called »Charles« in the family. He was still a child when Auguste left for Italy but seems to have liked Eugène from the beginning. In spring 1813, when Eugène was at the head of what was left of the Grande Armée, Karl Theodor wrote him an urgent letter and begged that Eugène would call him to the army as his ADC. Eugène, having his hands full with generals who turned blind and deaf with shock when orders came in, and soldiers who broke down in fear at the word "cossack", wrote back politely but firmly that now was a very bad time. Maybe later, when war resembled war again.

During his time in Bavaria, Karl Theodor was one of Eugène's friends in Munich, but he was only the second son, with future King Ludwig calling the shots. Eugène made him executor of his will.

How Auguste's younger sister Charlotte, the family's ugly duckling, viewed Eugène, I don't know, but she seems to have been more on Ludwig's side. Auguste's younger half-sisters, born of Max Joseph's marriage to Karoline, were close in age to Eugène's children, with whom they often played together. It is said of Ludwig's eldest son, the future King Maximilian II, that he always retained very positive memories of his French uncle, especially because Eugène was the exact opposite of the authoritarian, stubborn and stingy Ludwig.

And then there is somebody who was not officially part of the family, but factually: Auguste's old governess, Madame de Wurmb, called "Machère", whom Eugène had, so to speak, co-wed. "Machère" had substituted for Auguste's mother, deceased at an early age, and meant a great deal to her. Throughout her life, she kept a strict regime over her former pupil and, since she accompanied Auguste to Italy as a lady-in-waiting, also over Auguste's husband. Planat de la Faye, who met her in 1822, gives a rather amusing description of her. She had still been brought up in "Ancien Régime" Paris and lived entirely according to its principles (or what she regarded as its principles). When, after the end of the Empire, Eugène and Auguste travelled to Baden with very little luggage and entourage for financial reasons, and Eugène helped his wife into the carriage himself for want of a servant, the world came to an end for Madame de Wurmb ...

"Machère" probably never really forgave Eugène for daring, as a mere Beauharnais, to marry "her" princess. But she had to acknowledge that he made Auguste very happy, and that most of the time he really did behave as if he were a real prince (or what Machère regarded as one).

Eugène's biographer Adalbert of Bavaria suggests that Napoleon advised Eugène upon his marriage to first take the old governess to Italy and then throw her out as soon as possible. Which, of course, good-natured Eugène never did. There is a very funny anecdote about the first meeting between "Machère" and Napoleon, which Napoleon himself reported and which I will reproduce here soon anyway. In his letters to Auguste, Napoleon sent greetings to the lady every now and then - or maybe that was his way of finding out if the old dragon was still there and if it was already safe to visit Italy...

#eugene de beauharnais #napoleon #king max joseph #auguste von bayern #karoline von bayern #max joseph #eugene's marriage #ludwig i #bavaria #munich

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muertawrites · 4 years

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Two Halves - Chapter Ten (Zuko x Reader)

Part Nine

Word Count: 2,750

Author’s Note: We’ve had enough sad. Like, in general. So I wrote some happy for this week’s update. This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I decided to save the rest of it for next week since it ended pretty nicely where it is.

I feel like now is a good time to mention that I haven’t read the comics (I didn’t even know there were comics until like two months ago) so if you’ve been wondering why this story diverges so much from them, that’s why. I see the canon and I think it’s great, but it’s just so much more fun to write my own interpretations of what happened to everybody after the war. Sorry not sorry.

I’m slowly getting back into the swing of things. I felt pretty okay yesterday, and I’m starting to not immediately hate everything I produce and am remembering how to talk myself up again after forgetting that anxiety and depression don’t rule my thoughts when it comes to my creativity. Things are still gonna be weird for a while, but we’ll be fine eventually. That’s how the human condition is - we always swing back at some point.

~ Muerta

“What do you know about Fire Nation prisons?”

You expect Rina to falter at the question. She doesn't even flinch, continuing to dress you as if you asked her what she’d had for breakfast.

“What do you want to know?” she wonders in return.

You gaze off, allowing your mind to roam as you consider her question.

Since your return to the Fire Nation, Zuko’s attentive attitude hasn't changed, and your fondness for him has grown in ways you never expected it would. During council meetings, it’s become a habit to hold his hand under the table where your advisors can't see (though Yong has caught you once or twice, smirking as if you were two school children passing love notes during class). You spend more time together in the evenings before bed, and some nights you invite Zuko to sleep beside you, missing his presence since returning to separate rooms - he’s always gone before sunrise to discourage any scandal (despite the fact that you're married), never leaving without a kiss to your forehead and a murmur of, “See you soon.” It’s also become routine to meet him by the turtle duck pond when you each have a moment to spare, the little creatures getting so used to your presence that many of them freely approach you, pecking at your palms in the chance you have a treat for them.

“My mother and I used to do this,” Zuko confides during one of your breaks; it's the first cool afternoon since the beginning of summer, a few leaves from the overhanging maple tree floating on the pond’s placid surface. “I remember throwing a rock at one of the ducklings when I was a kid. Its mother bit me.”

You giggle, opening your hand so a young male can nibble at the apple peel you hold out to him; you attempt to scratch his head while he eats, and he squawks at you.

“Good for her,” you jeer. “Serves you right for being a dick.”

Zuko chuckles, the curl of his lips framing a hazy sadness in his eyes.

“Azula did stuff like that all the time,” he sighs. “I always felt… bad. Our mother knew what she was when she was really young. I was the one who got all her kindness. Sometimes… I think it's my fault Azula ended up the way she did.”

“It isn't,” you assure him. You tuck your hand into his. “Your parents played favorites. It wasn't fair.”

Zuko hums absently, his gaze drawn out across the courtyard. After a moment, he’s pulled back to you, a playful grin tugging at his mouth.

“You remind me of a turtle duck,” he states. “You look harmless. You're cute. But you could really fuck someone up if they provoked you.”

You laugh, slipping your hand from his to teasingly shove his shoulder; the turtle ducks around you scatter as he mirrors your reaction, doing little to defend himself against your loving attack.

“Did you just call me ‘cute’?” you tease, reaching to pinch at his cheek - he grimaces, taking your hand away from his face by recapturing it in his. “Are you going soft on me, Hothead?”

He chuckles, mirthfully flicking an apple peel into your hair. You notice the blush that colors his neck, unable to deny your own.

“Oh, Turtleduck,” he says with mock pity. “Is Sokka so bad at flirting that you never learned to pick up on it?”

He's used his new pet name for you almost every day since he coined it; every time he does, your heart soars out of your throat and into the clouds.

Through your bedroom window, you can see Zuko on the porch behind your chambers, leaned casually against the railing as he chats with Aang.

Aang says something that makes the older man laugh; your innards seem to melt as the lines around the corners of Zuko’s eyes and lips wrinkle like folds in a bedsheet. Something in the scene riles you - you’ll slit a hundred men’s throats to protect that smile and the feeling it gives you.

“This is about Azula,” Rina observes.

One thing you've learned in your short time with her is that you can't keep secrets from her - chances are she already knows all of them.

“I just want to know what her living situation is like,” you tell her, “how powerful she could actually be from inside a prison cell.”

“You have a merciful husband,” Rina sighs, somewhat dreamily . “Azula doesn't live in a prison; he put her in a compound in the Si Wong desert. She's heavily guarded and follows strict schedules and rules, but he didn't want her to live the rest of her life in a cage.”

“What about Ozai?” you ask.

“He’s in a prison. I said your husband was merciful, not that he doesn't hold a grudge.”

You smirk, momentarily eased from the worry that strains your mind.

“Do either of them have access to the outside world?” you press.

Rina shakes her head.

“Azula has very little; the last she heard of anything outside the compound was your marriage announcement. Ozai has absolutely none. All the guards that keep both of them are from the unoccupied Earth Kingdom, so they have no allegiance to them, and only a select few guards are allowed to speak to Azula.”

“So… there's no way they could be the masterminds of any of this?”

Rina lifts her gaze from the sash she cinches at your waist, her dark, round eyes meeting yours; her expression is blank, but she speaks in a determined hush.

“I can't say for certain. But Azula’s intelligence is violent and cunning; she sees things from a different perspective that isn't entirely human. She has insights that more empathetic people would never consider.”

You nod slowly, understanding.

“I'll talk to Aang.”

Katara arrives from the Southern Tribe a few hours before the banquet you're hosting in Aang’s honor is scheduled to begin. You accompany her husband and yours to the imperial docks, a massive grin breaking across your cheeks the moment you spot her on the ship’s deck; she sends you a large, sweeping wave, catching you in her arms as soon as she's close enough to do so.

“I'm so glad you're okay,” she cries into your ear. “How do you feel?”

You nod, holding her by the waist as she pulls away. Her grip doesn't loosen, her arms still coiled around yours in an affectionate embrace.

“I'm good,” you assure her. “I'm tough.”

She smiles, pulling you in to kiss your cheek before turning to Zuko, greeting him with a warm hug. When she reaches Aang, her gestures are much slower, more tender. He takes her chin between two fingers and kisses her gently, his other hand positioned low on her waist as it presses her tightly against him; the action is so out of character for the two - typically so lively and averse to such kinds of public affection - that you and Zuko share an instinctive, curious glance.

“Did we forget their anniversary or something?” you whisper, fear jolting through you when a look of panic crosses his features.

“... I don't think so,” he says after a pause. “Maybe… he just missed her?”

The confusion on his face is endearing - he's more emotionally intelligent than most people, but he's the last person who knows it.

“Could be,” you agree. “This is the longest they've been apart in years.”

The two of you watch as Aang assists Katara into Appa’s saddle, another strange behavior considering how used to flying Katara is. Neither of them seem to notice your staring, Aang leaning in for another lingering kiss before taking his place at the reins.

You return to the palace and are met with commotion, servants and high-level diplomats scrambling this way and that in a flustered frenzy. Everyone immediately alerts, prepared for yet another catastrophe.

“What's going on?” Zuko demands as Rina approaches you; she doesn't hide her sneer at his brash tone, and you smirk as he apologetically shrinks back.

“You have visitors, come to give their congratulations for your marriage,” Rina explains.

“Who?” Zuko wonders.

“Sun Warriors. They're waiting for you in the throne room.”

Zuko and Aang exchange a look of shock. As you're ushered through the halls of the administrative wing and into the throne room, you take Aang by the arm, pulling him close so you can whisper to him.

“Who are the Sun Warriors?” you ask.

“They were the first fire benders,” Aang tells you. “They were supposedly wiped out, but Zuko and I met them when we visited their island at the beginning of my fire bending training. Their existence is supposed to be a secret.”

“Then why would they come here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

The throne room is silent - empty save for your entourage and guests - but a constant, electric buzz seems to hang in the air. Zuko falls into step beside you, taking your arm in his as you approach the group of visitors gathered before the throne; their clothing suggests Fire Nation, but from a different world, ancient to the point of almost primal. Each person present is decorated in baroque jewelry, glimmering gold and laced with vibrantly colored beads placed in intricate, deliberate patterns. Their faces are painted in stark lines of red and white, some across their noses and cheeks and under their eyes, others over their chins and foreheads; the makeup is so similar to Water Tribe markings that your eyes widen, unable to stop yourself from leaning in as you attempt to get a better look while also remaining dignified. The warriors are also much more robust than their mainland counterparts, with stocky builds and robust features - they remind you of your own people, leaving you in awe.

“Chief Sunan,” Zuko addresses the leader of the group, bowing low as he speaks; you follow suit, leveling your gaze with the floor. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

The chief smiles faintly, warmly at the two of you, bowing in return.

“We are not so cut off from the outside world that we have not heard of your marriage,” he says. “News has traveled to us of the strength of your union, and the tenacity of your bride. As Firelord, you have protected us, and made strides to restore the ancient ways of the element - we have come to give you our thanks, and offer our blessings to the both of you.”

Chief Sunan steps aside then, making way for a man and woman carrying a basket between them; they lower it at your feet, bowing as they step back to rejoin their people.

“A gift,” the chief proclaims. His muted grin morphs into something more knowing, almost mirthful as he watches Zuko approach the offering.

You rest a supportive hand on Zuko’s back as he leans forward, lifting the lid of the basket to reveal its contents; he raises a bundle of blankets from the vessel, his eyes growing wide as he peels the fabric back.

Inside the package is a dragon, just small enough to be cradled in his arms. Its scales are a gorgeous crimson, glinting and shifting between hues of gold and turquoise in the light cast from Zuko’s bended fire that surrounds his empty throne. The little beast peers up at its new parent with amber eyes that mirror your husband’s. Zuko lets out an astonished breath, raising his gaze to meet Chief Sunan’s.

“I can’t accept this,” he states, so quietly that only you and the chief can make out the words.

“You must,” Chief Sunan counters, his smile never faltering. “The masters insisted.”

Under your palm, you feel Zuko’s body tense. He nods, cautiously settling the tiny dragon into your arms; you hold the bundle tightly, reaching in to stroke gently at the baby’s nose. It purs appreciatively, and your heart swells.

Zuko bows, lowering himself to the floor in the ultimate display of respect.

“Thank you,” he says. “I vow to protect him with my life.”

When he once again stands, he looks to Rina.

“Accommodate them however they need,” he commands. “Send a group of our Kyoshi Warriors to the island to guard it from outsiders.”

Rina nods, scurrying off immediately to delegate the tasks. Chief Sunan then approaches you, resting a hand on your shoulder; you meet his eyes with slight fear, but find only kindness looking back at you.

“We are grateful our bloodlines will merge once again,” he tells you. “The origin of our people is a history that has been lost to time, long before the war was even a speck on the horizon. You see, the Sun Warriors are descendents of migrant peoples from the earliest ancestors of the Southern Water Tribe as well as the Fire Nation - what our mothers and fathers knew of water bending shaped our understanding of fire. Your union brings our people together once again, as they should be.”

Zuko wraps an arm around your waist, proudly pulling you against his side. You draw in a shaky breath, leaning into him as you nod, tears pooling along the lines of your lower eyelids.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” you say. “I’ll do everything to make sure we regain our lost history. I promise.”

Chief Sunan smiles temperately and nods, his fingers contracting around your shoulder in an appreciative grasp.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “We are proud to call you our queen.”

You invite the Warriors to stay for the night, Aang eagerly informing them of the banquet you have planned; by the time your reception of the unexpected visitors is finished, there's little more than an hour before it begins.

Zuko brings your new ward back to your quarters, keeping him tucked protectively under his arms until you shut the sitting room door securely behind you. He then unravels the blankets the little creature is wrapped in, allowing him to explore his new home.

“I thought dragons were extinct,” you marvel, watching as the fabled reptile twists and turns his body around every piece of furniture he encounters, inspecting everything he sees with humanlike interest. You smile, endeared by his wonder.

“There are two still living,” Zuko explains. He kneels down beside the dragon, offering him a bit of a rice cracker from the box you keep in a side table for your nightly tea. “Three, now, I guess. The other two are the fire bending masters Aang and I had to seek approval from after I joined their team. Honestly, I thought they were both males.”

“You must have made a good impression for them to trust you with their kid,” you remark, stifling a bit of laughter at his confession. “Maybe this’ll get Yong to stop bugging us about getting me knocked up.”

Zuko chuckles, glancing up at you with an impish grin; the suggestive expression makes you blush, and you try to not admit to yourself that the excitement it sparks isn't unwelcome.

The baby dragon lets out a mewling growl as he wraps himself around Zuko’s shoulders. He blows a minuscule jet of flame into the Firelord’s face, which Zuko mimics. You feel like squealing.

“What should we call him?” you ask, lowering yourself onto the floor beside your husband. You hold a finger out to the dragon, which he curiously takes into one of his clawed hands.

“Druk,” Zuko answers. “He looks like a Druk, doesn’t he?”

You nod, your cheeks pinkened by the smile that’s plastered itself across your face; Zuko’s eyes meet yours with the same joyed expression. He maneuvers himself closer to you, resting his hand atop yours in your lap. As his fingers curl around your palm, you become achingly aware of just how near to you he is, and in a way that’s no longer friendly - the tension is heavier now, strained under the weight of a giddy, fluttering mania that leaves you dizzy. You don’t have to wonder if he feels the same.

“Guess we’re parents now,” Zuko jokes, his voice barely above a breath.

You giggle, taking the chance of leaning in to brush your lips to his. Your skin hardly touches; you’re too nervous to dive in and taste him, and for a moment after you pull away, you fear you may have imagined the glancing kiss. The fire that flares across Zuko’s cheeks tells you you didn’t.

“Yeah,” you smirk, speaking in a murmur. “Guess we are.”

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