#All alone on guard duty with your gay thoughts. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemony-snickers · 2 years ago

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chapter fifteen >>> part fourteen here.

Title: Helping Hands (part 15 of 17) (AO3 Link Here) Chapter Summary: Where flowers bloom, so does hope. Chapter Word Count: 6,419 Chapter Warnings: fem!MC, a wedding (is that a warning? idk), a doggo gets sick for a minute, idiots in love, mutual pining to an obscene extent, some angst. .

The distractions did not abate after that evening. All too suddenly, the Caretaker found herself always aware of Lord Kakashi’s body, the warmth of him as he stood beside her, still attending to duties that would be better left to a servant.

But he refused to leave all the work to her alone. “It’s my fault we haven’t hired a full staff,” he explained one morning as he rolled up his shirtsleeves to wash their breakfast dishes, “the least I can do is pitch in.”

While the Caretaker heartily disagreed outwardly, inwardly all she could attend to was the way the muscles of his arms and neck flexed as he worked.

It was truly a devastating inconvenience.

The more often he completed such tasks, the more the social lines between them blurred. What had already become a watercolor interpretation of their relationship bloomed into something fully impressionistic—no clear lines or delineations at all. Only colors. Feelings.

It was something Lord Kakashi relished. And for all the aching in his wounded leg, all the blisters on his fingers, he had not felt so happy in longer than he could recollect than when standing beside her in the kitchen, teasing her or being teased by her as they rolled out dough together.

That he had employed servants of his own before leaving Konoha, that he had allowed her to attend to him solely at the beginning of his tenure at the Hatake Estate, seemed so ludicrous a thing, now.

For what would he be doing if he were not working beside her? Reading? Certainly, there was still plenty enough time for that in the evenings and even during the day when he commanded her to rest between duties and they would both take a half hour to themselves to enjoy the next chapter of their current books. Drinking? That was a thing he had only enough love for as to be sustained with his ritualistic evening spirits, a tradition they also shared between them. Riding? Still, he managed a daily ride so long as the weather permitted, and even occasionally when it did not. Correspondence? He wrote once a week to Tenzo and once a week to Gai and saw no reason to spend any more time on such matters except where the paying of accounts was concerned, a task which he still made time for between the bit of dusting and sweeping and washing he had picked up.

He liked filling his time with manual labor; had noticed quite as much when he devised the pulley and ramp system before Gai’s visit.

Lord Kakashi had always enjoyed the arduousness of physical activity. Even at his lowest points, when he’d been unhappily married to Rin and spending far too much of his time out of his house—drinking and gambling and generally attempting to drown himself in disparate pleasures—he’d still enjoyed the burst of vigor that came with physical exertion.

And how much more he enjoyed it with the Caretaker at his elbow. He followed her around the House not unlike one of his dogs, always nipping at her heels until she shot him an entirely false frown in order to hide her amusement.

He liked it. He liked it more than he knew he should, and enjoyed his days far better than he had for many years.

It was like the sun crawling its way up the hill and gilding the windows; Lord Kakashi felt suddenly lighter, free of so many of his burdens. Warmed through and bathed in all the promises of a new morning.

He ought to have known the feeling of closeness, of satiety, could not last without some diversion. Some hardship yet to be overcome. His life had been difficult enough already for him to always be on guard.

But there are some things you never see coming, too blinded by your own thoughts, your own wishes.

He and the Caretaker carried on blissfully unaware of any impending tumult, happy to be in one another’s company, content within the little bubble they created for themselves at the Estate.

One morning, after tidying the breakfast mess, Lord Kakashi retired to his study with a cup of tea and his usual stack of letters. Only this time, Gai’s missive was far briefer than usual; rather than the long-winded declarations of affection and purpose normally scribbled in his exuberant hand, Lord Kakashi found only a single page, signed by not only Gai himself, but Shizune, as well.

The Caretaker nearly startled out of her skin when Lord Kakashi tore into the library where she was taking down the curtains to be beaten out of doors.

“Gai and Shizune are getting married!”

His excitement was palpable, and she smiled broadly at the declaration, feeling herself swell with happiness for the couple she had been so fond of before their departure for Konoha.

“When?” she asked.

“Soon,” Lord Kakashi said, eyes flashing down to the paper still curled in his hands. “Just shy of a month from today. I’ll need to begin preparations to travel back.”

The Caretaker felt a brief, sharp tug in her chest, but answered easily, “Of course, my Lord. I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

But the idea of him departing so soon for a place so far away tasted like soured milk in her tea.

How long would Lord Kakashi remain in Konoha? Would he ever return?

These thoughts occupied her as she continued her cleaning duties long through the afternoon, and it was not until the two of them sat opposite one another in the parlor as they did every night that the subject was broached again.

“I’ve composed my response to Gai,” Lord Kakashi said, his words interrupted only by the sharp crackling of the fire, “I’ll bring it to the postman myself to ensure it’s sent out as quickly as possible. I’ll also need to procure passage back to Konoha as soon as possible, to make sure I’m there to help him prepare for the ceremony.”

The Caretaker nodded. “Of course,” she said, “I’m sure it won’t be difficult to secure you a ticket for a departure in the next week or so.”

“Indeed.”

Lord Kakashi stared into the dancing flames for a few moments and the Caretaker returned her attentions to her book—a romantic novel from the Lord’s own stash, though not nearly as lascivious as Violence or Paradise had been.

“Would you like to accompany me?”

The Caretaker’s eyes flashed up to meet his, gaze dark and serious across the room. “Beg your pardon?” she asked.

“To Konoha,” he said, “Would you like to come with me to attend the wedding?”

She could feel her body warm far more than might be induced by the fire in the hearth alone, felt a tingling rush through her entire body. “I’m sure that would be highly inappropriate. I’ve not been invited to the ceremony.”

He shrugged. “Believe me, Gai would be delighted for you to attend. And you’ve said before you always wanted to travel. I’d be happy to escort you.”

His voice was measured, but Lord Kakashi’s heart hammered in his chest as he awaited her response. In truth, it would make him much more than only happy for her to go with him.

“That’s a very generous offer, my Lord. I’m grateful for it.” Her mouth turned down in thought. “Might I have an opportunity to think it over? It would require much more preparation if I were to leave with you—organized care for the House and the horses, at the least.”

Lord Kakashi nodded. “Of course. I don’t mean to inconvenience you, truly; I only thought it might be the best chance for me to make good on my former offer.”

Her mind recalled perfectly that morning in his bed, talking quietly and openly with one another as the dawn crept over the ceiling.

“I am deeply appreciative that you should remember,” she said, “and I promise to give it thoughtful consideration.”

That his heart fluttered, cheeks warmed, at the gentle smile she gave him, was no longer an unusual thing. In fact, he found her presence often altered his heart rate or his breathing these days. Ever since the night he’d woken her from her own nightmares, held her fast in his arms, Lord Kakashi found himself wishing for another such opportunity.

He grimaced when he realized he was hoping she might once again scream in terror while she clawed herself into her mattress, just so he might have a chance to feel her warm body pressed against his again. But holding her had felt so good, her chest flush with his own, her hair tickling his nose. She smelled like the tea she’d made them after their dinner—rose and lavender and calendula.

He tried to shake away the memory as he took an unnecessary bath that evening, still giddy from the anticipation that she might join him on a voyage across the sea, and needing some activity to calm his mind. Instead, his thoughts raced with all the things he could show her in Konoha, the stories he might regale her with during their journey. Whether, far from the House, she would finally relax enough to truly feel his equal, as she ought to.

What being equals might allow.

Lord Kakashi leaned his head back against the rim of the copper tub, shivered as he recalled against his better judgement the way her lips had brushed over his neck when she apologized for waking him, the warm cascade of her breath over his ear, his back.

His hands clutched the sides of the tub, heels digging into the basin as he tried to control both his imagination and his hips, which wanted nothing more than to buck up into the imagined warmth of her body.

She would be so disgusted, he thought, if she could peer behind the suave veneer he worked so hard to maintain and see the lewd thoughts lingering just beneath. But the way she had peered up at him from beneath her eyelashes, eyes glassy from sleep and mouth parted as she regained her breath, was seared into his memory and there was nothing he could do to fully banish it from his mind.

“Lord Kakashi?”

He jolted in the water, splashing some onto the floor at the sound of the Caretaker’s voice from the opposite side of the door, the soft rap of her knuckles against the wood.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I think something may be wrong with Pakkun.”

Lord Kakashi wanted to lie there forever, eyes closed, as he bathed not only in the scented bath, but in the sound of her voice, soft and muffled by the door between them, with just the faintest edge of worry. He imagined the concerned draw of her brows, pulled together above the bridge of her nose.

He shook his head, standing. Rivulets of bathwater ran the length of his body, droplets dripping from his hair as he shook it slightly.

“I’ll be right there.”

The Caretaker lingered at the door, listening to the sounds of Lord Kakashi stepping out of the tub, the way the water splashed as he lifted his legs out of the basin one by one. She imagined the gleam of the water over his chest, his arms, his back…

She cleared her throat, tugging her robe closer around her as she stepped away from the door, ashamed and excited in equal measure.

When it opened, she felt a shock of longing deep in her belly; a long forgotten, hollow warmth spreading from her abdomen up into her chest.

He was wearing only a dressing gown, revealing the ridge of his collarbone, the edge of an angry-looking scar. His skin was damp, and she longed to reach out and touch it, to feel the way her fingers might stick a little to it before she pulled away.

“Where is he?” Lord Kakashi asked.

She tore her eyes from his hair, flattened over his forehead and half-obscuring his own hungry gaze. “This way.”

She turned and he followed down the hall toward her own bedroom.

“He’s never been in here before, and when I tried to move him, he whimpered.”

The Caretaker pushed the door open to reveal Pakkun curled on her bed, faced away from them.

“May I?” Lord Kakashi asked, waiting for permission to enter her bedchamber.

“Of course.”

He knelt beside the bed and reached out to take Pakkun in his hands. The little pug whined when Lord Kakashi moved his body and the Caretaker’s worry increased.

“Come now, Pakkun, what’s the matter?”

The way Lord Kakashi spoke to the dog so softly made his affection as clear as could be. He pulled Pakkun to the edge of the mattress so he could examine him more closely, unfurling the small creature’s body and pushing gently against his abdomen.

The Caretaker felt a wet nose bump against her ankle and turned to find the rest of the pack in the hallway, looking at her balefully. She squatted down and pet Bisuke and then Shiba and then Akino. “Don’t worry, your Master has things well in hand,” she promised.

She knew it was silly to speak to them as if they understood her, but she swore they all relaxed in the wake of her assurances. She continued to pet them in turn even as her attention was pulled back into her bedroom, where Lord Kakashi was frowning down at Pakkun as he prodded at one of his legs.

Pakkun growled, the first time she’d ever heard such a noise from the dog, and snapped at his Master, clamping down on Lord Kakashi’s forefinger with enough force to draw blood.

“My Lord!”

Lord Kakashi chuckled, gently loosening Pakkun’s bite and then petting the dog’s head reassuringly.

“I think we’ve discovered the source of the problem,” he said as he stood. “It appears Pakkun has injured one of his hind legs,” When he turned to look at the pack, each of the dogs seemed to shrink a little, “Likely,” he continued, “the result of some rough play with one of his larger companions.”

Akino’s head bowed and the dog whimpered pathetically.

But Lord Kakashi only petted his head gently, too. “It’s okay, Akino. I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”

That he also spoke to his pets as if they were people made the Caretaker smile.

“What can I do?” she asked.

He smiled gently, “I’ll have to take him into town with me tomorrow. I assume there’s an animal doctor?”

She nodded. “A brother and sister.” She nibbled her lower lip thoughtfully, “Though, I’ve only ever seen them treat horses.”

Lord Kakashi nodded. “Well, we shall find out tomorrow whether they are friends of canines as well.”

They stood in the hallway a moment, staring at one another, and then Lord Kakashi brought his bleeding finger to his mouth to suck at the wound and the Caretaker squawked indignantly, swatting his hand away.

“Don’t do that!” She blanched, realizing how her actions ought be perceived as wholly inappropriate.

Lord Kakashi’s eyes only sparkled, though, with something unidentifiable, his mouth curling slightly at the edges.

“I’ll fetch some antiseptic and bandages,” she said quickly, speeding down the hall and away from Lord Kakashi’s amused gaze.

He looked far too inviting when he stared at her like that.

Of course, he also looked far too inviting as she sat on the edge of his bed once he’d moved Pakkun to his own sleeping quarters. Their knees brushed as they turned to face one another, Lord Kakashi’s injured finger held aloft for inspection.

“Am I going to make it, Doctor?” he asked.

The Caretaker snorted, “Oh, I’m afraid not, the wound is far too severe. There’s nothing I can do.”

“What a shame,” he teased, “I was so eager to attend Gai’s wedding.”

She smiled gently, cleaning his small injury with all the care she’d ever shown any patient. As she wrapped a bandage around his finger, a lock of her hair came loose, and Lord Kakashi reached up without thinking to brush it back into place.

The acute intimacy of the gesture lanced the air like a bolt of lightning, making everything feel sharp and a little dangerous.

The Caretaker swallowed as she looked up from her work to meet Lord Kakashi’s dark gaze again.

“I think I should I like very much to attend that wedding,” she whispered, “if your offer remains in force.”

Lord Kakashi did not bother to hide his delight, smiling broadly. “I’ll procure our passage tomorrow while I’m in town.”

“I’ll make a list of duties to attend to before we depart,” she offered, voice so soft it was nearly inaudible.

“Very good.”

Neither Lord Kakashi nor the Caretaker realized how close they had leaned toward one another as they spoke, nor had either recognized that she still held his hand between hers, trapped with a careful grip.

It was yet another tender moment that could have been taken full advantage of were the two people involved not so utterly obtuse. And when the moonlight slipped through the window, barely brushing over the silver chain at the Caretaker’s neck, the glint of it was enough to make Lord Kakashi withdraw to a proper distance.

When he moved, the Caretaker released his hand, though her palms felt cold and empty when she did.

“I hope you’ll sleep well,” she said, “if you or Pakkun need anything, don’t hesitate to wake me.”

Lord Kakashi did not trust his voice enough to speak, and so only nodded, watching with a desperate aching in his chest as the Caretaker gathered her medical supplies and left his room, pulling the door closed behind her.

He swiped his hands over his face roughly, as if trying to shake himself from a poor dream. The bandage securely in place around his forefinger caught his attention and he stared at it for long moments after she had departed, wondering if he unraveled it whether that would be reason enough to recall her to his room.

Perhaps this time to ask her to stay.

Lord Kakashi and Pakkun departed the House early the next morning, leaving the Caretaker to attend to her duties in solitude.

It was the first time she had worked alone in long weeks, and the silence of it—the solitude of it—felt oppressive in a way it never had before.

She missed Lord Kakashi’s warm, rumbling voice as he teased her, his fumbling with the grate in the hearth when he deemed it too filthy a job for her, staining his shirt and his fingers and his cheek as he swept away the ash.

When she considered travelling half a world away with him, the Caretaker felt a certain jubilation she had not experienced in many years. Not since she and Genma had first discussed their futures had there been such a bright spark of hope in her chest. She lingered in such memories for a long while that day—recalling Genma’s promises of the world, his warm, brown eyes and soft hair—to distract herself from missing Lord Kakashi while he attended to his errands in the village.

Her visit home had been an unequivocal disaster; however, the Caretaker could see in retrospect there had been at least one small benefit. Seeing Genma’s mother and visiting his gravesite had brought a sense of finality to the life she had always imagined with him.

Though her affections for Genma Shiranui would forever linger in her heart, they brought no longer the sharp pain of loss. Or at least, they brought equally, fond memories of their time together, none of which she could ever regret, no matter what end their relationship inevitably came to.

She would love Genma always, but for the first time, she felt part of herself wondering if perhaps she might be allowed to love another in time.

The Caretaker banished her musings with a flick of her feather duster against her own nose, forcing several irritated sneezes from her to shake her thoughts away (and terrify the dogs who had followed her to doze as she cleaned).

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chided quietly, “just because your heart may feel free to love again, does not mean it should feel free to take advantage of your proximity to a man so far beyond your reach.”

Lord Kakashi had demons of his own, she knew. Demons she would never suppose she might be able to banish.

He deserved the love of someone who could stand at his side, rather than behind him. And no matter how worthy she deemed herself, the world at large would always see her as something less than a decorated Navy man, even a foreign one.

Had Lord Kakashi been privy to her internal reflections, things may have gone very differently in the coming days. Of course, none can understand another’s heart without asking and openness, which are difficult things to accomplish, particularly when both parties in question carry such scars on that very same organ.

“We’re back,” Lord Kakashi called from the entryway late that afternoon, holding a beleaguered-looking Pakkun in his arms.

“And how is our little patient?”

Pakkun huffed.

“Very unhappy, indeed,” Lord Kakashi admitted. “He has a sprain, though with a little rest, he should be good as new in a few weeks’ time.”

The Caretaker scratched Pakkun behind his velvety ears once Lord Kakashi set him down before the fire in the parlor.

“Better than new, I’ll wager,” she said.

The pug huffed again, but settled happily onto the carpet with what might almost be considered a smile as the other members of his pack swarmed around him, sniffing curiously at his wrapped leg.

The Caretaker noticed that Lord Kakashi did not remove his gloves or his boots, rather he lingered near the door with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels.

“Are you going back out?” she asked.

He nodded. “I am, but I was wondering if you might join me.”

The wintery weather had been rather abysmal of late, but that afternoon Lord Kakashi invited her out of doors, the Caretaker was pleasantly surprised by the warmth of the sun, despite the ominous clouds drifting across the horizon. They trudged across the muddy expanse of the grounds, avoiding icy spots as often as possible.

“How was your trip into the village?” she asked once they were some distance from the House.

“Quite fine,” he said, “obviously Pakkun was well attended to by the Inuzuka siblings, and I was able to procure two vouchers on a ship departing for Konoha in three days’ time.”

He said it so casually, but the grin on his face as he looked over at her made it very clear he was as elated as she.

“That’s very exciting,” she offered truthfully, “Thank you again for the invitation.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

And it was, for the moment. Though the elation would not last as long as either of them hoped.

They walked in silence the rest of the way, Lord Kakashi leading them obviously to the small cemetery plot. The Caretaker felt embarrassed that it had been so long since she’d visited Lord Hatake there. But she knew Sakumo’s son attended to him almost daily, and so her heart didn’t feel quite as heavy as she expected.

As they entered the sacred place, she looked overhead, skeptical of the dark grey clouds moving toward them.

“We won’t linger long,” Lord Kakashi promised when he noticed what had her attention, “it’s just a bit further.”

The Caretaker frowned, confused, as they walked past his father’s grave, but said nothing.

And when they reached the edge of the cemetery, her eyes widened.

For there was set a stone she had never seen before, obviously something taken from the grounds and erected in its current place by rudimentary hands.

Lord Kakashi’s hands.

It was carved with characters she did not understand—his native tongue in writing, she realized.

“I made this,” he said quietly, “so I could pay my respects to Obito Uchiha and Rin Nohara.”

The sounds of those two hardly familiar, but utterly unforgettable, names made the Caretaker’s lip tremble. She watched silently as he knelt—the pain of his damaged leg so obvious in the cold, with the rain coming—in the damp earth before the marker.

“In addition to visiting my father, I come here every day that I’m able. It’s a reminder of my losses, but also a reminder that I have an obligation to them.” He turned to look at her over his shoulder, his expression kind, but firm. “That because I survived, I must move forward so I can honor them with my own life.”

Tears welled in the Caretaker’s eyes despite her best efforts. She bit her lip to dampen the sound of her sob as she watched Lord Kakashi bow his head, lay one palm flat against the memorial stone, and whisper quietly in that language she did not understand. Her hands clasped together before her, the force of her grip nearly enough to split her knuckles open.

She trembled, shivering as the first cool drops of rain from the clouds overhead splashed against her cheeks and forehead.

When Lord Kakashi stood, his knees were stained dark from the dampness of the ground. He turned his face toward the sky, smiling wryly against the cold, piercing raindrops. “I hope you know you can use this place, too,” he said, lowering his chin so he might fix the Caretaker with an even stare, “to say what you might need to say to anyone you are missing.”

The Caretaker’s fingers twitched as she knotted her hands together tighter. She knew not what to say—knew not how to navigate this strange solicitation to acknowledge their shared grief in a place Lord Kakashi had built for such a purpose. An invitation to carve a space outside her chest where she might mourn felt utterly bizarre. Was that not unthinkable? To expect she might now have a place where she could linger in that ever-present sadness, but also leave it? Someplace where she might seed her grief; let it bloom beyond her body so she could still safely acknowledge it without remaining always—always—burdened by it.

What a gift that would be.

What a gift Lord Kakashi was presenting her, and yet she stood, dumb and silent, in the wake of his offer, her voice somehow as unreachable as Genma Shiranui’s face or her brother’s love.

She felt Lord Kakashi’s hand before she realized what was happening, his fingers slotting between hers, breaking her clenched hands apart, as he dragged her away from the memorial.

“Come along!” he called in a strangely cheerful voice as he began to run. “It won’t do for us to be out in this weather!”

She followed him, feet squelching in the mud as they dashed across the sodden grounds. And with every step, her heart felt lighter, as if she really had left the seeds of her sorrow in the cemetery to bloom in the spring at the foot of the monument erected by Lord Kakashi’s own hands.

They crashed through the kitchen door together, a mess of soaked, tangled limbs, both their faces bright with exertion and laughter. They shucked their coats and removed their shoes, letting them fall where they may by the entrance, each shivering as their damp skin made contact with the cool air of the kitchen.

“Perhaps I should have been more mindful of the impending weather before I dragged you out there with me,” Lord Kakashi admitted.

The Caretaker could only laugh, could only shake her head, because her words still failed her.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he said, much quieter this time, “and I hope you know I mean it when I say you can use the memorial if you need to.

She should not have looked him, then. Had she not, they might have merely parted ways, gone to their separate chambers to change into fresh dry clothes.

But the Caretaker did look at Lord Kakashi, then, and the feeling that blossomed in her chest was far more beautiful, far more unruly, than any summer garden she had ever tended.

No more was her desire for him barred behind the veneer of her sadness. It was as if in bringing her to that place, he had opened a dam inside her, and she was suddenly flooded by every good feeling that had ever been held behind it.

Because if Lord Kakashi could leave his torments there, then why shouldn’t she, as well?

She wanted him, and though she knew she should have realized that a long time ago, it was only now, only drenched to the skin in the kitchen after a run home from a graveyard, that she could rightfully acknowledge as much.

Lord Kakashi returned her gaze curiously, noting the subtle change in her expression, the way she seemed so much less guarded than at any other moment before, even when he’d woken her from her nightmare.

“I—”

She stepped forward, which was another mistake. Because the tiles were soaking wet beneath them, where the water from their coats had seeped from the fabric, spreading over the floor in a dangerous glaze.

The Caretaker’s footing was not sure enough and she slipped, leg flailing out from beneath her in a wild arc. Her eyes went wide, arms and skirts spinning out.

She could feel it already, the sharp sting as her elbow and her head cracked against the floor beneath her.

But she did not expect to be saved. And when Lord Kakashi’s arms enveloped her, one at the back of her head and the other at her waist, everything lurched. Her head swam, her hands moving instinctively—one to the counter behind her, and the other…

“Are you all right?”

Lord Kakashi’s voice was too close, the sweeping breeze of his breath fanning over her face in a warm, appealing huff.

“F-fine,” she said, finally finding her voice.

They were so close, as close as they’d been any night they’d comforted each other—closer, maybe, one of his legs between hers, his thigh rubbing invitingly upward.

The Caretaker watched his eyes for any hint of dismissal or disagreement as she leaned forward, but found none. And Lord Kakashi’s eyes slid closed as her lips met his, soft and delicate and promising.

The kiss was nothing of particular sensuality; a mere meeting of mouths. But it lit twin fires in their bellies, building flames of desire so long dissuaded.

When they pulled apart, the Caretaker’s mouth curved into a smile as wide and true as any she’d ever worn.

And for a moment, Lord Kakashi’s face mirrored hers; breathtakingly, blindingly happy.

Then his eyes slid lower and saw the way her hand clutched at the silver locket still wound around her throat, settled against her breastbone; the way that, even in the wake of their kiss, her fingers stroked over the metal lovingly, wearing through the delicate filigree work as if trying to reach inside to those held within.

To the lost love of her life.

He would not do that again, he decided; would not step into a role meant for another, play a part to which he was wholly unsuited. What was he thinking? She, like Rin, deserved far better than he could ever give her.

The Caretaker batted her eyelids as Lord Kakashi steadied her on her feet and stepped away. He bowed politely, “If you’ll excuse me,” and strode out of the kitchen without even glancing back at her, too determined to make it to his room before he lost control of his emotions.

She stood there a long time before she realized what happened. And when she did, she fell to her knees, splashing water onto her skirts and soaking them through, one hand still clawing into the counter while the other ripped at the locket, biting the chain into her neck before it broke in two. She held it in her fist, the metal of the hinge splitting the skin of her palm until it bled.

It had been no more than an impulse as her body flew through space, the grasping of the locket only a perfunctory motion. A reflex.

Such a small movement of her body, one she had performed countless times before in search of comfort or relief, but that that afternoon meant nothing. Only that she had felt it flying away from her and wanted to hold it, to keep it from hitting her or catching on something as she fell.

She should have taken it off, she thought, should have left it in a drawer a long time ago.

That she still found comfort in it seemed now a betrayal. Her reflexes, the cause of yet another wound she was not sure she would be able to repair.

As she sobbed once more in the kitchen of Hatake Manor, the Caretaker wondered if such a small thing might somehow prove to be the greatest mistake of her life.

Lord Kakashi believed himself a fool. As he shucked his sodden clothes, peeling them away from his body as they greedily clung to every inch, he blinked away hot, shameful, embarrassed tears.

To think any woman could want him, could love him, after the committal of all his many sins, was a farce. A fantasy he created to sustain himself in his loneliness.

Certainly, they were nice dreams. Better than any of his books.

But the reality remained that the Caretaker’s heart still belonged to the dead, as his should. That he had felt himself ready to perhaps move forward for the first time since he watched the life drain from Rin Nohara’s face seemed suddenly so cruel. So selfish.

Of course he did not deserve such things.

To laugh with the Caretaker as they stood side-by-side, to take her across the ocean to the home where he had once welcomed Rin as his wife.

To imagine a life with her, a future with her, was despicable. A wretched curse he would have to bear the rest of his life.

Lord Kakashi did not leave his room until very late in the evening, foregoing supper in lieu of a fitful and disturbed sleep. He tried to read, but failed to take in any of the words, his mind always drifting back to the kitchen. To the smile on the Caretaker’s face before she kissed him, the blinding heat of shame and betrayal when he’d noticed the locket in her hands.

He found the Caretaker on the veranda that evening, long after she would usually have been in bed. She stood in the exact place where she had first told him of her own heartache, the losses of her brother and her fiancé to the same conflict. He recalled the way her own guilt shone around her neck, a silver shackle, far heavier in truth than it could ever be in weight.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

The Caretaker had heard his approach and her easy acquiescence to his company made as much obvious even to such an oblivious man as Lord Kakashi.

For if he had considered the events in the kitchen for half a moment, he might have realized that it was she who leaned in to kiss him. Might have understood the look upon her face as he pulled away as one of deep hurt and regret.

But some things are much easier to see when they are not right in front of you.

They stood there a long while, beside one another, neither willing to voice the raging inferno of their thoughts.

The Caretaker longed to apologize, to explain herself, though any method by which she might do so felt shallow. A betrayal of other loves, long lost.

And Lord Kakashi knew any apology for his action would fall woefully short, and he was exhausted by his own inadequacy already.

Finally, after they both shivered for too long in the cold, gazing sightlessly out across the dark grounds of the Estate, Lord Kakashi cleared his throat. “After some thoughtful consideration,” he said, “I think perhaps it’s better if you do not accompany me to Konoha.”

The Caretaker felt the dim flicker of hope still burning within her heart wane—“I believe I overstepped my boundaries when I made the invitation,” he added matter-of-factly—and then snuff out.

“I understand,” she said, hoping to convince herself of that same fact if she voiced it aloud.

Lord Kakashi did not help with the chores those next few days. The Caretaker went about her duties as if in a dream, mindless and exhausted. The distance between them grew even wider than when he had first arrived.

She set the table for him, but ate in the kitchen, and Lord Kakashi did not seek to correct her.

They avoided one another as much as possible; did not speak of the cemetery. Or the kitchen. Nor any of the other instances in which it should have been clear there had grown a great affection between them.

That Lord Kakashi wanted desperately for her to come with him, that the Caretaker wished for the same, remained unspoken.

Her heart leapt into her throat the day of his departure when he finally said, “I hope it will not be an inconvenience for me to leave the dogs with you. I’ll take Pakkun, but there’s no reason for the others to make the voyage when it’s so arduous.”

She looked at him, eyes wide and hopeful, as he stood across the room, as far from her as he could be while still maintaining eye contact.

“That would, of course, be fine. I’ll take good care of them,” she promised.

“I know you will.”

It was the only conversation they shared before Pakkun and a meager travel bag joined Lord Kakashi on his horse to set off for the ship that would take him home to Konoha.

Still, it did light a small, dim flame of hope in the Caretaker’s chest.

For if Lord Kakashi was leaving the majority of his pack in her care, it meant he had every intention of returning eventually.

She only hoped it would not be long.

#lemony scribbles #🍋 mix and match #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #fem!reader #historical au #kakashi fanfiction #long-winded historical au clusterfuck #this isn't new! i'm just catching up on things i posted to ao3 during my tumblr hibernation!

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willsimpforanyone · 3 years ago

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Dating Harry Hook and Uma

not requested, i've just been watching the third movie on repeat and the two of them are the definition of gay panic

gender neutral!reader bc unless requested i default to they/them pronouns for fics

that, and i feel like harry is a pan disaster (same) and uma is an in control bisexual

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

- look me in the EYES and tell me they aren't together

- uma is the dominant personality in the relationship here, very possessive over her boy

- so when she initially sees you and harry chatting on the docks, she's not impressed

- sure, harry's naturally flirty personality occasionally gets him into trouble with uma

- but this time... his smile seems more natural

- less flirty, more enjoyment of a conversation

- until he catches her eye and immediately bids you goodbye, stalking away from you and right over to uma's side

- that night, she practically interrogates him

- 'who were they? what were you talking about? what were you doing talking with them?'

- harry answers them all, always honest with his captain

- he thought you were cute, you were sweet but he would never, ever do anything without uma's express permission

- that begged the question '...you want to do something with them?'

- there's a moment's hesitation in harry's eyes

- 'if you want to, then i have to meet them. no one gets to be near you unless i know they're worth it'

- the next day, harry dragged uma across the docks, spotting you immediately helping to load crates onto a small boat

- uma's face gave no indication that she thought you were cute, merely raising an eyebrow at harry stealing the crate away from your arms

- he threw it in the boat and grabbed your hand, dragging you over to his captain

- 'presenting... uma, captain of the lost revenge'

- hot damn was his captain pretty

- i mean between the two of them, it was a wonder you didn't freak at how attractive they were

- 'ye' droolin' there, hun'

- apparently, you were less subtle than you thought

- the smirk on uma's lips was way too hot

- the meeting was short, as uma had captain's duties to attend to

- also a shift at the fish and chip shop

- so that evening she gave harry permission to go after you, provided he was clear with you that he was also dating her

- harry was exuberant, instantly grabbing her waist and spinning her round, the biggest grin on his face

- it was a little strange for uma, seeing her boyfriend with you whenever she was busy

- it wasn't jealousy, she knew that much

- after all, both her and harry had agreed that the relationship was open as long as there was consent between them

- she caught herself with a faint smile whenever she looked over at the two of you, and alarmingly she mentally called you her partner in her head

- it took her a while after you and harry started dating to realise that you invaded her thoughts as much as harry, that she thought you were gorgeous and funny and she genuinely looked forward to seeing you and harry on dates in the chip shop

- it wasn't uncommon for her to join your table after her shift, alternating between sitting next to harry and sitting next to you, welcome to join the conversation

- sometimes she could taste the gum you chewed when she kissed harry and wondered what it would be like to taste it firsthand

- it didn't take long for uma to mention it to harry, and it was hard to keep the wide grin off her face when he grabbed her hands and danced around the deck of the ship

- as for you?

- you started to feel your own eyes light up the way harry's did when you saw uma

- harry was open with you, and you appreciated his honesty

- and when you realised you were a little bit in love with both him and uma, you repaid him with your trust

- the beach was almost completely barren, the moon high, and harry was warm next to you

- 'hey, harry?'

- 'yeah?'

- 'you know uma?'

- 'i am, in fact, aware of tha' lass, yes'

- 'you're in love with her, right?'

- 'ye' kno' i am'

- you took a deep breath

- 'i think i'm in love with both of you'

- harry's fierce kiss caught you off guard

- 'ye' have no idea how happy tha' makes me!'

- harry was ecstatic, his two favourite people! in love! with each other! also with him!

- he grabbed your hand and pulled you up

- 'we're goin' ta uma righ' now!'

- you could do nothing but laugh as harry dragged you through the streets of the isle, muscle memory leading him straight to the chip shop

- it was empty, all the patrons had left and uma was alone, scrubbing haflheartedly at a table with a rag

- she didn't even turn at the sound of people entering

- 'we're closed, go home'

- 'aw, even for me, darlin'?'

- uma laughed and spun round, rag forgotten

- 'if you two are here for a date, you'll have to find somewhere else, i'm busy'

- harry said nothing, just nudged you forward and took a seat, gaze swapping between you and uma

- you cleared your throat, shifting nervously

- what if she didn't love you? what if harry was lying this whole time? what if you never saw them again? what if it worked out and the whole isle hated the three of you?

- uma quirked an eyebrow

- 'you know, i can feel your anxiety from here, what's up?'

- now or never

- 'uma, i've been going out with harry for a while and it's been amazing and i love him but...'

- there was a pause, and uma's stare sharpened; if you were gonna hurt her harry she would kill you

- '...i also love you, and i only told him literally ten minutes ago and he dragged me here to tell you and i don't know if you feel the same way but it would be really cool if you did because then we could all date but if you don't feel the same way that's totally fine obviou-!'

- you were again caught off guard by a kiss, but this time it was from uma

- she pulled away, and lightly punched you arm

- 'you were rambling'

- harry coughed lightly from his seat

- 'tha' means she loves ye' too, in case tha' wasn' clear'

- your cheeks hurt from smiling so much

- uma's hand was warm in yours and she was smiling back at you and harry was next to you pressing a kiss to your temple and uma was pulling the three of you out of the shop and onto her ship

- there would, of course, be a discussion about the relationship between you all, uma would make sure of it

- but for now, you basked in the attention from your two partners, incomparably happy

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

okay i got a little carried away, but hoo boy they're both unfairly attractive

i'm gonna do a kind of part two, so look out for that!

#descendants #harry #harry hook #uma #huma #uma x harry x reader #huma x reader #poly!huma #poly!harry hook #poly!uma #poly!reader #bi!uma #pan!harry #polyamory #gender neutral!reader

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succulentsunrise · 3 years ago

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A Chance of Courage

- Small talks, small actions and small decisions lead to something momentous.

My piece for the YamiChar Week, Day 2! It is both a stand-alone and a continuation to my Day 1 fic 🥰

Edit: I've added a small directory!

Day 1 | All | Day 3

It is funny how sometimes even the smallest things can become an obsession in one’s mind. For Charlotte Roselei, this was the meeting she had had with Yami Sukehiro in the gardens a week prior. A cordial, common meeting - but the substance of it empty. Her mind kept replaying that meeting, her heart aching and leaping into conclusions. She knew that the more she thought about it, the more she was adding things into the scene. More meaningful stares. More subtle hints. The reality was probably something more reasonable.

“Sis?” Sol’s voice woke her up from her thoughts.

Charlotte turned towards the younger woman, straightening her back and trying to concentrate on her surroundings. They were sitting together outside, in the garden. Ah - that was why her thoughts had turned to the meeting again. The thought distracted her once more. She was in some aspect conscious that Sol was talking to her, but she found it difficult to concentrate on that. Sharing a moment like this with Yami would be impossible. He wasn’t the type of man to sit outside and read poetry. Charlotte liked poetry. It was proper and beautiful and oh - so romantic. She blinked, trying to listen to Sol again. What a beautiful morning it was…

“Sis, you’re not listening.”

The accusation wasn’t without reason, causing Charlotte to look slightly embarrassed and apologetic. She spoke gently, her eyes lowering down to the poetry book on her lap.

“My apologies, Sol.”

“What’s on your mind?” Sol asked, her young face painted with curiosity.

It would be too embarrassing to tell. Too difficult to tell to Sol. Charlotte shook her head with a small smile.

“I was wondering what inspired these authors to write so beautifully,” she lied.

“They probably couldn’t say what they wanted out loud, y’know,” Sol laughed with a grin.

Charlotte considered her for a moment. Sol was a vibrant person, full of life and brashness. She didn’t stop to consider things yet. She lived in the moment. Charlotte knew Sol looked up to her. Sol was still easily impressionable. Any opinion Charlotte presented, she echoed louder and coarser. Yes, Sol wasn’t refined, not like a noble. Perhaps it was what endeared her to Charlotte. Perhaps she liked coarse people. People like Sol and Yami. They both disarmed the wall of thorns she had built in her quest for control over her own magic.

They probably couldn’t say what they wanted out loud.

Charlotte found it a rather apt remark. Perhaps she should write one? No. Yami wouldn’t understand anything about poetry, and in any case, it would be rather too embarrassing. It was already embarrassing to try to come to terms with the fact that the ruffian had stolen her heart. With a sigh, Charlotte shook her head.

“You do not admire the ingeniousness of the poets,” she remarked to Sol. “Perhaps because you always have the right words for everything.”

Sol laughed a little more, its gay sound ringing in the air.

“I’ve got the words, alright, but sometimes they come out wrong! Or sometimes I mean to say something, but I say something else instead, something that I wasn’t supposed to say at all!”

“That’s because you speak quicker than you think,” Charlotte suggested, turning back to her poetry book.

Sol didn’t seem to mind her comment, and instead returned to her own project. She had decided to try embroidering on Charlotte’s insistence. So far, she seemed to be somewhat frustrated by the actual process, though delighted by the results.

Later that evening, Charlotte visited the marketplace at the Royal Capital. She never quite liked these trips. There were too many shouts, too many men staring, too many awed sighs. She steeled her face into a cold stare to keep people from approaching her and simply strode towards her destination: an antiquarian bookshop. It was a gold mine for old poetry books, and she had become a regular there by now. Her visit there was simple and sweet. The shopkeeper recommended a new arrival - a rather old poetry book by a rather old poet. Flipping through the pages, Charlotte had approved of its contents and taken it. Then, business concluded, she left. As she glanced around herself on the road, her gaze picked up a familiar figure far in the distance. The combination of dark hair, black cloak and the relaxed style of walking was impossible to not recognize. Yami. Next to him was one of his subordinates - Charlotte couldn’t quite remember his name. She considered for a moment going after them and talking, but her pride won over. She wouldn’t know what to say. In any case, it was too embarrassing, running after a man. Charlotte turned to the opposite direction, deciding to take the long way home. This time she tried specifically not to think of Yami. She avoided the parks of the Royal Capital with the exact purpose of not remembering their meeting. She kept the poetry book she had just bought out of her sight and she stopped herself from wondering about what Yami was doing here. She tried to concentrate on the other people wandering around: a group of young girls giggling and whispering in a group, several workers sitting together on a break, young children running across the street…

It was an impulse that made Charlotte stop at a street food vendor. She wasn’t especially hungry, but it had passed enough time from the last time she had eaten. A sweet smell had caught her attention, and the sight of the first berries of the year had enthralled her. She happily bought a snack and found herself a place nearby to eat it. Then, Charlotte sunk to her thoughts once more. She should’ve taken Sol with, most likely. Sol would’ve liked such a sweet snack. It’d be difficult to take one with, though. Would it stay good - and if she took one, wouldn’t she need to buy the whole squad some? No, it was too much trouble. Charlotte leaned her face to her hand and sighed. She’d just have to bring Sol here some other time. She couldn’t take the whole squad. For now she would just enjoy the atmosphere of the city, eat her little snack and go home. There were still some reports to be written. Charlotte’s thoughts became immediately busy with planning. She’d first write that one, then turn to the mission business - and then there was that case of misconduct from one of the girls. Yes, that would be very important to investigate. She would make sure there was something in that accusation before she’d let it slip through her fingers.

A series of voices caught Charlotte’s attention as she pondered her duties.

“--it’s great for all tastes, Captain!” a warm, insistent tone explained, half-apologetic, half-excited. “You could bring anyone here and they’d find what they’d like!”

The young man speaking was dressed in greens - Charlotte recognized him immediately as that subordinate of Yami’s. Her gaze moved quickly next to the man. Yes, Yami was with him. Scratching the back of his neck as he was squinting at the street vendor’s food, he seemed unimpressed and unwilling to be there.

“Just get what you want, and let’s go,” she heard Yami grunt.

It was clear they were here because of the subordinate. Somehow, while Charlotte had tried to avoid them, they had run to Charlotte. She felt a slight flush come to her face. Yami moved away from the vendor, waiting at the side for the subordinate to pick what he wanted. Charlotte stood up, impulse taking over. Several things jumped in her mind: the meeting, the fact that poets couldn’t say what they wanted, the fact that Yami was right there and that Yami was coarse like Sol, and that Sol spoke quicker than she thought. They didn’t make much sense like that, but they were what drove Charlotte to walk up to Yami.

“Oh, hey.”

Yami’s greeting expressed his surprise well. The eyes that stared at her were shrouded in that dumb gaze. Charlotte spoke fast and breathily, forgetting to draw air while speaking. She didn’t want the subordinate to hear.

“I was wondering if you’d meet me tomorrow evening.”

“Tomorrow?”

Yami’s gaze flickered to the skies. He scratched his cheek.

“Look at you,” he then answered, and Charlotte could swear there was a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Sure.”

“Tomorrow then. Let’s say at six, at the--”

“--at the Grove,” Yami interrupted with a smirk.

Charlotte’s composure faltered, the stream of words sputtering to an end. She felt her face become fully red as she tried to regain her ability to speak. The Grove? It wasn’t the one she had planned to suggest, but it was an alright dining place. Not as fine as she had thought of - but it wasn’t that big of a deal. Perhaps because she hadn’t planned it out properly yet. From the corner of her eye, she saw Yami’s subordinate turn to look for his captain. She didn’t want him to see this.

“Cat got your tongue? The establishment not good enough?” Yami teased.

Yes, it was teasing. Charlotte could recognize it, even when his expression looked hurt and insulted. He had perfected that look.

“It’s fine,” Charlotte muttered, embarrassed and caught off-guard.

Yami smiled.

It was a smug smile.

Charlotte whirled around and went back to where she had been sitting, picking up her things and leaving with her half-eaten snack. She couldn’t bear to stay there any longer. No, she needed to go and work on the reports.

That was - if she could concentrate on them after this.

#Yami Sukehiro #Charlotte Roselei #black clover #yamichar #yamichar week 2021 #yamichar week

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unusualindigo · 2 years ago

Text

These Magic Moments: Drive

AD 2207, 5/28, 13th Hierarchical City of Kagutsuchi– Ronin-gai

Bang Shishigami sighs dramatically as he hunches over a pylon jutting out over his district. Ever since his interference with the Maiko Troupe, and their leader, Amane Nishiki, he’s felt an inescapable barrage of guilt. Amane’s banning of him from their shows almost put the troupe’s donations in danger, but Bang had quickly reminded the people that they should be generous to those in need, regardless of personal grudges. He loses himself in thought for a few minutes, reflecting on the pervasive tension of the past few days.

Eventually, he mutters to himself. “I must apologize, that is the only way.”

With a sagely nod to himself, Bang shoots from his perch and onto the rooftops, speeding towards the caravan that awaits in the lower part of Ronin-gai.

He arrives at his destination only minutes later, thanks to his prodigious speed. He looks up to see an irritated Azuki striding towards the main wagon of the caravan. He swallows thickly, preparing himself for what will no doubt be a tense negotiation.

Amane doesn’t disappoint, looking cross as soon as he catches sight of Bang from his slightly ajar door. Even while fighting off the dregs of sleep, and without his exquisite makeup, the man is devastating. His long purple tresses fall elegantly over the shoulders of his pink sleeping yukata, rustling fluidly with each step. His geta clack wrathfully as he strides over to Bang, drowsily glaring with a fierceness that belies his undress. Bang worriedly notes that his knees feel weak for some reason.

“Shishigami. What are you doing here? Was I not clear?” Amane stops about three meters away, his ribbons swaying dangerously in the breeze. His voice is low and husky with sleep. Bang slightly trembles with emotion.

Bang bows deeply at the hip, keeping his gaze submissively upon the ground. “Nishiki, I apologize for my unseemly behavior the other day. Such hasty judgement is not befitting of a man such as I.”

Amane scoffs and quirks a thin brow. “Hmph. And why should I accept your apology?”

Bang freezes stiff. “W-What?” He nervously raises his wide amber eyes, only to flinch at the icy blues that meet him mercilessly.

“You cost me a chance to recruit Carl and made my boys cry. Why should I forgive you, Shishigami?” Nishiki crosses his arms haughtily, his eyes fully losing their drowsy fog as he gives Bang a rueful stare.

Bang rises, a deep sorrowful frown tugging at his lips. “N-Nishiki. I understand that I’ve caused you a lot of trouble, but I don’t want to part ways like this. Please, allow me to make amends.” Bang plants his studded knuckles on the exposed flesh of his hips, just under the red rope of his fundoshi.

Amane narrows his eyes to give Bang a look over. After a few moments of intense scrutiny, he murmurs something softly under his breath.

Bang blinks. “Pardon?”

Amane blinks, then looks annoyed. “Are your buddies up yet? Maybe hanging around again?” Amane warily looks around.

Bang shakes his head, jostling his spiky brown ponytail. “No. I came alone, as a man should when confronting those he has wronged.”

Amane hums. “I see. Go get them.”

Bang blinks again. “Huh? Why?”

Amane scoffs. “Because for the next week, you’ll be taking up guard duty for me and my boys. We’ve had some trouble with bandits in Ikaruga, and we’re getting tired of chasing them off.”

Bang nods slowly. “I see. But, what of the people of Ronin-gai? I can’t simply leave them defenseless.”

Amane whips open a fan from his obi to cover a yawn, waving his for once plain fingernails dismissively. “I don’t need all of them. Leave someone behind to cover for you. But make it snappy.” Amane looks Bang dead in the eye. “If you’re not back by the time I finish getting ready, we’re leaving things as is. Got it?”

Bang nods, feeling a chill run down his stiff spine. “R-Right! I, Bang Shishigami, am honored to be your guardian!”

Amane looks at Bang like a duchess looks at a particularly loud puppy. Bang sweats nervously. He bursts off in a flash of trademark speed, to retrieve his comrades.

Amane uses his fan to keep the dust from his now rolling eyes. “Hmph.”

Once Bang is out of sight, Amane pivots and strides back over to the caravan, a smirk tugging at his soft lips. Sitting near the fire, Haru and Natsu watch him with knowing smirks of their own as he passes, and Amane scoffs good-naturedly. His boys always did have such keen eyes.

AD 2207, 5/31, Ikaruga Federation – Unknown Area

“Boss, are you sure you should still be up there?” Aka’s wary whisper breaks the silence of the moonless night, his green eyes narrowing under heavy raven brows.

Bang glances down at his comrade with a bright smile. “Ha-ha! Do not worry about me, Aka! I am perfectly fine!” He uses a hearty thumbs up to complete his reassurance.

“But Boss, you look terrible. Are you sure you don’t want to catch some sleep?” Aoi asks, his grey eyes wide and ginger brows pinching with worry.

“Nonsense. I don’t need to sleep yet. I’m just fine.” Bang smirks as he turns his eyes back to the horizon.

Aka and Aoi share a glance, then turn to him with renewed vigor. “But Boss, we—!"

“Ugh, can you be quiet already?” Koji’s deep grumble cuts in from the wagon behind them, and Bang cringes. They’ve been too loud again. That means…

“Shishigami, a word?” Amane’s messy bed head pokes out from the lead wagon, and Bang reluctantly rushes to the window, where Amane glares at him balefully. “You need to sleep. You can’t keep this up.”

It’s true. Bang’s spiky ponytail is far more of a mess than usual, ready to burst from its red band. He has also begun to form heavy maroon bags under his eyes. He’s been insistent on taking the night watch twice now and has gotten precious little sleep in the form of power naps for the last two days. All to put off the inevitable, it would seem.

Nevertheless, Bang valiantly fights back a yawn to protest Amane’s verdict. “N-Nonsense! I can go on just f— Mph!"

Amane’s icy glare deepens as he covers Bang’s loud mouth with his hand, shivering slightly at the warmth meeting his slightly chilly palm. Bang’s always run hot. “Shishigami, get in here. I have a spare shikibuton somewhere, and you need to rest. Tell one of your buddies to take over.”

Amane pulls his hand away a few centimeters, and Bang reluctantly looks to his former perch, to see Aka has already taken his place. Seeing no use in any further arguing, Bang reluctantly shimmies through the window.

After a few moments of groggy searching, Amane finds his spare bedding and hands it over to Bang, who promptly unfurls it just under the window.

Amane scoffs tiredly. “Shishigami, put it next to mine. We’ll have to share the blankets.”

Bang’s face heats up, his eyes going wide. “W-What?”

Amane rolls his eyes and conjures a ribbon to drag the tiresome man away from the window. “Well, I don’t have any spare blankets, and I don’t feel like making any. So, you’ll just have to man up and bear with me. Just keep your back to mine and it’ll be fine.” Amane yawns behind his hand.

Bang shivers as he watches this. He feels his heart jolt at such a sight. It’s almost… cute. He freezes at the thought. “I-I, Bang Shishigami, cannot be thinking of another man as cute!” Bang quickly shakes his head to dispel the notion.

Amane watches him with a knowing deadpan stare. He quirks a brow when Bang finishes imitating a dog trying to dry off. “Are you done? I’m going to bed now, and if you don’t hurry up, I’ll just keep the blankets to myself.”

Bang jolts, then quickly undresses to follow Amane’s lead, pressing his now bare back to the other man’s, shivering at the feeling of the soft fabric against his naked muscles.

Amane drifts off with a scoff, falling soundly asleep only seconds later. Bang sends several minutes subtly squirming, trying to be comfortable. He’s never been much of a side sleeper. Amane groans, and Bang stills, willing himself not to move any further, lest he rouse the dancer. He clenches his eyes shut, listening to Amane’s soft breaths. He drifts off a few minutes later, oblivious to the soft smile on the other man’s lips.

AD 2207, 6/2, 6th Hierarchical City of Yabiko – Unknown Area

Amane hums cheerfully to himself as he packs away the last of their newly gotten supplies. With Bang and his buddies serving as guards, the local bandits have finally given up for the time being. Amane is glad to have been magnanimous enough to let Bang work his way back into his good graces.

“Nishiki, are you sure we don’t need more blankets?” Bang looks anxiously at the fully stocked wagons, hoping to spy even a spare stitch of extra fabric.

Amane huffs, rolling his eyes. Here they go again. “Yes, I’m sure, Shishigami. We need the room for other things more, and your buddies will be free to do whatever it is you ninjas do when we reach Ookoto. It’s just a few more days, you’ll be fine.” He pivots to brush past Bang haughtily.

Bang feels his stomach drop. Sharing blankets with Amane isn’t exactly unpleasant, and that’s precisely the problem. He’s getting way too comfortable with the pretty boy.

His comrades are also feeling uneasy, surrounded by such beautiful men on all fronts. Kiiro even confesses to having thought quite favorably of the twins, Haru and Natsu. The poor man is beyond distressed by his feelings now.

Bang needs to do something. “Wait, Nishiki! Is it possible for Kiiro to trade places with myself?”

Amane freezes and then turns to look at Bang with a mask of disinterest. “Oh? Why? Is there a problem with my boys?” Amane’s eyes narrow dangerously.

Bang shudders. This man knows how to shake him, that’s for sure. “N-No! It’s just… Cabin fever!” Bang smiles triumphantly as he thinks of such an ingenious excuse for his comrade.

Amane scoffs. “And how will moving to a different wagon fix that? Wouldn’t taking the night watch be a better solution?”

Bang sweats nervously. Amane’s seen clean through his deception. “I-I suppose, b—!"

Amane swiftly walks toward him, then pokes a finger into his chest. “Listen, Shishigami. I’m not blind. I’ve seen how he’s looking at my boys. If I thought they were uncomfortable for even a second, he wouldn’t be traveling with us. Got it?” Amane leans in to emphasize his point.

Bang nods instantly, his muscular frame shivering. “Y-Yes!”

Amane leans in closer, standing on his toes to brush noses with Bang, his voice growing husky. “And tell him to make up his mind already. Haru and Natsu are getting tired of his staring.”

Bang nods again, feeling yet more trembles travel up his otherwise rigid spine. “R-Right!”

Amane leans back, smiling and momentarily satisfied. “Good. Now, c’mon. We need to leave soon if we’re going to make it to Ookoto before you guys blow something.”

Bang sputters indignantly at the blatant double entendre, his face full of heat, burning scarlet.

Amane simply chuckles lowly and struts away with an extra bounce in his step. Bang never fails to be fun.

AD 2207, 6/5, 1st Hierarchical City of Ookoto – Unknown Area

As Ookoto becomes visible on the horizon, Bang huffs in relief. “Phew. We’re almost there.”

After conveying Amane’s warning, Kiiro has taken the night watch almost every day, sleeping in the twins’ wagon while they’re out during the day to avoid any more awkwardness. Bang himself has taken to thinking of the beauty of his old flame, Miss Litchi. But in his dreams, the creamy legs always grow thinner, that long hair lighter, and that soothing voice deeper. He shudders.

He’s broken out of his troubling thoughts by the yawning of Amane, who blinks blearily at his now-clothed back, his icy eyes tracing the crossing golden hammer and nail emblem on Bang’s green jacket through his messy purple tresses.

They sit in companionable, if stilted silence for a moment. Then Amane quirks a brow. “Something wrong, Shishigami?”

“N-No. It’s nothing. Good morning, Nishiki.” Bang glances over his shoulder, determinably keeping his gaze locked on Amane’s own, and not the exposed creamy flesh of the other man’s shoulder. That shoulder leads down to a smooth chest, where a hot pink nipple stiffens against the cold air. But Bang wouldn’t know this. He’s not looking down at all.

Amane huffs and pulls his yukata closed with a roll of his eyes. Bang stalwartly ignores some distant pang in his heart. They sit there, staring at one another for a few moments.

Thankfully, the sound of a shaky, breathy voice breaks the increasingly tense silence. “B-Boss? Are you up yet?” Kiiro, looking thoroughly disheveled, his long caramel hair obscuring his honey brown eyes.

Bang turns swiftly to open the window and poke his head out, where he sees the yellow-clad ninja standing awkwardly and shaking. Bang blinks in alarm at such a posture. “K-Kiiro? What’s wrong? Were we attacked in the night?”

Kiiro stiffens with a slight groan in his voice. “N-No, Boss. I just… Look, can we talk? In private?” Kiiro glances at Amane, incredibly nervous. The older man scoffs with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Seeing this, Bang promptly nods, then quickly joins Kiiro on the wagon’s roof. “What’s the matter, Kiiro?”

“F-Follow me.” Kiiro limps his way back to the roof of the rear wagon, his legs slightly spread as if he were riding a horse for too long.

“Strange.” Bang follows behind him, keeping a slower speed to keep a respectful distance from his clearly hampered comrade.

When they reach the rear, Kiiro shakily makes his way inside, and Bang follows.

“I-I kinda made up my mind…” Kiiro’s eyes are full of anxiety and fear, and Bang gasps dramatically. Could it be?

“I know I said I’d do my best to ignore them, but Boss, they’re just so—!” Kiiro yelps.

Bang clasps his comrade in a strong hug, tears of wonderous joy trailing down his scruffy cheeks. “There’s no need for words, Kiiro! We men of Ikaruga know to trust our hearts! Congratulations!”

Kiiro pauses, then returns the embrace as best he can, crying as well. “B-Boss! Thank you!”

Meanwhile, cuddled together under their blankets, Haru and Natsu pout at the ceiling of their wagon grumpily with narrowed lilac eyes. “So much for enjoying the afterglow.”

AD 2207, 6/5, 1st Hierarchical City of Ookoto – Unknown Area

The afternoon sun is high in the sky as Bang nervously walks beside Amane, toward the Mutsuki residence. He’s tried several times to broach the subject of their comrades’ newfound happiness, but Amane is entirely too casual about it.

“Nishiki, don’t you think we should at least talk about arrangements? Kiiro still has a responsibility to the people of Ronin-gai, and he’d feel terrible if we didn’t think of a way to split his time between them and your troupe.” Bang tenses when Amane pivots with a sharp huff.

“Alright, Shishigami. How about this? We’ll perform in Kagutsuchi once every few months, and Kiiro can do some work for you while we’re there.” Amane quirks a brow at Bang’s confused frown.

“H-Huh? That implies that he’ll be with you. I thought you didn’t want men such as us in your troupe?” Bang’s frown deepens when Amane stares at him like he’s stupid.

“Kiiro is plenty handsome. That curly long hair of his is positively darling, and that jawline is sharp enough to cut steel. He’s the picturesque example of a bishonen.” Amane resumes his stride towards the residence’s doors, and Bang scrambles to follow, his confusion worsening.

“W-What? Then why did you reject my offers? I’m the pretty boy of Ikaruga, you know! And my belly dancing—!” Bang cuts himself short when Amane turns to stare at him disbelievingly.

“You call that wiggling a dance?” Amane smiles with a quirking brow, clearly amused.

Bang feels his heart pang at such naked dismissal of his skill in the art. He’d worked hard to master it, and it always made Master Tenjo smile! “W-Why you! I’ll have you know that my dancing always brought happiness to any who bear witness to its glory! Even Master Carl could not help but to smile at my dance, despite his troubles!”

Bang takes a strong stance to emphasize his point. “The Ikarugan belly dance is a marvel of the dancing arts! The sight of it is always sure to bring peace and love to those who see it! Behold!”

Placing his hands firmly behind his head and pushing his hips forward, Bang dances his heart out for the cold man in front of him, as well as the bystanders nearby. He moves his hips tirelessly and fluidly for several minutes, enrapturing some and scarring others.

Amane, for his part, does his best to resist the wide smile that eventually splits his heating cheeks at the sight. Eventually, even his will must give to such an irresistible force. He doubles over and laughs his heart out at Bang.

Bang mistakes the amusement for sheer joy and smiles victoriously. “Ha-ha! You see Nishiki? Even you are not immune to my charms!” Bang begins to laugh himself, full of exuberance.

Amane feels tears slipping past his lips and offers thanks to the gods he always uses water-resistant makeup. After a few more moments a groan cuts through their shared laughter.

“What do you think you’re doing, Shishigami?” Kagura Mutsuki covers his wary purple eyes with a wrapped hand, his spiky black hair falling into his embarrassed handsome face.

Amane stills, his laughter stopping immediately. Right, he has business to attend to. He rises and wipes away his tears.

Bang also stills, angry at Kagura’s offensive implication that his dance is an embarrassment. The nerve of this man! “Mutsuki! Don’t tell me you’ve turned your back on the art!”

Kagura uncovers his narrowing eyes with a scoff. “Art? You don’t seriously think you look good, do you Shishigami? This poor lady was about to faint at the sight of you.” Kagura leans down to a quivering blonde woman in his arms. “Are you alright, milady?”

She blushes wildly, then nods. “Y-Yes, Lord Kagura…”

Kagura chuckles. “Good. I’d hate to see Shishigami wilt such a gorgeous flower before it blooms.” He leans in even closer. “Say, why don’t you come with me for some drinks to make up for his… antics?’

Amane and Bang cringe at the playboy’s flirting. This man is utterly incorrigible.

Amane breaks up the moment first, clearing his throat. “Ahem.”

Kagura glances at him coolly. “Clover’s a little right now, so can you come back later?” He turns back to the woman. “Now, about those drinks…?”

Bang breaks up the moment next. “What?! You are meant to be watching over him Mutsuki!” He takes a righteous stance, hunching over with a clenched fist as heat rises around him.

Amane leans into that heat unconsciously. It’s a nice contrast to the cool wind.

Kagura groans as he feels the moment finally slip away, the young woman looks uncomfortable. “I-I should go. Maybe another time?”

Kagura nods and releases her. “Sure thing, babe. Just let me know when you’re up to it.” He winks.

She blushes and smiles brightly before running off. How he does it, neither of the men across the street can understand.

Kagura turns to them with a stern frown. “Now look what you’ve done. If you wanna get mad at somebody, take it up with Rachel.”

Bang frowns in confusion. “Rachel? Do you mean that strange girl from back then? What does she want with Master Carl?”

Amane huffs. “Of course, she’s interested in him too. I suppose she just can’t help herself.” He ruefully shakes his head.

Kagura huffs to himself with a shrug and turns to go back inside. “Whatever. Since I know you’ll just break in anyways, why don’t you two come inside?” He confidently strides back into his home, and the two men follow with a shared glance.

#blazblue #blazblue fanfiction #amane nishiki #bang shishigami

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bluefirewrites · 3 years ago

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Prince Protection Program AU

The response to the last post has been amazing. Thanks guys. I don’t plan on making a full on story ( I did at one point, but I have a lot of WIPs to work on), but I still have some riffs to unleash. This is my take on the boys’ life pre-PPP. Enjoy!

(Also changed the name of Reggie’s kingdom and swapped it for Luke’s btw)

Link to first post and artwork

Palace life sucked ass.

Usually Lukas would experience that brief split-second of bliss waking up in the morning, where he would blink against the Mediterranean sun seeping through the cracks in his curtains, the feeling of his body cocooned in silk sheets hitting him first and not the fact that he was the Crowned Prince of Solaria.

But after that, it all came crashing down on him in the form of knocking on his door, followed by the more forceful opening of his door, and the filing in of his guardian.

“Ugh,” the prince rolled around, stuffing his head under a pillow, “Five… minutes…”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” James stalked over, tugging the covers off of him, causing Lukas to groan at the loss of warmth, “You know what today is.”

How could he not? It had only been the very thing his parents would talk about for the past year-

The day he would be crowned king.

As was tradition, he was seventeen years of age, the time for him to learn how to be a proper ruler to succeed his father King Mitchell.

Though the problem lay in the very fact that Lukas was many things.

But proper he was not.

Lukas rose, reluctantly, which struck James quite odd. Normally there would be more complaints, a bout or two before he would summon the guards to extricate him from the bed.

“I’ll-” A yawn broke out and the young man rubbed his eyes to rouse himself, “I’ll be there soon.”

James raised an eyebrow.

Lukas lifted a palm in good faith, “I promise.”

The older man stared at him for a moment before leaving to attend to other duties. As soon as he left, the prince quietly tip-toed to the doors, pressing his ear against the cool wood and waited. The sounds of footsteps faded, marking his guardian’s disappearance around the corner.

“Sucker,” Lukas laughed, before shrugging on a shirt, swiping his headphones off his desk, and booking it to his balcony.

He had about a minute and half to scale down the vines encasing his wing of the palace before the guards caught him.

Over the years, he had to get a bit creative to evade palace security, with his parents sealing off most exits, doubling the guards stationed by his window at night, but nowadays it was much easier to do the riskier, more obvious way to escape.

No one would expect it.

Hopping down to the lower level and pressing himself against the wall, he crab-walked until he found the door leading into the kitchen.

He slipped through, greeting the staff who all shook their heads at him. They knew better than to dissuade him from doing what he was about to do. All Geneveive, the head cook, could do was send him off with a bag of food with a “Hurry back now or James will have our heads.”

Biting off a piece of bread, he thanked her with a wink and was off, dancing around the extra busy kitchen and putting on his headphones in the process.

With Nirvana blaring in his ears, Lukas made it to the waterfront and hopped into one of the more modest fishing boats (exchanging one of Genevieve’s sponge cakes for the keys. Thank you, Garrison) and motored off to the islet a few miles out.

20 minutes later, he moored to the dingy port where two other boats were stationed on the small piece of land.

“Oh my god,” he heard someone holler, a guy about his age with jet-black hair and swim trunks, “Is that the future King of Solaria?”

Lukas rolled his eyes, lugging around the small back, “Oh my god. Is that Reginald? The future King of the Crescent Cape?” he mimicked.

Another boy, blonde and tall, lay under the shade of a tree reading, scoffed, “Unfortunately.”

Reginald and Lukas locked eyes and smirked.

“Wait,” Reginald squinted at the blonde, “Is that- No way! It is, Lukas!”

“It so is!” Lukas gasped excitedly, “You’re Prince Alexander!”

“Of the Grybrian Isles? OMG!”

“Thought he’d be taller,”

“Thought he’d be more handsome,”

Alexander got to his feet, rolling his eyes, “Alright. Can you two be any more louder? Do you want them to find us?”

“Chill, they haven’t caught us yet,” Reginald reassured, leading the two other princes deeper into the patch of greenery on the tiny island, one that they all had discovered and have been running to to get away from prince duties for years now.

Lukas would have been driven to madness by royal duties if it weren’t for his friends from the neighboring kingdoms. He, Reginald, and Alexander had known each other their whole lives, their domains all clustered together that made visiting each other so easy.

But every now and then, they needed to get away from the watchful eye of their parents and guards and the citizens and just be… them.

Lukas was lucky to know that he wasn’t alone in feeling this way, and that he could always turn to his friends.

“You goons better be hungry,” Lukas announced, tossing the bag of food their way.

Reggie dug into the snacks ravenously, “When aren’t we?”

Meanwhile, Alex was pacing, set on a nervous bender, “Aren’t you guys… I don’t know… kinda nervous?”

“Hey,” Lukas flicked a crumb at the other prince, hitting his calf mid-stride, “Thought we weren’t gonna talk about it today.”

“We’re all gonna be king soon, how can we not talk about it?”

The three of them sighed.

Alexander continued on the runway, “I mean, do you feel ready? I’m not ready,”

“Nope,” Reginald popped the ‘p’, frowning, “I hate being the oldest.”

“Why do we have to rule a country at 17? That’s stupid,” Lukas complained, searching through the bushes

“‘It’s tradition, Alexander. It’s what you must do. For the good of Grybria’,” Alexander impersonated, “Ugh. My brother just had to abdicate. Can’t I do that? Can I just abdicate?”

“Your dad would never let you,”

“Maybe if I told him I’m gay, he’d disown me?”

“Alexander,” Lukas warned.

“I was joking!” the blonde muttered, “...mostly.”

“Well what about me?” Reginald started, “I couldn’t take care of a bunny. How can I run a country?!”

Lukas felt around the ground until he hit leather and lugged out a guitar case he had stashed for safe keeping.

“Boys, let’s just… drop it today,” he deescalated. Funny, since he was up for coronation first, his rehearsal ceremony in a few hours, but he was determined to squeeze in some quality time with his friends before he couldn’t anymore, “Can we just chill? For a little while?” While they still could...

The other princes nodded.

“Okay. Now…” he took out his guitar and slung the strap over his shoulder, “Wanna jam?”

That brought a smile onto all of their faces.

They gathered in a circle, Lukas signaling at Alexander, who immediately began clapping a beat:

“1, 2, 3, 4-”

Tagging: @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles @echocharm17618 @rainfallingfromthesky @pink-flame @ourstarscollided @caffeine-catastrophe @nottheleastbrave @brightattheorpheum @thedeathdeelers @tmp-jatp @lenacarstairspotterstewart @harpersdagger @annabelle-grisha-goddess @shelvesofgold @lwhoscribbles @futurearchaeologyprof @iridescentkippen @heademptynothoughts @crummycassidy @smolfangirl @a-dream-so-alive @that-one-utensil @lucid-h @homeinabookshelf @beaniesflannelandfannypacks @ilovefandoms @it-tastes-like-lizard

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #PPP!AU #prince protection program #prince protection program!AU #drabble #jatp au #tagging those who showed love on the last post #thank you!#hope you enjoy #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters

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zodiyack · 4 years ago

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Opposites Attract; Act V

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Female!Pierce/Petrova!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst/violence

Words: 1,098

(Series) Summary: The younger sister of Katherine was the true owner of Damon’s heart, Katherine only being his worry in 1864 due to the sister’s bond, the bond that fueled Katherine to force Y/n to join her when she escaped Mystic Falls and left Damon to think they were both in the tomb.

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @simonsbluee, @darling-i-read-it, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione, @sana-li, @local-depresso-gay-idiot, @jenepleurepasbaby, @lady-salvatore, @yolobloggers, @thecraziestcrayon, @tranqs-main-mami, @lawlerek, @agustdpeach, @jenjie, @iclosetgeek, @avengersgirllorianna, @rosiesimone819, @caseysalvatore, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything

Masterlist | The Vampire Diaries Masterlist

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI.

“C’mon, you don’t want to do this, Damon.” Stefan tried to explain. If anything, his frantic attitude should’ve outlined the point he’d been trying to make in a bold yellow like the highlight pen he used for school.

But perhaps that highlighter was out of ink. “Trust me, brother, I do.”

Damon was stubborn, anyone who knew the vampire knew of that fact, but Stefan was stubborn when it came to his “hero-hair” duties. The brothers were more similar than either of them thought, so getting one to back off the other was a battle that lasted for what felt like centuries. Stefan wouldn’t give up until Damon agreed to leave Katherine alone.

“Damon, I don’t want to lock you down there to desiccate again, but if I have to, I will.” He honestly would if it came to that. Stefan wanted Damon to just stay out of trouble and if the opportunity presented itself, he’d take it with only the smallest bit of hesitation.

“Why do you want me to back off of Katherine so badly, Stefan?” Damon narrowed his eyes. “The bitch tricked you into dying for her, literally! So why on earth would you be...” His sentence faded away. And then suddenly- as if a lightbulb had clicked over his head, his gaze snapped back up to Stefan’s, “Tell me you haven’t.”

“Haven’t what?”

“Fallen head over heels for narcissistic vamp bitch!” The raven haired brother pointed an accusing finger at him, “I swear to god, Stefan, tell me you didn’t!”

“What?!” Pure disgust was evident on his features, “No! God no! I just...it’s best for you, if you really want Y/n back.”

“Not fighting Katherine?”

“Yeah.”

“How would that do anything for me in my relationship? What’s so bad about killing Katherine? I’d be a hero!”

“Well...to us, maybe, but your little ‘crush’, not so much. Because killing Katherine, Y/n’s sister, would make your ‘mission’ fail instantly.”

“Oh...” Damon finally came to his senses, Stefan’s point clicking and wiping away the tenseness in his body. “Yeah, that uh...that makes sense.”

Stefan “Aaaand I figured you’d like that more than option b.”

His brows furrowed and eyes squinted for the second time, however, his confusion was genuinely just puzzled rather than blaming. “What’s option b?”

“Making amends with Katherine. Getting all brother and sisterly with her. You know, in law bonding?” His teasing smirk poked fun at Damon and grew wider as his face shriveled with discomfort and repugnance. “Thought so.”

“Still can’t get enough of me?” Katherine sneered.

“You wish. I’m here for your sister.”

Katherine’s entire form suddenly grew tense. Her once relaxed stance became protective and guarding. “I told you last time, you can’t have her. She doesn’t need you, and you don’t deserve her.”

“Funny, I thought I said the same thing about you.” Her jaw clenched as Damon’s smirk crawled higher towards his eyes.

“I’d back off if I were you.”

“Again, same thing to you.”

The childish attitude was a constant with Damon, making it nearly impossible to tell whether he was deviating against the plan Stefan and the others helped him out with, or just doing it to spite Katherine. Bonnie had preformed a locater spell on the vampire, bringing them to their current location, and Stefan got their new companion, Alaric, to help him in making sure Damon didn’t fuck everything up. He knew his older brother, been the target of his temper, so he knew things could go south in record speed.

“C’mon Damon, don’t do it,” he muttered to himself repeatedly. They were lucky enough to find a spot where he could hear what was going on, not that he needed his vamp hearing to be able to catch the excessively loud voices, and see the showdown with close-to-front row seats.

Alaric gave him a look every now and then, telling him silently that he was ready whenever Stefan was. It started to get heated, Katherine inching towards Damon, the fury in her eyes growing more intense with each quip that slipped from his mouth, Damon cockier by the second. It was only a matter of time before they needed to step in. It was only a matter of time before Damon fucked up.

“You know, I only ever meant to save Stefan, right? Had I known Y/n gave you her blood, I would’ve ripped your heart from your chest before you had the chance to turn.”

“And had I known you were going to leave the church, where I thought the love of my life was for the past century, to burn while you were really taking her away from me, I would’ve shoved you inside that damn church and left you to rot in hell, where you belong, while Y/n and I rode of into the sunset and lived happily ever after.” His smile was still too playful to be read. The glow in his eyes and tightness of his lips accentuated the darkness behind his “had I” story.

Katherine’s eyes pierced pun intended into Damon’s. The veins below her brown orbs darkened, fangs protruded from her gums. In the blink of an eye, she lunged at Damon, but then, she was on the ground, a vervain tranquillizer sticking from her body.

“Damn,” she struggled to form the final words, drowsiness already creeping over her, “you,” a glare met Damon’s mocking expression, “Salvatore.”

Damon clapped, victory dance ready to be initiated. “Nice shot, Ric! Great timing too!”

He waited for a response from their, human, vampire hunter friend, but Alaric’s tone wasn’t victorious like Damon’s, nor was his response quickly given. “That wasn’t me...”

The weapons he’d brought along were wooden bullets, his shot good enough to avoid hearts on purpose and keep the vampires alive if need be. Last he checked, the only vervain equipped item he currently had on his person was a vervain bomb, which he promised not to set off.

Damon whipped around, meeting his brother and Alaric, whom had raced over the second Katherine went down, and their concerned expressions. Stefan realized something was off at the same time as Alaric; he hadn’t fired any weapons and Stefan made sure to know what objects that could kill him were in his presence at all times.

“If it wasn’t you two... then who- What fortunate bastard do I have to spare tonight?”

“Me. Although, correct me if I’m wrong,” the three turned towards the voice, Damon’s eyes widening as Y/n entered his view, nearing closer and closer with each step she took, “I believe you’d spare me either way.”

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sideofmango · 4 years ago

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“Under the Mistletoe”

Pairings: ochako uraraka x fem! reader Pronouns: she/her/hers Warnings: lgbtqia+ reader, light cursing, fluff, Kaminari and Sero playing pranks, Bakugou hitting Kaminari, mentions of KiriBaku, Bakugou being your hype man, gay panic Description: The truth was that you both had crushes on each other, but you were both too afraid to tell the other. With the help of some strategically placed mistletoe, Sero Hanta, and Denki Kaminari, you may no longer be spending the holidays alone. Word Count: 2.2k

“Oh come on Bakugou, don’t be such a little bitch. The party will be fun.” You said nudging your hotheaded best friend at the lunch table. Kaminari’s golden eyes widened as everyone around the table seemed to grow quiet, waiting for Bakugou to blow up at you for calling him a bitch.

“Shut the fuck up, shitty girl.” He responded, his voice staying even as he chewed his food. The electric blonde blinked, wondering why you got away with calling him a bitch but he couldn’t get away with saying that Bakugou’s hair was the same as Kirishima’s so if Kiri’s hair was shitty then so was his.

“Yeah! Please Bakugou, the party will be fun!” Mina chimed in, laughing along with you as Bakugou grew annoyed, rolling his crimson orbs before letting out a breath.

“Tch whatever.” Bakugou remarked, everyone’s smiles widened knowing that that meant he would come.

“Yay!” You happily cheered, patting Bakugou’s hair before you got up to throw your trash away. Once again, everyone was surprised that Bakugou had let you get away with that. Even Todoroki had seen the exchange, automatically thinking that you and Bakugou were in a secret relationship.

That was definitely not true however, the both of you liking someone else, though neither one of you corrected anyone when they shared the same thoughts as Todoroki because that meant something that neither of you were ready to do yet.

Bakugou grew annoyed at the silence at the table, getting up with his own trash and walking over to the trash can after you. His eyes shifted over to his right, seeing the brown haired girl with big eyes secretly watching you walk by, though not stopping her conversation with Midoriya.

“Oi Shitty Girl.” Bakugou said, catching you off guard and making you drop the spoon that was in your hand on the floor. You picked up the spoon, calming down before you looked over at the blonde.

“Did you have to scare me like that Blasty?” You mumbled, putting your spoon in the wash pile. Bakugou simply smirked at you before his eyes shined and you knew he was about to tease you for something.

“Round Face was staring at your ass.” Bakugou told you after making sure that no one was within earshot. Sure he was an asshole, but he wouldn’t out you. You were caught off guard by how nonchalantly he had just said it, choking on the water you had just drank.

Bakugou rolled his eyes at your antics, harshly patting your back as he grumbled about how annoying and stupid you were under his breath. “She what?” You questioned, your voice just above a whisper from having choked. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I fucking lie to you about that (y/n)? This is why you are a fucking shitty girl.”

“Fuck you too Katsuki.” You stated, but the growing smile on your face gave away your true emotions. “Did it look good?”

“What?” He looked at you questioningly.

“Did my ass look good?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows waiting for his response.

“I don’t fucking know.”

“Ok, Well then look now!” He looked at you as if you had three heads. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “Come on Katsuki! It’s important please? I’d tell you if your ass looked good.” You countered.

“I already know my ass is the best.” He shot you a pride filled look as you scoffed. “Fine...it looks nice...I guess.” He added, running a hand through his hair.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? it looks nice I guess. Are you serious?” You scoffed as he did the bare minimum.

“What the fuck did you want me to say?!” He whisper yelled at you as his face scrunched up.

“I don’t know?! That it’s a great ass, that it’s godly, that my skirt looks fucking bomb?!” You whisper yelled back.

“Your fucking ass is godly...is that good enough?” He replied monotonously after your little rant.

“Could you try to sound more enthusiastic next time?” You rolled your (your eye color) eyes as you both decided to walk towards the classroom, needing to have a private conversation away from your friends.

“I’m sorry that I don’t find your ass appealing.” He shot back snottily as you rolled your eyes again with a laugh.

“That’s because the only ass you like is Kirishima’s.” You sang as he quickly slapped a hand over your mouth, shooting you a death glare.

“Could you say that any fucking louder?!” He asked, his eye twitching slightly as he looked around frantically, relaxing when he saw the hallway was clear.

“Was I wrong?” You asked after licking his hand.

“I mean...” Bakugou went silent, his cheeks flushing, “It’s a godly ass.”

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up!” You laughed, hitting him over the head as you walked the halls. “Back to business! You need to help me find a way to tell Ochako that I like her, and I’ll help you with Kiri.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

“Really? May I remind you that you aren’t necessarily the best when it comes to feelings.”

“Fine.” He finally gave in as you flashed a smile at him again and he scoffed, this time hitting your head. “What’s the plan so far?”

The two of you created a plan that would take place later that night at the party, while Denki, Sero, and Mina came up with a plan of their own to help Kirishima; and at the same time, Momo, Tsuyu, Hagakure, Mina and Midoriya came up with a plan to help Ochako.

Mina had suggested Ochako ‘accidentally’ matching ugly Christmas sweaters. “What about you dress up as Santa! (y/n)’s sweater is Santa themed so you can match. She already told me about her sweater.”

“Ok.” Ochako agreed, thankful for her friends. She really wanted to confess her feelings for you, but she just didn’t know how.

“Ok! Let’s go shopping then!” Mina said happily, clapping her hands together with a large smile.

“I heard shopping?” Momo questioned a smile growing on her own face as Ochako and the girls nodded.

“Wait, Momo why can’t you just make it?”

“Because that’s cheating the system. I take pride in supporting the country’s economy, besides it would devalue the currency.” Momo replied as everyone looked at her blankly.

“That’s very commendable of you Yaoyoruzu!” Iida called out from where he had been walking in the hall as Momo smiled at him as everyone else laughed.

School had ended early that day as the students went to the dorm, setting up for the party they had been planning for for weeks. Denki and Sero were in charge of hanging decorations with Kirishima. Aoyama also helped with decorations, though he mainly just hung glittery paper cutouts around the room, also throwing glitter on the fake tree in the corner of the room.

Sato, Shoji, and Tokoyami were on baking duty while Todoroki, Bakugou, and Midoriya made food, and for the first time Bakugou didn’t tell Midoriya to die, though the night was still young.

Mineta had been kicked out from setting up, sent to his room by Iida, after he had tried to hang up scandalously clad women around the room.

Jirou was on her computer adding to her Spotify playlist for the party. Ojiro and Hagakure were adding more decorations to the tree, Ojiro using his tail to get the star on the top.

Mina was throwing fake snow on the ground, already having promised Aizawa that she would vacuum it up afterwards. Kouda had been trying to catch the rabbit that Denki had accidentally let out into the dorm common area, and Ochako was in her dorm room trying to figure out if she should wear makeup.

You were busy goofing off with Sero, Denki, and Kirishima, shooting Bakugou a discreet look every so often, usually wiggling your eyebrows and making lewd hand expressions while gesturing to Kirishima. The ash blonde would respond by shoot death glares at you or holding up the knife he was using.

The set up was done for the most part, everyone heading off to get changed into attire that was more fit for a Christmas party. Though Kaminari and Sero hung back, hanging up two bundles of mistletoe at two different locations in the room, already trying to find a way to get Kirishima and Bakugou under one, before decided they too should change into their own Christmas sweaters.

You had decided to wear black jeans and a navy sweater with red and white trim and a large picture of Santa on the front with the words Ask Your Mom If I’m Real.

Everyone appeared some time later in the common room in different ugly Christmas sweaters, though Denki’s made you laugh as soon as you saw it.

Denki had chosen a black sweater with green, red, and white trim. On the front was a large picture of Jesus holding a keg and a red solo cup with the words, Party Savior on it.

Aoyama’s sweater was very Aoyama. He had chosen a black sweater with glittery sparkles throughout the fabric. A large picture of Santa riding a sparkling unicorn floating on a rainbow was on the front.

Bakugou’s was very Bakugou with a picture of two snowmen battling it out to the death, one stabbing the other with a red and black candy cane. Kirishima’s had a picture of two snowmen hugging and drinking hot chocolate, so they had unknowingly matched.

Your eyes grew wide when they landed on your crush’s outfit. She had dressed up as Santa Claus, though instead of the usual red suit it was a cute red dress with white fluffy trim all around it.

The Bakusquad laughed loudly seeing that your sweater matched with Ochako’s outfit, Bakugou savoring the embarrassed expression on your face, his arm leaning against Kirishima’s shoulder without a thought. You wiggled your eyebrows at him as his face quickly flushed as he pulled his arm to his sides, Kirishima smiling widely at Bakugou.

Your own eyes grew wide as Kirishima took a deep breath before quickly placing his hand into Bakugou’s squeezing it softly as Bakugou flushed and tightened the grip. He shot you a smug look mouthing the words, your turn.

You flipped him off before going to walk into the kitchen to grab a cookie that Bakugou had baked. On your way out of the kitchen Ochako had accidentally bumped into you, Bakugou loudly telling you both to stop.

“What?” You both questioned, following his gaze as he smugly smirked pointing up at the mistletoe hanging over the doorway. Your face immediately grew hot as you looked at the girl dressed up as Santa beside you.

“Do yo-”

“We don’t have to-” You both said at the same time, laughing awkwardly as you stepped closer towards her.

“Do you...do you mind if I-” She struggled to get out, her cheeks flushing an even darker red as her brown eyes searched your face for any sign that you weren’t interested in kissing her.

“You can.” You replied back softly.

“Can you two just fucking kiss already!” Bakugou called out as you quickly turned your head and flashed him your meanest glare.

“Will you shut the fuck up and le-” You started to say but Ochako grabbed your sweater and pulled you closer, your eyes going wide when you felt her soft lips on yours. You closed your eyes after a moment, kissing back before pulling back and biting your lip. She tasted like hot chocolate. A wide smile was on her face as she looked at your shyly.

Your friends were cheering for you in the background, but you didn’t really pay them any attention. “Can I...kiss you again?” You asked softly as she nodded and you kissed her again before the both of you pulled apart and took a seat together with your friends.

“Merry Christmas, (y/n).” She told you, putting her head on your shoulder as you smiled widely, your face growing hot again before you looked down at her.

“It is this year.” You replied back as you both laughed lightly, tuning back into the conversation to hear Kaminari and Sero confessing something.

“Well I mean, it hadn’t been intended for them, but that was cute as fuck. You might as well just call me the Love Expert.” Denki said. “It was originally for you two.” Denki pointed towards Bakugou and Kirishima who were currently sharing a blanket.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed before he handed his hot chocolate to Kirishima, jumping up and smacking Denki and Sero in the head. “You two are fucking stupid as hell!” Bakugou said before sitting back down. “You didn’t think I could handle it on my own? It was Ochako and (y/n) that needed more help!”

“Bakugou, you know-”

“Shut up Shitty Girl.” He narrowed his eyes at you warningly as you rolled your eyes deciding to let him live in denial for the time being as you enjoyed cuddling up to Ochako, excited to finally spend the holidays with someone other than yourself and shitty holiday movies.

tags: I’m thinking of doing a tag list maybe...message me if you’re interested! <3

#the colosseum: 12 days of christmas #christmas special #ochako x reader #katsukisblackteddy #kiribaku #mistletoe #underneath the mistletoe #mha x reader #christmas party #coming out #lgbtqia reader #if i see anything homophobic in the comments i'll beat your ass xoxo #bnha x reader

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vintagedaydreams · 4 years ago

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True Love Never Runs Smoothly Part Six (Carlisle)

Part Six for the Carlisle version!

Yes, I know that I usually update Marcus’ story first, but Carlisle’s just came so much easier this time around. So! Treat for those who are following this story arc!

This chapter was not beta’d, nor was it proof read. #Wedielikemenhere

Without further ado – or delay – the Carlisle update.

@kettnerjanea @jelly-fishy-babie @the-graceful-ace @amwolowicz @batsdothings @waxingmoonstone @littlebabybatthings @mauvette268 @sagittarius-flowerchild @katsav17 @batsuperflashmartianwonderman @imyourapocalypse @bethanymccauley @bepo-is-sorry @raindancer2004 @ashiemochi @artaxerxesthegreat @bloodsweatandsnapple

You were not in a good place. Okay, physically, you were in a beautiful room in an ancient castle in Italy, but mentally and emotionally? You were just this side of traumatized.

Realistically, you knew that vampires drank from humans. And realistically, you knew that not all vampires enjoyed your company, (the last few weeks in Forks had been testament enough to that), but to have a vampire attack you and try to drain you while in said beautiful and ancient castle in Italy?

Not cool.

Very scary.

All you wanted to do was go home. Go home and seriously forget that anything remotely supernatural existed. Your life would be so much easier. So much…quieter.

That’s what you wanted. Quieter. Easier.

And that’s why you were leaving. Today. Screw any diplomatic anything. You were out.

You were changing back into the clothes you wore here, since you didn’t want to take anything that wasn’t yours and never packed anything for this sudden trip, when a knock resounded through the room.

You froze, not sure if you wanted to scream or cry.

Couldn’t they just leave you alone?

“Come in,” you finally sighed, tugging your shirt on and plopping down on the bed.

The door opened and Aro glided in. Literally glided in. How the man wasn’t gay was still a mystery to you. He was the most feminine vampire you’d met so far – including Rosalie.

“Cara mia!” came the delighted exclamation, as if he hadn’t seen you in years. “How are you doing?”

You crossed your arms, more as a comfort gesture than any hostility.

“Fine, all things considering,” you said after a moment.

Aro’s happy smile faded and he nodded, gesturing to the bed next to you for permission to sit.

As much as you would have liked to decline, it was his castle after all. So you grudgingly nodded.

“It is the ‘all things considering’ that I’d like to talk to you about,” the flamboyant monarch said after he had seated himself with more pomp and circumstance than you were sure was necessary. You were just a human after all.

When you didn’t say anything further – honestly, you were a little scared about what he was going to say next – he continued on.

“My brothers and I have been talking and we do not feel that an Innocent such as yourself should be made to suffer from the side effects of a Neglected Bond.”

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“And….what does that mean?” you whispered after a few minutes of Aro just sitting there, staring at you.

“It means that we have come up with two solutions to your…predicament. You are free to choose whichever solution you desire, though I am sure that with your spirit and your independence, you are not going to like either one. However, in a situation like this, with these players and these circumstances, these were the only two solutions that my brothers and I could come to any sort of agreement on.”

You waited with baited breath and Aro seemed to gather his thoughts.

Which you knew was bullshit. The man was a three thousand year old vampire – he didn’t need to stop and gather shit. He knew exactly what he wanted to say and how he was going to say it.

Dramatic asshole.

“What are the choices?” you finally ground out, tired of waiting and breaking the silence first.

“First,” Aro started, all business and any earlier levity gone, “you must promise to chose and abide by one of these choices. It is not only out of duty as Rulers, but also out of concern, that we have set these decisions. We are giving you freedom to choose, which is something that very few beings get. You have the ability to choose whichever path you feel is better for you, but you will have to obey the stipulations that come with each choice to the letter. Any variance that we are alerted to, and we will choose your fate. Do you understand?”

You gulped, not used to being on the receiving end of this kind of attention from such a powerful being.

“Y-yes,” you swallowed, heart kicking up a few notches as your imagination started to run wild. Everything from being turned by the end of the day, to dying as a human, filled your mind.

“Now, cara mia,” Aro soothed, voice honey sweet and more affectionate now, “know that we have your best interests in mind. Neither choice was meant to hurt or inconvenience you, but rather to help you. A Neglected Bond is not a pleasant thing to go through. And while you should – hopefully – feel less of the symptoms since you are human, there will be some side effects all the same and those may affect you more drastically since you are human.”

You gave a shaky nod, eyes wide and heart hammering.

“The first choice,” Aro started, manner again businesslike, “is to stay here in Volterra. My brothers and I have been around for collectively, around nine thousand years, give or take a few centuries. We have gathered a lot of information and ‘tricks of the trade’ so to speak, and have a few ways around some of the more nasty effects of the Bond. We also have members of our Guard that can help as well, making us a rather indispensable resource for those Neglected.”

You weren’t sure what your face was doing, but it must have been telling enough, for Aro gave a small chuckle that was devoid of humor.

“I didn’t think that would be the route you wanted to take.”

You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks.

“It’s not that I’m not grateful,” you started hastily, not wanting to offend the vampire that had been ridiculously good to you since you came here. You just didn’t want to stay here any longer! Nothing with them, but this place…it just reminded you too much of all this Bond catastrophe.

At least at home, you could try and pretend your life was normal. Much easier to go back to what you were doing before, than try to carve some normalcy out of an ancient vampire castle.

“Rest assured, Young One,” Aro said with a friendly pat to your hand, “I am not offended. I understand your reasoning. Like I said, I did not think that you would want to stay here. However, I am almost certain you will not find the decision so easy to make once you hear of the second option.

Your other choice is to return home, but to have daily contact with the Cullens – Carlisle more frequent that the rest.”

Now you knew what your face was doing – it had to match the rage and betrayal that was rushing hot and heavy under your skin.

“Of all the dirty, underhanded tricks!” you snarled. “You know how they have treated me, how he has treated me and now one of your stipulations is that I am in constant contact with them?! How is that not going to harm me?! How is that having my best interests at heart?!”

A loud, deep growl sounded out from the vampire in front of you and all of your rage fled in the face of pitch black eyes and bared fangs.

“It is because we have your best interests at heart that we are making you choose between these two paths, Y/N,” Aro growled loudly, sounding more predatory and…monstrous, that you had ever heard any vampire sound. Even the one that had attacked you in the corridor.

It looked as if his control was hanging by a thread and you felt a fission of fear run through you.

“It does not please me to think of you back in Forks, with the coven that is responsible for your current condition. However, Marcus seems to think that you would do well, flourish even, back at home where you have some comfort and confidence.”

The way his voice snapped towards the end made you think that if it were up to Aro, you wouldn’t have a choice and you would be staying in Volterra. Permanently.

Which almost sounded like a better idea.

“You will need to decide soon, cara mia,” Aro’s voice broke through your thoughts, once again sounding soothing and affectionate.

You looked up and were met with ruby red eyes.

“The Cullen Coven is heading back to Forks later tonight – after dark. If you are wanting to return to Forks, it must be with them. Otherwise, if you are staying here, we can make sure you have ample time to say your goodbyes to Bella and young Edward.”

You worried your lip between your teeth – Aro was right. The choice was not quite so easy once you were aware of both choices!

And they really weren’t giving you a lot of time to make a decision either. No rush. You just had a few hours to decide your future and how exactly you wanted to negate some of the nastier affects of the Bond.

You frowned.

“Aro? You’ve explained to me how staying here in Volterra would help with the Bond’s affects, but how would me going with the Cullens and seeing Carlisle almost every day help if he’s the reason behind the Bond being affected like this?”

“Even though my dear friend is the cause of this, his very presence will help stabilize the Bond. While the Bond can read intent, it takes awhile and for the most part, at least at the beginning, close proximity to your Intended can and will relieve the symptoms. Simply being around someone from Carlisle’s venom every day and the vampire himself at least every couple, should satisfy the Bond for now.”

“For now?” you echoed warily. “Then what happens?”

Aro hummed, a small smile lighting his face. “That is for another time.”

At your indignant protest, he held up a cold, marble hand and said firmly, “There is a very strong chance that Later will never happen in this situation. Rest assured, we will be monitoring everything and should it get to the point where we need to step in for your safety and health, we will. But it’s best to not even get into that until the time comes. Unnecessary worry solves nothing, Y/N.”

You gave a slight glare, but let it go. If the man didn’t want to tell you, there was nothing you could say or do that would make him tell you. Though, you didn’t think that knowing all the facts about something that was affecting you negatively right now was ‘unnecessary worrying’. More like ‘smart battle tactics’.

Damn dramatic vampires, always having to keep you in the dark about something.

Would it kill them to actually be forthcoming about something before it became an issue?

Probably.

But no matter. Right now, you had a decision to make. Stay here in Volterra, never see your home or work or friends again and have some vampire voodoo make it to where your Neglected Bond was manageable or go back home to your house, work and friends but have to stay in constant contact with the group of vampires that pretty much made your life a living Hell for the last few weeks.

Both of these choices sucked.

“Why can’t I just go live in England by myself for the rest of my life?” you muttered on a sigh, running a hand through your hair.

It would make your life so much easier – consequences of a Neglected Bond be damned.

“Caius will be pleased to know that you are not a fan of either my choice or Marcus’,” Aro commented lightly from beside you and you gave him a Look.

“Good for Caius,” you deadpanned, feeling a well of frustration bubbled up inside of you. Vampires did remember that human brains couldn’t compute and think things as quickly as vampire brains could, right? Like, humans were much slower at everything. Including decision making. (The fact that you were naturally a procrastinator didn’t matter right now.)

Aro suddenly stood, making you startle and look up at him.

“I will leave you to it, Y/N. A guard is stationed outside your door – simply notify them when you have come to a decision and they were notify the proper people.”

“Thanks,” you said automatically, mind already racing through the pros and cons of each decision, feeling the deadline moving steadily closer.

Damn vampires!

-----

So, never again were you going to make life altering decisions about your mental and emotional health on so limited a time frame.

Your bottom lip was bleeding from you chewing through it and you were pretty sure your hair could win a country music award with how much it was all over the place from you pulling at it and running your hands through it.

But you did it.

You had come to a conclusion.

It wasn’t easy and you hoped to never have such a sucky choice again in your life, but you did it.

You would be going home to Forks with Edward, Bella and the Betrayers Six.

As much as being in Volterra would probably be better for you in the long run, right now you needed familiarity. Stability. And your own bed.

The rest would sort itself out.

Besides, you were supposed to be in contact with someone who shared Carlisle’s venom every day. Edward would fill that void just fine.

And then every couple of days, Carlisle could…stand on the back porch or something.

As long as he was close, that should satisfy the Bond. Probably. Maybe. Perhaps. You really needed some more information on this.

Especially if it was going to dictate your foreseeable future.

With a gusty sigh, you straightened your spine and headed to the door to alert your guard you were going home.

Hopefully, you could find Edward and Bella before having to see the rest of the Cullens.

After alerting your guard as to your plans, you were instructed to stay in your room until someone could come fetch you.

Fetch you? Out of everyone in this castle, you were not the one acting like a child!

But you agreed and took a seat on your bed again.

This was actually helping you to realize you made the right decision. If you stayed in Volterra, you wouldn’t be able to stay in your room 24/7. You’d go insane!

A knock sounded at the door and then Edward entered.

“Eddie!” you exclaimed in legitimate relief and joy, hopping off the bed and running to hug him.

A normal person!

Well, as close to normal as any vampire could get at this point.

A low chuckle echoed through the room and you couldn’t help your entire body relax. It just felt so good to be with someone familiar!

“Make sure you don’t touch Aro on the way to the plane,” Edward said with a huff of laughter. “You’ll end up hurting his feelings at your anxiousness to get away.”

You pulled back enough to see Edward’s face, your mouth opening to deny that you were that anxious to get away – Aro had been so good to you, the last thing you wanted to do was hurt his feelings! – but Edward gave you a crooked grin, beating you to it with a soft, “Teasing, Y/N. Aro knows you are just happy to get home.”

You scrunched your nose up at Edward; he would tease you right now.

But it worked and you felt yourself feeling more like yourself than you had in weeks.

You could do this. It was going to suck, especially at first, but you could it.

“Everyone is ready and waiting by the jet,” Edward said quietly as he ushered you out the door and down the hallway. “I thought we would arrive last and then we could leave as soon as we get there without having to wait for anybody.”

You nodded in thanks, squeezing his arm in gratitude.

“Bella is already there?”

“Yes,” Edward confirmed, “she’s holding her own against them. I think she was honestly excited for me to leave and get you – she’s been dying to have some ‘quality time’ with everyone. I guess the last time she yelled at them wasn’t enough for her.”

You gave a snort of amusement, so thankful to have the support of both Edward and Bella. They really were going to be your rocks through this.

It didn’t take long for you and Edward to come up on the jet. The rest of the Cullen Coven were standing fairly close together, though you noticed Jasper and Alice a bit farther away from the group.

Bella stood farthest away, facing the golden eyed vampires with her hands on her hips.

You seriously loved that woman.

“She’s taken,” Edward murmured to you with a grin and you rolled your eyes and shot back, “You’re a lucky bastard.”

Edward’s chuckle was drowned out by the starting of the jet’s engines. The Cullens slowly began migrating to the ramp leading up to the jet, giving Bella a wide berth to your great amusement.

To your surprise, though you weren’t sure why it surprised you, Aro was there to see you off.

“My brothers would have loved to be here as well,” he assured you and you fought not to roll your eyes. You could just bet. “However, they are needed for a sudden, unexpected trial. I did want to see you off before I go and join them; do be careful and remember what we discussed, alright?”

You gave a small smile, not really enjoying the reminder of the whole ‘listen to our rules or we’ll decide your fate’ thing, but…it was nice to know that you had a group of people watching out for you.

You untangled your arm from Edward’s and walked the few steps forward to give Aro a hug. He really had been amazing to you since your arrival days ago.

“Thank you,” you murmured into his chest as his arms came up to wrap around you as well.

“Of course, Cara Mia,” he returned, giving you a last gentle squeeze before you took a step back. “You are an honorary Vampire and one of us now,” he continued with a smirk. “Please, do come visit us soon – no matter the outcome of your Bond.”

You gave a soft laugh, seriously touched that he seemed to give two figs about you.

“You can count on it, Aro. Thank you.”

The King bowed his head and then called to the small number of guards in the area before making his leave.

Edward came back up to you and gently steered you towards the plane where the ‘family’ of vampires who had made your life Hell for weeks, hated your guts for something completely out of your control, and then suddenly tried to get in your good graces after a scolding from vampire royalty, were waiting.

What an amazingly awkward plane ride this was going to be.

#Carlisle x Reader #Reader Insert #Volturi Rock #Edward is not a douche #Twilight Imagine #Twilight Reader Insert #Carlisle Imagine

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yahboobeh · 4 years ago

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Metanoia Chapter 4

@weaponsmistress and I are back with another chapter!

Neji closed his father’s journal. It was hand bound with thick sheets of yellowed paper and filled with mundane details of Hizashi’s life.

He loved it.

Neji had read it a dozen times already. The first time was the hardest. It had been nearly impossible to read anything through the blur of unexpected tears.

It was so mundane and routine and normal. Hyuuga Hizashi’s diary was nothing more than a basic account of the day’s events. There was nothing scandalous, not even anything that hinted at tantalizing. No drama, no betrayal, no revenge. Just a hard-working man who’d entered into an arranged marriage that produced one child.

That wasn’t to say it was devoid of emotion.

Neji read about the frustrations and uncertainties of being matched, of a duty that slowly grew into affection, and of the happiness that came with childbirth that could only be cut down by the death of the mother.

Neji read about his own childhood. His first words (dad and bird) and first steps. He read about his quiet and mild manors that sometimes gave way to mischief.

He got so caught up in every detail of his father’s life that it wasn’t until his fifth pass that Neji realized that there were no words of animosity, no anger towards Hiashi… nothing.

As a child, Neji remembered his father’s quiet seething towards his own brother. He remembered the strip of cloth he kept over his forehead that he never spoke about.

He read it again and again, reading between the lines, trying to find the answers he so desperately wanted. Each time he came up empty. And even though Neji knew this journal did not have what he was looking for, he still reread it over and over and found comfort in his Father’s short, precise notes.

A knock ripped Neji from the journal. His heart raced and he snapped the book shut, tucking it in between the folds of his tunic.

“Come in,” he called, standing up from his desk.

Hoheto opened the door and offered a curt bow. Behind him stood the tall and imposing figure of his uncle. Neji bowed and greeted them both.

The two entered the room. Hoheto closed the door. Hiashi looked around the room, wandering around slowly as if seeing it for the first time.

“Nephew, I continue to be impressed by your attention to your new duty.”

“Thank you, uncle.”

Neji watched Hiashi pull a book off his bookcase and studied the spine before sliding it back in place.

“How do you like it?”

Neji tried to calm himself as Hiashi took out another book. He felt the journal pressed against his chest, his heart thumping against the cover.

“I admit, uncle, I did not care for it at first, but I have found interest in learning more about the territory.”

“And it’s people?”

Neji hesitated briefly. Hiashi had a keen eye and could easily spot lies.

“And it’s people,” he agreed.

Hiashi was at his desk now, peeking under a notebook and leafing through a stack of loose papers.

“And you get along well with them?”

“As well as someone in my position can, I expect.”

Hiashi stopped and met Neji’s gaze.

“Good. Hoheto and I have been discussing your duties and we believe you are ready to stretch your wings a bit farther.”

Neji raised a brow, glancing over to his instructor, who gave an encouraging nod.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that in addition to checking in on the villagers that taxes are also collected.”

Neji hadn’t noticed, actually, Hoheto was apparently very discrete about this part of their monthly inspections. Nevertheless, he nodded.

“Taxes are increasing. This tends to upset the villagers, as such, we need to increase our presence in town. Therefore, Hoheto and I have decided you are capable of conducting your rounds without assistance so that we may be seen more.”

“You will take over our current roster,” added Hoheto, “while I will take up additional rounds. Added visits will be necessary to quell any unexpected activities before they begin.”

“You will conduct your rounds once a week,” said Hiashi, “if your families are compliant and amiable you can reduce to twice a month and eventually back to once a month as you do now. Should you have any difficulties collecting taxes let the treasury know when you make your deposits to ensure their collection.”

Neji nodded, understanding.

“Oh!” Hoheto exclaimed, as if he’d just remembered something. He flipped open his notebook and rifled through loose papers before thrusting one out to Neji. “Here is an updated roster with the new tax information.”

“Thank you.” Neji accepted the sheet and opened a drawer on his desk. He did not miss Hiashi’s quick glance into the drawer as Neji added the ledger.

“Is there something else I might assist you with, uncle?”

“No,” Hiashi said, eyes lingering on the drawer. “Check in on your cousins later. Hinata has requested your presence for tea.”

Neji nodded.

“Of course.”

—

Tenten set the tray down on the table a little harder than she had anticipated.

She’d heard whisperings of an increase in inspections but she took no notice of it until Neji showed up on her doorstep that afternoon.

She looked up from the tray of tea and sweets and crossed her arms.

“Weren’t you just here?”

Neji looked up from his notebook.

“I find your presence so hospitable that I could not stay away,” he replied, dryly.

Tenten glared at him before reluctantly pouring him a cup of tea.

“Where is your father?”

“In town with Lee.”

Tenten poured herself a cup before delivering his across the room.

She sat in a nearby chair and set her cup down on the side table.

“Will they be back soon?”

“I hope so. I’ll likely go insane if I have to sit around with you all day.”

Neji frowned and took a drink from his cup.

“Perhaps you should be better prepared next time.”

“How could we be? You sat in that very chair last week.”

“I hear the way your neighbors gossip in the market. My increased presence cannot come as a surprise.”

Tenten seethed. Just a month ago she had come to the sickening realization that she enjoyed his company. Perhaps she had mistaken Neji’s pleasantness for Hoheto’s.

“You talk about gossip, but your partner would never have done something this scandalous.”

Neji’s pretty lavender eyes flashed up at her. She’d caught him off guard.

“And what, may I ask, is so scandalous about conducting my rounds?”

Tenten crossed her legs, taking time to smooth the wrinkles out of her skirt, reminding him exactly who and what she was.

“Calling on a young woman while she is home alone? With no supervision?”

She watched his face redden briefly with mortification before he reigned in his emotional response. When he looked at her again, his composure was cool and distanced.

“Young woman?” he scoffed, “How old are you again?”

Tenten straightened up a little, feeling her temper warm.

“Older than you if I recall.”

“I wouldn’t consider a few months substantial enough to boast about your seniority. Fifteen is fifteen.”

“Do you really need my father here to ensure we’re being loyal to your family?”

“There are some matters that can only be discussed with him.”

“Then come back when he is here.”

“Won’t that look even more scandalous? If I were to make a short visit while only his daughter was home, only to return later for the official inspection?”

Tenten felt her face warm. She took a long drink of her tea, hiding his face behind her cup until she regained her composure.

“I suspect my reputation matters less than yours.”

“Perhaps, but you and your father have much more to lose for my questionable judgment.”

“You’re an ass.”

“So I’ve been told, by you, on more than one occasion.”

Neji smirked. Her insult rolled off him like water on a duck’s back. Tenten hated it.

“Why are visits being increased?”

Neji prefaced his response with a slow drink of tea.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you.”

“I’m going to find out next time I go to town anyway. Why not just tell me now?”

“Because I said so.”

Tenten rolled her eyes.

“What a well-thought-out and eloquent comeback.”

Neji glared.

“I haven’t forgotten that I can write you up, you know.”

Tenten felt a small jolt of adrenaline. She couldn’t say why, but she liked riling him up.

“Maybe, but you won’t.”

If Neji had anything else to say, he was unable to. Lee ran into the room, bursting with energy.

“In here! Neji is here! I told you I heard Tenten talking to someone!”

They both stood up as Gai entered the room. His expression was stern with critical eyes searching both of their faces for any hint of inappropriate behavior.

His face softened and he smiled, apparently finding nothing concerning.

“Neji! What brings you here?”

Neji gave a brief bow.

“Forgive me for my untimely visit.”

Tenten bit her lip, holding back from pointing out that his visits were always untimely.

“You are always welcome in our home!” Gai threw his arms out in a gesture that Lee would have taken as an offer to embrace.

Neji, unsurprisingly, did not leap into Gai’s arms and declare his affection for the Maito family. He remained still, standing tall with his shoulders back and jaw clenched.

“I appreciate your hospitality, however, I’m afraid this is not a social call.”

Gai frowned a little.

“I had heard the rumors, but to be honest, I’d hoped they were untrue.”

Neji shrugged with a nonchalance that irritated Tenten. It was as if barging into their lives was little more than a mild inconvenience to him.

“Shall we speak in private?” Neji asked Gai.

“Wait,” Tenten interrupted. “Why the sudden secrecy?”

“Tenten, Lee,” said Gai, ignoring her question, “leave us.”

Tenten grumbled and set down her cup on the table. Together with Lee they headed out of the sitting room.

“And Tenten,” she heard Gai call out behind her, “no eavesdropping.”

AO3 | FFN | Instagram

#nejiten #naruto fanfiction #tenten #neji hyuga #booh writes

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infinite-xerath · 4 years ago

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Runeterra Retcons 4: Varus

Unlike the other Champions I’ve covered, Varus’s history is surprisingly straightforward. He was released all the way back in 2012 and, as far as I can recall, was the first Champion to ever receive any sort of major promotional material in the form of a short comic. He’s very straight-forward in both concept and design: a man willing to sell his soul, his very humanity, for revenge on the people who took everything from him. Given that this was before Kalista was added to the game, Varus had little choice but take matters into his own hands by bargaining with a vaguely-defined Eldritch being who would give him the power he needed in exchanged for taking over his body.

Original lore here

Varus’s lore is a very traditional revenge story, albeit with a slightly interesting twist in that he is the maker of his own tragedy. Varus opted to place his duty over the well-being of family and, in the process, was unable to even TRY to protect them while his village was being reduced to burning rubble. Out of grief and rage Varus turned to bargaining with the very entity he fought so hard to keep confined now that he no longer has anything to lose.

I and many others liked Varus’s story, and to be honest, Riot could have honestly just kept him more-or-less the same when they updated him post-retcon. Just remove the mention of the League and maybe better-define what the black flames were, and you’d be good. In fact, Riot technically did the former, as his second lore is basically identical save for removing any mention of the League of Legends.

Now, it’s at this point that things start to get a little more complicated. Now, if you want a more comprehensive breakdown of the Darkin and their history, I advise you go check out the part centered around Aatrox and his long and convoluted history, but tldr: the Darkin were a race of beings of whom only five remained, and it was later confirmed with Rhaast that they’re specifically a race of living weapons with the ability to possess whoever wields them. Now, while Varus was specifically possessed by an ominous black flame called Pallas, many drew parallels between him and the other Darkin characters, especially since Varus’s also seemed to be alive.

Given that the flames were never really elaborated on or given a proper origin story, Riot decided that it would probably be best to just go ahead and retcon Varus into being a Darkin as well, and nobody had any real qualms with this. It was a common fan theory for years, so why not? Just change the story a bit so that the flames were actually just a Darkin bow all along and boom, you’ve pretty-much done all you needed to properly fit Varus into the new post-reboot Runeterra.

Well, apparently Riot did not feel this way, as it was with Varus’s 2017 retcon that they decided to finally give fans a proper origin story for who and what the Darkin were. That origin story goes a little something like this.

Alright, so Varus is now an alien. They decided to make Varus himself the Darkin, rather than the man who would later claim the bow. OK, that’s fine. I mean, the whole alien thing is kinda weird and still very vaguely explained, but again, my full thoughts on the history of the Darkin as a whole can be seen in the Aatrox analysis. What I think is most important here is that Riot made an attempt, however sloppy, to explain who and what the Darkin were and finally give context to why Aatrox and Rhaast are such big threats to the world.

Now, it’s the next change that got a lot of controversy around it. Rather than just change the name of the Ionian guard who let Varus possess him, the guy who lost his family to the Noxian invasion, Riot decided to replace him with a pair of entirely new characters: Valmar and Kai, a duo of gay Ionian hunters.

Now, I’m just gonna get this out of the way: I’ve got no real qualms about gay relationships in media. Hell, we have a few LGBT Champions in the game already, and even some in the broader expanse of the world. My main gripe comes from the introduction of Valmar and Kai themselves, and how they’re just sort of these… Nothing characters. I mean, in the first lore, we knew who Varus was. We may not have known him well, but we could at least get a general sense of his character: he was proud of his skill, committed to the duty given to him even at the risk of his family, but ultimately succumbed to grief and rage when his decision caused him to lose everything he held dear. Varus was a good man warped by the loss of his home and loved ones, and that made him a fairly compelling character.

Valmar and Kai are… Two gay hunters. That’s it. That’s literally all we know about them from the bio alone. I mean, yes, Riot released a comic to further expand on these characters, but if your answer to the questions raised in your story are “go and read this extra supplementary material for context,” that’s… A problem.

On the topic of supplementary material, Riot also released a music video about Varus. It’s… OK. I personally don’t care much for the song but the visuals alone are really well-done. It’s supposed to detail the conflict between Valmar, Kai and Varus, but most of the context behind it is explained in the comic and short story.

Honestly, Varus’s retcon is kind of baffling. I mean, he didn’t receive a visual rework, his kit remained pretty-much the same as it’s always been, and he doesn’t even have any new voice lines in-game to indicate that he’s three different guys all stuck in one body. In fact, people who play him in-game without reading the lore probably wouldn’t ever be able to guess as much. Riot went to so much effort promoting Varus’s lore update with a music video, a new bio, a new color story, and a three-part comic, but they really haven’t changed anything about him in the game itself. They put more effort into him than they do for most ACTUAL Champion VGU’s. So… Why?

Admittedly, this is where I’m going to delve a bit into conspiracy theory territory, but I genuinely believe this is a case of Riot trying to push League’s first openly queer relationship. Seriously, Valmar and Kai are the first time a character in League has been confirmed gay IN THE LORE ITSELF and not just through a random tweet. Now, the word “pandering” gets thrown around a lot these days, and I don’t really like to use it, but it really does feel like Valmar and Kai were added JUST to have a confirmed gay couple in the lore.

The fact that they’re not even acknowledged IN THE GAME ITSELF really makes the whole thing feel like an attempt to just appeal to the LGBT crowd, though I’ve seen plenty of people in that community react… Less than positively to the portrayal. I mean, two gay guys are literally trying to hold back a corruptive, even influence with the power of love. I don’t wanna delve too much into the political side of things here, but that’s honestly about as cliché and stereotypical as you can get. Fans in general were extremely displeased that the man they knew as Varus, this genuinely tragic figure from the original lore, was replaced by two guys who’s only defining character trait is how much they apparently love each other.

Apparently, these complaints came through loud and clear, as Riot would update Varus one final time after deciding to retcon the whole alien plotline. So, let’s have a look at how his current, canon bio handles him.

Alright, well… Riot heard the complaints, but whether or not they fixed him is another matter. It seems like they tried to give Varus back his original origin story, basically making the archer we new from his first bio Shuriman. The problem is that there’s significantly less context for him now; we don’t know anything about his family, we don’t know why the temple he’s guarding is so important, and the story never even explicitly states that his family died!

I guess it’s implied because the Ascended acknowledged his “sacrifice,” though him being rewarded by becoming a demigod doesn’t quite have the same impact as exchanging his life and soul for a shot at revenge. On top of that, Varus seems pretty quick to give up on the whole “sacred duty” thing, despite the story claiming that being the thing he “he held above all else.” It all feels like a botched effort to mix his original bio with the new Ascended lore that Riot tied in with the Darkin.

Then, of course, there’s Valmar and Kai, who are… Still just gay hunters. They haven’t been expanded on at all. They helped drive the Noxians off from their home, Kai was apparently wounded, and Valmar decides that dipping his lover in an ominous pool of evil to save his life is a bad idea. Seriously, the bio states that they “inadvertently” freed Varus, but there was nothing accidental about it! There was no bargain, they weren’t tricked, it was literally just one guy making a stupid decision that got him fused with his lover and an ancient evil being.

Also, can we address the fact that Varus still wants to avenge the destruction of his race? Who does he want to avenge? The other Ascended? The Ascended who literally warred with each other for centuries? The same Ascended that HE FOUGHT AGAINST during the civil war for control of Shurima? Did Riot just… Forget that he’s not an alien anymore in that brief paragraph? They stated earlier that he was a cruel, merciless killer who just went to slaughter whoever he was told to slaughter, so for some reason I don’t feel like he’d care all that much about his “race” being felled. Oh, and there’s also still the unnamed warrior queen, who I THINK is meant to be a precious Aspect of the Sun? It’s never really stated in the bio itself.

Alright, enough ranting. Varus’s current lore suffers from one major fault: it is trying way too hard to tell several stories all at once. It tells the story of Varus as a human, Varus as an Ascended, Varus as a Darkin, the “story” of Valmar and Kai, and how they got fused with Varus. The writers tried way too hard to cram everything into a single bio and, as a result, nothing is elaborated on. Nothing is really explained, we don’t get to know the characters who are involved in the gestalt entities now known as Varus, and reason for his current existence AS a gestalt entity are just kinda silly, if we’re being honest.

So, how can we fix this? I admit: this was a tough one. There were a lot of different directions I could go when rewriting Varus’s lore, but I decided to take the Kayn approach, where the human host in the focus of the bio. Originally, I did have a whole bio written out for Varus and how he became an Ascendant, but I ultimately realized that I was going to run into the same issue Riot did: trying to cram way too much into a single character overview. So, instead, I chose to focus in more on the story of Valmar and Kai, and how the Darkin Bow was freed after ages of confinement. Without any further ado, please enjoy.

For years, the Darkin Bow has remained confined within the Ionian city of Pallas. The bow’s true nature has long been lost to time, though legends say it holds the spirit of an ancient god from a vast desert land. Others claim that the bow itself is something much older and viler than history itself dares to remember. Whatever the truth may be, the people have Pallas have guarded the bow for generations, choosing only their most skilled warriors from the task. Among them, none seemed better-suited for the task than Kai and Valmar.

Kai and Valmar were inseparable since they were children. Kai, a prodigy marksman, was known for his sense of humor and fierce resolve. Though infamous for his pranks, Kai would never hesitate to step in and defend someone in need, no matter how poorly the odds stood in his favor. By contrast, Valmar had trained in the ways of swordsmanship since he was old enough to grip a blade. Diligent and studious, Valmar was what many considered a model samurai in the making, yet he was also unendingly curious about the world and the many wonders it held.

At a glance, Kai and Valmar seemed near-total opposites, yet the two formed an unbreakable bond from the day they met. Kai would often accompany Valmar to explore the surrounding wilderness, only for Valmar to shelter Kai whenever one of his pranks went awry. As each boy matured, mastering the bow and blade respectively, their bond became something deeper than simple friendship. Valmar was a part of Kai, and Kai a part of Valmar. Neither was complete without the other, and so it came as little surprise that when Valmar was chosen to guard the Temple of the Bow, Kai soon followed.

Together, Valmar and Kai drove off many would-be thieves seeking to claim the cursed weapon’s power as their own. The two fought as one, each arrow from Kai’s bow in perfect sync with every swing of Valmar’s blade. Eventually, they came to be known as the Locust and Mantis, for the whirring of Kai’s arrows and the elegance of Valmar’s blade. It was believed that none could stand up to their combined might… Until the Noxians came.

From their post at the temple, Valmar and Kai watched in horror as the invaders stormed their home, setting fires and killing anyone who dared to stand in their way. For the first time, two warriors found themselves at odds; Kai wished to help defend the people of Pallas, but Valmar insisted on protecting the temple. In the end, neither had much choice in the matter, for the Noxians soon had them cornered on the temple steps.

Valmar and Kai fought for hours, their combined might slowly waning against the invaders’ onslaught. Kai’s strength was the first to give out, yet before death could reach him, Valmar stepped in the way to shield his partner from the blow of a Noxian axe. Kai watched in horror as Valmar fell to the ground, lifeless. Enraged, Kai fired all the arrows he had left before taking up Valmar’s sword, slaying the Noxian forces assaulting the temple. Even still, he knew it would not be long before more came, seeking to claim the forbidden bow.

In that moment, Kai heard a voice calling to him from within the temple. It promised him vengeance and the strength to fight back. Driven by rage and grief, the wounded archer let the voice guide him inside, just as more Noxian invaders began their ascent up the temple’s stairs. It was there, in the darkness, that Kai at last set eyes upon the cursed weapon he and Valmar spent years protecting: a bow thrumming with unearthly power. Kai hesitated for only a moment before grasping the bow, letting its power wash over him.

Kai’s mind was filled with images and thoughts not his own: a vast desert empire, a man made a god, betrayal, war, and finally, imprisonment. These were the memories of Varus, an Ascended being who devoted his life to serving Shurima, only to be abandoned in his time of need. His bitterness and hatred had summoned the Darkin Bow, granting Varus the opportunity to seek revenge on those who had wronged him. In the end, Varus was sealed within the bow, becoming one with it… And now, he would become one with Kai as well.

As Varus’s memories filled Kai’s mind, the Darkin’s power corrupted his body. Varus prepared to usurp Kai’s form entirely, but to his surprise, the Ionian’s drive for vengeance matched his own. Kai was prepared to give anything to avenge Valmar, his fallen half, yet he would do so with his own hands rather than entrust the task to a fallen god.

Even as their minds fought, the archers’ new, fused body moved on pure instinct. One by one, the Noxian forces in Pallas were felled by crimson arrows born of pure malice. Seeing the corpses of his kinsmen and the ruins of his home only fueled Kai’s rage, which in-turn empowered the Darkin in his grasp. Finally, the two archers came to an agreement as the Noxians fled: Varus would lend Kai his strength, in exchange for the Ionian’s body once Kai’s vengeance was complete.

Now on borrowed time, Kai has but one objective: to find and kill everyone he holds responsible for the destruction of his home and the death of his partner. To Varus, however, the destruction of Noxus is but the first step toward a much larger goal: revenge against the gods who betrayed him, and the world that sealed him away…

So, that’s my take on Varus’s lore. Now, the first thing you’ll probably notice is that I only have one of the lovers being possessed. Frankly, I felt that this was probably the best direction to go with; Riot still hasn’t updated Varus in any meaningful way to include Valmar and Kai in any of his voice lines, and something tells me that, being owned by a certain Chinese company, they probably never will. Given the circumstances, I figured it was probably best to give him a backstory more befitting of his in-game voice lines, which still portray Varus as a man on borrowed time who’s giving what little he has left in pursuit of vengeance.

Even so, I decided to try my hand at fleshing out Valmar and Kai. The first thing I did was change them from random hunters to trained soldiers tasked with guarding the temple. This not only harkens back to Varus’s original lore, but it also gives them more of a reason to stand their ground against the Noxian invaders. I also wanted to flesh out their personalities a little more, because I’ll be completely honest: I legitimately couldn’t remember which one was which even after skimming back through the comic. I forgot that Kai was the one who was injured in the original story, not Valmar, but quite frankly it matters so little given how poorly their characters are fleshed out.

Now, as for Varus himself… Well, like I said: I did have a whole bio written out for him that ties into the new Darkin lore I introduced in my Aatrox analysis, but I decided to focus the story more on Valmar and Kai and only have that backstory briefly alluded to. A tad disappointing, I know, but hey, it’s still more than what we learned about Rhaast from Kayn’s bio.

So, that was Varus, the Arrow of Retribution, otherwise known as Riot’s botched attempt at LGBT representation. He’s a far cry from what he started out as, and yet, hilariously, he’s really not on account of them still not updating anything about him in-game. In that respect, the Varus you play as in League isn’t really even the same character(s) presented in the lore. While I still firmly believe that his backstory never needed to be changed so drastically in the first place, I least wanted to present the potential that this direction held, and how badly the opportunity was squandered.

Oh well. At least the music video still looks nice.

#Runeterra Retcons #Varus #League of Legends

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depressedkakashihatake-fics · 4 years ago

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Some Time Alone

Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai

1903 words

Kiss: Lower-Lip sucking kiss

For: @grumpygaybaby and @temarihime (if you want to read some Kakagai today lol)

An escape, at last.

Three days ago Kakashi left Konoha with his husband, and to say he was looking forward to a chance to unwind and relax after being handed the Hokage’s hat all those years ago was an understatement. He couldn’t wait to be as far away from all the responsibilities and expectations.

Unfortunately, Naruto had decided to throw a Kunai in his plans by sending one Mirai Saratobi along with them on body guard duty.

A body guard. The sixth Hokage and one of Konoha’s top Jonin, with a bodyguard.

He’d be insulted if he hadn’t spent the last three days pissed because Mirai refused to give him and Gai any space at all, citing her responsibilities as their guard whenever he tried to get her to go somewhere else for even just an hour.

Not that he blamed her. She was just doing her job.

This was Naruto’s fault and Kakashi was certain it was payback for him sending Genma to watch over the brat’s honeymoon with Hinata. Usually he’d let it slide too, but when it came to Naruto ‘trouble magnet’ Uzumaki, he had to be a bit more cautious. Genma had intercepted three different attempts to interrupt Naruto and Hinata’s honeymoon without them noticing and he should be thankful damn it.

But no, instead he was vengeful and now Kakashi was stuck with a 15 year old who was determined to prove herself and refused to leave Kakashi and Gai’s side no matter how many times he begged her for just a little bit of alone time with his husband.

Drastic times called for drastic measures.

“Are you sure about this?” Mirai looked at the bath house skeptically. “Isn’t there something else you would rather do?”

“No, this is exactly what i want,” it was a perk of being in a relationship with someone who was the same gender as him. He could go into a bath house and not have to be separated from Gai. “it’ll be good for us all Mirai. Bedside’s, if anything happens we’ll be right next door. You just can’t see us.”

The words didn’t seem to make Mirai feel any better about the situation. “Fine,” she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look that reminded him a little bit too much of her mother. “But if anything happens i’ll be there in an instant.

“I have no doubt about that,” he smiled, “but try to relax. That’s the point of this stop after all.”

Finally, some peace and quiet. Even if they weren’t completely alone, at least they would be able to relax a bit better without Mirai breathing down their necks, and maybe she would finally unwind a little.

Stepping out into the bath area, Kakashi couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit excited. It was better than he could have hoped for.

Empty.

The entire bath was empty. Not a soul to be seen.

There was no better outcome he could have asked for. A whole bath for just him and Gai. No one around to judge if he slid in a little too close. No prying eyes if he decided to take off his face towel.

No real need for the face towel at all really.

Seeing Gai coming up to his side, he glanced down towards the man he had decided to marry. The beautiful human he would spend the rest of his life with. If they were really lucky no one would show up at all until they were ready to leave.

He would get Gai all to himself.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “You mind?” He took a step forward and turned to face his husband, one hand reaching out towards the other man.

Debating the unspoken question for a moment, Gai took one look at the bath waiting for him behind Kakashi and slowly nodded his head. With permission given, Kakashi closed the distance between them and bent forward, tucking one arm behind Gai’s back and the other under his legs.

With his hands in place Kakashi lifted his husband out of his chair with surprising ease. Perhaps when Gai had joked with him earlier that week about how he carried him around their home too often these days as a substitute for his old morning training regimes, he hadn’t been too far off.

“A whole bath to ourselves,” Gai chuckled as his arms came down around Kakashi’s neck. ‘What shall we do with all of this space, Rival?”

“Well first we’re going to find you the best spot possible,” Kakashi muttered, turning around in his spot and scanning the area. Picking out a small rock close to the edge of the bath, he started walking. The last thing they needed was for Gai’s cast to get wet. That always ended up being a mess that neither of them wanted to deal with.

“And after that?”

“Once we’re settled in and the water is working its magic on our old fagil bones,” Gai roared with laughter, loud enough that Kakashi was sure Mirai could hear him on the other side of the bath house. “Well then I’ll just have to enjoy the precious little personal time I get with my fantastic husband.”

Stepping down into the water, Kakashi groaned as his body started to relax. This was already the best idea he had all day, and he hadn’t even made it all of the way into the water yet.

“You look happy,” Gai commented, lifting his leg up over the water while Kakashi slowly submerged the lower half of his body in water. “A nice relaxing soak to recharge us for our next challenge. A grand idea you had, Rival!”

Another challenge was not something he was ready to concern himself with. Not when he had already lost the handstand race from their room to the front door of the Inn they were staying at, which surprised absolutely no one.

No, now was the time for cuddles and kisses, not talks about challenges.

Reaching his target, Kakashi positioned himself perfectly so that Gai’s leg was hovering over the rock and proceeded to carefully set his husband down in the water. Thankfully both of them had decided to forgo their towels in the locker room, deciding it would be easier that way. A choice made much easier for Kakashi since he had been able to get top surgery shortly after becoming Hokage.

An accomplishment made much easier to achieve without the threat of impending war or a constant need for him to be ready for missions looming over his head.

“Mmmm, you’re right,” Gai grinned. “The water is perfect. There is no doubt we will be able to do anything we wish after a long soak.”

‘Anything’ seemed like a bit of a stretch, but he was willing to let his husband have it.

Once Gai was settled into his spot with his leg safely propped up out of the water, Kakashi took a step back to admire his work, forcing Gai to release the hold he had on his neck.

“Are you going to join me, Rival?” Tilting his head, Kakashi thought about it for a second before reaching up to carefully remove the towel he had wrapped around the lower portion of his face.

Leaning over Gai’s body, Kakashi set his towel down right behind his head and smiled down at the Taijutsu master. Gai was one of the few people who never reacted when he took his mask, or in this case towel, off to show his face, and it was one of the many things he loved about the man.

“You’re cooking something up in that mind of yours,” Gai teased, reaching up to poke Kakashi in the nose. ‘Stop it. Bath houses are for relaxing.”

“And relaxing is exactly what i’m going to do,” Kakashi assured him even as he leaned in close and brushed his lips against his cheek. “Having fun is part of relaxing is it not, turtle?”

If anyone else had been in the bath with them Gai would have gone bright red at the use of that old nickname. Even after all of these years together it still seemed to embarrass him.

He claimed it was because it was only nicknames Kakashi ever used for anyone, but Kakashi was certain that it had something to do with the fact that Gai still couldn’t believe that out of all of the nicknames he had access to, he chose to hang onto that one. The silly little nickname he had come up with when they were fourteen years old, and had refused to let go of since then.

“A whole bath to ourselves, turtle,” He enunciated the nickname, chuckling when Gai shifted awkwardly in his spot. “There’s so much we could do.”

“If you’re suggesting what i think you are, i would like to remind you that you are a screamer and Kurenai will slaughter us if her daughter hears...that.” A fair point. The last thing Kurenai would want is her daughter finding out what the sixth hokage and his husband did when they were alone, and he did have troubles keeping quiet when he was with Gai.

Clearly the more risque activities would have to wait till later. When they were alone in a room. Perhaps Kakashi could convince Mirai to go somewhere where she couldn’t hear them. That was a challenge for him to face later.

For now though, he had a different idea.

Rubbing his nose against Gai’s cheek, he slowly made his way in towards his mouth while gently pressing smell kisses against soft skin along the way. The way Gai shivered under his assault was intoxicating.

The man who never broke.

Who had survived opening the eighth gate and lived through something that no one should ever have been able to live through.

That beautiful, unbreakable man was shivering because of him. He was weak, because of his actions.

Kakashi held all of the power in this moment and he loved it.

“My precious Turtle,” his breath tickled Gai’s skin, causing him to squirm just a bit under him. “So beautiful, laid out in front of me like the most delicious snack I could lay my eyes on.”

Gai snorted. “Snack? Did you get that one from Tenten?”

The answer was yes. Who else would he get such a ridiculous saying from?

Still, that wasn’t his concern at the moment, so he continued without a word. Making his way towards Gai’s lips slowly while he continued to whisper sweet compliments against beautiful skin.

Finally reaching his goal, Kakashi pressed a quick kiss against Gai’s lips before gently sucking his lower lip into his mouth, his hands coming down to settle on Gai’s chest as the Taijutsu master arched up into the kiss.

While Kakashi gently started to suck on the trapped lip, Gai ran his hands up his arms and into his hair. His Fingers settled in short silver strands, sending shivers down Kakashi’s spine.

Finally, Kakashi released his hold on it and moved back to admire his work. Gai’s eyes were half lidded and there was a peaceful, calm look on his face. The most beautiful picture he had ever seen.

“Perfect,” he smiled brightly “My beautiful Turtle, all to myself.”

“And i wouldn’t have it any other way.” Gai assured him with a fond chuckle.

#Kakagai #Hatake Kakashi #Maito Gai #Boruto Era #Vacation arc #i thought it was a cute arc to use #lol #Kakashi Hatake/Maito Gai #Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai #Trans Kakashi #25 Days Of Kisses

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 5 years ago

Note

Here, have a free pass to ramble about losleep!! -space anon

LOSLEEP RAMBLING YOU SAY

today’s losleep rambling sponsored by @blinksinbewilderment who gave me a prompt thingy to talk about: prince!Remy and knight!Logan losleep. also she looked it over (which is code speak for I wanted someone to read it while I couldn’t post it and she also did some editing while she read it and I believe in credit where credit’s due)

Warnings because I wrote this while my tumblr was nerfed so it got REAL long: Mentions of war/fighting/blood/injury, (false) belief that a main character is dead, not eating/sleeping, grief, but all and all a happy ending because Me

-So Remy’s a prince

-He’s as expected- slacker, not very interested in running a kingdom, mostly messes around in his room and goes between sleeping (rarely) and reading (excessively, since no twitter to scroll through in these times)

-Logan’s a peasant in one of the towns under the monarchy’s power

-He wants to be a scholar, but like I said… peasant

-He can’t afford proper teaching

-He also can’t read or write

-He’s very smart, of course, but there’s only so much you can learn from village elders and the such

-So Logan applies to get proper teaching from royal teachers

-No one accepts him, of course- he’s a peasant, why would they?

-He’s hanging around the area near the castle a lot, though, and eventually someone mentions to him that the only job he’d ever get at the castle would be as a guard

-So Logan figures, hey, at least with that he’d be in proximity of royal teachers and such

-So he becomes a guard

-Well

-Guard in training

-But, like with everything else, he takes very well to learning the sword

-And reflexes and fighting and protecting and all of that

-He ends up at the top of the ranks, tossed in with the group being considered for a new head of guard

-Head of guard not only organizes the squadrons and their patrols, but is also personal guard to the prince

-The most recent one was thrown out after being found conspiring against the prince, so this time, the prince himself will be helping to select his head of guard

-For reasons of trust and such

-Remy comes mostly before a dozen or so strong men fighting for the right to spend time with him can’t be that bad of a time, right?

-Logan catches his eye, not just because of his muscles (though that does help) but also for his skill- in his battles, he never has the physical upperhand… but he always wins with the strategical one

-Remy catches him in between battles, moving and speaking with ease and charm

-Most of the guards bow easily and greet him warmly, looking to be favored

-Logan doesn’t

-His bow and greeting are perfunctory, done of duty and training alone

-He keeps his eyes on Remy, but they’re bored, and Logan’s stiff. The prince does not excite him, especially not just by existing

-Remy should be offended

-But he isn’t

-He’s… intrigued

-‘so. looking to be head guard?’

-‘I’m looking to be whatever you need me to be, my highness’

-‘well then, would you be looking to be my head guard if I asked you to?’

-‘of course, your highness’

-‘and what if I told you to be head guard you had to call me beautiful?’

-‘then I suppose I wouldn’t be head guard, your highness’

-Remy just smirks

-He can work with this

-So Logan becomes head guard

-He’s only thrilled a little since being around the castle will likely mean more chances to hear information, to learn more

-But he’s mostly stuck with the prince who, in his honest opinion, is a moron

-Prince Remy’s flighty and daydreamy and cares more about his looks and flirting than the kingdom

-Logan will give him half points for being pretty enough to warrant part of his confidence but that’s about it

-The problem, however, is that for how much Logan dislikes Remy?

-Remy just loves him

-Not romantically though (not yet anyways)

-But he loves Logan as a person. Loves his stubbornness and his principals and his looks and his muscles and his brain

-Especially his brain! Logan may not know much (or speak much) but when he does, it’s always so… refined, especially for a peasant

-Remy just knows there’s more to him than meets the eye

-So he drags Logan around the castle, walking beside the head guard as he talks endlessly, mostly jokes and flirts and compliments

-Logan mostly ignores him or gives him odd stares, but every once in a while…

-Well

-Seems not even the ‘emotionless’ guard is completely impervious to his charms

-Logan, if asked, would say he is

-(But he’s a liiiiiii-arrrrrrr)

-It all comes to a head three or four weeks after Logan is promoted to head guard

-Remy’s strolling them through a garden

-Logan’s focusing between the flowers and the area past the garden walls, looking for security threats

-That is, at least, until Remy completely catches his attention

-‘And you see, here, the common poppy, also known as the papaver rhoeas, or as I call it, the sleepy bitch flower-’

-‘wait. say that again’

-(no ‘your highness’ because Remy got sick of that within two days. He told Logan to call him ‘Remy’ or any variation of ‘beautiful’ he liked, but Logan seemed content to simply use neither)

-‘sleepy bitch flower?’

-‘no, no- the, the name you called it after ‘common poppy’’

-And Remy tilts his head with some confusion before he repeats the scientific name

-Logan’s eyes light up

-‘how do you know that?’

-‘well… I am a prince. I’ve had an expensive education’

-‘can you-’

-Logan cuts himself off before he can finish his thought, shaking his head mostly to himself and going back to looking for threats

-Because he wanted to know if Remy could teach him, make this worthwhile, let him actually get at that knowledge he had been seeking for as long as he could remember

-But Remy was a highly educated prince. Why would he want to help teach some peasant who’s quick with a sword?

-But Remy isn’t letting this drop

-‘can I what?’

-Logan doesn’t respond. Remy frowns

-‘guard, I’m ordering you to tell me what you were going to say’

-And Logan grimances, because he can’t defy a direct order, as much as he’d like to, so he sighs and finally turns back towards Remy

-‘can you teach me’ he says, lamely, not even a question, really, hoping that Remy won’t respond to it, especially since Logan could already feel his reactions: anger, disgust, maybe amusement as if it were some sort of impossible joke

-That wasn’t his reaction

-Instead, Remy smiled, and tilted his head even further

-‘I’d be happy to, if you really want, hun’

-Logan’s… surprised, to say the least

-‘you… really? No jokes?’

-‘none. swear it on this patch of sleepy bitch flowers’

-So Logan starts getting an education

-Instead of wandering all day long, he and Remy sit down in Remy’s room, where he’ll pull a book at random off the shelf and start teaching Logan from it

-It’s not easy, at first, especially with having to teach Logan how to read and write

-But they do have a lot of time, so eventually, Logan has the alphabet down, and he’s starting to be able to spell all those complicated words he can say with ease

-It’s about two weeks into all the learning that Remy breaks the schedule they had fallen into

-‘y’know, Logan, all this has been fun, but I’m starting to feel a little taken advantage of’

-‘…how so?’

-‘well, babes, I’m teaching you all this stuff, and yet getting nothing in return. I think that’s going to have to change’

-Logan’s not sure what Remy could possibly want from him. He’s just a peasant guard, after all, he has no riches that the crown cannot outmatch with ease. All he really has is himself and… oh

-‘I’m not entirely sure why I would be your first choice for, eh… such, um, matters, your highness, but if that is, eh, what you… require, than, uh, I-’

-Remy raises a hand and silences Logan

-‘firstly, sugar, I think I told you to stop calling me ‘your highness.’ secondly, I was gonna ask you to teach me the ways of the blade or whatever. What were you thinkin’?’

-Logan doesn’t answer, just staring at Remy as his entire face steadily turns a very bright shade of red

-Remy stares back, still confused, until his eyes widen in understanding. His face quickly also becomes red.

-‘…I see. uh, please… please never think that, just uh, never, ever think that again. um. yes’

-So, horrible miscommunication and following insane awkwardness aside, Remy is now getting sword lessons!

-They can only practice at night, however, because Remy’s parents and kingdom are based on a foundation of peace

-The prince should look pretty and be smart and uphold peace, not be weapons training

-But it’s fine, because Remy’s already used to nighttime environments and Logan say it’ll help with his night vision/night fighting, should he ever need it

-So now they’re learning by day, fighting by night, and sleeping during dawn and dusk

-All sounds good, right?

-Well it gets even BETTER

-Because, really, there’s only so much time two pretty gays can spend around each other and remain uninterested in the other

-Helps that Remy’s never been exactly ‘uninterested’

-And that, for all he protests it, Logan has always found an odd sort of charm to Remy’s… Remy-ness

-So things, as they are ought to do, start happening

-Hands brushing more often as Remy passes Logan papers and quills, his smile never changing no matter how many times he saw Logan’s eyes light up as he learned something new, Remy always congratulating Logan on a day well spent in a soft tone matched with a sincere smile

-Remy constantly seeming to need Logan to readjust his grip on his sword, Remy favoring moves that forces him and Logan right beside each other as they trade blows, Remy still stumbling despite being such a quick learner (but he only ever stumbles when Logan can catch him, and he always seems to linger in the soldier’s arms. doesn’t help that Logan lets him)

-The trip back to his sleeping quarters seeming to become more tedious every time Logan has to make it, one time even falling asleep for a minute halfway there, making it easy for Remy to convince him that it’s quicker, and safer, if Logan just shares his bed when it’s time to sleep. to protect him better from attacks twenty-four/seven Remy says

-Because it’s just for protection, really, when Remy curls up against Logan, and Logan wraps his arms around him, just protection to hold him close, because if there’s an attack he’ll be able to get Remy moving as quickly as possible, and like this he’s blocking attackers from getting to the majority of Remy’s torso, which is very important

-It’s also important to be warm

-And to be able to nestle his head on top of Remy’s

-And to listen to Remy mumble in his sleep quietly and nonsensically and yet beautifully

-But that’s still all for protection, clearly, since a warm, talking Remy held close to Logan is a safe, living one

-And those are the only reasons he’s doing any of this

-Clearly

-Things continue like that for a few months

-Fleeting glances, prolonged touches, too much sincerity in what should be harmless flirts and pet-names

-Talk starts up, of course, between the guards and the lords and such

-Talk of the head guard who has a much too close relationship with the prince

-The two of them spend all day with each other, they whisper, and they spend all night out and about doing something, something explicit, likely

-Logan’s not even reporting to the barracks, anymore; stopping by in the mornings to assign their stations for the day, but never for bed, never to sleep

-It doesn’t take a fool to guess where he must be sleeping instead

-Remy and Logan mostly ignore it

-They don’t care, after all

-Logan is still the guard Remy’s chosen and trusts

-Logan still protects Remy, and he would do so with his life if it came to it

-The king and queen, luckily, also don’t mind

-It helps that Remy has made it clear to them, multiple times, that he and Logan are close, yes, but not like that

-They’re just friends, he says, and he’s not lying, even if he almost wished he was

-So they allow it

-But it’s a grim reminder, the day Remy finds a book of royal etiquette left in front of his door, a very specific page marked

-Royals marry Royals or Nobles

-They do not hold relationships with peasants

-And they are never officalized

-Ever

-‘it’s not pertinent information to us’ Logan says when Remy drops it on the table

-‘nope.’ Remy agrees. He smirks at Logan, but it’s slightly more flat than it should be, doesn’t carry the right weight with it. ‘thought if you fall in love with me, let me know’

-Logan smirks back at him, but it’s also flat, also wrong

-‘not a problem’ he says

-But it already is

-But it’s alright

-They’re alright

-They still have their lessons

-Logan still protects Remy (from day to night, and from dusk to dawn)

-Remy’s still… not dead

-So they’re fine

-It’s fine

-Everything’s fine

-Until it isn’t

-There’s an attack from a western nation

-The kingdom’s thrown into war

-And they need soldiers

-When they say that they have to take Logan away for the fight, Remy protests as much as he possibly can

-He needs a head guard! There are plenty of men who can go! Why must it be Logan?

-Because Logan’s a strong fighter. He’s tough. He’s one of the best guards they have. They’ll replace him with five guards, Remy will be safe, they promise

-When Remy spits at them that they know that’s not why he’s upset they just look away from him and say they’re sorry

-It hurts to say goodbye

-Logan tries to tell Remy he’s going to make it back, tries to promise that he’ll return

-Remy just shakes his head and asks him not to

-Because they both know he can’t promise that

-And Remy can’t take that false hope

-So they just say goodbye

-And pretend neither of them want to cry (because they do, but Logan’s a head guard being sent to battle and Remy’s a prince with an image to maintain)

-And Remy pretends he’s just staying by the gate as long as he can see the troops marching off for the fresh air

-And Logan pretends that he just keeps glancing back as long as the castle’s within sight to check that all the men are keeping in file

-The time they spend apart is… hard

-Remy doesn’t sleep as well, the bed colder, and his dreams always nightmares now, bloody and much too realistic

-In the middle of a warzone, Logan isn’t sleeping any better

-Remy has nothing to do with his time anymore, no lessons he can teach or learn, his love for books gone sour without Logan

-Logan is constantly thrown into battles, fighting not necessarily for his life but for the one he had with Remy, fighting to get home

-After six months, Logan is taken captive in battle

-He’s only a prisoner for three days, however- the troop that caught him is unorganized, mostly untrained; his bindings are loose, his guard is easily distracted, and by the nightfall of the third day he’s gone

-But Logan’s injured, a bad leg cut alongside the common scrapes and bruises

-He makes it to a forest near the battle zone, and gets as far into it as he can, because he knows he won’t survive trying to cross the warzone to get back to his squadron

-He makes his way through the forest instead, surviving on plants he knows are edible thanks to his lessons with Remy

-But by the time he gets to the other side… his squadron is gone

-Moved on to a new fight

-And he’s officially MIA

-Back at home, Remy knows none of this

-His parents are getting updates from the war, but they refuse to tell him anything but vague details of general stats

-Remy almost prefers not knowing

-If Logan really was hurt or a prisoner or…

-Well

-Remy’d just rather not know

-At seven months, the nation warring against them offers to establish a peace treaty

-But only on one condition- that Remy is the one to negotiate with them

-It’s clearly a trap, the nation clearly hoping that the inexperienced prince will be a poor negotiator

-But Remy agrees, because he doesn’t care what it takes

-He wants peace

-He wants Logan home

-They meet at a neutral point, beside the road that is between both their territories

-Each bring the same amount of guards, who all station themselves at equal points around the area, to serve not just as protection but also as witnesses to the deal to be made

-Everything goes fine enough at first

-The nation’s king makes a demand, Remy matches with something lower, they come to a compromise and move on

-Remy knows he could probably be bargaining harder, longer, for better peace and better benefits for his kingdom, but he doesn’t care. He just wants this all over with

-Eventually, however, things go south

-The warring king makes too high of a demand, and Remy can’t offer him anything he’ll take

-He gets frustrated by Remy’s offers and he draws his sword

-The warring king shouldn’t even have had the sword on him, not at this meeting of peace, but Remy’s not surprised when he draws it. No one brings a sword to a peace meeting and doesn’t use it

-His parents hadn’t allowed him to bring his own, but that’s alright

-Logan had known he’d never be given a sword

-So it’s more instinct than thought when he reaches over and steals the sword of the guard beside him, the move one he had practiced many a time before

-He takes a single step back as he does, avoiding the jab the warring king makes at him with ease

-It’s three slashes to get the king’s balance thrown off, the sword thrown behind him and barely in his grip

-Remy turns to the side just enough to elbow the king in the chest, hard

-The king stumbles, falling, his sword fully slipping out of his grasp and sliding across the ground

-Remy puts a foot on the king’s chest, presses the tip of his blade to the base of his throat

-None of the guards move

-It is clear that the battle started is a problem of the negotiators, not them

-Remy leans down, putting more weight on the king’s chest as he does so, sword tipping moving up to rest uncomfortably close against the top of his neck, just below his chin

-‘this war ends tonight’ he says, voice low and and serious and deadly. ‘the only choice you have left in the matter is whether or not I seal the peace treaty with your blood’

-The king agrees to a peace treaty that easily favors Remy’s kingdom by an insane degree, but he does walk away with his life, so it balances out in the end

-The troops and soldiers and guards come home

-Remy is ecstatic

-Ecstatic until it’s been two hours of men straggling home and nowhere amongst them is Logan

-His parents eventually pull him aside and tell him the truth

-Logan’s been missing for a month and a half, last heard of as being a prisoner to the other side

-He’s assumed KIA, but officially he’s just MIA

-Remy’s… well, Remy’s a lot of things

-Angry, at first, that they never told him, that he didn’t have a chance to force a peace earlier, to find a way to help him sooner

-Then desperate, talking to every soldier he can, hoping for any hint, any information, anything that might lead him to Logan, to even lead him to believe he’s still alive

-But no one has any good information, nothing to put him at ease, nothing to help him, only to hurt him even more

-So then he’s just… well, sad isn’t quite it

-He feels more numb

-Empty

-As much as it hurt to exist away from Logan, it hurts even worse to be forced to exist without him, likely forever without him

-He no longer has nightmares, but he doesn’t dream, either, just sleeping and waking and barely recognizing the gap in time

-Remy wanders the palace, because there’s nothing else to do, and sitting still just makes the void in his stomach settle in place and hurt worse, so he keeps walking, endlessly in circles with little regard for how long he does for any stretch of time

-It’s been two weeks since the soldiers returned home

-Remy’s out in the garden

-It’s late, but what does he care?

-Day, night, light, dark… it doesn’t matter anymore

-None of them have Logan in them

-So he’s in the garden, wandering past the flowers and plants with very little care

-He stops by the patch of poppies, still alive and blooming even though it’s been roughly a year since Logan asked Remy to teach him

-He brushes his fingers against them

-‘Common poppies’ he says, because Logan liked it when he’d list the plants and flowers and their names, common and scientific, because it was knowledge and learning and Remy loved it too because his eyes would always light up and-

-‘Common poppies’ he repeats, voice now sounding choked as he fights back tears, ‘also known as papa- as papaver rhoeas’ he manages, and he’s stumbling over the words and the pronunciations are wrong but that’s okay, really, it’s not like anyone cares now, especially not now that- that-

-‘I think I prefer to call them sleepy bitch flowers’

-Remy turns so fast his vision blurs (which might also have to do with the lack of sleep and his non-existent appetite and the tears he’s one hundred percent sure are in his eyes and running down his face)

-He almost doesn’t believe his eyes

-But that tone? That reference? That voice?

-Remy knows it even before he sees him standing there, in the middle of the garden, looking dirty and tired but alive, oh so very alive

-It’s Logan

-He’s next to him before either of them can so much as blink, holding Logan’s face in both of his hands, looking him over

-‘Are you alright?’ he asks, because that’s what matters first, matters now that he’s here and with him

-‘More than’ Logan answers. He’s tired, yes, and there’s still a healing scar on his leg, but it’s been two months and he knows how to take care of himself, knew how to get what he needed as he fought his way home, giving up on finding his troops and instead focused on finding his way back to Remy, on finding his way back home

-And now that he’s here, now that he is home… he’s almost certain he could fly

-Remy nods to himself, glancing over Logan again, finding him dirty and ragged and a little bloody but he really is okay, really is alright, and he looks back up, finally, looks in those crystal blue eyes that he’s been missing for too long, and it’s not a choice so much as a need when he pulls Logan forward and kisses him

-It lasts for a mere second, Remy pulling back almost immediately after he moved forwards

-They pause, looking at each other, eyes wide, both surprised

-And then they kissed again

-It lasts longer this time, like it’s meant to, the kiss filled with desperation and fear as if the other will suddenly disappear again, as if this isn’t the beginning of their forever but instead the end of it

-But it’s also filled with hope, with hope and promise and love, filled with every bit of wishful thinking and misplaced hope that they had throughout it all, all of it building up to one thing, to one moment- this one, right here, right now

-When they pull away this time, they’re breathless

-Logan’s hands had moved to hold Remy’s waist, while Remy’s still cradling Logan’s face, and even when they pull away they press their foreheads together because they just can’t let there be space between them not now, and likely not for a long time

-‘I’m going to marry you’ Remy promises, fervently, and maybe hastily, but he really can’t bring himself to care at all

-Logan laughs, and it’s watery but it’s genuine, ‘I don’t think you can do that’

-‘Don’t care. I’m going to marry you and make you my king and you’re never going to get sent away to any stupid war ever, ever again and I’m not going to- I’m never going to lo- to lose you again because I- I can’t-’

-Logan’s arms slip from their place at Remy’s hips to wrap around his back instead, holding him close as Remy sobbed into his shoulder, and Logan cried too, Remy’s arms moving to hold Logan too

-They stayed like that for several minutes, holding each other and crying, every once in a while murmuring something, sometimes a promise or partial sentence but mostly just the other’s name

-Eventually they start to sag even more heavily against each other, Logan tired from his journeys and the remnants of his injuries, Remy tired from sleepless nights and feeling so empty for so long

-They stumble to Remy’s room, to Remy’s bed, to their bed, still holding each other even as they fall onto it, curling into each other as they get comfortable

-In the morning, Remy will call the court doctor and make sure Logan’s truly okay, and wrap and bind and take care of whatever they need to

-They’ll then go to face Remy’s parents, together, still holding each other, as Remy declares he’s going to marry him, regardless of what they say or think

-His parents will protest it for a moment, but not long

-And they’ll begin the wedding preparations as soon as possible

-But for now, they’ll sleep, holding each other close, finally warm, finally close, finally whole again

#guys when I say long I mean LONG #this is over 4k!!!!#so only read when you got the time dcvdscvdsjc #losleep #ts remy #ts sleep #ts logan #the cryptid speaks #the cryptid answers #space anon #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sander sides #blink #sleepy bitch flowers: the musc- shit I mean- the bullet fic

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itachi-uchiha-deserved-better · 4 years ago

Text

Gai strained against the rubble in the doorway trying against all odds to hope that the house he was about to search hadn't become yet another tomb in the destroyed remains of Konoha. It was getting hard, even for someone as optimistic as him, to continue to expect more survivors to emerge from wherever they had been trapped. It had a little over a week since the fight against pein had destroyed the village, but there was still so much if it to search and not neatly enough extra hands to search it all fast enough.

Gai had been pulling triple shifts on the search parties to try and pick up some of the extra weight on the search teams shoulders, but Kakashi had threatened to have Gai forcibly sent to the makeshift hospital if he didnt give himself some time to rest. So now he was down to double shifts and he refused to stop until they were sure all of Konoha had been cleared.

He hoped to find living people, some injured, some just scared and hungry from days trapped in collapsed buildings.

He expected to find bodies. Even with Pein's reanimation, people who had come back to life half crushed wouldn't survive long and without water more people would die alone in the dark.

What he didnt expect was the thing he found when the large chunk of rock that was blocking the entrance to the house finally gave.

Or rather the person he found.

Sitting in the remains of the kitchen, legs crossed, eyes up watching him carefully.

Itachi Uchiha.

Gai leapt back away from the door, his gaze dropping away from the Uchiha's face, those dangerous eyes, and his body instinctively slipping into a fighting stance.

He waited for a blow that never came. Itachi didnt so much as move a muscle.

"Might Gai...it's been a while."

His voice was deeper than what Gai remembered. He must have been 18 by now. If he'd been skilled enough to wipe out the whole Uchiha clan single handed at 13, Gai could only imagine how much more deadly Itachi would be now.

He needed to strike hard and fast if he had a hope of surviving, a hope of getting back to Kakashi. He had to get back to Kakashi.

Still carefully avoiding Itachi's eyes, Gai opened the first three gates and felt power, energy and strength rush through him.

Itachi didnt move. Didnt stand. Didnt even speak. Was he that sure of himself? That sure that he could stop Gai before Gai had a chance to cut him down?

It felt off. Gai scanned Itachi's body. Noted a rapid, pained breathing, dried blood on his clothes. Was he injured? Or was that the blood of the citizens of Konoha.

For Itachi to show up so soon after Pein's attack was too much of a coincidence to dismiss.

"Your not going to kill anyone else, Itachi. As the leaf's blue beast it's my duty to stop you here and now."

Still Itachi didnt move, "you're right."

Gai gathered himself, his courage, swearing that he wouldn't lose this fight. If anyone stood a chance here, to stop Itachi before he could sow more devastation, it was Gai.

Itachi's words registered late.

"Y-your not? Hey now what kind of trick is this? Stand up so I can fight you!"

Finally Itachi moved, but it was just to shift in his chair to find a more comfortable position.

"No."

Gai frowned. He didnt know what to make of this. Kakashi might have. Or Shikaku or Shikamaru. All he knew was that Itachi was one of the most wanted rogue ninja of the hidden leaf, a mass murderer.

It must be a trick. That was the only answer. Gai wouldn't fall for it. He raised his fist and started a charge.

He expected Itachi to move out of the way. Expected him to launch a counter attack. Expected him to do something. But as Gai rushed in Itachi just bowed his head. Seconds before he impacted, when it was clear Itachi really wouldn't raise a hand to defend himself, Gai changed the angle of his blow, instead connecting with the wall of the house and coming to a stop with his arms up to protect himself from falling debris.

Once the house settled again, Gai turned to face Itachi again.

This time he really looked at him. He hadn't been spared from the falling rubble. A fresh line of blood trickled down from a new gash on his temple. His head was still bowed, eyes closed. His skin was pale, his face sallow and gaunt. It was strange, so far removed from the bright young man he'd thought Itachi to be before-

"Why didn't you strike?"

"I wont harm an opponent who wont defend themself." It was one of his rules, something he would never compromise on.

"That didnt stop me." the words should have been intimidating, a stark reminder of what Itachi was capable of. But the way he said it caught Gai off guard. There wasnt any darkness in the words, just a blatant admission of fact.

"No. It didnt."

***

Itachi wasnt sure if he was trying to provoke Gai into launching another attack at him or if he was just tired of denying what had happened.

He'd heard someone moving rubble outside the house he had found to take shelter in. He'd assumed it was another root agent. Not that it mattered. He could hardly stand, much less run.

When Gai had pulled the rocks aside, Itachi had made his decision that this was where he stopped running. Of all the people who might have caught him, he was thankful it was Gai. He'd always held Gai in extremely high esteem and it was leaps and bounds from being taken down into Danzo's root headquarters deep beneath Konoha where he would likely never see daylight again.

"Why are you here, Itachi."

Itachi could hear the struggle in Gai's voice. A conflict in Gai between the desire to take down a dangerous enemy and whatever it was in him that had made him pull his strike.

"The roof fell in while I was sleeping." He knew it wasnt the answer that Gai was looking for, that Gai's question had nothing to do with why he was in this specific building, but Itachi was also honestly too tired to care. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead against them.

Silence. No footsteps, so he knew Gai hadn't moved.

"If you aren't sure about fighting me, then you can call the ANBU. They'll thank you for handing them such a high value target."

"An S ranked rogue shinobi." Gai said flatly.

Itachi nodded.

"A clan killer."

Itachi nodded again.

"A heartless, cold blooded murderer."

Itachi sat limply.

"Why are you here, Itachi."

Itachi sighed, "I'm tired. Are you going to attack me?"

"I told you, I wont fight someone who wont defend himself. Will you fight?"

Itachi breathed as deeply as the pain in his chest allowed.

"No. I'm done fighting. I've spilled too much blood and I wont spill any more."

Itachi heard a soft scraping of fabric and he opened his eyes a sliver. The green blurry shape was now sitting across from Itachi, his own legs crossed, facing Itachi.

"Why are you here?"

"Why do you care what my answer is? What will it change?"

Another beat of silence. But when Gai's answer did come, it surprised Itachi.

"Maybe nothing. But the Itachi I remember and the Itachi that sit before me do not strike me as the monster who slaughtered the Uchiha. Maybe you are that. But if you aren't, isnt it worth the chance that what you have to say might change something?"

This time it was Itachi's turn to let the silence linger.

He was done running. He was done fighting. It was time for Itachi to face his truth and let the rest of the world deal with him how they saw fit.

"It's a long story." Itachi warned.

"Then I suppose you ought to start."

***

When he was done, Itachi suggested that Gai blindfold him. He suggested Gai bind his hands and feet too, but Gai had refused, insisting that he believed Itachi, that he trusted Itachi. He agreed to the blindfold with the knowledge that it would prevent immediate action by the remaining uninjured jonin as Gai helped Itachi back to camp.

Gai hoisted Itachi, who was too weak to stand on his own power, and slung the young man's arm across his strong shoulder.

As soon as Gai was sighted there were shouts for a medic. Those shouts died as Gai and Itachi came closer and people began to recognize him past his loose hair hanging around his face and his eyes covered. A heavy silence fell over the camp at the center of the rebuilding process. Itachi didnt need to see to feel the massive amount of chakra around him and feel the stares of hundreds of Konoha ninja and civilians.

"Where is Lord Fifth?"

"Thats-"

"Where is Lord Fifth!" Gai roared at whoever had spoken.

"She's in the hospital tent. There was an incident."

"Danzo" Itachi mouthed the word. It was just like him to take advantage of a time of crisis in the village.

"Then find me Kakashi. Go."

Itachi let his mind tune out the mindless buzz of the camp as Gai directed someone to bring the Jonin together. His fate would be decided soon, based on the truth. The whole truth.

For better or worse, Itachi was home.

#itachi uchiha #non akatsuki itachi #prose #prompt #AU

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