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not-oscar-wilde · 4 years ago

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Revived

The apocalypse has been averted, the timeline fixed, and the Hargreeves siblings returned to 2019. Herb decides to do them one more favour and save the life of one Dave Katz.

I wrote a new fic! read it below the cut or on AO3.

The pain in Dave’s chest was unbearable. Klaus was above him and he was speaking, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. He wanted to comfort him, to stop him from panicking and tell him he loved him, but he couldn’t get the words out. He could only try and keep his eyes open, to keep his eyes on Klaus and try to psychically tell him everything he needed him to know, before the pain won out and everything turned black.

And then he woke up.

Though the room around him smelled sterile, it wasn’t like any hospital or medical tent he had ever been in before. He was lying in a crisp, white bed, with a myriad of wires attached to his body. Some of them he recognised, the IV drips were standard, but the majority were completely alien to him, from those puncturing his skin to those seemingly just stuck to it.

“Good afternoon, Mr Katz,” a smooth, female voice said in an accent that reminded him vaguely of movie stars. But when Dave looked around the room, he was completely alone, accompanied only by strangely flat screens he couldn’t see properly from his position on the bed. “Please remain calm. I have notified our Medical Team that you are awake and someone will be with you shortly.” There was something wrong about that voice, some kind indescribable, minute wrongness that unsettled him.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“You are in the Intensive Care Unit of the Temps Commission Infirmary, Room 9,” the voice said.

The Temps Commission Infirmary? He’d never heard of that hospital, and it definitely didn’t look American or Vietnamese. “The what? What happened? And who are you?”

“The Temps Commission Infirmary, attached to the headquarters of the Temps Commission. You were shot through the chest in A Shau Valley, Vietnam, February 21, 1968. I am VINA, your Virtual Infirmary Nursing Assistant.”

He’d been shot. He remembered it, remembered the pain, remembered the way Klaus had screamed and held him and how he hadn’t managed to say anything before the world had gone dark. What had happened to Klaus? To everyone? “How long have I been here?”

“You have been in the TCICU for three days, six hours, and thirty seven minutes.”

But when he brought his hand up to his chest, there were no dressings, just bare, unmarked skin. If he had been there for six days, if he’d been shot… He should be dead, or at the very least, heavily bandaged. Before he could think too much about that, a door slid open like something out of a sci-fi movie, and a tall, dark skinned woman with a serious face walked in. “Good afternoon, Mr Katz. My name is Doctor Onyeka Nwoye. How are you feeling?” she asked as she approached his bed, examining the screens. If there hadn’t been much stranger things going on, he would have been mildly surprised by a black lady doctor being sent in to treat him. He forgot, sometimes, that not everywhere was like Texas. But he was immensely glad of that fact, particularly if she’d been the one to fix him up.

“I’m good,” he said, and as confusing as it was, that was true. He shouldn’t be feeling good. He’d been shot, and he felt fine. That shouldn’t be happening.

“Any pain?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Good, that’s good. VINA, anything to report?”

“Mr Katz has not experienced any physical complications during the healing process. His body has responded well to the treatment and brain scans indicate that no neurological damage has occurred,” the disembodied voice said. The voice that didn’t belong to a person at all, if Dave had understood correctly. VINA had to be some kind of automaton, a computer that could speak. He didn’t much like that.

Doctor Nwoye nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “A complete success, then. I would like to keep you under supervision for another twenty-four hours, but if I have no concerns at the end of this period, I see no need to keep you here any longer.” With that, she set about detaching the various wires from his body.

“Where is here? I know we’re in some kinda hospital, the… Commission?”

“Yes. We are an organisation dedicated to fixing, monitoring, and eliminating timeline anomalies,” she said, as if that made any kind of sense. “And, in exceptional circumstances, minimising potential disruptions.”

Dave frowned, trying to translate her words into something close to regular English. He knew he wasn’t that stupid, but he sure felt it. “So I’m a- what was it? A timeline anomaly?”

“I am a doctor, not an analyst. I cannot tell you who or what the timeline anomalies are.”

“Were you there, when I got shot?” he asked instead.

Dr Nwoye laughed and shook her head. “Oh Lord, no. I do not have the disposition for time travel, and I think my wife would have my head if I were ever to set foot in the field. I work solely from inside the TCI.”

“Your wife ?” he repeated, his heart leaping. This was a woman with a wife. A woman in a world where she could not only love another woman, but marry her and be able to mention it so casually to a complete stranger?

“Do you have a problem with the fact your life was saved by a lesbian, Mr Katz?” she asked calmly, and his stomach sank.

“No, ma’am! I just… Where I come from, people can’t… I didn’t know there was anywhere you could have that kinda marriage.” Was this the future? The place that Klaus had talked about, had said he couldn’t ever go back to? Had Dave somehow ended up there in his place, leaving Klaus in the middle of a war he’d never even signed up for? But that world was ending. Klaus had told him that. So how was he here? “I was just surprised is all. I’m… you know, the same typa way.”

The slight smile returned to the doctor’s face, and Dave relaxed. “It was 1968 you came from, yes?” So that pretty much confirmed his ‘future’ theory. Dave nodded mutely. “I cannot say I know why your survival matters so much yet your injury could not have been prevented, negating the need to bring you here at all, but I will say I am glad you are more… progressive than some of your contemporaries. It does make my job easier.”

“Doctor Nwoye, you are needed urgently in Room 14,” the disembodied voice said before Dave could formulate an answer, and the doctor sighed.

“I am on my way. Mr Katz, if you need anything, just ask VINA.” And with that, the bizarre door slid open again and Dr Nwoye was striding away.

The room was silent for a few minutes as Dave thought about this whole situation. He’d think it a fever dream, but he wasn’t sure he was creative enough to come up with all of this. “VINA?” he said eventually, feeling more than a little silly speaking to an empty room.

But the disembodied voice responded immediately. “Do you require assistance, Mr Katz?”

“I…What the hell is going on?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. Please elaborate or rephrase to receive appropriate support.”

“I got shot . But I don’t even have a scar.”

“You are correct. Do you have any questions about your treatment?”

Dave exhaled shakily and touched his chest again. Even that should have hurt, and though he was incredibly grateful that it didn’t, that fact was in itself unsettling. “What kinda doctor can just make a bullet wound… vanish?”

“Dr Nwoye is an expert in bioregeneration and biotemporal manipulation.”

“Bio… Jeez.” He could guess at what those words meant, but truthfully, he had no idea. It may as well have been another language. Was this the world Klaus had come from? This strange world filled with people and words he didn’t know, where gunshots through the chest were not just survivable but left no mark, where unseen people watched and spoke with you, where a black woman with a wife could be a white man’s doctor. It wasn’t a bad world. It was simply so far from the one he knew.

Some things would always be the same, though: hospitals were boring. Dave was half out of his mind with it, staring up at the ceiling and wishing he had something to do. Talking to VINA was just a little too weird, with her uncannily smooth voice and questionable existence. So he got out of bed, deciding to explore. There were no windows, only artificial lights built into the ceiling. He couldn’t even tell what time of day it was. The room was neither warm nor cold, despite the fact he was wearing only white cotton shorts.

The door that the doctor had come in through didn’t have a handle. Instead, he found a panel of buttons on the wall beside it and pushed one hopefully. With a hydraulic hiss, the door opened and he stepped out into the hallway. “Please remain in your room. If you require assistance, this can be provided. If you are searching for the bathroom, this can be located through the other door within your room.”

It was strange, being scolded by someone - or something - he couldn’t see, and in such a calm manner. But Dave obeyed and stepped back inside the confines of his room. He may as well check out the bathroom if he wasn’t allowed anywhere else.

There were clothes folded up on top of a cabinet next to the shower, accompanied by a ziplock bag of toiletries and a towel. He figured those must be for him. He was about to strip off, out of the plain white shorts he’d been left in, when a wave of self-consciousness overtook him. “VINA?” he said hesitantly.

“Do you need assistance, Mr Katz?”

“I, uh… Are you watching me in here?”

“I am tasked with monitoring all rooms of the Temps Commission Infirmary.”

He’d spent enough time in the military to be comfortable enough getting undressed in front of other men. But in front of a woman? Even if she might be a machine and not a real woman, it still felt wrong, somehow. “Could I get a little privacy?”

“To ensure your safety and the safety of other patients, I am required to observe at all times. Surveillance footage is wiped from my systems after two weeks and is not accessible without appropriate justification from Temps Commission staff.”

That still wasn’t exactly reassuring. Dave couldn’t even see where VINA was watching from, couldn’t work out where to position himself to turn his back. He’d been changed out of his fatigues, so someone had surely seen his naked body here before and there was no guarantee that they were all male, but the irrationality of his desire for modesty didn’t change anything.

She’s seen it all before , he told himself. There must’ve been hundreds of naked people in this hospital. And maybe this is just how things are in the future .

His shoulders dropped under the warmth and the strength of the water. It had been so long since he’d had a really good shower. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had one so good. Perhaps Klaus had had a point, waxing lyrical about the joys of a hot bath.

But then he touched his chest, touched the unblemished skin, and the touch stole the air from his lungs. He could feel it, feel himself being torn apart by the most agonising pain he had ever felt. What was the difference between warm water and hot blood? It all felt the same, running down his skin. Hands shaking, he switched the shower off and sank down to sit on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest as if they could shield him somehow. He wanted his mom. He wanted Klaus. He wanted to be held and told that it was okay, that he was safe.

Eventually, he slowed his breathing enough to realise he was getting cold, the water having cooled on his naked body. He got shakily to his feet and dried himself off before busying himself with getting redressed. He could do this. It was systematic, routine, a way to feel just a fraction more normal, even if the clothes weren’t quite right either.

It wasn’t that he was ungrateful, but he did feel slightly strange in them. The pants seemed too fitted around the legs and a little too short, with rips across both knees. He supposed even in the future, free clothes couldn’t always be new or in best condition. But he’d be able to fix them up easily enough. He’d never been as well-taught as his sister, but he’d been so eager to copy her in whatever she was doing that his mother had decided it was easier to just teach them both.

He wondered what had happened to Marie. How long ago had it been for her since they’d last seen each other?

“Mr Katz, you have a visitor.” VINA’s voice was still startling, with no clear source and no warning.

“A visitor?” he repeated. Who was here, visiting him? Who even knew he was here?

“Would you like to allow them access to your room?”

Dave looked himself over in the mirror. His hair was still damp and the clothes may be strange, but at least he looked decent. He looked normal. He didn’t look like a man who had just been shot.

But he pushed those feelings down, squared his shoulders and kept his head high as he stepped out of the bathroom and back into the bare room. “Yeah, let ‘em in,” he agreed.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. A very short man in a suit and a pair of glasses stepped into the room with an air of someone who didn’t feel quite certain how much space they were able or willing to take up.

“Hi, Mr Katz, right? I’m Herb, I’m, uh, Acting Chair here at the Commission,” the small man said with an awkward wave. “It’s good to see you up and about! And- and the timeline should be safe from any, uh, any attempts at rescue, so that’s a big bonus.”

Dave had resigned himself to the fact that everyone here was crazy. But there was something warm about Herb, something he liked. “Can you explain what’s going on? The doctor, she said something about anomalies?”

“Ah, well, in this case, we’re, uh, preventing a potential anomaly. I’ve seen firsthand what a determined Hargreeves can do, and I figured if we make sure none of them have a reason to go messing up a timeline again, it makes our jobs here easier!”

Dave’s breath caught in his throat. “You know Klaus?”

Herb giggled. “Do I know Klaus? Everyone here knows Klaus, he’s a Hargreeves . But I met him! I mean, I’m basically friends with his brother Diego, so you could say I know him better than most people here.”

Dave could barely hear what Herb was saying. His mind was racing faster than his heart, the use of ‘know’ rather than ‘knew’ enough to sustain him. He was still alive. And even if he was old now, stuck on the slow path through time, Dave knew he would still love him. He would love him until the end of the Earth. That had been a silent promise, as unspeakable as everything that they were, but as real and constant as the sun rising every morning. Forever was too much to vow in a war zone, but the intent had always been there. “Can I see him?”

“Well, that’s the plan!” Herb said brightly. “If you’re willing, we drop you off with him in 2019, there’s no need for any more time travelling shenanigans from the Hargreeveses, and we can all get back to normal!”

Fifty one years had passed. Would Klaus even still love him, after all that time? He almost couldn’t picture Klaus as an old man, not when he was full of so much energy, when he was so childlike sometimes. Was he an old man? Or had he somehow found a way back home before he had the chance to grow old? Back home... “People back home, my family… What happens to them?” he asked.

“Ah. Well, they think you’re dead. And unfortunately, they kind of had to. I’m afraid even if you turn down our offer to join Mr Hargreeves, you can’t go back to 1968. We made sure of that. And ooh, boy, that was a tricky one, but you’re not our first faked death and you sure won’t be our last!” Herb laughed, as if this was normal. As if this was simply how the world worked. And maybe it was. Maybe the world was bigger and stranger than anything Dave had ever seen. Anything but Klaus, of course. He was the maddest, strangest, most beautiful world all of his own.

In his mind, it had been just over a day since he’d seen him. But he missed him as if it had been weeks, months even. Maybe years. Did the ache dull over time? Would Klaus still be missing him as badly as he missed Klaus?

“If you’re, uh, amenable, we’ll drop you off in 2019 as soon as you’re discharged.”

It was a leap of faith into an unknown future, a new world. “I am.”

#also working on a chapter two so stay tuned for that #klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #tua #my content #my writing

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luccislegs · 5 years ago

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Hi! I just found your blog and I love your hcs and scenarios. THATS WHY id like to ask you some scenario if thats alright: a girl with a demon akuma no mi joins the spade pirates and falls in love woth Ace. Is thats okay? Thanks!❤️

so i did a little research to make sure i knew what exactly an akuma was, bc my only run in with that word is from d. grey man and i think we all know that info gotten from anime should always be fact checked. i found that it’s a malevolent fire demon, so i’m going to write her as a very angry zoan type. sound good? good.

–

You stared in dismay at the flaming wreckage of your ship, which was in that state because you were incapable of controlling your anger. Which just pissed you off more. You huffed, feeling the flames spark at your fingertips before you clenched them in your fists. Just as you were getting ready to wander off, a chorus of voices filled your ears, followed by a group of pirates rounding the corner.

The leader was laughing raucously at some joke he had just told, but it tapered off as he caught sight of the fire raging.

“That’s some bad luck. What happened?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

You bristled at the question, immediately defensive. “None of your business.”

“Woah,” he said, holding his hands up in defense, “you don’t have to tell me, but it looks like you’re out a ship. Why don’t you join us for a drink? We don’t bite.”

You gritted your teeth, tempted to turn them down. Then you sighed and nodded, realizing you could do with something to calm your nerves and distract you from this disaster. No one said you had to actually stick around.

But as you made your way towards the tavern, the stupid jokes the leader, who you found out was the captain and that his name was Ace, was telling were hilariously stupid, and you were relaxed before you ever got into the building. Without even thinking, you joined them at their table, sipping at your own mug while the others powered through a dozen drinks. By the time 2 hours had passed, they were well and truly gone, but somehow you found you didn’t mind their rowdiness. It was a nice distraction from your ire and the fact that you were now stranded on this stupid island.

They were only there for 2 days before the log pose reset, and you were standing on the dock watching them load up. It left a sour taste in your mouth that you would likely never see them again, but you were grateful for the company they had provided.

They were getting ready to hoist anchor when Ace called out to you, “Aren’t you coming?”

You froze, staring at him dumbfounded, before shaking your head enthusiastically. “No, I– I really shouldn’t. I get angry sometimes and…well you saw what happened. I don’t want to do that to you or your ship. Thank you though.”

Ace grinned, hopping back down onto the pier. “Nonsense, _____. I guess you don’t know do you?” he said, and with a flourish of his wrist held a palmful of fire.

“Wait,” you said, your eyes widening with surprise, “you can control fire too?” That wasn’t necessarily the full extent of your powers, but you weren’t ready to divulge the rest just yet. You generally pretended to be a logia type, but in reality you were a mythical zoan with a terrifying form, and people generally didn’t like it. Best to let them believe you could just control fire rather than transform.

“Control it?” he asked with cocky smirk, “Baby, I am fire!” he said as his whole body lit up. He was surprised when you took a step closer, allowing your hand to be enveloped in the flames before it wrapped around his bicep. Somehow, he found that to be one of the most attractive things he had ever experienced, because no one could touch him while he was like that without getting hurt. But there you were, staring at him in wonder. “Our ship was built with me in mind, so you’ll be fine.”

You looked up at him with a hopeful shine in your eyes before your gaze moved to this ship. You bit your lip, taking a moment to consider whether you could really be happy with them, before realizing you already were, and nodded. “Okay, I’ll join you, if you’re sure.”

His answering smile set your heart aflutter, and you found yourself unable to help smiling back.

_____

Several months into your new adventure, and the others had finally stopped encouraging you to cut loose, much to your relief. It had taken several rather forceful refusals before they finally stopped, but you couldn’t say you were happy. It wasn’t that you wanted to avoid drinking and partying, but your temper was already short and hard to control, and alcohol just made it worse.

No one but Ace seemed to know this, though, and so he went through the extra effort of including you in their past-times, for which you were grateful. More often than not, he found his way to you in the bars or on the beaches, whenever you were docked, or on the ship when it was just your crew out on the open ocean, and sat beside you, talking about whatever came to mind. This encouraged the others to do the same, and you found it made you feel less alone.

It also began another ritual that you hadn’t foreseen. Sometimes, the flickering anger grew to be too much and you found yourself unable to sleep. On nights like that, you would make your way to the deck of the ship and use the gentle sounds of the ocean to soothe yourself. Somehow, Ace caught on to what you were doing and took it upon himself to accompany you, foregoing sleep to help you feel better. It was a nice gesture, but it didn’t help the new flames stirring next to the ever present anger. More than once, you found yourself more stressed out because he was there, and it was a struggle not to snap at him.

It was strange, how Ace seemed to be able to read you, because during times like that he would reach out and take your hand, and that would settle you down again. The constant heat of his hand, somehow hotter than your own, would tether you back to reality for a while, but then he would take it away again and it would start all over again. You were sure he didn’t know exactly why you were so irate, but you couldn’t tell him to go away when he was so sweet and just trying to help.

Some nights, he would give in before you and say goodnight with a gentle hand on your head and a teasing command not to stay up too late. You would smile and nod, and as soon as he turned it would drop, a sigh of relief following the sound of the door closing.

You were in too deep and you knew it, but you couldn’t push him away. And it just made the emotions swirling around inside you all the more confusing.

_____

As with all secrets, yours finally came to light in what was probably the worst way you could have imagine.

Ace was strong, as were the others, and as were you, but this time the enemy was just overwhelming. You were fighting your own group of enemies when you saw Ace fall. You didn’t know how, nothing had ever hurt him before, but somehow this person had done it. Before you knew it, you were exploding with rage and on a rampage.

The others cowered in fear, Ace looking on in awe as you unleashed your true form on the ones who had hurt your family, and the person you cared for more than anything. By the time you were done, nothing remained standing, and the others had run into hiding.

But you didn’t know that, and collapsed in the center of the destruction, thinking you had killed them all in the crossfire. Tears welled up and spilled over, and you began to sob into your hands. This is exactly why I’m always alone, you thought bitterly, all I ever do is hurt people.

Ugly anger and hurt swirled around inside you, blocking out everything around you, until warm arms enveloped you, hugging you close. You immediately recognized the warmth and struggled closer, hoping to disappear in his arms. You were so overwhelmed with happiness and shame that you couldn’t form words, and cried harder.

Ace didn’t say anything, rubbing your back and petting your hair until you had cried yourself out. Only when you pulled back did he open his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

Through watery hiccups, you said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was all you could manage to formulate, and you would have kept on if Ace hadn’t covered your mouth.

You stopped, eyes wide with fear. You expected him to berate you, to ask why you hadn’t told him that you were a zoan type, to tell you that you were a monster and you had almost killed them. Not that you didn’t know it already, but you would deserve it. You should have known better; you knew you couldn’t control your powers and that someone would get hurt eventually.

“I’ll leave, Ace. I promise. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I saw you were hurt and I just– I don’t know. I’m sorry,” you said around his hand, clenching his shirt in your hands. It was the last thing you wanted, but it was for the best. You couldn’t bear the thought of hurting anyone in the crew, most of all him.

To your surprise, instead of assent, you got confusion.

“Woah, leave? No one said– _____, you don’t have to leave. Yeah, you messed up, but everyone does. So did I. Your devil fruit powers are new, and you just need to learn to control them. I can help you, but as your captain, I’m telling you you aren’t allowed to leave,” he said, cupping your chin. His free hand came up to wipe away the tears still falling. “I don’t want you to.”

To your immense surprise, he leaned over and pressed his lips to yours, and your eyes fell half-closed, your body relaxing in his arms. When he pulled back, you started, staring at him in confusion. “I could have killed you and the others, Ace. I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt.”

He grinned, taking your hand and helping you to your feet before slinging an arm around your shoulders. The others had come out of hiding, swarming around you with mixtures of concern and awe. A barrage of voices, mainly consisting of “How come you didn’t tell us?” and “That was so cool,” filled the air. You had been expected resentment and anger, but they surprised you.

Then you remembered they were pirates, and figured they were probably used to almost dying anyway. It didn’t help you feel any less guilty, but it made you feel a little better that they didn’t outright hate you.

Ace began to steer you back towards the ship, willingly leading you as you stumbled blindly beside him. Your outburst had cost every ounce of energy you possessed and you were surprised you were even still standing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you learn to control it. It just takes practice, but it won’t do any good to run. We’ll just hunt you down,” he said, tipping his hat as he grinned down at you.

You laughed tiredly as the others began to shout in agreement, and you realized that you wouldn’t have been able to leave them anyway.

–

dont @ me

#portgas d. ace #portgas d. ace x reader #one piece scenarios

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suitedsalamander · 7 years ago

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last white lie | MadaKaka

this is super long and also on A03! this lines up with wage my soul IT DOES STAND ALONE though I do advise reading wage my soul and struck me yet is after this in the timeline. Gah I blame the enablers @madakaka which made me turn out over 3k which became this fic yesterday. another round of thanks to @purple-possibilities

Mature with some sexual themes. | Kakashi POV | MadaKaka

Agony is what he knows when he awakens.

This is familiar, so Kakashi moves to the next step: assessment.

His body isn’t about to go anywhere, and he lets himself sink fully into the muck as rain washes over his corpse. His chakra pathways are flaming lines of pain with no energy to speak of.

There’s nothing left.

Blood is seeping out from his left eye and the rainwater causes it to run down his face.

Obito’s parting gift burns and aches; the rain is cool and soothing on his skin, but chilling to his bones. If his wounds don’t kill him, hypothermia certainly will.

Kakashi’s head is jumbled a mess of things that could have happened, should have happened, and what will happen. All at once he feels younger and lighter, but twice as heavy and ancient for the knowledge he now possesses.

Is this my price?

Plagued by these thoughts, Kakashi can’t find it within himself to move.

Every breath rattles his body, the urge to cough itches the back of his throat. Kakashi doesn’t hear the footsteps, but even in his weakened state he can feel the presence of another. The power emanating from them is a startling warmth in the chill of the downpour. Forceful as well as fiery; he’s captivated by the chakra he's sensing.

And they are leaning right over me.

A cough wracks Kakashi’s body as he tries to move, iron flooding his mouth. Strong hands are gently grasping him and then removing the mask from his mouth, peeling off the last vestiges of his life.

He raises his hand up in an attempt to shield himself and instead grips silky hair.

Kakashi’s eyes flicker open, Sharingan swirling. The expression that passes of the dark-haired individual’s—a man’s—face looks like shock. It could also be rage, he’s too distracted cataloging the massive amounts of information the Sharingan gives him; the little lines on the man's face. The halo of long black spiky hair. The wild red hue of chakra almost too massive to be human.

Kakashi’s nerve endings are a tortured mass of suffering and this man is a balm to his vision.

“Angel?” He asks—surely this man can be nothing else.

“Shinobi,” the being clarifies. That’s just as good.

Kakashi has known demons; they could never look him in the face.

It's easy to look someone in the eye and lie.

Only one had been so daring as to hold him this way.

If this man is also one then so be it. His arms are comforting, and if he is the devil then Kakashi can count on the man to guide him properly into the next life.

But, Kakashi’s blade has fallen beside him, and he can’t reach it—as he must reach it—to pass on. It’s an old practice, and one passed down his family since their founding.

The Hatake were Farmers and Samurai first, then Shinobi. He remembers his grandmother first showing him how to hold a blade. She later passed, and then his father—sure and strong—directing his swing.

“Please,” Kakashi rasps. “Please put my sword in my hands.” Let me die with honor.

The air is getting thinner, and his sight blurring. There are none left who need him to fight for them.

In this silent place, everyone he once knew is absent. There is only the Will of Fire and the unknown Shinobi’s company to keep him warm.

Who am I without my loyalty?

There is a possessive curve and an edge of cruelty to his angel's lips.

Instead of a sword, another hand is placed in his. Kakashi finally places the symbol on his armour as the Uchiha fan.

“Not today.” You must not die. The man tells him, tomoe circling his scarlet eyes,

“You don’t have my permission. ”

Kakashi has never disobeyed an order.

“Angel,” he declares upon waking.

“Madara,” the man corrects, a wry smile twisting his lips.

“Angel,” Kakashi repeats, unwilling to take back his words. Then, “Kakashi,” half a beat later.

“I half expected you to be cursing me,” the Clan Head tells him, brushing his hair back with one hand. Dark circles rest under Madara’s eyes and he doesn’t look much better than Kakashi feels.

A glass of water is handed to Kakashi and he happily quenches his thirst. “Tough week at the office?”

“Ah. Yes.” Madara agrees, though Kakashi can tell he doesn’t exactly understand.

“Cranky old men, Elders, you know how it is,” Madara gestures and drops his hands to grip one another. It’s endearing to see the Uchiha Clan Head attempt to make awkward conversation.

“Yes,” Kakashi concedes before he can help himself. Shit. He doesn’t know the rules for this kind of Jutsu, but he does know he didn’t ask to get taken back. “Maa, did you tell them to find a kunai and sit on it?”

Madara arches one black eyebrow and laughs, low and throaty. His features are sharp and angular, though not to be mistaken for delicate or ephemeral in the way of Mikoto's or Itachi’s.

The resemblance in their rare smiles is . . . jarring.

“I should try that next time. Setting up a new village is tedious, and getting anyone to agree moreso. Then there was the subject of your appearance. “

“Why are to telling me all this?” When in doubt, bluntness rules out.

“You are one of ours now.” You are mine now. “If there is a security issue”—here Madara pauses to convey his doubt—“I will deal with it.” Your life belongs to me and I am responsible for everything you are, is what Kakashi hears.

Kakashi relaxes. “Duly noted. I have faith in your abilities.” My loyalty is yours.

Nothing more needs to be said.

“You should sleep,” Madara suggests, picking up a familiar orange book from the table to read. I’ll watch over you.

Kakashi hums and settles back down on the bed. Safe, he succumbs to sleep.

“Hello.” The young man has his head propped on his chin and he huffs out a bit of air in greeting. His long dark hair falls away from his face when he stretches

Ah, Kakashi thought, they come in miniature, then, where's the big one?

For a moment he thinks it’s. . . it’s. . . it’s. . . someone else. The hair’s too long, he reassures himself.

The newcomer grins and his eyes flicker down to beside Kakashi where Madara has fallen asleep. Madara’s long hair is coiled around him, leaving the impression of a slumbering dragon.

Kakashi’s position becomes immently more clear when he realizes the warmth he’s feeling is coming from Madara, and his hand just might be trapped in said hair as he pets the Uchiha Clan head.

The locks feel silky and strangely soft in Kakashi’s hand, despite their coarse appearance. “He must be tired after breathing all that fire.”

The young man kicks his feet out from under him, the move graceful and fluid but also making him appear five times younger than he is.

“He told you about the meeting with the Elders?” Bright eyes looked at him questioningly. His actions and appearance are achingly familiar. The breath leaves Kakashi’s lungs and he can’t manage to formulate a reply.

The Uchiha doesn't seem to care. “Oh.” The boy seems to shake himself.

“I'm Izuna by the way.” The way his lips tug at the corner says he’s more used to smiling then most Uchiha.

“Nice to meet you. He might have mentioned it in passing.”

“Huh. They wanted to rip out your eye. Big brother got a little huffy.”

“A little?” Kakashi muses, smiling. Someone—most likely Madara—has tied a bandana-styled bit of cloth over most his face. His hitai-ate is notably absent.

“Okay, a lot.” Izuna crowed, scooting closer at the prospect of sharing gossip. “His hair stood on end and everything, like a huge porcupine ready to stab someone with its spikes.”

“Kashi?” Madara mummers gripping him and nuzzling closer.

“I'm here,” Kakashi says, still trying to extract his hand from Madara's hair.

“S’nice. Stay,” the Village Hidden in the Leaves’ personal demon grumbles.

Kakashi stills and resumes his petting, fearing removal of his limbs otherwise.

Izuna stifled the Uchiha equivalent of a giggle (a different form of air exhilaration) behind his hand.

When Izuna still lingers in the room, Kakashi realizes that the younger Uchiha is acting as a buffer, not only for him but the older Uchiha. Clan tensions, it seems, are high.

“I’ve got him,” Kakashi tells Izuna, and he means it. His sword isn’t that far away, placed as it is on the table as well, and it’s not as if he needs his blade to afflict damage. Chakra is a steady thrum, resting just under his skin, ready at a moment's notice.

“Good,” Izuna agrees with an almost imperceptible nod. “He needs his rest.” The younger Uchiha stands. ”I’ll leave you both to it—oh, before I forget, training starts in a week.”

The door closes, Madara briefly stirs, reassures himself Kakashi is there, then sinks back to sleep.

Kakashi was skilled before he danced with the Shinobi of this time. Here, now, he was among the greats; how could he not seize the chance to learn more? Many of his abilities and renown came from his “Jack-of-all-trades” nature. He is still able to surprise his opponents, but takes care not to use too many Justu that he thinks may not have been invented yet.

Although Kakashi doesn’t sell himself short, he is no Madara. That being said, Kakashi has never had the opportunity to spar with one of the Founders before. His ability grows exponentially after each bout, or “training session.”

Sometimes one can’t progress without a good opponent; Madara is all that and more. He won’t actually kill Kakashi if he loses. Yet. The man is a monster on the battlefield, and they spend half as much time repairing the training ground as they do using it.

Over the course of weeks, theses session give them something equally valuable. They teach Kakashi and Madara how to move and work with each other. Madara is also in the process of examining the best way to connect and utilize Kakashi’s Sharingan, something he is immensely grateful for. Little by little the chakra drain lessens and Kakashi can feel himself growing stronger.

Kakashi takes to rising early each morning, and under Izuna’s watchful eyes, practices his swordsmanship. Specifically, the Kata’s passed down in the Hatake family for generations. He has always been good with a blade, and made point of keeping up on that. Left with little else to do, he practices to an extent he hadn’t bothered to since becoming a Jounin.

Izuna’s eyes are mirthful whenever they regard Kakashi, as well as speculative.

Madara has alluded to his appreciation of swordsmanship.

The younger brother begins to bring his own Katana along to face off against Kakashi’s Sabre.

Afterwards, Kakashi will seek out Madara for a brief spar, or find the man pouring over scrolls, frustration etched in every line of his body until Kakashi can convince him step away and fight.

It’s during the return journey from one of these morning workouts that Kakashi overhears the argument.

“This has gone on long enough! It's improper!” protests one voice.

“When last I looked, I was Clan Head,” Madara’s voice cuts in, low and angry, a monster roused from the depths. “I decide what's improper or isn't.”

“It's simply unsightly! You can't possibly mean to have him trail after you everywhere like some stray; Madara, see reason.” Bids one Elder.

Kakashi knows he shouldn't stop, that he ought to carry on and let Madara handle this.

He's dealt with this same talk before, and he’d be damned if he didn’t face it again on his own two feet.

Kakashi promised Obito he’d get to see the world; whether it was the last one or the next has no bearing. No matter how badly Kakashi wants to burst into that room, sword swinging, it won’t help. Anything he does now will only hurt their chances; this is a matter of custom and proprietary.

Beat them at their own game.

Minato’s voice spoke in Kakashi’s head, drawing him back to the days when his sensei was Hokage and had to deal with this incident in the first place. Kakashi recalls all the formal terminology and etiquette he was made to learn when it came time to meet the Uchiha Elders. If they were just as tiresome now, then it was a wonder Madara hadn’t ripped out their guts already, just to be done with it.

“He is a valuable asset and I consider him one of ours.”

“No one is disputing that merely, the matter of the eye.” “What would you have me do, rip it from his skull? Then what? Mount it on the wall like some sort of prize? We are not barbaric Senju to do such a thing!" Madara laughed low and mocking and Kakashi’s skin broke out in gooseflesh "I assure you, your retirement will occur before I allow that.” There was a wicked edge to his voice that stirred Kakashi’s blood. His heart is pounding out of control, as if he awoke in the middle of a thunderstorm and tried to call the lightning down.

Here is someone that will never leave him for any cause but Konoha.

In the face of honesty like that, Kakashi reverts to step one: assessment.

Kakashi use Shunshin to escape to his assigned room. It takes him a moment to locate his equipment in another dresser drawer. He’d mostly been wearing other Uchiha clan members’ castoffs. It didn't escape his notice that most of his tops had a huge Uchiha fan embroidered proudly on the back.

Kakashi’s ANBU armour and former clothes have been cleaned. His hound mask rests on a folded undershirt. He lets his hands trail over the painted ceramic. There are no flaws that he can find with touch or the naked eye. It’s smooth as the first day it was handed to him. The work of seals no doubt.

Kakashi dresses swiftly, straps the painted mask to his hip, and then steps out the door.

Madara is already waiting a mission scroll in hand.

“They're going to give us hell,” Kakashi states, observing the scroll and mission ready clothes.

“It might just be the other way around.” Madara smiles and nothing about it’s pleasant. Kakashi must still be recovering from blood loss, as he finds it attractive.

“Shall we?” He offers, gesturing for Madara to lead the way.

“Let’s.” Madara echoes, already striding away.

The day of the incident with Izuna and Tobirama, Madara is stuck in another meeting with the Elders and is only notified slightly before Kakashi. The kunai scarcely avoided all of the vital areas. Izuna himself seems to be taking the news the best and has been placed on light duty.

Right now, at the younger brother’s behest, Kakashi lopes down the corridors of the compound, seeking the elder of the two Uchiha. Madara had eventually left Izuna’s beside with murder in his eyes.

“Kakashi,” Madara says upon seeing him. The Clan Head is the sharpest he’s ever sounded. Darkness envelopes Madara like the bleakest of traveling cloaks. If Kakashi doesn’t stop him, he might very well storm out and kill the Senju brat for nicking his baby brother.

“This may not be the best time.” Madara continues. With fire blazing in his eyes and smoke swirling after his steps, he stalks closer. Kakashi closes the distance. The air is filled with the smell of soot and ash; Madara is a man made ruin. The threat of violence lays in wait.

Want, snarls the ugly part of himself, scenting blood.

Kakashi reaches for Madara and pulls the man down the narrow corridor of the Uchiha Clan’s main building. If they don't get out, they'll suffocate. Kakashi desperately needs to ground himself.

What’s resting between them shouldn’t fester any longer. This is his boiling point, and he refuses to let go even when the other man moves to pull away.

No more running.

“Kakashi,” Madara warns, clinging to his name like a lifeline. Madara acts as if he needs the reminder of just who he’s dealing with. There are a myriad of emotions flickering across his face in the subtle way of the Uchiha.

What Madara’s attempting to do, that’s not going to work. Kakashi knows who he’s dealing with. Destruction rests in Madara’s eyes, that’s fine; Kakashi wouldn’t mind being destroyed. Fire and chaos are just one part of creation, and he breathes in.

“Yes,” Kakashi answers, and knows what he's agreeing to. Kakashi tugs the mask down his face and steals a kiss from Madara’s lips. Madara grasps his arm and reels him back in for another.

Then another, and another, till Kakashi’s lips are swollen and his head is dizzy.

He can’t say when he last got the chance to breathe.

Kakashi curses when their positions reverse and his head hits the wall. Madara is holding him upright and caging his body with his.

Safe. Possessed. Owned.

Madara is doing everything in his power to steal the air from Kakashi’s lungs and return it every time their mouths meet. Madara is an inferno blazing hot enough to match the stars.

Kakashi’s wounds are being cauterized by his flame.

The sun rises and climbs over the mountain, prompting the people of the sleepy village to wakefulness.

Kakashi lays resting on Madara's broad chest. He’s humming to himself an old song Rin used to sing, his eyes half lidded. Arousal simmers under the surface, ignored for now, as Madara plays with the spikes that is his hair.

“The Silver Wolf, that’s what they’ll call you,” his lover says abruptly. By now, though, Kakashi understands that Madara never does anything abruptly. It’s just that what he contemplates isn’t always spoken out loud like he intends while thinking. It’s an amusing and, dare he say, adorable quirk.

“I've always been more of a dog person. A hound,” Kakashi admits, conceding to the point. My father was The White Fang, he wants to say.

Madara brushes a kiss on his shoulder, following the trail of previous marks.

“Dogs have masters, ” he murmurs, tugging on Kakashi’s ear lobe.

Panting, Kakashi tilts his head, baring his neck. “Then does that make you my keeper?”

Madara weighs his words, smugness dripping from him. “Perhaps.” Madara languishes, a god absent from his throne, and Kakashi basks in his presence.

“Every demon needs a hell hound,” Kakashi reminds him, kissing his jaw. Kakashi thinks he knows what kind of evil he’d like to be. He can always smell the residual iron of blood on his hands from where it never washes off. Here in this space, with this beauty beside him, is close enough to prayer.

“You are so much more than that,” Madara corrects, a hint of anger creeping in. “Kakashi, look at me,” he demands and grips Kakashi’s chin, tilting his head further till their gazes lock.

“You're mine,” growls Madara, seizing Kakashi’s lips for a searing kiss. His head spins. “My Samurai, I found you first.” The Uchiha declares.

Konoha was built because of a feeling, a shared dream between friends.

It will continue to stand because of their commitment.

“Live for the sake of it, for me.”

Kakashi can’t turn away from those garnet eyes.

There is only one reply to that order.

“Yes, Angel.”

#MadaKaka #madara uchiha #kakashi hatake #izuna uchiha #tobirama senju #naruto #anime #fic #naruto fic

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ohneets · 7 years ago

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It is with the happiest of heart that I say hello!!! It feels almost unfathomable to say that I’ve been on a hiatus for nearly a year! Can you believe it? I can’t! I have loads to share with you and you have loads to tell me! I’ve missed you all more than I can say and I cannot wait to hear how you’ve all been doing! So please message me and fill me in on how you’ve been fairing this past year! Here’s a bit of an update on me!

I cannot believe I’ve completed my first/freshman year of university. First, I have some incredibly exciting news I'd like to share! I was accepted into the Film Major at my university!!! I’ll be starting classes in the Fall. I absolutely adore this art form and I cannot wait to immerse myself in learning about what makes it so powerful.

Another major event of this past year was that I came out as bisexual to my two closest sisters!!!! My heart still races at the mention of it! Although it was one of the most difficult experiences I've ever had, it was also truly one of the most liberating things I’ve ever done. They have been so supportive and helpful and I feel ever so fortunate for their love. I have likewise been amazed at the cathartic gift it has been to have them in my life. They now know something so significant about who I am and I how feel. To receive love from them as a response is one of the greatest blessings I could have asked for.

(Here, I’d like to make a side note to anyone who needs a support system, someone to talk to, someone to listen--you can find that in me. I deeply understand the value in having someone to talk to. I didn’t have that kind of support for a long time and so I know how it can feel. I likewise know that sometimes coming out can be challenging and sometimes even dangerous or unsafe. I currently do not feel safe coming out to my entire family, so I too know how difficult it can be. Please know that you can confide in me. You have a friend and support system in me. I love each and every one of you.)

Along the same line, I met an incredible girl who lived in my apartment building during my last term. I am really quite smitten and if anyone is interested, I’d love to tell you about her. *cue fluttering heart*

I am feeling happier than I have in a long time. For about two years now I've been struggling with some extremely trying challenges, energies, and emotions. Depression and confusion, amongst other things, have cast a cloud on much of my mind. However, I am so grateful to say that I'm beginning to sense a shift in the state of things. I know that there is immense power in loving yourself. Envelope yourself in love and light and strength and believe in yourself. We are each so powerful, capable, and resilient. I can attest to that.

I have a number of new, and continuing obsessions! To begin with, Tegan and Sara are pure gems. Their music and their examples have given my so much joy and hope. The same can be said of Betty Who. This woman, I'm telling you, is purely magnificent. All three are so talented and so powerful. I am also really enjoying Pinterest right now. Slip by my page of you want to see what I've compiled. Also, has anyone else seen Cloud Atlas? My awe at this film is so grand that I can’t even begin to formulate words to express my feelings about it. Perhaps I'll find a way to in another post. Also, Arrival, and La La Land and so many other films!!! Also, where are my fellow INFJs at? Let’s talk!

In other news, Sense8. My heart is simultaneously ripping as well as bursting at the word of the it’s cancellation as well as the word of a 2 hour finale coming next year. I don't even know where to begin with my thoughts. Due to my studies, I haven't had the time to even watch the second season. This show has, in all honesty, changed my life. It gave me a beacon of light and hope and love at precisely one of the most difficult time of my life. I’ll never be able to express how much of a gift it was to me. And not only that, but the beautiful show has filled my heart with love for all the good in the world that can be done. There is so much power we are all capable of using. We can change the world for the better, inspire others with love and compassion for all. This show will forever live on in my heart.

My heart is full. I feel such love for you all. Please know that you are powerful. You are brave. You can make an impact. You are inspiring. And you are so loved.

My best,

L. xxxx

#ramblings #I'M BACK LOVES #I'VE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH #PLEASE WRITE ME UPDATING ME ON HOW YOU'VE BEEN!#i'm getting emotional #ohrossum #update

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trxgicfairytale · 6 years ago

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iwp for the scene that happened in canon thing

Send me a scene that happened in canon and I’ll write in detail how my muse felt in it!

As much as she enjoyed hosting tea parties, Maddie knew she would never feel as comfortable anywhere else in the entirety of Wonderland than she did in her citadel.

(Apart from bringing her to live with the ex-Hatter, and giving her the name Madeline, gifting her with this citadel was the only nice thing the Queen had ever done for her.)

She knew every inch of the darkened citadel like the back of her hand, every nook, corner and cranny.

As soon as they’d gone through the Looking Glass after making their ultimatum to the White Rabbit, Maddie had headed inside to change (and warm up a little, but no one needed to know that part).

The outfit she wore was heavier now, less easy to move in, but she enjoyed how wearing it made her feel immensely. Her outfits, her costumes, her hats, they were all a sort of armor for her.

Her plan was falling into place better than she could’ve ever dreamed, the thought made her dizzy with something akin to euphoria. After years of getting only halves, finally something in her life was going right.

“Morris, bring in the bait.” She said, unable to keep the smile off her face as she lightly touched his chest. If her outfit had allowed for more movement, she might’ve twirled. But since she couldn’t, she’d content herself with just thinking about how everything she’d ever wanted was finally within her grasp.

There were only a couple more obstacles in her way: Alice and the queen herself, and soon hopefully neither of them would ever be a problem for her again.

She stepped to the left as she sang and pondered how good it would feel to be rid of Alice. The woman she’d been compared to, and deemed lesser than, ever since she was a child.

The score she had to settle with Alice was twenty one years in the making. And the best way to do that was through Chloe. Hearing the tank coming her way, she snapped out of her fantasies.

“Last stop! End of the line!” She said. “We’ve arrived at the terminal phase of our trip, Chloe!” Bringing her hand-half closed into a fist-to her mouth to look like a microphone, she lowered it as she moved over to where Chloe was tied to the side of the tank, her feet resting on the grate along the side of the tank. “Did you enjoy the ride?” She asked, though in all honesty she really didn’t care whether Chloe had enjoyed the ride or not. It was no skin off her back either way.

To the kid’s credit, however, if she was scared she certainly wasn’t showing it. “I’m beginning to suspect you’re not a marriage counselor at all!”

Maddie ignored her and kept talking. “On behalf of our entire flight crew, welcome to your final destination-the citadel of Looking Glass Land, where the current temperature is a cold wind in August.”

“And objects in the mirror are grosser than they appear!” Morris added, and a genuine laugh bubbled from Maddie’s lips.

“For your own safety, please do not unfasten your seat belt until your head has come to a complete stop.” Maddie said as Morris untied her and set her on her feet.

“Well I’ll report you to your principal!” Chloe retorted, and Maddie admired her guts.

She knelt down to speak to Chloe. “There’s only one person above me in all of Wonderland, kiddo,” Maddie tapped on Chloe’s nose with each word. “And not for much longer.” Standing upright, she turned to Morris. “Take her to the tallest tower.” With a click and a beep, the tank was starting up again. “But! She is not to be harmed. At least not yet!” She said as Morris grabbed Chloe by the arm and started to tug her away.

“Oh, you’re looking at such a lawsuit!” Chloe responded, looking annoyed. Maddie really did admire the kid’s spunk. She went back to singing as she watched Chloe tugged away by Morris, before facing forward again.

“I’ll write the ending of your tragic fairytale!” She sang, knowing full well how true this was. They couldn’t both coexist. One of them had to fall.

And she was determined that it wouldn’t be her.

She’d fought for too long for that to be the case.

“Hatter!” The voice of one of her guards once again snapped her from her fantasies. “A group of five have broken through the mirror!”

It took her a couple of moments to tally up the math, but when she did, she knew she had the best joke ever. “That’s 35 years bad luck for them!” She said, laughing at her own joke as she walked over to him. “Was Alice from the realm of Queens among them?” She asked, closing her eyes as she waited to hear that was the case.

“Yes, but the others fought so fiercely that Alice and a very adorable rabbit were able to evade us.” He responded, and for a moment it felt like anger replaced the blood in her veins.

“Search every square of the land until she is found. And bring me the imbeciles you captured!” She snapped, waving her hand to dismiss him. As long as Alice was roaming about, she could still screw up Hatter’s plan.

And she couldn’t have that. Under any circumstances.

Her singing was much angrier now, much more impassioned. And when Morris and her guards brought Jack the White Knight, the Cheshire Cat and the Caterpillar in, she turned her head to look at them. “Poor Jack, laugh track, sad sack,” She faced forward again but looked at him once more. “fallen hero!” And again she looked away. “Bad news, you lose, light the fuse! See how the mighty stupid have fallen.” Maddie didn’t bother trying to hide the disdain in her voice as she turned to approach them. “Most of my prisoners get their brains turned into tapioca, but you three? I’ll reduce your collar size. By a good sixteen inches!”

“You don’t frighten us.” Jack, ever the brave knight, spoke up.

“Sure she does!” However, the Cheshire Cat disagreed.

“What is your problem, lady?!” And the Caterpillar didn’t seem to feel strongly one way or the other.

“Why do you have it in for Alice?” Jack interjected, barely even giving her time to formulate a response.

She didn’t owe him a response, not by a long shot. But she found herself answering anyway. “Before I laid it to ruin, the fields of this kingdom formed a chessboard.” She shrugged as she spoke again. “Where the rules state that two pieces,” She knelt down in front of Jack, focusing on him. “cannot occupy the same square at the same time. One of them must take the other.”

When she was a child, the ex-Hatter taught her how to play chess. He went over it with her multiple times so she knew the rules by heart, and he never let her win (not that she would’ve ever wanted him to do so). The first time she check-mated him, she was fifteen years old.

She thought of that now. “You’ll come to me, Alice!” She said as she rose to her feet. “I’m holding a little pawn you dare not sacrifice.” She glanced at her three prisoners. “And your friends will not be alive to help you.” That out of the way, she looked at her guards and Morris. “Prepare the prison, for a festival of executions!” Maddie made no attempt to conceal how excited she was over this. Why should she? They were on her turf now. She called the shots here.

“Don’t go to no trouble for us!” The Cheshire Cat spoke again and, for someone who’d admitted outright that she frightened him, she had to admire the lack of fear in his voice.

“Yeah, we’ll just bench press weights in the gym!” The Caterpillar’s voice, however, had taken on a shaky tone.

Jack was standing now, no longer on his knees. “Cowards die many times, Hatter. The valiant die but once.”

She turned to look at him, and with each word she spoke, she walked towards him. “You’ll find, White Knight, that once will be enough.” She said when she was right in front of him. Maddie took great pride in the brief spark of fear that seemed to light up his eyes after she said that, before raising her hand and letting them be taken away.

Facing forward again, she let herself be drawn back into how good it would feel to rule over all of Wonderland once the Queen was dead.

“I am the ending of your tragic fairytale!” She sang loudly. “You die, I thrive, and so it goes: There is no way that I can fail! I will prevail!” Feeling triumphant and better than she had in years, she turned, swirling her coat behind her in the process and headed out of the citadel.

There were a few pieces that had yet to fall into place before she could revel fully in her success.

#send a scene and i'll describe in detail how my character felt in it meme #settle down and listen up good || headcanons #long post for ts under the read more #//i'm very proud of this one tbh #//all of them but this one especially.

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benjamingarden · 7 years ago

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My Story: Building A Soap Business To Earn Six Figures In 3 Years

As promised, here's a little bit about the business we've created from the ground up. When I started Cobble Hill Farm Apothecary in 2013, it was meant to be a "someday" retirement business. With all of the other soap & skincare companies out there, we honestly had no idea that it would even be a possibility of doing as well as it did so soon. But it has, and for that we are incredibly grateful. (I purposely start with "I" and change to "we" because it truly did start as my project but very quickly became a team effort) **Just a "heads up" - I am VERY wordy so this is a lengthy post.** In The Beginning In 2013 I made a difficult decision to leave a career that I truly did enjoy. I left because although I enjoyed the career, I was no longer enjoying the company I worked for. Without going into detail, the company and I had drastically different ethical viewpoints which, by Spring of 2013, were becoming glaringly obvious. Because of the position I held in the company, not only was I aware of things I didn't agree with, but I could be held personally and/or professionally responsible for them as well. So, J and I made the decision that I should leave. I had nothing lined up, so yes, it was definitely scary. I'm not entirely sure why I decided to start a business, but one day, just a few weeks into searching for a new job, I announced that was my intention. J's hours were not consistent - he was a contractor employed by a small local company. Sometimes they worked full-time, and sometimes part-time. We had not planned on me leaving my career and, therefore, had not properly financially prepared. The good thing was our current debt situation: we had purchased a home below what we were approved for, we had no car payments, and we had no credit card debt. Because we hadn't properly prepared, it probably wasn't the best time to start a business, but, there's really never a perfect time for anything, is there? Despite all of this, J was VERY supportive and so the journey began. We knew from the get-go that we did not want to incur any debt. So everything was purchased with cash. I had some recipes I had formulated for products we were already using, but I knew I needed to formulate a few more items to start with. While I worked on product development, I also started seeking out craft shows. If you've participated in any, you know that they typically book out 6-12 months in advance. So, we didn't have a lot of choice, but we did get into a few. I also wanted to get some honest feedback from people who weren't in my circle of close friends or relatives. I asked a few fellow bloggers as well as blog followers if they would mind receiving free products and providing honest feedback. And they all agreed (thank you ladies - you helped immensely!!!). We both still remember our very first craft show (which we still participate in), the first weekend of November. We had two tables with 2 small soap boxes, a few herbal salves, a few bottles of lotion, and a selection of gift sets. I had no idea what to expect. There were 3 other handcrafted soap and skincare vendors and 2 vendors who were selling brand name soap & skincare. All had many more products than we had and much larger displays. At the end of the day, with the small amount of products that we brought, we did pretty good! We even picked up our first wholesale account. I was also selling our products in an Etsy store, which actually did very well. Keeping with the no-debt thought process, as we sold products I used the proceeds to purchase more ingredients, packaging, etc. We paid the show fees (and all related expenses - gas, food, etc.) from our personal account. Finances were tight, but we were committed to making it work. And this is how we slowly built our business from nothing. As products sold we reinvested, over and over. Our First Farmer's Market I went back to work outside of the home once the business was almost a year old. The reasons were: 1. because we needed a second income and 2. because we were determined to be without any debt with the business. Everything was (and is still) cash. Times continued to be tight because we were using our personal account to fund much of the business as we remained in the red for the first 1 1/2 years. We participated in our first farmer's market that summer. I'll use one word to describe it...... "depressing". We are so grateful for the fact that we participated though, and that alone made me remember the potential of every single experience. It was depressing because it was an incredibly slow market. There were days we made $30.00 (although after deducting gas and coffee it was a wash), and days we made just over $100.00. We did not have many larger days than that. We are grateful, however, first for the very loyal customer base we were able to build there. Although it was small, it was absolutely worthwhile. Second, we were grateful that a farmer's market manager from a much larger market (which we had been turned down by that summer) stopped by one day and suggested I apply to his market. When I told him I had but had been turned down he said "try again" and smiled. I did, and we were accepted. That was the first really big break that helped turn our little struggling business around. This has happened a few times for us - we felt like we were wasting our times with trying new shows that weren't working out financially, and instead of finding sales, we made invaluable connections. I try to always remain open to what the Universe is offering. We both distinctly remember the first few markets at this new (to us) farmer's market. We made almost $300.00 per day and we were ecstatic!! And little did we know then that would be the smallest amount we would ever make at a show or market going forward. We had also applied to many fall and winter craft shows that we were accepted to going into year #2. We received amazing feedback from customers and our sales were doubling and tripling over the year prior. We started an online store and ended up discontinuing Etsy. It became difficult to keep up with the inventory between the shows, market, Etsy, and online store. I streamlined it to just our online store for internet sales.

Growing The Business Within a year of me returning to work the business had EXPLODED and we had a decision to make. Stop the business or one of us quit our job to run it. My husband raised his hand. It made sense. My hours, although long, were consistent and his were not. So J retired from his second career (first was 20 years in the Coast Guard) to start his third career of manufacturing all of our products and managing the farm and the day-to-day. This was a big step for him. Up until now he helped (tremendously) with packaging and selling but had little to nothing to do with online sales, customer questions or manufacturing products. Isn't that how life works? While we were at one irregular income, our focus was constantly on how to get the business making money in order to stand on it's own. We were worried that it would take years. Once we stopped worrying and started actually enjoying the business, it all came together. Here's the perfect opportunity to put into perspective the (many) hours required for making and selling handcrafted products. While I was starting the business, I had ample time to formulate, create, package, and sell products. I always tried to have everything completed by the time J was home from work, or at least the formulating and/or manufacturing portion. I also devoted time to the blog (which many customers came from) as well as our Etsy and then online store. Most weekends were devoted to being at craft shows and/or farmer's markets. Once I returned to work outside of our business, I would formulate and manufacture in the evenings. I work outside of the home from 6:30a to 5p., five days a week. When I would get home I would make dinner, do dishes, and take care of the animals. Then it was time to make/package products, return emails, update the online store, package products for shipping, etc. Go to sleep, then do it all over again the next day. Weekends were again either selling at craft shows and/or farmer's markets or manufacturing, packaging, etc. Year-round. Now, with J doing almost all of the manufacturing of products, it has helped tremendously. But we still both work 7 days a week. Year-round. Trying to grow a business quickly in which you make AND sell the products takes a lot of hard work. You have to prepare yourself for it. Me working for someone else has allowed us the opportunity to continue to pour all profit back in. We've never taken any money from the business. If we had, it could still be successful, it would just take longer to get to where we're at. Same goes for hiring help or outsourcing some of the process. There's a cost associated with all of that. I'm not saying it's wrong to do, it's just not for us. Additionally, we would have to revisit some of our pricing. Overhead such as rent, employees, etc. has to be figured into your margin and it currently is not. Last year we hit six figures. SIX FIGURES!!!! Crazy, right? We spent 1 1/2 years in the red. Year 2 we were in the upper 5 figures and then we hit 6. This year, even though we've scaled back slightly, we have hit our mark again. Today So now we are again at a point of having a handful of more decisions to make. One of them was to build a new manufacturing space on our property and, as I discussed in a previous post, we have decided to move ahead with that. We are SUPER excited. The electricity, plumbing and septic was run last week. Hooray!!! In the spring the existing building will be gutted and rebuilt. This brings up the question as to why it wasn't moved out of our home sooner. The answer is one word...... Overhead. We are purposely trying to keep our overhead as low as possible. Would we love to manufacture out of another space? Yup. Could we afford to rent a space? Yup. But it would be overhead. Money that has to be made and paid every single month. We are lucky that we have the space on our property to convert. We waited until it made financial sense to do it and that time has come. We will not have any monthly payments associated with it which is a relief for us. I have only ever advertised our business on a couple of other blogs in addition to our blog. Our sales outlets continue to be our online store, local craft shows, and farmer's markets. Although we do have a handful of wholesale accounts, we have purposely not ventured into this arena as of yet. For really one main reason: No time to keep up. Remember, wholesale doesn't have the same margin as retail since you're selling your products for half price. So you ask, why haven't you left your job to work at your business? It's a fair question. We are both very conservative people and we wanted to make sure the money we were making wasn't a fluke. I am back to working back in human resources and am really enjoying it, which certainly makes it much easier to hold off. We also really wanted to continue to grow the business which we could only do as quickly by putting money back in. And, of course, we want to remain debt-free. I know the hours we currently work are not sustainable, but the new manufacturing space (with all new, much larger, equipment) will help out tremendously. Tomorrow We certainly have dreams of where we hope this adventure will lead us. We dream of a much larger farm on a property that will enable us to have a home at one end, and a manufacturing/retail space at the other. We'd like to have goats, sheep, chickens, and a few rescue farm animals. Allowing customers on the property to see the animals, watch the manufacturing of products, and shop at our very own store is exactly what we wish for. I have a ton of ideas on a to-do wishlist including a few products to develop, as well as ebooks or courses on starting a home-based business, selling at craft fairs and farmer's markets, and possibly, a soap & skincare business course. I also would like to refine a few things within our current product packaging. Someday....... One thing is for sure. Without the amazing support of my husband (financially, emotionally, as well as his willingness to help with everything within the business) it would have been incredibly hard. I'm sure one person can do this on their own, but I can't imagine growing the business the way we have with just one of us. Certainly having a single income, that's not related to the start-up business, is the easiest way to get off on the right foot. Having a limited amount of debt when you do reduce to one income is a huge benefit as well. If you can do it, despite the very long nights and very few days off, starting your own business really is worth it. My next post will be a few of the lessons learned and things to consider really for any business primarily selling at craft shows and/or farmer's markets, not just soap & skincare companies.

My Story: Building A Soap Business To Earn Six Figures In 3 Years was originally posted by My Favorite Chicken Blogs(benjamingardening)

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benjamingarden · 7 years ago

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My Story: Building A Soap Business To Earn Six Figures In 3 Years

My Story: Building A Soap Business To Earn Six Figures In 3 Years was originally posted by My Favorite Chicken Blogs(benjamingardening)

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