#Smarter writing

[magicandmundane]

Something something Clone Force 99 breaking binders in every season finale

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

“So, babysitting?”

Alberu follows after the delinquent. From the record the vice-principal gave him access to, Cale frequently drinks alcohol, he often gets himself into a lot of fights, and he barely passed his classes at the end of the grading period. The teachers never call on him in class, girls and boys avoid him alike, and he is- supposedly- completely intolerable.

Which is why Alberu Crossman, who’s only a little older yet infinitely more mature has been assigned by the principal (his father) to get the troublemaker under thumb. Cale's father is quite wealthy, actually, and since there isn't much known about the successor to the Henituse family... it'd be bad if he had to be expelled.

Cale scowled. “Yes, babysitting, your highness. Please, leave if you must,” He jeers at Alberu, but internally he thinks, 'No, really. Please leave.' Otherwise, he might get caught in the act.

Of not actually being Cale.

Roksu aims a sour expression at Alberu, who returns it with a more flowery one. Acting as his twin for the day had been easy enough, mainly because being trash is great!- until Alberu Crossman strolled into his lunch period and introduced himself.

He is even following him out of the school to his job. Well, this job is Roksu’s and not Cale’s, but because he can’t ditch work nor can he get glib-tongued Alberu off his tail-

Well shit.

Thankfully, the kids call him hyung. Except Raon, who calls him human. Hopefully Alberu doesn’t look into it too much. If everything goes right, Alberu Crossman will be Cale's problem to deal with tomorrow. As it should have been.

“I didn’t know you liked kids, Cale,” Alberu smiles charmingly, walking side by side with Roksu. “Can you introduce me?” Roksu struggles to not put on his own disarming smile out of spite, instead plastering on a classic Cale Sneer™. It fits on his face perfectly, like he’s playing a character in a play.

They enter the building and ‘Cale’ guides Alberu to a colorful playroom, decked out in toys and a fountain of running water as the centerpiece (A gift from his father, who is still upset that Roksu doesn't visit more often). There’s a tray of fruits and oatmeal on the small table in the corner of the room, except not a soul to be seen. Picking up a bowl of oatmeal and finding the ceramic to still be hot, Roksu almost smiles.

Alberu frowns. Where are the kids he's supposed to babysit?

Roksu tells the empty air, "Come on out."

Three children appear out of nowhere in front of them.

“Hyung!”

“Human! You’re back!”

“Hyung, nya.” On examines Alberu some more.

All of the kids had been revealed the moment that Roksu spoke, as Raon unveiled the invisibility on them.

Raon runs up and grabs Roksu’s hand, who places it on his head, rubbing the black hair comfortingly. “Mm.” Raon beams at the affection.

“Raon, On, Hong,” they each look up at him at the call of their names. “This is Alberu Crossman, he is doing a report on my trashy behavior. Don’t be rude."

All three children become hostile immediately. “He isn't trash!”

On observes Alberu with an intense glare. Raon shifts under Roksu’s hand, his deep blue eyes glinting with magic. Roksu positions him away from the older teen’s view. Raon grips onto Roksu’s pant leg with a vengeance. Hong stares openly, offensive.

Alberu smiles at them.

"I'm visiting with Cale Hyung for today, nice to meet you."

Hong gasps suddenly.

“He-!” On gives her brother a look, and he clamps his hands over his mouth. Alberu feels a deep curiosity, as if something isn’t quite as it seems.

Roksu sighs. It’s going to be a long hour.

At the midway point, Alberu has easily disarmed the children. They look fascinated at the magic he shows them, while Roksu can only rub a palm over Raon’s shoulder as a warning to keep his dragon magic under control. He's still just a child that wants to brag. Everything is going well.

Bang!

“Hey Roksu! How was-“ Cale bursts through the door, bright red hair equipped with a shit-eating grin, wearing clothes far less fancy than his usual. He tenses up, frozen in place when he spots Alberu on the floor, politely sitting "crisscross applesauce" with the children. Roksu narrows a withering glare at his twin.

“… Roksu?”

Alberu looks at ‘Cale,’ sitting next to him, the one he's spent the entire day with, who is trying to send what must be the real Cale into the sun with his eyes.

“Ha… ha?” Cale winces. Roksu wipes his expression from his face.

“Cale-hyung, run! That’s the human’s bad look!” Alberu’s eyes widen as he watches the confirmed real Cale bolt back into the hallway and out of the front door. Alberu whips his head back toward the stranger behind him, who is a perfect replica of the Cale who ran like Hell. Cale has an identical twin?? Since when? Why doesn't he go to school?

Roksu levels an emotionless gaze at Alberu. “Hello, your highness. Don’t mind me.”

Alberu can only watch in astonishment as this stranger walks out of the playroom, with a smooth and deadly gait as he hunts down his twin like a predator would to prey. He recalls the look 'Roksu' gave him and it sends a shiver down the principal’s son’s spine. That gaze held secrets.

Something about this stranger is even more interesting than the sudden appearance of a twin.

On walks up to him, sitting down in his lap and looking into his eyes. “Roksu-hyung will be back soon, nya!” Hong bounds over and sits next to his sister, grinning widely. Raon huffs and looks at the door. He wants his human to come back.

[antiqua-lugar]

aside from everything else about durgewyll I am loving how it highlights wyll and gortash as narrative foils. both their upbringings lead them to interact with demoniac entities, both can only become archdukes and join baldurian high society through uldred, both are swaying the dark urge from simply following bhaal (and arguably the dark urge sways them from simply pursuing an ideal and the dark urge can recognise both as their equal)

and by playing your card right in act 3 wyll just...gets everything gortash was trying to get? wyll really is a hero saving baldur's gate from the legion of the absolute. wyll influences gortash's favourite assassin into becoming someone they can defeat the netehrbrain together. they can even become archdukes together! ...or they can turn it down and then they can go to he hells to sneak around and have adventures (like gortash and durge used to) and save karlach's life (the same life that is at risk because gortash mindlessly threw it away).

like. it's a lot, wyll and durge can even murder raphael.

[taylortruther]

i think the songs on the album will be utterly earnest and personal, but it is so interesting that she's juxtaposing the supposed authenticity of the "tortured poet" (the idea that to be artistic you must be dark, tortured, etc and your work must reflect that in a specific way, or you're not considered a real artist, maybe even a sellout, a shill) with "department," a concept that implies administration or detachment, a mere method of organization. as if the act of creating "tortured art" has been catalogued, maybe even commodified or turned routine. like, even the way she presents her art, her truth, as "evidence"... the way her songs about her life are organized and labeled as "artifacts," even though they are intimate and personal. there's just a few layers of irony here that i'm really excited for, and that addresses so much of discourse around her artistry, life, and mythology.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #82

Harley Quinn and Bruce Wayne accidentally have a one night stand after Harley is reformed. Harley gets pregnant but hides it, she can’t let anyone know about this. She gives him up for adoption and doesn’t tell Bruce. She can’t risk this getting back to the Joker who would definitely target the boy. Joker would definitely use her son against her, he’d be furious. so she gives Danny up for adoption. Who knew the Fentons were the wrong people to let adopt.

16 years go by and Harley begins to regret her choices and she decides to visit the home. She heard their eldest daughter Jasmine was getting into psychology and she’d figured she’d give her some pointers especially since they were kind of family. What she didn’t expect was for the Fenton Parents torturing and Vivisecting a ghost in their basement. Harley doesn’t know who this ghost Phantom is but she’s getting him out of their.

Danny finally comes too after the rescue to Harley Quinn of all people. He knows she’s reformed but he’s still cautious.

[judyalvqrez]

Lately I’ve been obsessed with how feral and animalistic Scratch (and by extension the Dark Presence) is portrayed in Alan Wake 2. In the past Alan has said that it’s hard to personify the Dark Presence because its behaviors and motivations go beyond what human psychology and emotions can express, but it’s interesting to me that some behaviors and emotions usually associated with feral animals like wolves seem to fit this version of the Dark Presence/Scratch better. In the same way Alan is the owl and Saga is the deer, Scratch is the wolf. I mean, he constantly bares his teeth and growls. In the Dark Place the Dark Presence hunts Alan, while in the real world Scratch hunts Saga, both stalking their prey. Saga also gets repeatedly attacked by shadow wolves, who at one point kill a deer when she solves a nursery rhyme. And I absolutely love how the old saying about how animals are most dangerous when they’re cornered and/or wounded can be applied to Scratch in multiple situations, but especially when the Cult of the Tree attacks the lodge. At that point the Dark Presence was still weak from joining with Alan, but now they’re under attack, Casey is gone, and cultists are coming to kill them. Even though we don't actually see it and Alan doesn’t remember, it’s obvious Scratch managed to come out. And Scratch doesn’t just kill the cultists, but fucking rips them apart, judging by the piles of bodies and gore and hanging entrails. Don’t even get me started on The Bad Boy in Number One Fan, where they practically take the wolf motif and beat us over the head with it all under the guise of funny jokes and fanfiction tropes. 

As much as I love the old portrayal of Scratch in AWAN, this much darker and feral version of Scratch is just so fascinating to me. Anyway, TLDR:

[tremendously-crazy]

Relationship envy except I envy the bond between iconic fictional characters Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson

[birchlogz]

[frobby]

I think it would be really funny if rin was the more helpful one around his house. Like u would think rin would be the disrespectful one who always bails on housework or mass but its actually yukio who would always have an excuse not to go or forget about chores to the point that rin just does them instinctively now

[fatuismooches]

Imagine Dottore comforting you after a bad experience in school.

You would have just finished something you've worked very hard on, something you were genuinely interested in too, perhaps a project or essay or anything in between. You were up late, pouring all of your energy into your research to create the best result you possibly could. And yet, you could never stay awake longer than Zandik, who finally realized what you meant when you always complained about how stubborn he was about sleeping since he was met with the same stubbornness from you in these moments. Still, he was quite impressed with your dedication to your work. Though he may not share the same interests as you always, may have even found some of them frivolous at first, he can respect your passion for them.

You would frequently stress over it and fret over everything, which Zandik was slightly exasperated at because you're the most competent person he knows in the whole Akademiya. You don't need to be so doubtful of yourself, he knows you very well and is confident in your intelligence. But of course, he'll edit and read over your work when you beg him to, unsurprisingly it's able to keep his attention unlike much of his peers' work. You would thank him for all of his help, but he would only chide you for that, since you were being far too modest as you were the one who did all the work. He has no worries about your grade, having the utmost confidence, hell, his picky self approved it. That lessened your anxiety a lot as you waited for the verdict.

Unfortunately, it turns out to be the opposite. See, Zandik is no stranger to his work being ignored and ridiculed as well, which he's gotten used to at this point, (though you've become the one person who's always willing to listen) but it still infuriates him to see others at the Akademiya not take you seriously. Zandik's hands feel out of place and unusual holding you as you weep into his chest, but it seems to make you feel a bit better so he doesn't protest. He lets you cry about how rude the professor was for no reason. About how it feels like everything you've worked and studied for has been diminished. How it hurts to have such hard work reduced to nothing.

There's only so much comfort Zandik can provide with his body in this situation, so he does what he does best - hard, indisputable facts. His view of you and your intelligence is very set in stone. He won't let anyone convince him or you to think differently, and he tells you to ignore all others who disagree. He sees how hard you work even if others have the gall to deny it, and that your work will always reflect that nature of yours. And he, for one, will always be willing to listen and appreciate, just as you do for him. He sees what a fascinating mind you have, and that will always be more than enough for him.

[yellowocaballero]

Naruto Roleswap AU: Kakashi's a wifeguy, Rin's a Girlboss, and Itachi gets adopted

“Do you think we’re the baddies?”

The Mizukage’s pen froze on her paperwork. She looked up and squinted at Kakashi, as if attempting valiantly to discern his twisted mind and failing utterly. “‘Baddies’?”

“You know,” Kakashi elaborated, “the bad guys. The bullies. People who enjoy indiscriminately murdering, maiming, genocide, the works.” 

The Mizukage looked appalled. “Of course we aren’t. Where did you get that idea?” Kakashi shrugged limply. “We’re working for world peace, Kakashi. Of course we’re the good guys. What else would we be?”

Kakashi scratched at his neck. “Do traditional definitions of world peace include putting the world under a mass genjutsu? Or destabilizing foreign governments?”

“We did those governments a favor,” the Mizukage said frankly. “Kiri’s prospering. And mass genjutsu is the only way to keep people from killing each other. Honestly, Kakashi, if there’s one good guy in the world then it’s us.”

“I thought that was Yahiko.”

“Us and Yahiko,” the Mizukage amended. She thought for a second. “And Tobi, of course.” She thought harder. “No, it’s unfair to put us on the same level as Yahiko and Tobi.”

“So we are the baddies.”

Kakashi and his girlfriend are in the market to adopt, and the Akatsuki is a great place to raise two rambunctious children. The consent of the children isn't neccesary for this. Oneesama knows best, and if you trust in the process then a beautiful utopia can become possible. Or, alternatively, if you don't care about the process or how many atrocities you commit, then you can put off killing yourself from sheer boredom for a few more years.

Tragedy plus time equals a comedy, and you can believe anything if you have no other choice.

This one's very different tonally from the rest of the AU, but that's what I like about it. I ended up really loving writing Kakashi, and I'll have to find the exuse to write more of this funny narration in the future. Parts of this crossover with the previous installment of this AU, and they're very much intended to be read side by side. The good guys sitting around sobbing from despair as the bad guys have yakety sax hijinks was very funny to me. 7k of Kakashi's Crippling Depression Adventures In The Akatsuki under the cut.

“Do you think we’re the baddies?”

The Mizukage’s pen froze on her paperwork. She looked up and squinted at Kakashi, as if attempting valiantly to discern his twisted mind and failing utterly. “‘Baddies’?”

“You know,” Kakashi elaborated, “the bad guys. The bullies. People who enjoy indiscriminately murdering, maiming, genocide, the works.” 

The Mizukage looked appalled. “Of course we aren’t. Where did you get that idea?” Kakashi shrugged limply. “We’re working for world peace, Kakashi. Of course we’re the good guys. What else would we be?”

Kakashi scratched at his neck. “Do traditional definitions of world peace include putting the world under a mass genjutsu? Or destabilizing foreign governments?”

“We did those governments a favor,” the Mizukage said frankly. “Kiri’s prospering. And mass genjutsu is the only way to keep people from killing each other. Honestly, Kakashi, if there’s one good guy in the world then it’s us.”

“I thought that was Yahiko.”

“Us and Yahiko,” the Mizukage amended. She thought for a second. “And Tobi, of course.” She thought harder. “No, it’s unfair to put us on the same level as Yahiko and Tobi.”

“So we are the baddies.”

“We’ve made some compromises,” the leader of the violent coup that overthrew Hanzo and made her a dictator of a hidden village allowed. “But anything’s worth it if it keeps the world safe, right?”

“Hm,” Kakashi said, contemplating the Kyuubi’s attack on the village and the Minato/Kushina dual murders. “Well, can’t argue with that.” 

“What a silly conversation.” The Mizukage went back to her paperwork, signing away at form after form. How she found the time to lead a village and shadow-lead the Akatsuki, Kakashi had no idea. Maybe she just didn’t need to sleep as often as the mere mortals. Jinchuuriki were so unfair. “Now, can you do me a favor and go pick up the baby ninja we manipulated into mass-murdering his family? He’s probably very stressed out right now, he could use some comfort.”

“I’ll drop him off with Konan.” Kakashi paused, then amended, “Yahiko.”

“Sounds great. Love you, Kakashi.”

Kakashi halted at the window, pulling his ceramic mask over his face. “Love you too, Rin.”

And, as Rin would proclaim: could you really be the baddie if you loved someone?

*

Truthfully, Itachi had barely left Konoha.

The kid had been locked in a permanent dissociative daze since he started his little genocidal adventure and it hadn’t quite lifted. He had clearly found an inn in the closest city on autopilot, paid for it via the multiple stab wounds and bloody cloak, and passed out. He had the presence of mind to perform basic first aid on himself, which was probably the only reason his wounds weren’t grievously infected. He was also pretty strung out, and clearly hadn’t slept in five days. In short, the kid had an altogether pathetic vibe to him. Kakashi would sympathize if he was the type.

Kakashi knocked on the door to Itachi’s room. He waited a polite thirty seconds before knocking again. Then he teleported the door into Kamui - he always made a little ‘yoink!’ sound effect in his head - and walked into the room. 

Itachi’s attempt at stabbing him was, frankly, tragic. The Uchiha must have been half grannies. Kakashi blocked the blow with his sheathed tanto, exquisitely bored, before pushing the boy backwards. Itachi turned his stumble into a flip and landed on the bed, already charging another fire jutsu in his hands. Some people really were overachievers. 

Kakashi sheathed his tanto and lazily raised both hands. “Is this how you welcome your friends, Itachi-kun?”

Itachi’s face was bone white, and his entire body was shaking. His first aid attempts were lacking. He needed a doctor badly. It was a testament to the sheer dissociative power of his insane little mind that he was conscious at all. “I have no friends.”

Objectively true statement. Kid caught on fast. “You have me, if that counts for anything.” Judging by Itachi’s murder eyes, it did not. “I’m a representative of an organization that’s interested in recruiting you. Why don’t you hear us out?”

“You know what I just did,” Itachi said dully. “No organization I should join would have me as a member. I’m uninterested. Leave.”

“Maa, that’s too bad.” Kakashi scratched at his neck, jostling his ceramic mask. “You don’t want to see your friend again? What was his name - Shisui Uchiha?”

Itachi froze. The fire jutsu flared upwards, and his Sharingan began to spin. 

“Relax, we didn’t kidnap him. We rescued him. Like we’re interested in rescuing you.” Kakashi held out his hand, tilting his head. “Nobody in this world will help you now, Itachi-kun. Nobody but us. We will help you.”

Itachi pulled backwards, mouth thinning, but Kakashi could see it. He knew how Itachi wanted to lean in. He was thirteen years old and his parents were dead. Never mind the details. “Will you take me to Shisui?”

“Sure. We got the best doctor in the continent too.”

The conclusion was foregone. Itachi had no other choice. He was alone, and he was dying, and he didn’t care if he died. People like that always took the first hand that came along. It was the best time to nab people: when they were at their most vulnerable, their most susceptible, their most trusting. Ask Kakashi how he knew. Better yet - don’t. 

Itachi took Kakashi’s hand, and he teleported them both away. 

*

Akatsuki HQ was nice digs. 

For Ame. By the standards of anywhere that wasn’t Ame, it was the dreariest yet most nondescript building anybody had ever seen. The sky was always dark grey and the clouds were always pouring rain. The buildings had a pre-fab brutalist flair and you could always count on some ominous lightning to provide atmosphere. Ame permanently felt like the setting of a horror movie. Seeing as Kakashi’s life was a horror movie, it had to feel a little appropriate. 

But Yahiko brought the sunshine. Wherever he went was all good weather. Shaking his hand made you feel as if the sun was shining, and when he entered a room he brought blue skies. It was like the rain didn’t even pour on it. He reminded Kakashi of Tobi’s best friend, which was the most back-handed compliment you could give a person. 

The major difference between the two was that everybody liked Yahiko. Ame had one political party and it was the cult of Yahiko. Konan would blow up a small village for him. Even Rin waved her M/F/M/F polycule books in his face and gave him significant eyebrows. If Rin died overnight, he was their best hope for world peace. No genjutsu necessary - just sheer force of personality and beautiful vibes.

Personally, Kakashi just liked how easy he was to manipulate.

“Konoha made him do what?” Yahiko gasped. “Those bastards! They call themselves the nice village?”

Kakashi shrugged. “What can I say. We defected for a reason.” 

“That’s disgusting. They’d make a thirteen year old do that to his own family? He’s a child!” Yahiko chewed at his thumbnail, thinking furiously. “Even Kiri at its worst never forced its children to cleanse their own bloodline! After what they did to your teammate, too…maybe it’s just something about those Uchihas.”

“Guess we don’t have to worry about them anymore,” Kakashi said diplomatically. 

They were waiting in the hallway outside of Itachi’s operating room. Yahiko had done the absolute predictable and called Rin the second he saw Kakashi lugging a half-dead teenager into his HQ. She flew in like an angel and descended on the poor child in her infinite grace, earning Yahiko’s eternal gratefulness for her beneficence upon the infant he had met five seconds ago and loved as if he was his own. What could Kakashi say? Some people were heavenly spirits walking the earth. 

“We can bring him into Ame for sure,” Yahiko said, truly fired up. Kakashi hadn’t even asked? “I’ve invented this new thing, I’ve tentatively named it therapy no jutsu, and I think Itachi-kun would be a perfect early adopter. I have this dream, right, that we can take insane people and make them less insane -”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Kakashi lied. Spirits above, what a freak. “Why don’t you go get Itachi’s new citizenship settled out? My partner and I will catch him up to speed.”

“Good idea. I’m not doing much just loitering around like this.” Yahiko nodded professionally at him, and Kakashi bowed back. As always, Yahiko ruined any sense of propriety with a bright smile. “Then we’ll finally go on that double date, right? Rin-sama and I have been trying to find a time that works with our schedules for ages. We’re thinking that seafood place near the harbor.”

No. The double date was not happening. The double date would never happen. Because Kakashi knew full well what Rin and Konan were angling for and he was not going along with it. Even if Yahiko and Konan were admittedly kinda - 

The door opened, saving Kakashi from a train of thought even worse than the denial. Rin poked her head out, sweaty but fresh and smiling. Yahiko immediately smiled at her, and she smiled happily back at him. Like Kakashi, she was dressed down in her Akatsuki gear. She didn’t wear a mask in her Mizukage or her Akatsuki get-up, but at Akatsuki HQ she tended to pass herself off as an unassuming household medic. After all this time, Rin was still excellent at playing innocent. 

“Itachi-kun’s well enough to receive visitors,” Rin said cheerfully. “Do you want to meet him, Yahiko-sama?” 

Yahiko pumped his fist, grinning. “Yeah! We’ll give him a real Akatsuki welcome!”

As it turned out, a ‘real Akatsuki welcome’ involved mochi. Itachi stared at it, flabbergasted. He still looked pale, but Kakashi could tell that Rin had done her usual excellent job - his body seemed to be free of injuries, and he probably felt like a spring chicken. She had moved him from the ominous operating room (never there for a good reason; bad vibes) into the infirmary (worse than the operating room because you were generally awake to experience it; atrocious vibes)

“I’m so sorry to hear about your family, Itachi-kun,” Yahiko said firmly, shoving the mochi at Itachi. Itachi blinked at it, somehow violently. Rin sympathetically took the box and placed it at his bedside. “We know how hard losing your family can be.”

Itachi stared at Yahiko for a long second. Finally, he rasped, “I killed my family.” 

“Konoha forced you to kill your family,” Yahiko corrected. “It’s hardly your fault, Itachi-kun. You were manipulated. You can’t ever forget who your real enemies are.”

“Or your real friends,” Rin said gently. She sat down next to Itachi, blasting her best ‘soft and motherly’ smile at him full throttle. “You can call me Rin-san, Itachi-kun. The man in the mask is my partner Hound, and the ray of sunshine over there is the leader of Ame, Yahiko-sama. If I know him correctly, I can guess he already has a proposition for you.” 

Itachi immediately shook his head, pushing himself fully upright. “I’m not interested in any -”

Rin put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back down. Itachi fell back onto the bed, shocked by the force. “Just hear us out.” 

Itachi’s eyes flickered to Kakashi. He undoubtedly recognized him, Hound mask or clean faced. Kakashi winked at him. Itachi’s eyebrows tilted. Long experience with Uchihas helped him interpret the gesture. Kakashi held up one finger. Patience. 

“You’re welcome to live in Ame if you want, Itachi-kun. We’ll protect you. But I have another proposal for you.” Wow. Wonder what that would be. It couldn’t possibly be the same proposal Rin had been hinting at ever since Kakashi lugged Itachi’s sorry ass back to the village. “Are you a pacifist, Itachi-kun?”

Itachi was silent. His eyebrows screamed - ‘I killed my family!’.

Amazingly, Yahiko was able to interpret that. Must be Konan’s influence. She was a stoic one. And somewhat surly. “Only those who’ve experienced the worst violence know the value of true peace. Those of us who truly seek peace and prosperity have all experienced the worst of humanity. Your experiences are why I think you can become a pacifist who can protect your precious people. That can become the purpose of your life.”

It was abundantly clear that Itachi did not give a single fuck about any sort of philosophy right now. The second Rin removed her hand he forced himself upright again, and he ignored her danger eyebrows. One was only foolish enough to ignore those once, Itachi. “Where’s Shisui.”

Yahiko glanced at Rin, frowning lightly. “Do you know who that is?”

“Remember the half-dead kid Hound fished from the river?” Rin said cheerfully. Yahiko made a noise of comprehension. “Apparently he’s a Uchiha too. He faked his death before the massacre. He’s the reason why Hound investigated the massacre at all. He’s been in a coma since we rescued him. He didn’t have to work very hard to fake his death - he was very badly hurt.” She looked down at Itachi, who was pale with shock. “Would you like to see him? He’s in the long-term infirmary in the other room.”

Dumbly, Itachi nodded. Kakashi silently tallied up the lies and omissions of truth in those sentences. Nowhere near her best, but not nothing. 

“Then I’ll get somebody on Itachi-kun’s citizenship paperwork.” Yahiko jokingly half-saluted, which was a terrible look on a leader of a city state. “I’ll put Itachi-kun’s future in your capable hands, Rin-sama.”

Rin smiled gently at Yahiko. “There’s nothing I value more.”

They waited until Yahiko had left the room and his chakra signature had long since retreated before Rin spoke again. Itachi was looking increasingly wild, and when he forced himself to stand up Rin didn’t stop him. She just rose with him, carefully straightening the infirmary bed behind him. 

“Yahiko-sama truly is one of the kindest people I know,” Rin said to Itachi. He still looked a little flabbergasted by the welcome. It was all in the eyebrows. “You’ll see things our way. Everybody does eventually.”

“Darling, let’s save talk like that for after the recruitment.”

“What did I say?” Rin asked, for all appearances genuinely surprised. “Isn’t it a good thing that people agree with us?”

Yes, after the - let’s count it, the military coups, manipulations, genjutsus, etc, etc…

“Can’t argue with that,” Kakashi said blandly. 

Itachi brushed past them both and walked towards the long-term infirmary door, opening it immediately and walking inside. Guess they had been too busy teaching this kid how to kill people instead of any manners.

Atrociously, Rin crossed her arms and sighed fondly. “He really reminds you of him, huh?”

“If I remember correctly, that seems to be the whole problem.” Kakashi shot Rin a canny look, who looked innocently up at the ceiling. “No adoption.”

“You’re always saying some needy orphan will come our way! He’s the definition of a needy orphan, isn’t he?”

“Darling, he killed his parents.”

Frankly, Rin said, “He’s not special.”

True but very unwelcome sentence. As usual.

Rin was good on her promises, as always. Shisui was the sole inhabitant of the long-term infirmary, hooked up to a few monitors but otherwise sleeping peacefully. He seemed completely cured of his extensive injuries. His face was flush with color and both of his eyes were intact. A testament to Rin’s skill - he had been found gripping one eye in a chakra-infused bubble. But she had some practice with fucked up Sharingan transplants. It had taken years before she figured out how to undo Madara’s patchwork job and re-implanted Kakashi’s eye with a functional chakra network. 

Itachi was already at Shisui’s bedside. The kid had his Sharingan activated, scanning his body for injuries and finding none. Kakashi idly wondered whose Mangeyko was stronger. Itachi probably beat him out by virtue of having two and his ability to summon Susanoo, but kamui was a far more useful skill than Amaterasu or some lame torture dimension. As always, Obito was the best. Or he would be, if he was intact.

“He’s healthy.” Again, only long experience with Obito gave Kakashi the ability to interpret his frustration. “Why is he still asleep.”

“Oh, that’s all me,” Rin said cheerfully. “The coma is artificially induced.”

In the course of a millisecond, Itachi’s kunai were flying. Kakashi was faster. He opened up kamui and swallowed up the kunai. Itachi paused half a second, stunned and confused. It was more than enough time for Kakashi to press his own kunai to Itachi’s neck, standing behind Itachi with his other arm looped over his neck.

“You aren’t irreplaceable, Itachi,” Kakashi panned. “There’s a spare. Right?”

Itachi froze. Rin titled her eyebrows at Kakashi, relentlessly good cop’ing. “Let’s not threaten our new recruit, Hound. Let’s all put the kunai away and talk like civilized ninjas, huh?”

 Seeing as Itachi’s kunai had been warped to the Box Dimension (Feat. Box, Guest Starring Box), the comment had been directed at him. Kakashi stepped away from Itachi, making a show of putting away his kunai and returning to Rin’s side. More than one person had remarked how accurate his codename was. Got funnier each time. Not. 

“Here’s the shakedown, Itachi-kun. Listen closely.” Rin sat down at Shisui’s bedside, graceful and refined. “You’re alone in the world. Yes or no?”

Itachi, standing at the opposite side of Shisui’s bed, stared at her in hostility. 

“You’re a missing nin. You’re probably already in the Bingo Book with an SSS class bounty on your head. Yes or yes?”

Itachi was silent.

“It must be scary. But Konoha’s still backing you, isn’t it?” Rin hid a smile behind a hand. “You’ve been instructed to act as a spy when necessary. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were even asked to infiltrate our organization in a few years. Yes?”

Itachi was silent. He was thirteen, and he was scared.

“They’re still relying on your naivete, Itachi. After everything they’ve asked of you they still want more. They will ask for more, and more, and more. Until they ask for your death. And you intend on giving it to them, don’t you?” Rin shook her head, tsk’ing. “What a waste. The good you can do…the peace you can bring, the people you can help…the reason why you’re a genius in the first place. You’ll never realize it. You could have truly helped people, and you let the evil people use you for evil instead. It’s unfair.”

Itachi looked away, jaw clenching. He was thirteen, and he was insecure. 

Rin leaned forward, eyes arresting Itachi in place. He could not know why they felt so powerful, why Rin’s sheer presence carried such incredible weight. Maybe the weight would feel like the weight of her words - powerful, affecting, true. 

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” Rin said gently. “Spend some time here. Recover from your ordeal. Get some rest. You can make your decision when you’re ready, alright?”

And Yahiko said that he had invented therapy-no-jutsu. Rin was the undisputed master. 

Itachi looked down at Shisui. He could have been sleeping. But Kakashi knew what Itachi was seeing: his best friend killing himself, falling into the river. His pleading not to listen to Danzo. Ineffectual, in the end. Perhaps this was destiny. 

Maybe the Uchiha were always in a state of dying, died, dead. Maybe they would continuously live out this immortal cycle of fatality. Chained by their hatred. Imprisoned by their love. It was the sickest combination of all. Kakashi would know.

“Why are you keeping him in a coma?” Itachi rasped. “What do you want?”

Wow, two question marks from him. New record. Rin’s eyes flickered to Kakashi, and he took his cue. Blandly, he said, “No offense, but you have a history of double crossing. We wanted some insurance. You don’t sell us out to Konoha and we take good care of your bestie. Fair trade.”

Itachi’s expression darkened. “You’re blackmailing me.”

“If we were blackmailing you, we’d be making you join us now.” Kakashi shrugged one shoulder. “We want you to make a choice. We’re just taking care of Shisui-kun until you do.”

And, in the end, Itachi didn’t hesitate. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe it always would be. Five days of no sleep and a Uchiha’s love and a ninja’s tendency to choose violence first - shaken and stirred, you ended up with a dangerously impulsive thirteen year old. The importance of the thirteen year old aspect here really couldn’t be understated. 

“I’ll join,” Itachi said immediately. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just wake up Shisui.”

Hilariously, Rin looked crestfallen. “We aren’t trying to blackmail you, Itachi-kun. A mission of peace and goodness can’t start on a bedrock of pain. How about you take some time and -”

“I don’t care.” Wow. Nobody interrupted Rin anymore. “I don’t care about anything anymore. I will kill whoever you want. I will be whatever you want. Wake him up.”

Rin pressed her hands to her cheeks, sighing. “Oh, you are just too cute! You’re like a little copy of Hound! Hound, don’t you see why -”

“This is a bad start to that sort of relationship.”

“Oh, what does that matter!”

A lot, Rin. It mattered a lot.

Meanwhile, Itachi was looking increasingly frustrated (eyebrows at 20 degree angle instead of 15). “Wake him up.”

Wow. That was dangerously close to an inflection. Rin just tilted her head, affecting a somewhat thoughtful look. “I don’t think I will, actually.” Itachi’s face did a dangerous thing. “Calm down. Let’s say…in a month? That seems fair.”

Itachi clenched his jaw. What could he say? It was either Shisui waking up in a month or not at all. If Rin wanted to stretch this out for half a year, she could. Goodness knows she could keep Itachi on the hook for that long. Under other circumstances she would probably do it. But keeping Shunshin no Shisui off the board for that long was a stupid move. Privately, Kakashi thought he might be a bit of a wild card. Shisui was even more idiotically loyal to his village than Itachi. He definitely loved his family more, and he might have beef about the clan genocide thing. They couldn’t exactly genjutsu him into submission. But Rin was confident in her ability to control him - sorry, ‘recruit him’ - and Kakashi would always follow her lead.

“Why.”

Rin affected a look of surprise. “Didn’t your parents ever punish you? Maybe you were an obedient boy, but I hear the Uchiha have a ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ philosophy.”

Yeah, Obito had been beaten by his Uchiha mentors regularly. Team Minato all knew and none of them talked about it. Much later, Rin told him that Minato had tried speaking to Obito’s family about it and had gotten royally shut down. Rin always healed him in silence, and Kakashi already read out passages from his mystery novels that were guaranteed to drive Obito insane with their stupidity. 

Tobi cried when people yelled at him. Surprise, surprise. 

“You are not my parents,” Itachi said harshly. Not if Rin had anything to say about it. “You look twenty three. Do not play pretend.”

“Wow,” Kakashi said. “That was so accurate. The white hair always throws people off.”

Rin just looked a little crushed. “I guess onee-sama’s alright for now.”

“What did I do.”

For the first time, Rin sobered. She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, and brought the full force of her deceptive brown eyes down upon Itachi. He probably wasn’t used to such power anymore. He couldn’t possibly identify it. Kakashi wondered idly if Rin was scarier than Danzo. Damn, he hoped so. If she wasn’t…well, he’d learn.

Crisply, Rin said, “You were given explicit instructions not to hurt Obito Uchiha.”

It was clearly not what Itachi expected to hear. His eyebrows furrowed minutely. “How did you know that.”

“How did we know about the true nature of the massacre at all?” Rin asked rhetorically, dodging the question. “You were told to use Tsukuyomi to place him under a non-tortuous genjutsu. You ended up fighting him. I saw his injuries.” Left unsaid: yeah, and they had seen Itachi’s injuries too. Only half of them were from killing 200 plus people. The other half was from one extremely angry guy. “It was against instructions.”

“Your instructions?” Itachi asked sharply. “What -”

“Of course not,” Rin blatantly lied. “Many people are interested in keeping Obito Uchiha intact. You shouldn’t have touched him.”

“He broke out of the Tsukuyomi. It should have been impossible.” Itachi frowned lightly. “Sparing Sasuke is explainable. It would have been suspicious if I had left Tobi untouched.”

“A lack of injuries could have been explained as a complete avoidance of a fight. Injuries implied that he fought you and won. It’s more suspicious.” Left unsaid: Rin had been harvesting a shitton of eyes and swooped in at the last minute to heal his injuries before anybody noticed. Entirely possible that Obito thought the entire fight was one awful dream. Sure as hell had repressed way more minor shit. 

“It should have been impossible to break free of the Tsukuyomi,” Itachi repeated. “He possessed the Mangekyo and an arm that could imitate the Mokuton. That should have also been impossible. I came far closer to losing that fight than I should have. That should have been impossible too. At his prime - perhaps. But not now. He clearly does not know he can protect himself. That is why Shisui and I -” Itachi stopped short, and did not resume speaking.

Kakashi stuck his hands in his pockets, slouching magnificently. “You tried to negotiate to spare Obito Uchiha too, didn’t you?” Itachi’s lips thinned. Rin’s expression softened, which was the real reason for saying it. “Of course they didn’t let you. The village has wanted him out of the way for years. He’s an embarrassment. And Danzo’s always suspected that he had an undisclosed gift. But he’s one of three people left who you love, isn’t he?” Rough not to count his parents - he probably thought he did love his parents - but the truth was the truth. “It’s not too late to make up for what you’ve done. How you almost killed him. We can help you protect him.”

“And what do you have to gain from that.”

“You have people you love who can’t give anything in return,” Rin said softly. “Is it so strange that we feel the same?”

Itachi hesitated. Conflict warred in his countenance. Goes to show - when he’s actually in the  process of being convinced, he’s far less compliant. Maybe they should have just told him to shut up and get with the program. But Rin did have ‘Rin-oneesama’ dreams. Couldn’t crush those.

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. “Of course, you tortured Sasuke Uchiha into becoming a tool for your suicide for…power or something? Who knows. So maybe you don’t know.” Ah, there was the good old Itachi Uchiha self-hatred. Kakashi could read this kid like a book already. “Don’t blame us for wanting a little insurance. With the program?”

Quietly, Itachi said, “Yes.”

“That’s a yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Address Rin-sama first, usually.”

Itachi turned to Rin and bowed at the waist.  “Yes, Rin-sama.”

“You are so cute,” Rin gushed. “Why don’t you run off and get the grand tour of the place from Yahiko? He’s always wanted a kid around to big brother. It’ll be a lot of fun for you, promise!” Lie. Yahiko was overwhelming when he decided to big brother you. Nagato had probably killed himself in self-defense.

“Yes, Rin-sama.”

“He’s so polite, Hound!”

Rin in a nutshell. 

As Itachi’s hand lingered on the doorknob, he turned back to look at Shisui one last time. It was clear he wanted to stay in the room with him. It was clear that he didn’t want to leave. But Itachi understood that he had jumped from the frying pan into the cleansing fire, and the bright boy already knew the score. When he returned to the long-term infirmary the door would be locked. He would know better than to try and unlock it. Rin really was a little pissy about the Obito thing. 

They waited a little while for Itachi to leave earshot before speaking again. Rin smiled, clapping her hands. “What did I tell you, Kakashi? He’s just too cute! Doesn’t he need a helping hand?”

“Slow your roll,” Kakashi drawled. “He needs a master more than love right now. He won’t believe he deserves the love. He only understands a master. I know a dog when I see one.”

“That’s why we’re a tag team.” Rin winked at him. It was adorable. “A master holds a leash to contain their hound. But the hound that truly loves the master stays at his side voluntarily.”

They really had to do something about his codename. But, of course, that had been the point. Although he knew it would be completely pointless, Kakashi said, “So the Infinite Tsukuyomi plan…which one do you think that might be? The leash or the love?”

“It’s both. A leash is the kindest thing you can do for humanity. Stops them from running off cliffs, getting run over by carriages, running afoul of cruel humans…you have to train with a leash before a hound is ready to run on its own.” Rin sighed, leaning on the nightstand and looking at Shisui. “But the regular person won’t understand that. We have to save them one person at a time until we can save the world. We saved Itachi from those monstrous, uncaring Uchiha. He’ll understand that one day. Everybody deserves a utopia except the system that would ruin it, right?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Sure.”

Rin shot him a flat look. “One of these days I’ll convince you to have an opinion about something.”

“I have an opinion about you and Obito,” Kakashi said cheekily, and he was rewarded with a soft smile. Granted, it was indistinguishable from her fake ones, but he had the benefit of trust. “Speaking of which, I think I’ll go visit him. Want to come with?”

But Rin just looked away, ghosting a hand over Shisui’s prone face. “No. If you say he’s safe, he’s safe.”

Kakashi lowered his voice. This, of all things, was her one true point of vulnerability. But Obito had always been their weakness. “You deserve to see him.” Rin’s hand halted over Shisui’s nose and mouth. “You aren’t dirty, Rin.”

“I’m weak,” Rin said softly. She placed her hand over Shisui’s nose and mouth. “If I saw him…I’d ruin it all.”

She pressed down. 

“You’re the strongest person I know. Seeing his face might make this easier to bear.” Shisui’s chest began to rise and fall faster and faster, struggling for breath. “You should at least try.”

“When the world is good,” Rin whispered. “When we have a world good enough for him. Obito or Tobi…I’ll create a world where either can be happy. One where he can be whoever he wants to be. He’ll feel safe. That’s when I will be able to face him again.”

And, left unsaid: only an Infinite Tsukuyomi could create that world. Nothing less than a completely controlled utopia could create a world where Obito Uchiha could be himself. In that way, it was all for him.

Of course, that would leave them with a secondary problem - i.e. he would probably be terrified of them. Because they were the baddies. 

Eh. Obito was nuts too. Maybe he’d roll with it. All else fails, they could just have Shisui genjutsu him. It didn’t matter. What did?

“Call me selfish,” Kakashi drawled, sticking his hands in his pockets, “but I hope he chooses Obito. Things could be…a little closer to our hopes and dreams that way.”

If Obito was terrified of them, Tobi was all they would ever get. Sacrifices and compromises must be made. And hopes and dreams would forever remain far away.

Rin smiled, sticking out her tongue at him. “We love him no matter what,” Rin said loyally. She paused a beat. “But…call me selfish too.”

Shisui’s chest grew still. Boredly, Rin’s hand glowed with green chakra, and his heart beat again. He gasped for breath, unconscious yet fighting for his life, and his breaths evened out again. He would never even know.

Kakashi saluted her, and she blew him a kiss, and he disappeared into the world that he and Obito shared. Even if he didn’t know it yet. 

*

Who was the worse person: the woman who thought her actions were helping the world, or the man who knew their actions were evil and simply didn’t care?

Of course, this was not a question Kakashi cared about either. He always ended up asking himself these questions, because despite everything he was a chronic thinker, but he alway dismissed them just as easily. They never captured his attention. Almost nothing did, save Rin and Obito. 

And maybe Yahiko and Konan, just a bit. A little bit more every day. Some distant part of Kakashi was horrified by that. Again, most of him didn’t care. He and that sulky Konan had an understanding. 

The one man Kakashi cared about (Yahiko did not count) was sitting in a hard plastic chair in a hospital room. A child was lying in a hospital bed. Probably Sasuke, recovering from his brother’s torture genjutsu. Kakashi’s eyes glossed over him. As always, there was a helpful branch outside the window, and Kakshi settled in to watch. 

Obito - might as well call him Tobi, for clarity’s sake - seemed very out of it. He should probably be in his own hospital bed, but there was no way he would stay in another room when a baby cousin needed him by his side. So tsundere but so caring. Kakashi missed Obito’s unique brand of care. The world had tried to beat it out of him, but it just couldn’t be suffocated. How often had he scorned Rin and Kakashi for their weakness, yet took every hit for them he could in battle?  How many lunches had he packed, civilians had he rescued, lectures he had inflicted upon Kakashi about how his laziness was going to kill him?

Kakashi hesitated. He…he really wanted…

Obito had lost everything, and today he had lost the rest. His family was extinct and featured only two incompetent children. Kakashi…wanted to…

Would Rin scold him for going against orders? Undoubtedly. Who was the worse person: the woman who thought her actions were helping the world, or the man who knew their actions were evil and simply didn’t care? The woman who thought she was helping Obito, or the man who knew that they were only hurting him and simply hurt him more?

Because it was Obito, it was a question that Kakashi bothered to answer. The man who tortured him with full understanding that they were torturing him was far worse. He could stop at any time - he knew how to stop, he knew that he only needed to break away from his mindless obedience to Rin - but he never would. That would involve making his own decisions. Can’t have that.

It was a useless question anyway. Obito would never forgive either of them. And yet, Kakashi wanted…

Kakashi balanced delicately on the windowsill. He tapped on the window three times, and when Tobi didn’t respond he disarmed the security seals and let himself in. 

Only then did Tobi respond. Barely. He roused himself, blinking sleepily at the intruder in a dark cloak with red clouds and a white mask. He probably should have dressed up as an ANBU, but - well, too late now. 

Immediately, Kakashi let his Sharingan spin. He cast a minor genjutsu over Tobi - there was no minor genjutsu with the Mangekyo, but it was the best he could do. Their eyes were equally matched…obviously…but between the shock and the tiredness and barely healed injuries Kakashi’s eye came out on top. 

Tobi’s eyes immediately unfocused, and he slumped a little in his seat. The genjutsu didn’t do much - it would make this event feel unreal, closer to a dream. Prevent him from panicking or remembering this encounter too well. Alright. That worked, somehow. Bizarre to get one up on Obito. Should have felt more satisfying. Really didn’t. Kakashi just felt kind of awkward now.

Unlike Rin, he had never…really interacted with Tobi. He saw other people interacting with him all the time, but Kakashi never had the pleasure. How did other people talk to him? Smaller words, simple sentences, clear directions? Kakashi could tell that it took practice for most people. He had no idea how to do it.

Since Obito was obviou - maybe - anyway, since Obito was more mentally present than he seemed, Kakashi would just talk normally and not care. But a) Obito was committed to this bit - uh, better at understanding things than he appeared to be, and would act as if he didn’t understand anyway, and b) there was no possible way that Obito was home right now. If Obito was ever home, obviously. But Obito had been home less and less as the years went by, and Kakashi could already tell that he would withdraw deep inside of himself for a while. 

Uh. What did he do. What did he do. Act as if he was talking to a dog, maybe? Kakashi knew dogs. He knew Rin and he knew dogs. Was that condescending?! Without a doubt, but - ah, fuck it. Kakashi couldn’t believe he was feeling some sort of anxiety about this. When was the last time he had felt anxiety? When he and Rin spent way too long trying to exterminate Zetsu from this green earth?

“Hey, Tobi,” Kakashi said softly. “How…are you?”

Tobi just frowned. Kakashi wanted to spin his Sharingan, remember the sight of him so close and speaking to him forever, but that would be more than suspicious. “Who are you?”

“A friend.” Would even Tobi buy that?! “Are you okay? You seem like you’ve been through a lot.” Did that work? Damn, at least he could normally depend on Obito to filter this shit. “Um. I know you’re hurt.”

“Tobi’s not okay,” Tobi said frankly. He looked over at Sasuke, sleeping so peacefully. So he either bought it or didn’t give a shit. Relatable. “Tobi’s not gonna be okay again.”

“That’s not true. One day everything will be okay.” A lump formed in Kakashi’s throat, and he forced himself to swallow it down. “I know it hurts now. But it has to hurt now.”

“Why?” Tobi asked. So plaintively. He didn’t understand.

And Kakashi could only hesitate. How could he explain this? How could he possibly explain the true nature of the world in a way that Tobi - right here, right now - could understand? Sacrifices and compromises had to be made. Kakashi and Rin were the only ones who knew that. 

Maybe Rin was good at explaining it. But she was a zealot - a fanatic who truly believed what she was saying. She was persuasive, earnest, manipulative. Kakashi was absolutely none of these things. And everybody said she had been good with Tobi. She would have been able to explain the world in her simple, beautiful way. Kakashi thought too much. He always had. There was nothing else to do, staring at clouds.

Slowly, Kakashi said, “You know how…when you break a bone, and it heals badly. You have to break it again so it sets right?” Tobi frowned, but he nodded. So he still remembered the many, many, many broken bones he had suffered. “It’s like that. The world has to heal. So it must be broken. When it heals, we’ll all be happy. Got it?”

But Tobi just frowned. Damn, and Kakashi had been pretty proud of that one. “Itachi-kun broke. Is he gonna heal?”

Kakashi hesitated. Rin would have said yes. Rin would genuinely believe that this suffering was necessary to heal Itachi, and that through her loving oneesama guidance he would become happy and fulfilled. Kakashi couldn’t say the same. What the kid needed was retirement and flower garden and a normal-ass foster parent, not a war under another flag. 

Well, time to pull an old Rin special. Also, like, a frequent tactic anybody used when dealing with Tobi. 

“Sure,” Kakashi lied. “Wait a little bit. He’ll become your friend again. You’ll like that, right?” Tobi nodded eagerly. Wow, he was stupid. “Do you…want to see your friends again?” Tobi nodded even more empathetically. “I can show you your friends again.”

Kakashi hadn’t thought about the words before he said them. Maybe Tobi was contagious like that. But Tobi’s unfocused eyes were already widening, his posture straightening a little. “Gai’s here too?”

And before he could think about it, before he could realize what a bad idea it was, Kakashi stretched out his hand. He found his voice lowering, falling into a gentle lilt. “I can take you to Itachi-kun. But I can take you to Shisui too. And Rin. And…Kakashi. Would you like that?”

Tobi looked a little skeptical. Well, even he understood the concept of mortality. “Shisui-kun and Rin-chan and Kakashi-kun are dead. Um, that’s why I have their stuff. And why Kakashi-kun’s house is lonely.”

“Minato-sen - your sensei and your nee-chan are dead.” Rin would say good riddance. Kakashi - eh. “But Shisui and Rin and Kakashi just went somewhere else. I can take you to them. Is that what you want?”

“Someplace else?” Tobi asked, eyes widening. “No…I saw them…”

“Just a bad dream,” Kakashi said. “That’s all.” He stretched his hand out further, leaving it in early reach of Tobi. “You can at least see them. Just to be sure. Then you can see for yourself that they’re okay. We’ll be quick.”

Tobi's face was so innocent. It was impressive - the clearest contrast to Rin’s own innocent face. There was no similarity. It shouldn’t be true. Weren’t they equally…?

Tobi reached out to Kakashi. Kakashi held his breath. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted this. This, this one thing, this desire - so overpowering, like a raging flame, like a bolt of lightning. It was addictive. If Obito just came home, then -

Tobi froze. “What about Sasuke?”

“What about him?” Kakashi asked blankly. 

And Tobi’s hand retreated. He looked to the bed, at the sleeping child. “If Tobi goes, Sasuke’s alone. I can’t let him be hurt alone. He needs me.” Tobi looked back at Kakashi, shaking his head firmly. “Tobi’s friends don’t need Tobi. Sasuke needs me. Tobi’s sorry, Dog-man, but Tobi can’t leave.”

Of course he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be the Obito they knew if he could. He wouldn’t be the man he and Rin loved if he made that choice.

If there were baddies, there were good guys. That was inherent. Obito was, and always would be, a good guy. That - and only that - would always keep them apart. 

“Your friend will be watching over you,” Kakashi rasped. “Always. So…don’t be sad. And don’t be scared. Your friends are doing it all for you.”

Tobi…squinted at him. For just a second, his eyes seemed clear. “Doing what?”

Uh oh. Kakashi cast a hasty genjutsu, and Tobi - Obito? Just for a second? - slumped in his seat. Kakashi stepped through kamui into…Kamui, just as quickly. This had been his worst idea of the last two years, which said a gratuitous amount.

Why was Rin breaking the bone? Well, for world peace. Love, friendship, harmony, death to the real baddies, etc. For Obito. For a world that deserved him, and where he could feel safe. Where Tobi could put Tobi down and become Obito again, if that was what he wanted. If he could. If that wasn’t possible - if Kakashi and Rin were too late to save him - then all Rin wanted was to create a world where Tobi could live happily and safely.

Why was Kakashi doing this? So he could be with Rin and Obito.

And the worse person of the two was obvious.

[slightly-smarter-nat]

What about a Natasha Romanoff X female avenger!R where Natasha has constant nightmares and has a hard time falling asleep. Then one night she finds R in the compound living room watching TV or something cause R is a night owl or just hanging around, so the red head joins her. It’s going great and Nat starts to relax but then R starts giving signs of heading to bed but Nat prolongs or suggests other things to do like have tea, watch a movie, braid hair, paint nails, anything she can come up with to not let R leave her alone and having to go back to sleep in fear of the nightmares coming back. Eventually R catches on what’s happening and asks why Nat is not letting her go to sleep and the Russian confesses, feeling guilty for keeping R from going to bed. But then R suggests Nat sleep in her room, like a sleepover, and by the end feelings are confessed! Sorry for being specific!! You write Natasha so well and on point!! I always love seeing (reading) this soft side of her!!

Favourite Person || Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of nightmares, mention of trauma, mentions of the Red Room, explicit language. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 5127 words.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request Anon, (I’m so sorry it’s late). To the anon that requested this fic, if you are not happy with it and would like me to re-write it, I will happily do so. I hope you all enjoy! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Masterlist

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

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

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

Favourite Person: Natasha Romanoff-

“No, no please- just let me go!”

The somewhat delicate yet rasping sounds of pleading whimpers of desired escape fill the momentarily still bedroom belonging to that of Natasha Romanoff.

Desperate intakes of air in combination with mind numbing struggles against a dream-like battle that she fails to overcome each night she’s graced with even a substantial set of hours to sleep, plague her traumatised mind.

With one final desperate gust of air surging through her windpipe, she forces her now awakened self up from the sweat-tainted mattress that supports her body.

Glistening, tear-filled eyes frantically roam the features of the room as Natasha scans her environment for any potential intruder destined to cause harm to her.

With a soft and grounding clutch to her Anchor shaded comforter, she concludes that she’s safe for another night; and that her wicked past has once again robbed her of another night of a peaceful and yet craved slumber.

Natasha can’t help as her hands roam her heated skin, having the urge to fidget as her mind fails to come down from the relentless period of memories belonging to that of the Red Room- ones that she would be ever so quick to forget if she was given the opportunity.

Knowing any further hours designated to sleep were off the table, Natasha leans her trembling body over to her bedside table- hoping to deliver herself a well needed drink of water to not only lessen her now dry throat, but to have the calming effect needed to slow her rapidly pacing heart rate down.

Much to her dismay, as she grasps the hardened plastic cup that once held a heaped amount of water in it; she soon realises her cup is now empty.

Having had her right to drink forfeited, she releases a gentle breath of frustration, alongside a string of Russian curses at the continuous, nightly bad luck that seems to be lurking its way to her recently.

One night she hopes she can have a dreamless sleep just to gather up enough energy to carry out her duties as an Avenger, and to stop her waking mind from reliving the nightmares from the night before. Though that seems like too much to ask.

Refusing to re-enter her nightmares once more during the nightly period, she sleepily hoists her body out from between her sheets. Ensuring she gives herself a moment to steady her breathing before leaving her darkened room.

Knowing she is ready, she quickly swipes her empty cup from her bedside table and ever so quietly makes her way to her bedroom door; taking extra care when turning the doorknob to exit the room with as minimal levels of noise as possible. She’d hate herself for disturbing any of her teammates with her late night adventure to the kitchen. Just because she can’t sleep, why should they pay the price in losing sleep also?

Little does Natasha know, one teammate in particular would lose countless hours of sleep to ensure the redhead was safe and secure in any situation- especially when her haunting dreams take their toll.

As Natasha makes her way through the narrow pathways leading to her desired location; she picks up a little tune on the side of her cup, allowing her nails to tap mindlessly against the smooth surface. Hoping her mind chooses to focus on the range of movements needed to continue the repeated pattern, opposed to the horrors lingering from within.

That is until her ears pick up on muffled voices coming from the living area of the Compound.

Natasha’s entire system freezes; in her sleepy and somewhat confused state of mind, her thoughts rush to the most terrifying conclusions:

The voices could belong to Hydra members; desperate to seek and steal documents from the Avengers. It could be the Red Room, sending their final wave of untraceable Widows to finish Natasha and Yelena off, and in the process take out the Avengers.

With a vice, tight grip now on her cup, Natasha steadily allows her feet to move herself towards the noise source in a stealthy manner- attempting to gauge the seriousness of the situation and to determine how much force will be needed to deal with the potential intruders.

Natasha unknowingly releases laboured breaths, each step filling her body with a dread that she has not felt since she was a child roaming the hallways of the Red Room itself. Desperately trying to move from one room to another without being punished for stepping in the incorrect sequence or even making too much noise when she is so harshly trained to be as silent as a whisper.

As Natasha lines her back with the edge of the wall leading to the Living Area and Kitchen, she inhales a steady breath, knocking herself into her ruthless ‘Black Widow’ nature. With a hardened glare, she moves her line of sight around the corner to which her entire demeanour drops as soon as she spots the unexpected scene unfolding in front of her.

She finds you laying across the couch haphazardly as you stare at the TV screen illuminating the room in a gentle, blue hue as the muffled voices that Natasha mistakenly thought to be intruders continue- seemingly now belonging to the show that entraps your attention currently.

Natasha slowly moves closer to you, noticing more details as she approaches: like how one of your legs swings over the edging of the sofa in a careless motion as you stare at the images dancing across the screen; how you lazily place singular pieces of popcorn on your tongue in anticipation to bite down on the slightly hardened texture of the food item. Even how you carefully rest your head on your supported hand, tilting your gaze in wonderment of the information being gathered from the show of your choice.

She can’t help but stare at you in awe, finding it highly difficult to recall an instance where she has known you to be so calm and collected. Even being in your presence has removed some of the tension that had been built up in her muscles since she woke up from her nightmare.

She must admit, she’s relieved to find you of all people out here. Out of all the members of the team recently, you’ve been one of the only ones who can effortlessly put a smile on her face- something she is in desperate need of in her current state.

Having the overwhelming sense to join you, she chooses to clear her throat, snapping you out of your TV trance once you register her presence.

You quickly reach for the TV remote and eagerly press down on the mute button as you go to speak to Natasha, “Oh, hey, sorry did I wake you up?”

Natasha quickly shakes her head, “No, I just- I wanted some more water. I didn’t expect anyone else to be up so late.” Natasha silently scolds herself for her awkward stuttering for an answer. Though she knows she’s not quite ready to burden you with her night terrors, part of her feels the added weight of keeping the anxiety surrounding them in once more.

You push yourself up from the couch with a slight groan, having been in the same position for several hours straight, “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m more of a ‘night owl’ than anything so usually I watch my shows in my room but my TV is busted. Tony said he will fix it for me tomorrow so this is more of a one off.” You say as you gesture to the scene around you.

Natasha takes in your words as she draws invisible patterns on her cup, “Don’t apologise, it’s nice to have some company at this time of night.” Natasha says genuinely, usually having to face the aftermath of her nightmares alone until the more reasonable hours of the morning.

“What are you watching?” She attempts to guide the conversation forward.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Natasha to show an interest, “Oh, um Cupcake Wars.” You answer with glee.

Natasha smirks at your show choice, “Cupcake Wars? Really?” She says in a humoured manner.

You tilt your head with a narrowed gaze, “Judgment? Really?” You remark in a light manner, earning a chuckle from the Black Widow herself.

You lick your lips before you go to speak again, “You can blame Yelena for this, I wasn’t even into it until she made me watch it.”

Natasha scoffs in disbelief, never having assumed Yelena would even be into shows such as this, “Yelena? My sister? The lean, mean Mac n’ Cheese loving machine?”

You laugh at her words, knowing upon Yelena’s arrival to the Avengers she was eager to let it be known of her efficiency as a former member of the Red Room and how ambitious she can be in her line of work, but to her Sister and friends, she’s as soft as they come.

“Well yes, your sister, who I happened to be paired up with on a Recon Mission in December, decided that we needed to fulfil our ‘authentic American Christmas’, by watching the ‘Holiday Special’ of this series whilst we waited for Hydra to mess up and give us intel. Ever since then we’ve watched every episode, and we can mutually agree it’s the best decision we have ever made.” You playfully put it to Natasha, knowing she loves hearing the details of how well Yelena is settling into her new life away from the Red Room- the now secure life the two of them deserve.

Natasha beams at the information, relieved that Yelena is finding comfort within the Avengers, “Thank you for including her.” Natasha simply says, extremely grateful for your kindness, not only towards her, but to her little sister.

You smile at Natasha’s words, “Of course, it’s the same kindness you showed me when I first arrived at the Compound.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at your words, “Oh, believe me, it was a hard task being kind to you. You were feral.” Natasha attempts to tease you, knowing your first impressions of each other has been a running gag in your friendship for years.

You release an exaggerated gasp at her words, “Well, we both know I had Tony as my mentor so what did everyone expect to happen honestly?! I think I turned out pretty good considering my Avenger upbringing.” You lift yourself up to tuck one of your legs underneath yourself, seemingly becoming more engaged in the conversation through excitement of having Natasha close by.

Natasha pouts her lip and nods along to your words, “Sure, sure, we’ll let you believe that y/l/n.”

You quickly pick up a piece of popcorn to throw at Natasha, allowing your joyful laughs to fill the room.

Natasha easily catches the rogue piece of Popcorn, shoving it into her mouth for good measure, before bringing up the subject she has been dreading since she engaged in conversation with you, “I guess I had better grab my drink and leave you be. Goodnight, y/n.”

Your momentarily excited features drop slightly at Natasha’s words and loss of presence, you love being in her company. Majority of the time she’s the main source of happiness you can grasp at, with having some horrific events occur from your job, it’s refreshing having that comfort person you can call your friend- that person being Natasha.

Part of you also picks up on the depressed features of Natasha’s posture; usually present when something is on her mind or after a gruelling Mission.

You fail to anticipate your own moves when you hear Natasha returning from the Kitchen area of the Compound. Before you have time to think, your mouth opens up to release your next statement, “Hey, Nat. Would you like to watch a movie or something? This episode is nearly done and I’m not quite ready to go to bed yet.” You attempt to place the reasonings behind your question on yourself, hoping that if there is something Natasha wants to talk about, that she will feel comfortable enough to do so if she feels as though you invited her to hang out with yourself; rather than her having to ask.

Natasha stops her movements at your words, a flood of relief building up inside herself at your question. She desperately wanted to ask you herself, but the nipping feeling of guilt from intrusion of your alone time played on her mind so much so that she was too afraid to stay in your company.

As the overwhelming emotion of reassurance takes over Natasha, she chooses to nod at your question; failing to hide the string of grateful tears that line her exhausted eyes and knowing a waver in her voice would give away her fear of the night.

When Natasha moves to round the couch, she can’t help but smile at your effort to clear the perfect space for her to join you.

You instantly begin a clear down of the area, removing stray pieces of popcorn that somehow fell from your grasp during your Cupcake Wars marathon. You move to straighten up the charcoal tinted pillows; fluffing them up to mimic a comforting environment for Natasha to settle in to.

Once you look over your work and determine the couch to be satisfactory for Natasha, you dramatically wave for her to sit down. To which she does with an eye roll and a laugh.

As you reach for the TV remote and settle into your previous spot on the couch, Natasha sets her cup of water on the coffee table, waiting for you to choose the perfect movie for the two of you to watch together.

Though to her surprise, you stretch your arm out towards her, handing her the remote for control of the TV.

Natasha quirks a curious eyebrow at your gesture, “Y/n, what are you doing?”

You match her curious look at her question, “I want you to choose what we watch, Nat. Pick anything, I don’t mind.” You say with a comforting smile of reassurance.

Natasha hesitantly removes the remote from your outstretched hand, studying the array of buttons decorating it, “Are you sure? This is your time to-“

You interrupt Natasha, remembering the countless times she has been refused a choice on movie night, due to Tony’s unfair system of choosing the designated movie of the night- somehow it always ends up being one of his favourites…

“Natasha, I am more than positive that I want you to choose. Plus, this is our shared time to hang out, pick anything you would like.”

Natasha stares at you for a moment longer, attempting to detect a hint of change in your answer. When she realises you’re serious in your offer, she uses the the button to scroll through endless amounts of movie titles that all blend into a colourful blur after a minute or two.

That is until her eyes land on one of her comfort movies- Moonraker.

She allows the remote’s cursor to hover over the poster assigned to the James Bond movie on the list available, determining her options on how to approach asking you if this was an acceptable choice.

You soon notice the longing of the highlighted movie choice on the screen and the conflicted features crossing Natasha’s face as she has her own mental battle.

You turn yourself to gather Natasha’s attention, “Hey, is this the movie you want to watch?” You gently ask, trying not to push her in any way.

Natasha fidgets with the remote in her hands as she ponders a response, “Yeah, it’s a comfort movie. Is that okay?” She asks you calculatedly, worried you’ll reject the idea.

You reach over the back of the couch for a blanket left behind from a previous movie night, styling it out to cover yourself, “Of course it is, I’d love to watch it with you Natasha. Put it on,” You say as you tap the open space next you, alongside a lift of the blanket, intended to cover Natasha with.

Natasha wastes no time in pressing play to start the movie as she slides across the couch and into your embrace. What may seem as a small gesture to you, is a relieving gesture for Natasha.

Not only have you granted her the comfort of her go to movie of all time, but embracing her in a warm manner heightens the idea of Natasha being truly safe within the Compound.

As the two of you snuggle into the couch in anticipation of watching the movie; all the previous, dark thoughts from earlier in the night have evaded Natasha’s mind completely.

Hopefully it remains that way.

——-

Just as the final scene of the movie commences; the end credits begin to roll out on the screen, signifying the end of the action-packed sequence.

Natasha continues to watch the screen in a dazed state, happily losing herself within the familiar scenes of Moonraker.

However, she comes back to her senses once she feels you stretch your body out from beneath her, having cuddled up to you closer and closer as the movie has played.

You quickly finish stretching your arms and legs out, you take a moment to glance at your watch and release a low whistle at the time illuminating your watch face, “Wow, 4 am already? Shit, sorry Nat, I didn’t mean to keep you up so long.” You start to push yourself up from the cushioned layer of the couch, signalling for Natasha to move up also.

As she discards the blanket aside, a wave of uneasiness settles within her. She doesn’t want to go back to bed now, she dreads to think of what horrors await her in her dreams once she closes her eyes again. She was beginning to feel safe in your company, but now you’re readying yourself to go to bed, she’s terrified that you’ll leave her alone with her thoughts.

With her endless thoughts of torment, she stares at the now blank TV in thought. You notice her vacant expression, allowing you to kneel down in front of her and gently place your hands on her knees.

Natasha jumps slightly at your touch, however she soon places her hands on top of yours to signal that your comforting efforts are welcome, “Natasha, are you ready to head back to bed?” You ask cautiously, remaining ignorant to the issue at hand.

Natasha rubs her soft hands across the delicate skin of yours as she goes to speak, “You know, we’ve still got a bit of time to hang out before the others get up. We could try some of that new tea brand Tony bought as a trial for the Team; we could watch another movie, there’s plenty of James Bond movies for you to catch up on-“

Your eyes scan Natasha’s face as she rambles out endless ways in which the two of you should stay up for a little bit longer, “Natasha-“

Natasha shakes her head as she continues her plea, desperate for you to agree with her and stay up, “Oh, I could show you how to do those Dutch braids you like in your hair. You’re always saying how much you want to learn-“

“Natasha!”

The raise in your voice throws Natasha out of her rant, unwillingly sending a pang of fear into her chest.

As you recognise the disheartening features spreading across Natasha’s persona, you make an effort to rub reassuring circles on her arms, encouraging her to relax, “What’s going on? Why are you so adamant for us to stay up?”

Natasha fails to conceal the tears that line her eyes once again, frustration making itself known, “I can’t tell you, you’ll think I’m being ridiculous.” She whispers out, not caring that you’re seeing her in what she’d consider a weakened state.

You move to sit next to her closely, wrapping a protective arm around her, “Natasha, I could never think you’re ridiculous. You’re the strongest person I know, and if something is upsetting you this much- to the point where you don’t want me to go to bed, then I want to do everything in my power to help you. I promise you, I won’t judge you, I just want to help.”

Natasha allows her tears of despair to run down her face as she looks at you, understanding the sincerity of your words. She chooses to confide in you, “Ever since I could remember, I’ve had the most horrific dreams from my time in the Red Room, and even from certain Missions. They feel so real, I hear the pain from past victims of my actions; the drilling voices of those who kept me in the Red Room and made me what I am today-“

You give Natasha the room to talk, hating the fact you didn’t pick up on her suffering sooner- though this is Natasha Romanoff, when she wants to hide something, she does so without a trace.

“Usually when I wake up, everyone else is asleep so I just wait until someone else wakes up and pretend I got up early to train or something. No one ever notices, I hide it well, just like I’ve been taught to all these years. Then tonight, you were here, and I just felt safe and secure, you just know how to make me feel calm and appreciated. I’m sorry for putting this on you y/n, I just wanted to feel safe.”

You turn away briefly from Natasha to hide your own tears upon hearing her pain, with one deep breath you move to rest your forehead on top of Natasha’s fiery red locks, “Natasha, you’re not putting anything on me okay. I mean it when I say I want to do everything in my power to make you feel safe. I understand why you wanted to stay up longer, but do you think if we go to bed in my room or something, you might feel safe enough to sleep?”

Natasha slowly lifts her head up from under yours to catch your gaze, “You’d do that for me?”

You instantly nod, “Of course I will, I’ll do anything for you Natasha.”

Natasha bites her lip at your words, never having believed she could be so lucky to have someone like you in her life, “Thank you y/n. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

You pick yourself up from the couch and hold a supportive hand out to Natasha, which she gladly takes. Once you have switched all the necessary devices off in the living area and kitchen, you guide Natasha to your bedroom, “I think I do, but you’re still going to teach me how to braid my hair right?” You question Natasha, earning a light chuckle from her.

“I suppose I can look over my very busy schedule and fit you in somewhere.” Natasha lets out, allowing the anxieties of the night to vacate her mind.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of room in your schedule for your favourite person.” You reply, mindlessly following the corridors to your designated area of the compound.

Once you arrive at your door, Natasha raises a tired yet questioning brow, “Who said you were my favourite?”

You give her a light shrug, “I just know you can’t argue with logic.”

Natasha smirks as she moves into your room, noticing the minor details scattered across the area that makes the room entirely yours, once you move to switch your bedside lamp on to highlight the features more.

Natasha stands in the middle of the room, hesitant to move anywhere without your word.

You make quick work of straightening out your bed for Natasha; hiding any loose items that are long overdue their clean up as you refuse to admit the last time your room had a good clean out.

“Okay, the bed is ready for you. I’ll take the couch-“

Natasha frowns at your words, “We’re not sharing?”

You stop your actions as you attempt to make the couch into a makeshift bed for the night, “I don’t mind taking the couch honestly, it’s… comfy.” You say in an unconvincing tone, earning an eye roll from Natasha.

“Come on, we can share the bed, I don’t bite.” Natasha says as she eagerly settles into your soft and comforting sheets.

You silently release a breath of relief, having saved your back from a rough night of sleep on the outdated couch lumbered in your room.

Once you switch off your light, you easily slide into the other side of the bed, next to Natasha. Allowing your body to relax itself into your heavenly, cushioned mattress.

Assuming the sudden silence was reserved for sleeping, you close your eyes and bask in your comforting surroundings. Until a voice fills the hushed atmosphere, “Are you still awake?”

You release a relaxed breath as you go to reply, “Yeah, are you?”

Natasha releases a laugh from beside you, “Who do you think asked you doofus.” Natasha teases.

You roll on your side to face Natasha, using the minor elements of moonlight seeping through your blinds to study Natasha’s magnificent features, “Well J.A.R.V.I.S is quite the conversationalist at night, so pardon me for being curious to whom I am addressing Romanoff.” You say in the most serious tone you can muster- extremely low severity.

Natasha smiles brightly at your lightheartedness, “Sometimes I do wonder about you y/l/n.”

You tilt your head in challenge at Natasha’s words, “Oh yeah? What do you wonder about Nat?”

Natasha’s features fall into a stoic nature as she thinks of what to say, “I wonder how someone as loving and caring as you, would willingly want to hang around with someone like me?”

Your body shifts in discomfort at her words, sensing a tone of insecurity, “Someone like you? That’s not a bad thing Natasha.”

Natasha nods at your words, “It is, y/n, I know how people see me. Some ruthless monster who’s only worth is that of being a product of the Red Room. An assassin, produced to kill without fear or hesitation-“

You abruptly push yourself up to study Natasha in disbelief, “Natasha, that’s your nightmares talking. The Natasha I know, the real Natasha is so kind, considerate and incredible. You never fail to care for those around you. Hell, I bet you’ve saved more lives being an Avenger, than lives you were forced to take under the Red Room. Natasha you’re worth so much more than a brand under the Red Room.”

Natasha looks away from you as you continue your truths, having only her nightmares confirm her greatest fears.

“Natasha, you do realise none of the past was your fault. The Red Room took you, melted your mind and melded it into something cruel. It wasn’t your fault they did that to you and it certainly isn’t your fault that they controlled you to a point where you weren’t even of a conscious mind to understand the consequences of the actions they ordered you to do.”

You gently cup Natasha’s face and instantly swipe away a pained tear escaping her eye, “You’re not a monster, you’re a hero- my hero. Nat, you inspire me to be the best Avenger I can be. You inspire so many people around the world to protect others and do what is right. If I ever hear anyone saying anything different, I’ll kick their ass.” You add for good measure, earning a dry chuckle from Natasha.

“You’re not part of the Red Room, you’re Natasha Romanoff- Avenger, Hero and quite honestly the best thing this Planet has ever given us-“

Your words of wisdom are cut off once Natasha attaches her lips to yours, fulfilling every ounce of gratitude into one delicate and addictive kiss.

As Natasha slowly pulls away, she can’t help but bite her lip in amusement at your dazed features, “You can breathe you know y/n.”

You blink extremely slowly as your mind is sent into a frenzy of pure happiness, “Um, what were we talking about?” You suddenly ask, not knowing what else to do under the current circumstances.

Natasha pulls you down onto the bed as she moves to rest her head on your chest- its rightful space, “I’m pretty sure we were talking about how you’re my favourite person?” Natasha playfully adds.

You nod along as you pull Natasha closer towards you, “Hmm, that does sound accurate.”

With a quick mumble of ‘dork’ from Natasha, the two of you settle down for a night of slumber. Finding safety and security in each other’s arms.

——-

Soft, delicate finger tipped brushes against your rib cage wake you up from your relaxed slumber.

As your eyes flutter open, they meet ethereal green irises as they study your sleepy state.

Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, allowing you to release a sigh of content at the comforting gesture, “Good morning, y/n/n.”

You sleepily smile at the sound of Natasha’s raspy voice, never failing to have your heart fluttering in excitement, “Good morning Nat, how did you sleep?” You nervously ask, hoping with every ounce of your being that she was able to rest after her nightmares.

Natasha initially responds with a glamorous smile, allowing you to replicate it to the same effect, “That was probably the best sleep I’ve had in over ten years.” She giddily lets out.

You pull her into your embrace, “No nightmares?”

Natasha nods to confirm, “No nightmares.”

You place an ecstatic kiss on the crown of her head, over the moon with the possibility that Natasha may be able to escape her nightmares.

“You know, maybe we should make this sleepover thing a permanent thing?” You ask sleepily.

Natasha hums at your words, “Well, I don’t see why not. Your bed is pretty comfortable.”

You laugh at Natasha's choice of comfort, “What about the person you’re currently cuddling?”

Natasha shrugs lightly, “I suppose they’re okay, the cuddles are a bonus.”

You smile at her words, “Well maybe I’ll have to deduct the cuddle clause from the agreement.”

Natasha tightens her grip on your body impossibly tight, “Try it and you’ll see why they say my Widow Bite Stings pack a nasty punch.”

“Oh well, we wouldn’t want to test that out.”

“Nope.” Natasha replies as she settles back into your embrace.

You allow a few seconds to pass before you bring up your next question, “What if-“

“No.” Natasha says with a flick of her fingers delivered to your forehead, eager to have you sleep in a little bit longer.

It’s safe to say that Natasha Romanoff is most definitely your favourite person.

—————————

Taglist: @beefromanoff

[qrichas]

thinking abt the happy pills arc again but mostly importantly at how many references of brazilian history was there during forevers lives specially the music... like the clothes ccforever was using the video of rio in the 50s the references to vargas era and bossa nova. i saw an artist making an animatic of him using "construção" by chico buarque which is one of my fav songs from the anti ditactorship era along with "panis et circenses" and my brain got rewired as well. gosh it was soooooo so good and so well done you can even make a video essay about it ccforever rlly poped off with that i never felt so hyped with an arc bc im an history nerd AND seeing brazilian history implemented on a multilingual server was just *chefs kiss*

[thirstyvampyr]

I dreamed that ian tries to give mickey swim lessons. Mickey is ashamed other people will know he can't swim so they jump the fence at night when the building is asleep. Of course everytime ian puts his hands on mickey to show him mickey gets horny and keeps giving him looks or tries to grab his ass and they always end up fucking in the pool. Mickey still doesn't know how to swim despite them going every week in summer. And everytime mickey mentions to someone how much he loves swimming ian gives him the most side eye yeah I bet you do mickey...

[ardentpoop]

naturally

[writingwife-83]

My husband keeps assuring me that Ben will be back in the upcoming Rey movie. Am I saying he has some sort of special insider knowledge? Well… No. 😆 But he is very often right about stuff. So yeah, just thought I’d share lol.