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being-worthy · 2 years ago

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Guns N’ Roses - 3½ hour concert (and a long Slash guitar solo)!!

(This is my 2nd attempt writing this because Tumblr's automatic saving is shitty.)

I know, I know... I'm soooooooooooooooo freaking late with this...

But I had some issues, health and mostly to do with work, and my dumb manager who changes his mind more than a Kardashian changes her clothes in a day. (I hope to quit it soon and hopefully with a new/better job in the horizon.)

But without further ado, let's get to the GNR concert.

The concert was at the Cívitas Metropolitano on Friday, 9th June 23 in Madrid. The weather was nice and warm, a bit cloudy but no rain thankfully, since it had been raining cats and dogs at the beginning of the week. Although there were around 40,000 people present, the home stadium of Atlético Madrid was not fully filled, sadly.

Let's start with the negative parts...

The music started, and I don't mean GNR, but the opening act was not until almost 4 hours later(!!) than its scheduled time.

Apparently, and this is just a rumour. Still, I heard this from many many many security staff members, volunteers, and last but not least, even GNR staff members that it was because Axl was being a little diva and didn't show up until like an hour later after everyone had already been at the venue for rehearsal. The security staff couldn't even have their lunch break on time but only 2 hours later! Imagine these people are on-site since the wee hours of the morning and might have water and a snack here and there, but not proper food in them and you've to wait an extra 2 hours for your lunch and the guys for the next shift. Once I was at the entrance of the venue, I could hear Axl practising which was great but I wanted them to get some food and to get to the main event already!

Moreover, they were supposed to practise the day before but this was cancelled due to rain and I WAS THERE to check out the venue (and totally not because my silly butt mistook the dates 🤣) and the supposed "rain" was like a few water drops and some wind. Now, I'm not an expert, but I don't see that for a little water, which I wouldn't even consider rain, it'd be necessary to cancel the whole band practice, especially if the whole thing is under a roof and the venue is known for being one hell of a place to get the sound right. I don't consider this very professional, particularly, the part that Axl was late which I was also told that it wasn't the first time (the previous one was that everyone was at the place in the morning but he said that he had to finish his lunch and didn't appear until way after lunchtime). I could've overlooked this if anyone not even necessarily Axl, just anyone had apologised right when the concert started. Nevertheless, it wouldn't be a GNR concert without its shenanigans, I guess.

The organisation left a lot to be desired (again). It was the same story that the GNR staff didn't communicate with the venue staff like last year which I don't understand why this is something so difficult to do? And hundreds of people didn't know where they had to go in order to wait to get inside.

There were some sound problems, especially, because they didn't practise enough and this stadium is known for being difficult and requires a lot of rehearsal (at least, a full day), but it wasn't as bad as last year despite most opinions I've heard, mind you I was front row, like literally in front of the horn which Axl always toots right before Nightrain.

And the last thing, the stage was way too high up compared to the previous year. I could barely see them when Duff and Slash sat in front of the drums and play. I’ve got no clue why they’d raise it up so high. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Now about the positive aspects...

The opening was done by The Pretenders and they were a G-O-O-D F-R-E-A-K-I-N-G choice! They were amazing and brought me many children's memories back 😊.

Chrissie Hynde's voice was so ethereal and she sounded so great!! I loved them so much as a child and I'd like to see them again.

Once the stars of the event appeared, I wanted to smooch Axl sooooo badly!! He started greeting my home with his enunciation in English saying "Spaaaainnnnn" with that "n" nasal typical of him.

There was a moment when Slash was lying on top of the equipment and I wanted to throw myself on top of him 😂 - don't blame me for this, I know I'm not the only one who probably had the same thought.

I loved that they played Yesterdays, Patience, and You Could Be Mine which are some of my favourite songs of them. 😭❤️

But what really really made this event so special and unique to me was when I blew a kiss to Duff and he gave me a full-teeth smile from ear to ear and he look so good and sweet!! I was trying not to pass out of how delicious Slash was with his shirt wide open, glistening from all the sweat (I never wanted to be a drop of sweat so bad in my life like in that moment) and his arms and hands and veins, god dammit his arms!! YUMMY!!!! 🤤 And when I blew a kiss to Slash too... I thought I was done for it for real!! 😍😍😍 He gave me a sexy and devilish smirk combined with a wink and made this gesture but showing his long and big tongue fully out:

I was ready for heaven/hell to take me.

And yes, my loins were very on hellfire at that moment!

The concert ended around 0.57 am and it was quite an adventure to get back to my accommodation and fight my way through thousands of people to get to the last train of the day.

Here's the list of the songs they played:

It’s So Easy

Bad Obsession

Chinese Democracy

Mr. Brownstone

Slither (Velvet Revolver version)

Welcome to the Jungle

Pretty Tied Up

Reckless Life

Double Talkin’ Jive

Hard Skool

Absurd

Live and Let Die (Wings version)

Wichita Lineman (Jimmy Webb version)

You Could Be Mine

Estranged

Down on the Farm (UK Subs version)

Rocket Queen

Anything Goes

T.V. Eye (The Stooges version) (and baby boy Duff sung! He should sing more!)

There Was a Time

Don’t Cry

Shadow of Your Love

Civil War

Long Slash guitar solo

Sweet Child o’ Mine

November Rain

This I Love

Locomotive

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door (Bob Dylan version)

Nightrain

Extras:

Yesterdays

Patience

Paradise City

I'd have preferred it if everything had been better organised and if there had been some more interaction from Axl and the rest with the audience. I mean, it's not that difficult to include your audience one way or another. We didn't even get a 'thank you' at the end, but one thing I want to tell everyone is to stop comparing then and now, whether you've had the honour to see them in the past or not, just enjoy it as much as possible and stop saying crap like "he sounded better back then and now he sounds like a chipmunk" or "they've gained so much weight", or any other nonsense like it. To everyone saying shit like this, bugger off!! 🖕

Overall, I give the concert a solid 9/10.

Last picture credits to Guns N' Roses.

#guns n roses #guns n roses concert #guns n' roses #madrid #madrid concert #gnr 2023 #gnr tour 2023 #gnr concert

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electrasev5nwrites · 2 years ago

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Ninja Daily: AIC 10

"I don't want to be here all day, kunoichi."

Aiko resisted the impulse to snort and looked up from the rolls of bandages she'd been trying to juggle. "What other equipment do you need?" It wasn't like she was the one they were waiting on.

Zabuza looked like he wanted to push her out of the way to get at the shelf. His jaw clenched. Instead, he stepped around her and took an entire box of the rolled bandage. "Basic medical supplies." His eyes darted to her, small and resentful. "Small weaponry. Rations. Soldier pills, if we can get them."

It felt like he regretted every syllable he had to say to her. Like he thought she was taking something from him.

She didn't take it personally. His shoulders had begun to hunch as soon as they'd entered the town, but now, he was keeping his chin up aggressively and giving dark looks to anyone who came too close.

He seemed like a half-feral animal in the peaceful, normal space of a small-town pharmacy. Zabuza was like a cat that had been kicked before, and viewed consenting to being fed as an admittance of weakness.

'That might not be far from the truth. Mist has never seemed particularly nurturing.'

For the first time, she wondered about his background. What kind of childhood made someone a killer without attending an academy or any sort of comparable training system?

Well.

'A really shitty one. He's been desperate and hungry for a long time. I doubt he even knows what he's hungry for. But he wants to be a leader and fix it. That's… kind of inspiring. I doubt he's doing it out of sentimental love for his childhood home.'

"Hmm." She tossed the bandages into a basket and curled her fingers around the handle lightly. She kept her thoughts off her face. Aiko wasn't thick enough to think Zabuza would want her sympathy, even if she was the type of person who initiated those kinds of conversations. "The pills will be hard. Unless you know a supplier off hand?"

He gave her a withering look and walked away to disappear down another row of splintering shelves.

Aiko rolled her eyes.

'I didn't think so.'

Villages had that kind of thing on a tight leash. There was probably big money in moving those kinds of performance drugs, but the formulas were state secrets and the actual items were regulated and watched. It was a rare example of a time when the risks and annoyances outweighed the potential for profit in smuggling. Bit like the difficulty in getting other types of shinobi equipment outside of a village.

At least the other supplies shouldn't be impossible. Rations really weren't going to be a problem at all. With hiraishin, she was never cut off from supply lines. It was unfortunate that she might have to play delivery girl again, but hardly the end of the world.

Zabuza rounded the stacks again, expression tight and body language impatient.

'If he wants to go so damn badly, why doesn't-'

Oh.

'I have the money. He doesn't want to ask me for an allowance like a child.'

Right.

Aiko yawned, closing her eyes to stretch. "I think I need to recoup." She didn't quite look at him. "Would you get Utakata from next door? I'll go through the line so we can get out of here. We'll make camp tonight, and figure out how to retrieve Haku and deal with Gato tomorrow."

Being tired was a convenient excuse, but it wasn't really a lie. She was still low on energy from reviving Zabuza. Sleep would be best, at this point.

'And isn't that strange? Fuu's body was in much worse shape, but I was still fighting fit after that revival.'

She couldn't entirely explain what the difference was. She'd thought that the main chakra expense correlated to the amount of repair that bodies needed. But if that wasn't true…

'Maybe it's time that matters, instead of damage. Zabuza was dead for at least a week longer than Fuu. Maybe… maybe his soul was more reluctant to leave. More acclimated to death.'

Aiko shook that thought off, creeped out. No. That was ridiculously superstitious speculation. It was below her in every way to spook herself so stupidly.

"Fine." Roughly, Zabuza dropped everything he was carrying into her basket, never mind that it didn't really fit. A bottle of pills rolled off to the floor with a clatter, but he was already halfway down the aisle.

She tried not to roll her eyes again. Aiko bent to pick that up without sending anything else flying. With a little difficulty, she hauled her burden to the clerk. The man gave a watery smile when he saw her. He repeatedly glanced over her head as she worked.

'Probably looking for Zabuza. He does make that kind of impression.'

Somehow, she didn't snicker.

'We need to get weaponry next. That isn't going to be easy, either. Might have to risk making a commission with a weapons smith who can work with shinobi-grade metal. Either that or scavenge. Both options risk bringing contact with a village in some capacity. Not optimal. But of course he wants a full kit if he's going to go take on the Mizukage's forces. That seems so… troublesome. Can we not do that?'

Aiko stilled, eyes losing focus as she had an idea. She'd mostly just been whining, but she might be on to something there.

'When Kisame thought I'd killed Pein, he didn't even think to ask questions about anything other than how I would be as his new leader. Is that… mist-normal?'

"Here you are." The clerk pushed her bags across the counter and managed to look at her long enough to bow properly.

"Yeah. Thanks." Absentmindedly, she slid the supplies off the counter and tried not to hunch under the weight. She wanted to talk to Zabuza. He wasn't in the mood now, but once they were out of town, away from crowds, he might be more amenable.

She tried at the first opportunity, perched close to the campfire. "Hey, Zabuza. Is there anyone other than the Mizukage who needs to die?"

"Lots of people need to die," Zabuza grunted dismissively.

'Stupid and dramatic.'

Aiko huffed. "No, I mean, anyone in specific."

He made a rude sound. "Anyone who gets in my way when I go for the Mizukage."

"Right," Aiko agreed with patience she didn't feel. "But is anyone going fight in his name after he's already dead?"

Zabuza snorted. He finally deigned to look at her, eyes yellow in the firelight. "Doubt it. Fucker's not popular."

"Good." Aiko chirped. She relaxed, nearly melting against a large rock. "That'll make things easier. We'll just go directly to the Mizukage and not bother with anyone else. We don't need to raise an army, if it'll be yours as soon as he's dead. Right?" She made a thumbs up.

Her mist-nin companions exchanged looks.

"Yagura-san will not meet an enemy outside the village," Utakata pointed out. "It will be necessary to fight through most of the village, unless they are persuaded beforehand to stand down. That is likely Terumi-san's plan."

'Do they think I'm an idiot?'

Aiko scowled at her companions, which took some doing, since they were positioned on opposite sides of the fire. Neither of them seemed remotely impressed by her glower, but they registered it. When she was certain her displeasure had been expressed, she put her hands on her hips. "Obvious things are still obvious, thanks for the update. If we're done with that, you happen to know a person who can take you directly to the Mizukage, so that we don't have to fuck around with making friends or killing perfectly useful people. Does that change anything?"

Zabuza opened his mouth. Then he closed it. He became very interested in wrapping his arms back up with bandages that didn't have maggots in them.

"I see." Utakata looked away. "Your backup plan is to sidestep all of a nation's highest security and assassinate the most powerful man who lives there, to save time and effort." He shook his head, lips pulled into the shade of a smile. "Perhaps Zabuza-san would find such information useful."

Aiko blinked. "You're not planning on coming?" She'd thought it had been weird that he'd wandered off when they'd gone on an equipment run, but she hadn't realized his participation was in doubt. He was reliable. Dependable. Familiar.

'Stupid. I got too used to relying on him.'

As soon as she thought about it, it seemed obvious. He wasn't really her teammate. He didn't have to do whatever she wanted. He probably didn't want to go back to the village that had failed him.

His expression indicated all that and more. "Indeed." Utakata tucked his hands inside his sleeves and closed his eyes, earlier amusement gone.

Aiko took the hint: the conversation was over. She passed out easily, eyes closing on distant stars instead of wooden beams. Maybe Utakata wasn't going to stay, but she trusted that he would watch her back while they were still working together.

She woke up with the sun. Zabuza was already up- or perhaps he hadn't slept. She didn't care either way. Aiko stretched, first the lazy, satisfying muscle movements common to the morning. And then she stretched for flexibility, tuning her body like the weapon it was. If they did go after the Mizukage today, she wanted to be in good shape.

He was almost certainly Obito's creature at this point. Maybe it was foolish, but she couldn't help but feel that this would make the Mizukage even more dangerous.

'It's not impossible,' Aiko reminded herself. 'Mei did it.'

Of course, Mei was a completely different type of fighter. It could be that she'd had some advantage that Aiko and Zabuza lacked.

'If I'm completely honest, I think Mei is a lot more powerful than Zabuza. And more observant. I couldn't have taken her down as easily as I did Zabuza.'

Aiko gave the Mist-nin an evaluative stare, even as she worked her small kit of kunai against a whetstone.

Would he be able to do what Mei had done? Even aside from defeating the Mizukage, could he hold the respect of a village?

She didn't know.

He certainly looked imposing, even if he did look a bit like he'd dressed in the dark. That was kind of an admirable caveat to overcome. It could be useful. It was stupid bullshit, but people did react differently to enormously muscled and angry men than they did to people who looked like Aiko. Ninja weren't immune to that silliness.

'Should I even be doing this? I have no idea what kind of leader he is. It's hard to see how he could be worse than Yagura, but…'

Aiko wrestled with her conscience. If she got involved in Mist's internal affairs, didn't she have some kind of moral duty to not fuck them over? It was one thing to shrug, 'oh, that sucks', about people she'd never met. But if she'd been the one to change their lives for a selfish reason, that just seemed- no. She couldn't do that.

'Well. I have some time. I'll see what kind of person Zabuza is. If I don't like what I see, I'll just kill him and deal with Mei. No one else would know the difference, aside from Utakata, and he's not exactly the chattiest bastard around.'

Zabuza's irritated voice broke through her thoughts. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if there isn't a reason that you're staring at me and fondling your little toys."

"Ah." Aiko blinked down at her kunai, which was sparkling in a lovely way in the morning sun. It was perfectly sharp. "I see. Nothing personal." She slipped the weapon away, frowning at the necessity. She didn't like wearing the makeshift weapons pouch. It was either difficult to access or terribly unsubtle over civilian clothing. But she couldn't go to a fight like that completely without weaponry.

'I would do terrible things for a real holster and my shin and arm guards,' Aiko reminisced. 'And that mesh body armor. And boots. I wouldn't even care if the shirt and shorts were just flimsy crap. I'd feel more like me.'

Her companion must have noticed her frowning at her uninspired equipment and gear. "Don't you have that hunter nin outfit?" Zabuza gave her slacks and short-sleeved top a disdainful once-over. "What you have on is shit. It's not a civilian disguise, but it's not armor. Didn't anyone tell you that you need to do one or the other?"

'He's absolutely right.'

She couldn't let him get away with that.

Aiko gave him a condescending look, flipping her hair back. "What are your plans as Mizukage, other than critiquing my outfits?"

"Valid policy decision though it may be," Utakata added. He sat up. His hair lifted behind him in a cloud of knots. He blinked gummily. A hand went up to start picking out knots, as though this was routine.

'Oh.' Aiko felt her face pull into a demented grin without her permission. 'It was worth it. Sleeping on the ground like an animal was worth it, just to see that bedhead.'

"What is that awful face for?" Zabuza sounded like he didn't really want to know.

"I was worried that he was prettier than I am," Aiko explained vaguely. She let her expression settle into a haughty smirk. "He is. But my hair's better. It never does that."

"It frizzes in humidity," Utakata said mildly. "And your split ends are terrible." He was slipping his fingers through his hair quickly, tangles nearly defeated already. No wonder she hadn't seen that before. "I remain superior."

"Fuck you," Aiko rebutted pleasantly. "Zabuza?"

"I don't care about my hair," he spat. He hunched behind his sword defensively.

'I feel like I roll my eyes a lot more in the day I've known Zabuza.'

She valiantly kept her thoughts out of her tone. "Policies. I was asking about your policies. Goals. That kind of thing."

He narrowed his eyes at her. He pressed his lips even tighter together, until they formed a hard line.

Aiko let it drop. "Alright then." She gave one last stretch, and then swiveled her spine back to a more natural position. "We need a plan on how to deal with Gato and get Haku back. Don't you have some chuunin somewhere, too?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her hair brushed over her shoulder. Oh. Right. She needed to tie that back still. She slipped a hairband off her wrist and-

"We leave him." Zabuza bit out. He hefted his sword. "I don't give a shit about Gato. The Konoha fuckers can deal with him. As for Haku, he's useless to me."

Aiko stared, hair forgotten.

'That seems harsh.'

"He is your student, is he not?" Utakata surged to his feet, looking more like a wave than man. "As his teacher, you have a responsibility to him."

'Utakata's taking this personally.'

Zabuza snorted, an ugly, rough sound. "Teacher? I was never his teacher." He tapped his fingers mockingly against the hilt of his sword. "There's a reason I never trained him in this. He doesn't deserve this legacy. Besides." He turned away. "Little fucker moved in with Konoha as soon as I was gone, didn't he? He's a useless tool."

Something clicked in her head. Oh.

Utakata's pupils turned to slits, and the air began to smell like saltwater. "You are the disgrace. Traitor. Embarassment-"

"Catch up to me when your dog has calmed down," Zabuza shot over his shoulder. Then he leapt away.

Utakata snarled, twisting impotently.

Aiko reached out and didn't quite touch him. "It's fine."

"Fine?" He wheeled on her. Coral was crackling down his jaw. "He is a low and abhorrent creature. How can you condone this?"

'He looks like he's about to loose his demon.'

Carefully, she raised her hands to show her palms. The pacifying gesture seemed to shock Utakata. He blinked, focusing on her empty hands with intensity. Then he subsided, the pale fury beginning to recede. His pupils swelled. The coral fell away. Morning songbirds began peeping again. Aiko hadn't even noticed that they'd stopped.

"I apologize," he said stiffly. "I was… not myself."

'I think you were.'

"Zabuza is proud," Aiko said, instead of acknowledging Utakata's loss of control. "He views emotional attachment as a weakness."

"That does not excuse his behavior," Utakata said quietly.

She nodded. "It doesn't. But I'm not making excuses for his coldness. I'm saying that he wasn't telling the truth, because he doesn't want us to know that he cares for Haku."

Utakata blinked. His mouth opened the slightest fraction. His brows furrowed.

"He doesn't want to take Haku to Mist." Aiko crossed her arms. "He's glad that Konoha took him in. Haku is young and strong, and Konoha is notoriously soft. He thinks that Haku will be happier and better treated there than Zabuza can promise him."

The reasoning made an uncomfortable amount of sense. If Zabuza were to lose his fight against the Mizukage, his companions would die as well. Zabuza didn't want that for Haku. Zabuza recognized that even if the coup went perfectly, Mist was still dangerous and volatile. People who might not dare lash out at Zabuza might think Haku was a fair replacement. It was sort of traditional to kill the vassal to send a message.

Utakata relaxed, but he managed a scowl. "Zabuza-san is still an ass."

Aiko blinked twice. Um. "That's fair," she agreed. "He's not particularly charming. But I'm starting to think that he generally means well."

He focused on her, eyes narrowed. "Perhaps he will not be an abominable Mizukage. Do you care? Or does his ascension merely support your aims?"

'I could stand to be honest with him. It won't matter.'

"I'm trying to find out what kind of leader he is," Aiko admitted. "If I don't think he'll do well enough, I'll kill him and let Mei take over. I'm not interested in putting another violent lunatic in charge of people's lives."

Utakata hummed incomprehension. He closed his eyes. "I see."

She shifted her weight uncomfortably. She rolled her ankle around, digging her toes in the dirt.

He still didn't say anything.

"Right." Aiko bent over to pick up her pack. "I suppose I should get going, then." She cleared her throat, feeling strange and unhappy. "It was… You weren't a terrible partner. 6/10, would do again if I had no other options."

"I give you 5/10," Utakata replied. His eyes flicked open, dispassionately watching her gather her belongings. "Your strange competency is at odds with your occasional bouts of lunacy and inexplicable decisions that seem to have no basis in situations at hand. However, you have some time to improve your score."

She stilled. "Oh?"

Utakata looked away. "You and Zabuza-san will need someone of reasonable intelligence, if you truly insist on leaving behind Haku-san. I shudder to think of what you might inflict on the unsuspecting populace without supervision."

Aiko flung an arm over his shoulder. "I like you too."

He reached out and tripped her.

Konoha, two months later.

"This Hikari-san was a kunoichi, you say?" The Sandaime frowned. "An associate of Zabuza's?"

'If so, she was a terrible ally. Digging up his body indicates investment in his death. Maybe a bounty hunter. Of course, that doesn't explain getting involved in Gato's affairs.'

Kakashi shook his head. "I didn't get that impression. I believe that she was the one who killed him, though I did not receive confirmation." He glanced at his genin. "What did you think?"

Sakura squeezed the fingers laced behind her back. "Hikari-san seemed very competent," she started uncertainly. "She did express sentiments that- that might make more sense in the context of a kunoichi. She attempted to advise me."

The Sandaime's face was dark.

"Nothing strange!" Sakura hastened. "Nothing, um. Treasonous. Just little things, about not letting the boys run off and leave me with chores."

He didn't say anything, but the oppressive air lifted. "I see. Naruto?"

The boy shrugged. "Hikari-san seemed alright to me. She was clumsy a lot, but she liked to help Tsunami-san. She was always cooking or something when she was at the house."

"Clumsy?" The hokage seemed slightly amused.

"Yeah." Naruto put a hand on his hip. "The first time I met her, she dropped her tea. And one time, she was bringing food to us while we worked and she almost fell down."

"That wasn't clumsiness," Sasuke retorted, rolling his eyes. The 'idiot' was unspoken, but heard loud and clearly. "Her eyes lost focus and her body leaned forward. She was lightheaded, probably from overexertion."

Kakashi sighed. "Sasuke-kun believes that Hikari-san was likely a civilian," he explained dryly. "Sasuke, I fought her. She's definitely a kunoichi."

"Ehhh?" Sakura perked up. "When-"

"Why?" Naruto burst out.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "The night you walked her home. She didn't come back after that."

'And isn't that strange?'

It had been what he wanted, but he hadn't really expected that she would never return. But the bridge was finished, and she had never shown her face again. If she'd truly been invested, why?

"Was she any good?"

Everyone looked at Sakura for that question. She flushed pink and looked at her feet.

"She was…"

'Fast. Angry at me personally. She fights a little like I do.'

Kakashi trailed off. Then he plastered on a bright, fake smile. "Maa, she beat me."

The Sandaime fumbled with his pipe, nearly dropping it onto his desk.

The room was dead silent.

'It's highly suspicious that a shinobi of that level was completely unknown to me. How? Who trained her? A Konoha nin?'

Kakashi rubbed at the back of his neck. "She stopped when she realized I wasn't going to dodge in time. Then she called me names." He frowned, faintly puzzled. "Including a vegetable." That still didn't make sense.

'The fact that she panicked when she thought she nearly hurt me, though. That's interesting. It's hard to reconcile that with the way she took down Zabuza. Does she count herself as a shinobi of Uzushiogakure? We are still technically allied. That might explain why she restrained herself around Konoha nin.'

"I see." The Sandaime was serious, now. "This is no ordinary missing nin, then. If she is a shinobi of such caliber, then she should not be unheard of."

"She claimed not to be a missing nin," Kakashi offered. He continued at the politely incredulous eyebrow his superior raised. "I thought she was lying," he admitted easily. "But now, I'm not certain. I don't believe she's a threat, Sandaime-sama."

At least, not directly.

The old man leaned back. "Oh? And why is that."

Kakashi glanced at his team, wondering again if the hokage would decide to keep the probable relation from Naruto. "She was in Wave for personal reasons that were not disclosed. I believe that she was the masked ninja who opposed Gato before our arrival. I do not feel that I can offer insightful speculation into her motivations at that point. However, she developed an interest in our team."

The Sandaime glanced at the genin. Sakura stood a little straighter. Sasuke continued watching the wall behind the hokage, but he tensed. Naruto was scratching at his leg with the toes of his other foot.

None of them looked remotely ready to risk near dangerous foreigners with unknown motivations.

"Yes, that is why I concluded she had to go," Kakashi elaborated carelessly. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Maa, she admitted to my face that she was attached to one of the genin because they shared similarities with someone she used to know."

And didn't that just open all sorts of possibilities? She hadn't even claimed it had been someone she'd loved. She could have been out for vicarious revenge on an Uchiha, or Minato-sensei, or Kushina-san. They'd all had bitter enemies.

The Sandaime easily caught his insinuation and hid whatever surprise he felt. "That sounds like an excellent reason not to trust this person," the hokage pointed out dryly. "We do not know her motivations or history."

Kakashi hesitated a little. "I think I know some of it," he said slowly. "I had- the first time that I saw her, I noticed a strong physical resemblance. And in our fight, she used a technique that I am familiar with."

The Hokage held up his hand. He inhaled deeply on his pipe and breathed smoke in to the room. His gaze trailed over each genin, thoughts transparent. Sakura-chan was civilian born. Sasuke-kun had only one living relative, and Kakashi wouldn't fail to recognize Itachi. The Hokage offered a guess. "Was it a sealing technique, perhaps?"

Naruto flinched.

"In a manner of speaking," Kakashi hedged. "Chakra chains."

The Hokage nodded slowly, laying his pipe down. "An Uzumaki, then." He said it carelessly, as though he had never considered hiding the information. He met Kakashi's eye, ignoring the open shock on the genin's faces. "I wonder… You said a strong resemblance- to-"

"Yes, to her," Kakashi agreed quickly. He didn't dwell on the hints of Minato he'd seen in her face. He didn't. It was illogical. Seeing Kushina made some sense, however. "Red hair. Slight build." He huffed wryly. "Temper, too."

"Not the traditional red shade, was it?" the Sandaime asked, leaning forward. "A little lighter, perhaps?"

A line appeared on Kakashi's brow. "Yes."

He didn't ask how the Sandaime knew, but the old man answered anyway. "I believe that you are not the first Konoha team to encounter this young lady." He nodded at the door. "Sakura-chan, would you mind asking my secretary for the mission report filed by Maito Gai four months ago, regarding an encounter with two rogue ninja?" As the girl left, he explained. "One of his genin produced rather handy resemblances. The male has already been identified. The young lady, however…" He trailed off. "Perhaps."

"Old man!" Naruto burst out, patience tested. "What do you mean? Who does she look like?" He turned his eyes on Kakashi. They were watering.

'I wouldn't have told him. This will only make things worse, if Hikari-san turns out to be an untrustworthy person.'

It was an effort not to wince.

"Naruto-kun," the Sandaime said sternly. "You are an adult, are you not? Surely you understand that there will always be things you do not know."

Against all odds, that did the trick. Naruto closed his mouth with a click of teeth and looked down at the floor. His bangs hid his expression.

'But he should know. He should know his mother's name. He should have grown up with her.'

Guilt settled heavily in his gut.

Sakura walked back into the room, holding a file.

The Hokage nodded to her. "Thank you, my dear. Would you look at the third page?"

She flipped it open. Her eyes widened. "Definitely her," Sakura agreed, angling the paper so that her teammates could see as well. "She wears civilian clothing even when she's on a mission, then?" She narrowed her eyes, glancing between the sketch and her blonde teammate critically.

"I guess," Naruto agreed softly. He was staring intensely at the sketch, fingers nearly reaching out to touch.

Sasuke huffed. He was looking away. "That seems impractical."

Unless a ninja had no need for armor or traditional gear.

Kakashi met the Sandaime's eyes, wondering the same thing. The jounin shrugged casually, even though no one was looking. "Maa, some shinobi do that. Tsunade-sama, for instance."

"As well as Hikari-san's partner," the Sandaim added slowly. "She was seen with a former Mist-nin known as Utakata."

'The rogue mist jinchuuriki? That's concerning. Could he have been around? Could it be that she has an interest in jinchuuriki?'

Kakashi startled at that. "I saw no sign of him."

"Perhaps they separated," the Sandaime proposed doubtfully. "However. Two incidents gives us a bit more to work with in terms of constructing a personality profile. Team seven. I would like you to complete as detailed a report on this person as possible, then read the account from team 9. See what consistencies and tendencies you can find." He fixed his stare on Kakashi. "You have a month. After that, the village will be otherwise occupied."

Right. The Chuunin exams. They would need all jounin working on security then. Kakashi nodded, even as he herded his genin out.

"Of course, Sandaime-sama."

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

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disasterghaster-moved · 2 years ago

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3 5 7

q’s for muses who had a… r o u g h childhood

3. what triggers does your muse have from their childhood?

I've mentioned before that Dekronian society has a 'native' and 'non-native' distinction that affects sociological class divides. It's not as concrete as our world's modern distinction between 'white' and 'non-white'. Particularly if the individual is wholly native or wholly non-native. Those groups are just seen as different, but easily integrate provided traditionally positions of authority aren't infringed on by any non-native that has not be fully generationally integrated.

This explanation to say that for some fucking reason native dekronians (and some particularly conservative non-natives) view intermixed proginay as something awful or unnatural. There's a sentiment that the streams shouldn't cross. Particularly if the non-native side of things hasn't had that generational integration.

And all that ONLY applies if you have the backing of those that are in power or care about you as offspring. Alanna gets away with being mixed with a very new non-native population only because of her mother and the authority and power behind the native half of her family. She still has to prove herself frequently to those that disapprove.

And Devang, who became and war orphan and then a slave, was just considered an undesirable. Lacking those 'protections'. So if you call her something derogatory like 'mutt' or 'mongrel'--it's triggering. Even after all this time, it inspires a certain sort of feral and visceral reaction. Because she was treated even worse that most others around her in an already shitty situation. It was often thrown at her even when she was finally a free-person in the military. It's a flash point word.

Thankfully, most people on Terran Earth don't have this same way of treating people. And when she tells people her background enough to explain her mixed heritage--no one really cares. Hell, half of them seem to just boil her down to, inaccurately, a weird cat space person. Which suits her fine.

In some ways, not being called derogatory things about her heritage on a regular basis has probably made her more sensitive to it than before. Because it's more of a shock. No longer having to brace against it.

She also doesn't wear chokers or bracelets as such items would likely remind her of her time enslaved. Oddly, though, she sometimes ponders wearing a muzzle for comfort???

Possibly, if someone forcefully cut her hair she might have a triggered event of some sort, but none has ever tried. She's always had control of her hair since she was a free-person.

Most other things about her childhood are long faded and replaced with more recent traumas from her young adulthood to present. Time doesn't heal, but it does make for a fuzzy memory and mind.

5. has your muse ever been officially diagnosed with ptsd, c-ptsd?

She has. She had seen all of two seperate psychologists for short periods of time. Though at least one of them was out to harm her, they both offered insights that were accurate to avoid suspicions.

She absolutely has Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and has Schizoaffective Disorder. Before that point she had been aware something was wrong with her, but never had the words for it.

7. how old was your muse when they realized they had childhood trauma?

About Roka's age, honestly. Or a little after. You would think she'd realize it as it was happening, but she'd shut down in a lot of ways until well after she was a free-person AND AWOL from the military.

She knew she wasn't alright and that she'd been through a LOT of adversity up to that point, but she didn't start looking at it (rather than just blurting out to other people) until she got enough roots to sit down and think about it. And when she did, she didn't know what to do with it. So she coped very poorly--much similar to Roka.

She understands it a lot better now. Not because of the therapists, but because she has looked into books and such in her own time. Google searches and things.

Everything mostly sits there in boxes she's made for it mentally. But she doesn't have the skills or the real know how to do more than that. Or more than how to manage it better than if she didn't read books and articles. It's a flawed situation for her.

But it's also hard to find a psych doc or therapist that she can both trust and can capably handle nearly 10k years of extreme fuckery both from my backstories of her and the 20ish years of RP events, lmao.

#ooc

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moki-dokie · 12 days ago

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I applaud max for keeping this tradition alive, which i can only imagine dates back to pre-historic times, since i can't imagine any form of humanity where tweens aren't being little hellions to adults in various hilarious ways.

for me? we had this too. we had our own max. i feel like every class has at least one. the charisma is just too strong with them that no matter what, you wind up following their silly antics. especially when it's harmless.

our max was - we'll call him jeremy. this was also, coincidentally, 7th grade. maybe there's just something about 7th graders specifically. anyway. randomly one day in class - i can't remember if it was math or history tbh - jeremy just decided to meow every time the teacher's back was turned. and every time the teacher would ask about it, jeremy, quite seriously, would say "i think there's a cat in the ceiling" while looking up rather concerned. obviously the teacher wasn't buying it, but what can you do. fast forward a few weeks and suddenly half the class is in on it. nobody has been asked to do it. it's evolved from cat in the ceiling to cat in the walls to cat trapped underneath the floors, somehow. every time someone meows, the class begins SO worriedly looking for the source. teacher is annoyed and a little baffled. fast forward again a few months. the way our classrooms were set up in this school were "pods" which was like a semi-circle of 5 rooms that were all linked together. Mostly separated but there was a doorless entrance between each one so teachers could easily go between rooms for whatever they needed. this also meant that, sometimes, if one of the classes were being particularly loud you could hear them with ease. Or, if you happened to be sitting very near that entryway, you just had to speak up a little and they'd hear you next door. jeremy happened to have a class nextdoor to history/math teacher as well. he began meowing from the next room. and SOMEHOW, we all knew he wasn't fucking with THIS room's teacher (english, if I recall), it was specifically to fuck with the other guy. it's like a fucking hivemind, i swear. because sure enough, we started hearing students in the next room do the usual "the cat is in the ceiling!!" bit, while those of us in english were silent as could be. Of course that english teacher had a brow raised at us as well, but because we had no reaction to it she didn't really seem to think much of it. again, we just sort of. knew what to do as one unit. meows were coming from english and from math/history even when jeremy was in neither room. we carried the bit on all day long, every single day. (admittedly, english teacher was getting pretty fed up with it, so kids had to be pretty sneaky.) well eventually we kinda... broke him. LOL in retrospect i realize it was rather shitty of us to continue doing it when he'd asked so many times to stop but i mean, that's tweens for you. especially tweens of the early 00s. we weren't quite the nightmare goblin children of the decades previous, but we were far from being as enlightened as today's youth is. poor guy had a full on tantrum at the class, screaming and crying (with frustration, as one does) to the point the whole damn pod could hear him, and every teacher came out to go check on him. (in his defense, this was his first year teaching. i don't think he was quite prepared for the weird psychological warfare tweens can wage.)

we had a very serious talking to from both the principal and counselor the next day to cut the shit out or else they'd start doing sweeping punishments for every single student in class since no one would fess up (and, realistically, since it was a group effort lol). so for a little while, the meowing ceased and everything went back to normal. but near the end of the school year, like the last couple of weeks, jeremy started it again, and so did everyone else LOL luckily by then the teach could laugh it off along with the rest of us, realizing kids are gonna be kids and are gonna be annoying and dumb.

but it was a very odd thing to have pulled off with 0 communication. and as far as i know, nobody ever talked about it much outside of "yeah so this happened in class today". jeremy was just cult-leadery enough we were able to take his lead and run with it.

i think 7th graders have special powers.

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gohan1 · 2 days ago

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[Chapter 18]

"You are so mean, Chifuyu. I make an effort to greet you since we are both members of Toman, but you don’t seem pleased to see me at all. You’ve kind of broken my heart, man."

Hanma did not even attempt to sound serious; he grinned from ear to ear, speaking with a playful tone. When he placed his hand on his chest, he appeared pained for a moment, but then he quickly transformed it into a smirk. Hanma definitely enjoys mocking Chifuyu. As the boy with blond hair clenched his teeth in irritation and moved closer to Hanma, it resembled a confrontation between a little cat and a giant dog.

You do not know the extent of Chifuyu's fighting skills, but it is unlikely that he would have the upper hand against a tall person like Hanma. He has a lanky figure, but this should not be a reason to underestimate Hanma; as you clearly saw back then in the alley, he is more than just a capable fighter.

"Why should I be happy to see a piece of shit like you? Do you think I am unaware of what Kisaki and you are planning to achieve?"

You are surprised that Chifuyu does not feel intimidated at all. Other people would freak out after seeing Hanma's tattoos of "sin" and "punishment" on his hands, but Chifuyu is not scared in the slightest. Maybe he is used to dealing with all sorts of scary-looking hoodlums. Regardless, you admire him for his confidence.

Wait, did Chifuyu just mention Kisaki? Is that the same Kisaki you spoke to the other day? He did not seem to be a bad person, so you were a bit taken aback to hear that he apparently works together with Hanma. Obviously, they are in the same gang, so there is no reason to be suspicious that they are acquaintances. However, Chifuyu hates Hanma, so you concluded that he is also not particularly fond of Kisaki. But what is the plan to which Chifuyu refers?

You believed that Mikey would refrain from including people with malicious intentions in his gang. Were you mistaken in this belief? It cannot be true that Mikey would willingly cooperate with people who have crazy mindsets. It is possible that Mikey is unaware of the true intentions of some of his members.

"Man, I have no idea what you're talking about," Hanma said with a bored shrug.

“And besides..." Hanma continued to speak, his golden eyes shifting their focus to you. "Your girlfriend feels uncomfortable," he added, chuckling a little as he watched you fidget awkwardly in your chair, playing with your fingers.

“She is not my g-girlfriend, just a friend,” Chifuyu corrected, stuttering slightly and having a light flush on his face.

Hanma didn't respond right away; his expression was like a puzzle, giving nothing away about what he was thinking. Then he glanced at you again, and a smirk began to creep onto his face. "Oh really, is that so?“

“Now listen up. I don’t understand why you’re here, but you’re annoying me. And don't even think about involving [Name] in your shitty plans.“

It only took Chifuyu a moment to regain his composure after Hanma made him blush by referring to you as his girlfriend.

“Being all protective, huh? You really seem to like her a lot. Guess I wasn't totally off calling her your girlfriend~“

You felt awkward.

“[Name], right? Maybe we’ll get a chance to see each other again,” he laughed as he reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, took one out, and lit it. He held the cigarette between his fingers, leaned in a bit closer to kneel down slightly, and blew the smoke in your face. As you cough and frown from the smoke you accidentally inhaled, Chifuyu does not waste a second. He quickly calls out to Hanma with a shout and swings his fist at him. His opponent easily blocked Chifuyu's punch with one hand while still holding the cigarette in the other hand, taking another puff.

"So dull."

"Hah?!" Chifuyu yelled, choosing to kick at him while Hanma was still holding onto his hand tightly. In the end, Hanma had to throw his cigarette to the ground so he could cover his face with his arms. Even though Chifuyu put all his strength into the attack, Hanma only got a small bruise on his forearm.

"Still weak."

Chifuyu's eyes widened.

Hanma sighed loudly because he was bored, then chose to hit back. Suddenly, Hanma's fist hit Chifuyu's face, and Chifuyu didn't have enough time to step back or protect himself. He landed hard on the ground and rolled over, groaning in pain. Hanma was so strong that he didn't even need to use all his power to throw Chifuyu to the ground.

You were completely shocked, your mind struggling to understand what just happened in an instant. When you noticed tiny spots of blood on the ground, you felt really scared. Chifuyu's face was badly bruised, and blood was coming from his nose. The scene reminded you of Haruchiyo when you saw Mikey force his mouth open and blood spilled onto the ground. Even though this happened when you were kids, you can't forget it now that you know the boy you saw a few months ago is the same one from back then.

You were really frightened when you first saw Mikey acting so violently, and you couldn't even help Haruchiyo, who was a stranger to you at the time. So, you chose to run away. But now it's different. You are still scared, but it's not as terrifying as when you saw Mikey hurt Haruchiyo so badly. Also, this time it's a friend who is hurt right in front of you. The only reason Chifuyu stood up to Hanma was because he was disrespectful to you. Chifuyu is worried that Hanma might hurt you.

Chifuyu knows that Hanma would not hesitate to hurt a girl, so he quickly jumped in to protect you. But the truth is, Hanma just wanted to have a litte fun with you. Kisaki said you need to trust him, and for that to happen, Hanma has to keep his distance and not hurt you. Kisaki knows that Hanma would not be able to change his attitude to make you believe he is a nice person. A direct confrontation between you and Hanma would automatically distance you from Kisaki. There is no way you would want to be friends with Kisaki when the partner he is working with is someone like him.

However, since Hanma can be a total asshole at times, he did not listen to Kisaki and approached you.

He wants to understand why Kisaki chose to involve you in his plans. When Kisaki talked to Hanma the day after meeting you and Mikey at the restaurant, he explained to Hanma that you seem to be really important to Mikey. Because of this, Kisaki believes you could be a key player in his strategy. If you support Kisaki and tell Mikey that he deserves to be by his side in a leadership role, there’s a good chance Mikey would agree to promote Kisaki. He thinks that with your help, he could achieve his goals in just 8 years instead of 10, making it easier for him to become the top leader.

When Hanma saw you with Chifuyu, he couldn't help but wonder why you seemed to catch Mikey's attention and why Kisaki was interested in you. To be honest, Hanma was kind of disappointed because you looked like an ordinary girl, which made him think you might be dull. He really hates boredom. At first, he was eager of corrupting you because Kisaki had mentioned how important you were, but that excitement disappeared when he realized you seemed uninteresting. He felt like he was wasting his time. Hanma wanted to leave before things got really boring. He thought he should tell Kisaki that it wasn’t worth his time dealing with someone so unexciting—

"Wait!"

Hanma was so deep in thought that he didn't notice you standing in front of him, with your arms outstretched. Behind you, Chifuyu was still on the ground, trying to get back on his feet. You lifted your head to meet his golden eyes. Your body was trembling, and your legs felt weak, struggling to hold you up. You didn’t want Chifuyu to get hurt any worse, so you had no choice. You needed to face Hanma head-on to stop him. Right now, your priority was keeping Chifuyu safe, even if it meant putting yourself in danger.

You have not known Chifuyu for very long, but you realized he is a good person when you confronted him after you ran away from Haruchiyo, who had treated you like shit. Now, Chifuyu has decided to protect you from Hanma, not wasting a second to take action.

How could you leave him behind?

You need to help him in the same way that he helped you. You know this is obviously easier said than done because you are still shaking with fear, your body uncontrollably sweating. Hanma's eyes grew wide for a second, and then he raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. He didn’t expect you to stand up for your friend like that. A girl of average height challenging someone much taller than her? On top of that, he is a skilled fighter, while you seem like someone who could not even harm a fly. Should Hanma be impressed that you chose to protect Chifuyu, even though you're at a big disadvantage? It seems a bit foolish, but still...

You have his full attention.

"[Name], what are you doing?! Hurry up and get out of here before it's too late!"

Chifuyu managed to stand up, despite being in intense pain from Hanma's powerful punch.

"It's okay. He...won't hurt me."

"A-Are you sure? Because the stickman over there looks like he wants to hurt you."

Hanma grinned at the nickname Chifuyu had given him.

"He's right. Why are you so sure I wouldn't hurt you the same way? Just because you're cute~?

Hanma began to laugh as he reached into his pocket again to light another cigarette. Your face reddened when he called you "cute," but you tried not to let it faze you too much. At the same time, Chifuyu walked up to you and tried to grab your hand to urge you to stand behind him, but after you spoke your next words, he froze in place.

"Because Mikey wouldn't like that"

Silence.

"Are you threatening me?"

You swallowed.

It was hard to tell if he was mad at you since he had a closed-mouth smile and was still smoking. You couldn’t help but wonder why he was smoking, especially since he was still so young, but now didn’t seem like the best moment to bring it up. You felt a wave of fear wash over you, and the fact that he wasn’t showing any anger made it all the more unsettling.

Was it a stupid idea to bring up Mikey's name? You regretted it as soon as you spoke. You wished you had said something else, but the words had already come out of your mouth. Mikey has assured you that he is always there for you, so you are confident he would be angry at Hanma for hurting you. There is no doubt about it.

Hanma actually has no intention of harming you. In fact, he finds it quite amusing to see a cute girl standing up to him. He realizes he made a mistake by hitting Chifuyu so hard, but Chifuyu was overly confident, leaving Hanma with no choice but to demonstrate who is in charge. He did not consider the consequences of this action.

First of all, if you tell Mikey that Hanma punched his teammate Chifuyu, there is a high chance that Mikey will be furious with Hanma, and in the worst-case scenario, he might even kick Hanma out of the gang. Furthermore, there is a significant possibility that Mikey would assign a different person to lead the third division alongside Kisaki. This could impact Kisaki's ability to execute his plans without raising suspicion, as the new vice-leader will likely keep a closer watch on him.

Overall, Hanma completely messed it up. However, it was worth it as he had the great opportunity to witness one of the vice-division leaders being beaten up, especially by his own hands. Chifuyu stood beside you, staring with an open mouth. He was shocked when you used Mikey's name to threaten Hanma. Since Mikey is the leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang and also the strongest person he knows in his entire life, no one would dare to mess with him.

Everyone is scared of Mikey. However, he does not want you to be afraid of him.

"Uh... I do not want you to lose your position, even though you hurt your teammate. I am not particularly fond of the idea of snitching on others, so I will not say a word to Mikey about this matter, but only if you apologize to Chifuyu kun." You spoke, your voice wavering, desperately clinging to your courage as his golden eyes bore into you, sending shivers down your spine—enough to make your heart race with both fear and an overwhelming urge to protect what you felt was right.

Hanma and Chifuyu were both taken aback and shot each other a surprised look.

"[Name] chan, are you being way too nice to this jerk? Honestly, I don’t even want his dumb apology—he should be apologizing to you! This motherfucker blew his cigarette smoke in your face. You're not even involved in our conflict with one another."

"It is not a big deal. You are the one who is hurt because of him, so he should apologize to you. I understand that an apology is not enough, but it is still better than allowing him to simply walk away."

Chifuyu didn't say a word. He just nodded slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on you.

"Aww, you are so nice. I totally didn't mean to hit Chifuyu, my hand just slipped, you know? And thanks for not ratting me out to Mikey. You saved my ass."

While you appeared somewhat content with Hanma's answer, Chifuyu, on the other hand, looked as though he wanted to slap him. However, since your gaze was directed at Hanma, you were unable to see Chifuyu's irritated expression.

"Can I leave now?" Hanma asked with a little smirk, crushing his cigarette under his foot.

"Y-Yes."

Hanma walked past you but stopped for a second in his tracks.

"It was still nice to meet you...Take care, [Name] chan~"

Hanma gave you a wink and walked away, paying no attention to Chifuyu, who was clenching his teeth in anger.

It felt strange. Your heart raced when he said your name; his deep voice was captivating.

When Hanma advised you to take care of yourself, he meant it sincerely. You do not know what the future holds for you. Kisaki will use you for his own benefit in his quest for power. Typically, Hanma does not concern himself with others and their fates, as evidenced by Baji, who died because of Kisaki's manipulation that led Kazutora to kill him. Kisaki is a cruel person, and Hanma finds his cruelty entertaining. However, somehow Hanma hopes that Kisaki will not harm you.

Hanma does not want you to die. Although today is the first time he has seen you, he still wants you to be alive.

There is something about you that makes you unique. He is beginning to understand why Mikey is interested in you. The thought of the possibility of meeting you again amuses him. He cannot pinpoint what makes him want to know more about you at this moment. The only person he is genuinely curious about is Kisaki, but you have also piqued his interest.

Hanma might experience even more excitement with you nearby.

Your flushed face is amusing. Also, you're quite cute.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" Hanma muttered.

"Whom are you talking to?" Kisaki asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

"Nah, it's nothing. What's the next plan, Kisaki?~"

#kisaki tetta #shuji hanma #chifuyu matsuno #female reader #tokyo revengers #fanfiction

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biologicalmassofrubber · 29 days ago

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I'm just prefacing this ranty Post. I know I don't really post much and one of the benefits of all my friends moving away from Tumblr years ago is that I can post what I want without anyone I know irl seeing it but if you do see these posts I put on every now and then...I'm sorry.

A friend of mine is married to a nice Dutch lady. We only live down the road from each other and they've recently been inviting me over for tea and to do stuff together.

It's nice, but honestly. Part of me hates it because even though I only see, like a sliver of their life, they look like they've got it made. They've got two cats and share a pc gaming room together. They tease each other and like prank each other and it's always so cute. I wish I could have even a spec of what they have. But it just feels impossible and it's not fair.

Thing is, I wasn't even particularly close to my friend before they got married, she even said herself that she invites his friends over partially because she likes being a host but also to make him socialise more lmao (which he does, but our friend group spend most of our time together online which she couldn't get her head around since we all lived so close at some point which is fair enough, downsides to living in shitty areas and untreated Symptoms ™ ig)

Idk, she's inviting me over to cook this week because I was talking about wanting to learn but I can't due to a shitty home situation. It's nice but I just feel pathetic about the whole thing lmao.

#i should probably put these in tags instead

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specialagentartemis · 2 years ago

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clonerightsagenda said: please tell me more about the clone @consolecadet said: 👀

Reel you in with Clone Angst huh :)

YEAH this was kind of a spinoff of an old NaNoWriMo novel that never got finished about a kind of shitty run-down cyberpunk future + a recent idea about treating body-mods like tattoos, in that there are Trends and very different connotations based on what kind you have and how rich you are

The four main characters are,

Tanith, the fabled "good cop" who saw police as upholding Law and Order in an increasingly corrupt and crappy world, and then when on the force tried to challenge the police abuses she was seeing actually happen. She got fired real fast and then the police have been hassling her ever since. Now she's a dockworker or something similar. She has tough, strength-augmenting cyborg mods from her time as a cop, though, because that's the next step in the Militarization of Police; on a police officer it's tough and scary and Respectable in a threatening I-have-power way, but they're similar mods that a lot of working-class physical-labor people get, so not on a cop, they're kind of a, oh you're sort of trashy and lower-class look. But her job pays fine, there's a union even if it's not a particularly effective one, there are long stretches of time she can listen to mediocre podcasts as she does her job, and it's not existentially fulfilling but it's respectable work that's not existentially soul-killing either unlike her old job as an officer. Her hobbies these days include keeping her head down and minding her own business because she will still get hassled if any of her old cop "buddies" are around.

Abby, her roommate and de facto best friend. Has a humanities degree in a world that does not value those at all. Works part-time in the local public library trying to keep it afloat, but they get hardly any funding; does freelance captioning/copyediting/video editing gigs to make ends meet, trying to stay ahead of machine learning that can do each gig more cheaply. She is trans and is saving up for gender affirming surgeries; this is like, Type 2 of body-modifications here. Not cyberpunk cyborg stuff, just... trans body modification for Gender Reasons that is also out of reach. (Dream goals also include cat ears, though. She's trans, she's been body-modding slowly through hormones for ages, if she gets up the money for surgery she is also gonna try to get cat ears.)

Tanith's Ex-Police-Partner, still on the police force, considers what Tanith did a betrayal and really resents her. Has cooler, tougher cyborg strength-augmenting body-mods. Cyborg cop because ballooning police budgets get put somewhere. On-and-off in contact with Tanith, trying to get her to repent. Apologize. Absolve her.

And Clone Girl who I haven't settled on a name I like for, 17 and cute and who Abby meets when she seems to be living at the library. She has no obvious mods at all, but has rich-people genetic tweaks like flawless skin and hair, and she looks distinctively like one of the Obscenely Wealthy CEO Types in the city. So, she's from a rich family, but also homeless and afraid. What gives.

When it becomes obvious Clone Girl is living at the library and refuses to go to any of the (underfunded, understaffed, overcrowded) shelters in the city, Abby offers to put her up in the apartment she and Tanith share for a while.

However, Tanith's Ex Partner (and whole Ex Force) is looking for a suddenly Missing Person, the daughter of Rich CEO.

Somehow it comes out that Clone Girl is... a CLONE! (shocking twist). Not Rich CEO's natural daughter, but a clone, who was created and raised so that aging Rich CEO can transfer her brain into Clone Girl's body and be young again. Clone Girl is a body mod. Or... was. She found out about the plan somehow, and understandably not wanting her brain to be scooped out before her 18th birthday, ran away. But having grown up relatively secluded, she wasn't encouraged to develop a personality because she'd never get to grow into it anyway, or much knowledge about the world because a docile idiot is the ideal Clone Body, she doesn't really know what to do about that. (The reason they have her awake at all is that previously they tried to grow a body in a vat but it turns out to have a healthy body humans need to like... move, and exercise, and get sunlight and touch.) And now there's a statewide missing person case because Rich CEO wants her unwilling body donor back and also doesn't want news of this plan to get out.

And uh Tanith and Abby are now harboring a teenager who will be killed if they send her back but they will super duper get arrested for kidnapping if they get found out. And Tanith's ex-policemates have no love for her and would LOVE for her to turn out to be a criminal and absolve themselves. Tanith has been avoiding doing things that would get her in trouble but she can't just avoid making decisions now.

It'd be a story about autonomy bodily and otherwise and also Clone Rights. I'm not sure where it goes from here but. I think about them sometimes.

#Artemis rambles #My OCs #'The devaluation and defunding of humanities and public services = the devaluation of human lives' is also a thing going on here #I love. stories set in cyberpunk dystopias that are just banal evil capitalism. with cyborgs and neon

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forgotten-retrouvaille · 3 months ago

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Jill didn't miss the other's approach to her at the bar - her head turned slightly as her arms rested folded on the counter. A part of her hated that Catalina always seemed to follow her thoughts everywhere - even dead , she couldn't escape the spy.

She would have thought this to be her , if she hadn't been so close to the area where Catalina had died . They looked uncannily similar, but the warmth that exuded from this woman was a far cry from the spy's usual demeanour , and Catalina wouldn't have been caught dead in a shitty bar like this, much less ordering whatever Cat had .

Jill's beer came shortly after , a tall pint glass placed down in front of her. She considered the other's words , her hands interlocked with each other - Catherine Chandler . Cat . Cat .

"Jill ."

Everything about this woman reminded her of that spy . The nickname that was so eerily similar , her appearance , all of it. It wasn't her though , and Jill let out an exhale as she turned towards her beer for a moment and took a swig .

"Ballet's never . . really been my thing ." She offered by way of explanation - she'd never particularly attended any of it. "I tend to get around a lot , though ."

She knew this woman because she reminded her of someone else, but she didn't know her . That's what she told herself, at least .

With the B.S.A.A. on her trail after Umbrella’s collapse and the string of missions Catalina Cisneros had taken, it had just been easier for her to start over. What better way to begin than with a blank slate? She could craft a new life for herself, and she’d done just that. Catalina Cisneros had become Catherine ‘Cat’ Chandler — the alliteration of her name was something she’d always liked. She’d dyed her hair a light shade of pink, and she balanced the freelance work she did — she only took on missions she found to be ethical now — with being a ballet instructor. Everything was going perfectly for her.

Catalina Cisneros tensed up as the door swung open. She knew that laugh. She knew that voice. This bar was one of the shittiest she’d been to in a long time, and while it might not have fit Catalina’s tastes or budget, it fit Cat’s perfectly. She smiled and gave a friendly wave to the woman who she knew so well when their eyes met before joining her at the bar.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but… you look familiar.” Catalina smiled brightly at Jill — an authentic smile, and one that Jill never would’ve imagined was coming from the spy. The news of a freelance spy in the area working against Umbrella was why the B.S.A.A. were here, but the authentic, warm demeanor she showed tonight made suspicion practically impossible.

She signaled to the bartender. She asked for some fruity little drink, and again, that didn’t fit with the woman Jill thought she knew. This life was more authentic than the one she’d lived before, and she had no regrets. When the drink was offered to her, a small umbrella — red and white striped, because of course it was — was placed in it, and with a push of her finger, it was sent spinning. Cat didn’t seem to notice anything interesting about the logo, and she took a sip of her drink.

“I’m Catherine Chandler, but you can call me Cat. Everybody does. I used to be a ballerina, but I just teach now. Maybe that’s how we know each other? Did you ever come backstage for a tour after a performance or anything like that?”

#pretty-isn't-pretty-enough #pretty isn't pretty enough #v. for the lost and forsaken #s: they know you walk like you're a god and they can't believe i made you weak | jill & catalina #٭ ❧ 𝐈 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 ⨳ roleplay.

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bakubub · 4 years ago

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In which racer!kuroo is your roommate, and seems to only like it when you treat his wounds... (word count: 1.9k)

Ngl quite proud of this one!!

Warnings: 18+, a whole lot of swearing, a whole lot of blood, innuendos and implied nsfw, reader almost vomits (NOT from pregnancy chill, I know we're all scarred but its going to be just fine) and if you're squeamish perhaps skip the scene where reader stitches his wound?

Also bit of a disclaimer: I am in NO WAY a med student and literally all of my knowledge is from movies and other fics... so if you acc know what to do in this situation this may be a torturous for you :D

All due credits go to @aikk00 for this AMAZING fanart!!!!

I watch as my roommate enters the penthouse, once again scratched up and bleeding, covered in so much blood there is no possible way that it was all his- if it was he would not be standing.

I launch myself off the couch- where I was sitting for the past hour nervously waiting for his return- and slip my arm under his, supporting him as we inched towards the bathroom.

"I can do this by myself you know," he grumbles, his grimace revealing just how much pain he was actually in.

"Mhm, I'm sure you can. Just like you boiled that poor egg by yourself last week, hmm?" I say sarcastically, trying to keep my mind calm and clear, because oh my god it looks really bad this time...

"Oi, its not my fault it fuckin' exploded," he mutters, voice laden with pain.

"You put it in the microwave because 'the shitty water wasn't doing its job.' Of course it would explode," I say, gently seating him on the closed toilet seat and taking out my supplies that I unfortunately have become rather accustomed to using. He's made it a habit to get himself injured.

"Where's the injury?" I ask, setting down my half-empty bottle of antiseptic and box of bandages. He peels off his shirt, cringing at the pain it brought him as the fabric was stuck to the gash that went from his left pectoral down to the middle of his chest.

"Pissed off a bidder after winning a race, fucker took out a knife once he realised he couldn't beat me up," he huffs out, arrogance still lacing his tone even with sweat dripping down his brow as he leans the back of his head onto the tile wall behind him. His Adam's apple bobs down his bloodstained neck as he speaks, and I quickly look away, focusing on the injury at hand.

Not his blood soaked, but nevertheless well defined pectoral muscles, nor the abs that my hands occasionally brush up against and know how hard they really are, and definitely not the trail of black hairs that lead down, down, down...

"What's wrong, the view too hot to focus on the work at hand?" He asks suggestively, raising his pierced brow, even in this state.

I'm quick to reply, having gotten used to his flirtatious remarks from the second I moved into his penthouse, "nope can't even see the view from that massive head of yours. Not to mention your permanent bed head."

He huffs out a laugh, then proceeds to flinch from the pain it must have caused.

"Stop moving, idiot. You're going to exacerbate the cut!" I say, quickly grabbing a damp towel and beginning to clean up his abdomen, whilst simultaneously pressing another rag to his wound to stop the bleeding.

“At least you admit that there is a hot view,” he says in his low voice, gazing at me from his position.

I simply roll my eyes.

No falling in love. That was the deal we had made on the day he offered me a place to stay in exchange for my services as a maid and apparently, a nurse. I cook, clean and basically keep the house running while this moron goes out and acts like the idiot he is. In my defense, dorms are expensive as hell, and his penthouse is nearby. Plus, I don't have to pay rent. It's a win-win situation.

But the feelings stirring up inside my heart might just ruin the dynamic we have going on and simultaneously take out a whole lot of cash out of my pocket.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Once his skin isn't completely saturated in blood, and the wound has (thankfully) stopped bleeding, I add some antiseptic onto a make-up pad and begin to dab at his wound, earning winces and slight grunts from the massive man.

"The cut looks deep, Kuroo. You need to go to the hospital," I say, worry lacing my tone as my eyebrows crease and earn yet another huffing laugh.

"Do you want me to rot in prison for the rest of my life?"

I roll my eyes at his response, deliberately dabbing just a little harder which earns me a yelp and an attempted glare in my direction.

"First off, illegal street racing won't send you to prison for your entire life, just for like, half a year. Second, this wound needs stitches, and believe it or not, I'm not a fucking licensed medic. In fact, the only experience I have is with you!" I say, immediately regretting my choice of words as I wait for his remark.

"That's what she said," He says, chuckling at his own innuendo.

I sigh in frustration, pouring more antiseptic to make sure there was no chance of infection from whatever grimy ass knife stabbed him, and beginning to gently scrub the wound with a soft towel, so as to make sure there was no debris left in there.

"You're gonna have ta do it," he mutters, his hazel eyes boring into mine.

"I- I can't Kuroo, you can't possibly think-"

"Fine. I'll do it. Go get me a needle and thread," he states, struggling but nevertheless, sitting upright on the red stained toilet.

I stare at Kuroo in disbelief as he utters these words. Was he dumber than I thought? Does he have some sort of head injury too?

I examine his face and all I come up with is unnerving determination. I exhale out of my nose sharply, "fine, dammit. I'll sew your fucking wound shut."

I am extremely handy with a sewing needle and thread, used to really be into embroidery back when I had the time so...it should be fine.

He just shrugs, leaning his head back against the tiles and closing his eyes.

"Fucking asshole. Can't believe I'm saving your damn life," I mutter, leaving the bathroom to dig through my wardrobe for my sewing box and taking out a gold silk thread that I was saving for a special project.

Well, I guess that will never happen.

"Hey, I found some silk thread. It's literally known for its strength and durability in high temperatures, so it should work like a charm!" I say, walking back into the blood stained bathroom and trying to psych myself up.

He grunts in response. I sigh as I begin with mopping up the excess blood and sanitising the needle and thread before chucking on gloves.

I wipe the antiseptic over the wound once more, and examine it carefully.

Well, if his condition worsens, I can always knock him out and call an ambulance...

I decide, screw it, and thread the needle, pretending it was just another embroidery project.

It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I chant as I puncture his skin with the thin needle.

Kuroo gasps in pain, and I place a hand on his knee, telling him to suck it up and deal with it, half talking to him but also to myself.

To my surprise, he listens, stretching his head back once more and gritting his teeth.

"Don't do that, here put this in-between your teeth," I say, grabbing yet another towel and shoving it into his mouth.

He obeys as I continue to stitch. I feel my gag reflex kicking in as I think about how stitching skin feels as though I am stitching leather, it feels hard and tough while pushing the thin needle through.

Must hurt like a bitch.

Once I've completed my neat stitches down the wound, without vomiting, I tie it off as I would with any embroidery, and clean the area free of any remaining blood. After rubbing some antibacterial ointment over the gold stitches, I stick on a particularly large bandage over the wound and start tidying up.

"Thank you," Kuroo mutters, still seated on the toilet seat and practically panting for breath.

"Ah, the criminal knows his damn manners!! Now get up and get in the damn shower. You ruined my pristine bathroom!" I complain, putting the last of the materials away before walking to the door.

"Wait, I- I can't get up." I turn around and look at him incredulously as he utters his next few words, "will you... shower me?"

My eyes just about pop out of their sockets at his request. "Are you insane?! I'm not your mother, nor your wife! Call your pudding haired friend and tell him to come shower you!"

He shakes his head, a rare pleading look taking the place of his usual arrogant smirk, "Kenma's too lazy to shower himself, Y/n, please!"

I contemplated it for a moment. Sure, I've seen him naked before, accidentally of course, and so what if I have to scrub him clean. God knows he can't do it himself with that damn injury.

Fuck this shit.

"Fine, get up right now." I bark at him, leaving to change out of my blood soaked pjs into a pair of shorts and a tank.

"...I just said I can't."

---

"Ow, y/n, you're scrubbing too hard!" He complains, his exfoliating glove around my hand as I rub his toned back clean of any dead skin-cells and blood remains.

"But look how much stuff is coming off!" I say gleefully, enjoying this a little too much.

Kuroo, seated on the built-in bench in the open shower with his red boxers on, looks back to see the satisfaction dripping from my features.

"Are you secretly a sadist?" he whispers. In response, I begin to rinse off his raw back with hot water, causing him to screech like a cat.

"It burns, it burns-”

“Shut the fuck up, moron! It's 4 in the morning, you’re going to annoy our neighbours. I tried very hard to get in their good graces, and Mrs. Suzuki still doesn’t like me! She definitely thinks I’m some kind of hooker…” Kuroo laughs at this, and I can’t help but watch as his whole face brightens up from his usual emotionless expression. I find myself smiling in response.

I grab his expensive shampoo and pour some into my hands, beginning to massage it into his scalp. With wet hair, his raven strands are for once flat on his head and reach down to his defined jawline. Kuroo groans under my touch, leaning into my fingers. I snatch my hands back and pour hot water over his head.

"ARGH! Y/N!" He screams, hastily getting up and wetting me in the process.

"Ah- what are you-" I don't get to finish my question as he grabs my arm and yanks me next to him under the hot water, soaking my clothes and my hair.

"You asshole!" I screech as I reach up to pull his hair in defiance, but he only grabs my arm and hooks it around his neck, leaning down to look directly into my eyes.

Our noses brushing against one another, he mutters, "You look pretty with your hair wet and your shirt see through."

It takes me a moment to get past the compliment and to hear the perverted comment that he just uttered.

He sees my look of confusion and laughs, bends over, clutches his stomach and laughs, before bellowing in pain because of his injury.

Smiling smugly down at him as he grimaces, I force him to sit back down and continue massaging the shampoo into his hair, warning him that if he so much as moaned I would leave him in here, dripping wet and in pain.

"That's what he said," is his reply.

I smack his head in response.

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu drabbles #racer!kuroo #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyu fics #haikyuu!!#kuroo x y/n #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo x gn!reader #kuroo x you

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beneathashadytree · 4 years ago

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STAY-AT-HOME HUSBAND DUTIES - REINER BRAUN X READER

Warnings : one very mildly suggestive comment, modern AU, Reiner is a dad to two kids, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : domestic fluff, I'm melting---

Word count : 1.1K words

Synopsis : Reiner, being the perfect stay-at-home husband, made his spouse look forward to coming home to him every night after a shitty day of work.

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

"Long day, huh."

Looking up from the shoes I was removing off my aching feet, I saw my husband leaning against the wall with a sympathetic look on his face. In response to his observation (which was probably based on the exhaustion apparent on my face), I nodded, pushing my shoes aside and taking off my coat.

"Here, let me help you," his voice was soft, a stark contrast from the loud cacophony of noises I'd been hearing all day at work, and I sent him a grateful half-smile as he took the liberty of hanging my coat up on the hanger.

I followed him as he walked into the kitchen, pulling out something from the oven. Stepping back to take a good look at him as he scooped some lasagne onto a plate, I just noticed that he was wearing that god-awfully-cheesy apron of his that had the words 'Kiss the cook!' inscribed in cursive at the front.

"Reiner, c'mere for a sec," I called out for him as soon as he was done setting up the microwave.

Leaning up and pressing my hand against his broad chest, I gave him a long, hard kiss that had him flushing red in seconds flat.

"Someone must've missed me."

I hummed, wrapping my arms around his torso, pressing a chaste kiss to his pecs once again, "Kept thinking of going back to my stay-at-home husband all day."

He chuckled lowly, ruffling my hair playfully, "You're just happy you have someone to cook for you and take care of the kids all day."

"Yeah, I don't need that kind of stress on top of my job," I grumbled as I jokingly admitted to my laziness, before we were interrupted by the microwave beeping.

My late dinner consisted of steaming food and having Reiner sit beside me, chatting idly about our day. It wasn't particularly eventful on either of our ends, but we were both equally tired, though for entirely different reasons.

Reiner, after he'd made the choice to never work again after returning from the military, had a much more difficult job, if you asked me. Taking care of two kids, cooking and cleaning, running errands, handling all bills and official documents---if anything, it felt as though I were nothing but a mere homemaker. I only paricipated in housework on weekends, and my sole input throughout the week was purely financial.

At first, it had put a certain strain on our relationship when we'd first moved in together while dating, but time and time again we'd reassured each other that---contrary to popular belief and stigma---this arrangement was the perfect compromise and set up for us. As long as our marriage and family grew happy, we were fine, so many nights were spent in this fashion as right now, but we had little to no complaints about it.

Lost in Reiner's story about what our youngest had done at pre-school today, a brush against my calf startled me a little, before a glance at my feet warmed my heart.

"Cherry must've missed me, huh?" I cooed, picking up the chubby snow-white cat and placing her on my lap, where she innocently blinked at me with blue eyes, before curling onto my lap.

Reiner smirked as he watched her paw at me teasingly, "Takes after me, I see, she likes your thighs."

"Exercise restraint, love."

The blonde laughed, kissing my cheek as he got up, taking the dishes with him, "You go ahead and shower. I'll get these done."

Feeling bad that he was taking care of a fully-grown adult, I followed after him, scooping a lazy Cherry in my arms, "Can I help?"

"Nah, it's fine. You deserve some rest before the kids wake you up at the ass crack of dawn like every Friday morning."

Dropping Cherry on the floor as quick as I could without waking her up from her half-slumber, I rushed out, groaning, "Shit, I forgot that tomorrow's Friday."

A good and long hot shower later, I was padding quietly across the floorboards in the kids' room. They were fast asleep in their beds (as expected of them; Reiner always made sure to tuck them in before 9, and it was near midnight now), and I felt my heart clench in my chest at the knowledge that I had yet again missed out on kissing them goodnight because of my stupid boss. Lowering myself over their still bodies, I pressed soft kisses to their foreheads, brushing the stray hairs back fondly as they slept on soundly, before retreating back to my room.

Reiner had already tucked himself to his side of the bed, and seemed to be invested in the book he was reading by his lamp light. Upon my entrance, he placed the bookmark where he'd paused and switched off the lights, settling down under the covers after setting the book down on his bedside table.

Climbing into bed, I scooted closer until I was nestled safely in his arms, with him tugging me closer to his chest until his heartbeat rested under my ear. Sighing in a mix of content and tiredness, my eyes shut of their own accord, and he kissed my temples gently, before adjusting his position.

"Love you," I mumbled, already half-asleep and on my way to dreamland, earning a small chuckle from Reiner.

"Love you too, sleepyhead."

***

Hours later when they were fast asleep and completely unaware of anything happening around them (probably thanks to the sheer exhaustion they'd been feeling since they'd stepped inside the house), Reiner was being shaken awake by a small hand.

"Daddy?"

Bleary eyes opened as he tried to blink away sleep (being a heavy sleeper himself), pulling himself away from his spouse's cuddles and pushing himself up with one arm at the sound of the weak voice calling him.

"Yeah?" he blinked twice and saw his youngest all teary-eyed, sniffling as they tugged at their comforter, "What's wrong baby?"

"I," they paused, rubbing their eyes in hopes of clearing the tears away, "I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you and mommy tonight?"

Reiner could almost physically feel his eyes soften at the words, and he nodded wordlessly, scooching and making space for his rattled child, picking them up gently and placing them between him and his heavily-breathing partner.

"We'll protect you from anything bad, alright bud?" he whispered, waiting for their nod in understanding before he kissed their tear-stained cheeks, "Get some rest."

Obediently tugging the covers up to their ears, they snuggled between the two adults, falling into an easy slumber, with their loving dad following soon after, happy knowing that his children would always seek comfort from their parents, no matter the reason why.

Taglist: @blondeboyfriend

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kerie-prince · 4 years ago

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We’re Worlds Apart (1)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj/Muggle fem!reader

Post-Battle of Hogwarts

warnings: language

series m.list | general m.list

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

(gif cred)

"They want... me?"

Draco Malfoy sat across his supervisor in his office at St. Mungos. His eyes widened at the offer he was given.

"Well Mr. Malfoy, you've certainly shown us around here that you do well at your job. If I must say so myself, I believe you're ready for the job," his boss has explained. Draco had recently finished his Fellowship and became a remarkable Healer. So much so that the Santa Marie Hospital for Maj Persons in Buffalo, New York contacted his supervisor to offer him a position as Head Healer. It was an incredible opportunity, one that a person could only dream of.

Draco sat still in his chair, shocked that of all Healers from his department, Santa Marie wanted him. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco was determined to change the views people had of him. He was no longer the prejudice prat that he was at school. Draco Lucius Malfoy is now a matured, capable young man. He worked hard and was proud that he did everything on his own. No help from daddy dearest, no pressure of the Malfoy name. It was all him.

"I would love to take this job. When would I start?"

Draco finished filing his paperwork at the Ministry of Magic that was to be sent to the Magical Congress of the United States containing his work permit and all the necessary identification. Walking around London, he grew excited about it. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since he got his letter for Hogwarts.

The next thing he has left to do was to find housing. There was an office located in Diagon Alley that specialized in international real estate. Draco walked into the brightly lit office. Much to his surprise, Daphne Greengrass stood at the reception desk.

"Well, well. Long time no see, Malfoy," she said with a smile on her lips. He was quite relieved to see a familiar face. "Good to see you too, Daph. I'm checking in to see Ms. Moreau. I'm moving to America soon." Daphne was both shocked and impressed that Draco would be making such a big move. They chatted momentarily about the reason for him moving and she congratulated him. Soon enough, the real estate agent walked out and called Draco into her office.

She sat at her desk and gestured for him to take the seat opposite her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

"The feeling is mutual, Ms. Moreau," Draco had slightly bowed his head.

"Please, call me Gwen," she smiled as she reached to shake his hand, "I see from your paperwork that you're moving to America, correct?" he nodded his head in response. "Fantastic! Now, looking at the locations for Buffalo, we have quite a bit of selections from houses to flats. Of course, in America they're called 'apartments'. With your budget, you would be able to get this nice house that is just a 10 minute drive to the Apparition office to Santa Marie's." She showed Draco pictures of the house. It was quaint. An all white, one story house that had three bedrooms, a lifted porch, small kitchen, two bathrooms, trimmed green grass in front and a dark stained wooden fence that went around the house. Draco nearly fell in love with it. Its contrast to the Malfoy Manor was warm and inviting.

Gwen had shown him pictures of the other places she had gathered for him, but none of them peeked his interest as the first house did. It was quite silly as he thought about it. Most likely, he would be working long hours at the hospital to even be able to appreciate the home. It made more sense to get an apartment as he would most likely just use the space to sleep and eat. But the house was begging for him to live there. After about an hour long session, Draco made his final decision on the small house.

"Excellent choice, I had hoped you'd love it. Now, before I contact the sellers about your offer, I must let you know this before you sign anything," Draco shifted in his seat. Of course there had to be a catch. A house this perfect needed one thing to go wrong. Was it busted windows? A terrible neighborhood? Shitty pipelines? He nodded for her to continue.

"This is an integrated neighborhood. Both muggles and wizards live around and you might not know which are which for a while." Muggles. He sat in silence, staring down at the photos of the house. Did he really want a muggle neighbor? No, you're past this Draco thought. The old Draco wouldn't even give the place a second thought. But he wasn't him anymore. "I don't care. I'll take it."

—

You woke up in the morning, stretching your arms and legs out of the thick blanket. It was currently 8:47 am, your alarm clock beside you still had 13 minutes to alert you to wake up. Deciding to just get a head start on the day, you walked into the your bathroom and started your shower. The water was at the hottest you took and you went about your daily routine. You said your repeated incantations in the shower as you lathered yourself with soap:

Water, water, wash away. Water, water, cleanse today.

Walking out your shower, you grabbed your towel and recited the next spell as you dried yourself:

By the earth in the soap,

by the air in the steam,

by the fire that heats the water,

by the water that cleanses,

I am cleansed, clean, and ready for the day.

When you were 12 years old, you used to watch your grandmother perform Wicca in her bedroom. Your mother didn't particularly join in on the belief, but also didn't oppose to you starting alongside your grandmother when you turned 18. Now, you were almost 26 and still kept on the same practices.

On the contrary to people's interpretation or views of witchcraft, you called yourself a White Witch; someone who performs good magick upon selfless reasons. You never hexed anyone nor wished any ill fate. The Laws of Nature was surely watching at all times and if you did, expect to get the same fate but in threefold. Not that you even had any reason to do such things, anyways.

After getting ready, you grabbed your bag, keys — which held a protection charm — and went on your way to work. Your cat sat in her tower located in your living room and she watched you walk out. Getting into your car, you noticed movement next door. A big, moving truck was parked and a crew of movers carried furniture into the house. Finally, someone new you thought.

Feeling nosy, you sat patiently to figure out who it was moving next door. Was it a family? An elderly couple? Maybe newlyweds. Right when you were about to pull out of your driveway, a handsome blond stepped out of the house guiding the movers where things were going to be placed. You couldn't hear his voice, but could tell from the distance that it had to be attractive.

He looked around the street and caught you starting from your car. You hesitantly raised your hand to wave at him but was cut off by a man walking up to him with a clipboard gesturing where to sign. You looked at the time on your watch and nearly panicked at how the time passed, leaving you with only 15 minutes to get to work. Hauling ass, your car let a screech out as your foot punched the gas pedal. You'll be able to introduce yourself later, Y/N.

—

A few days passed and Draco was headed for the Apparition office to his new workplace. He had leased a new car to drive there. According to the Magical Congress, wizards and witches that lived in integrated neighborhoods must check in at Apparition offices to not raise suspicions from No-Maj. Seemed quite silly at first, but it really wasn't that big of a deal. He remembers the first time he went to Diagon Alley with his father through the Leaky Cauldron, finding it hidden with a wall that required taps against it. Behind it, a magical alley hidden from muggles.

He pulled into the office building lot with ease. It was clean on the outside and had a sign on top that only read MCA Co,. At the front door, there was a pin pad with numbers on it that kept it locked. Draco pulled the paper from his pocket and dialed the number. The door made a clicking noise which signaled that it was unlocked.

In the front was a young man sat at a reception desk typing away onto a computer. It was a strange sight for Draco as he's never seen one before. He walked up to the desk and waited for the person to acknowledge him.

"Hello, sir. Welcome to the Magical Congress' Apparition Office. May I see your ID pass, please?"!the accent was unfamiliar to Draco, but he nonetheless reached for the pass clipped to his trousers and gave it to the receptionist. He scanned the pass, handed it back to Draco and raised up from his chair to guide Draco to the door which had a direct line to the hospital. "Have a good day, sir!" were his last words before he went back to his desk.

Draco looked at the address once more before appariting into Santa Marie's. Here goes nothing.

—

It was a long day at the office. Setting up appointments with new clients, greeting all the new people he'd be working with, and a surprise welcome party to end it. Everyone he met had different variations of American accents. Some from Chicago, some from California, and some from the native state of New York.

A man by the name of Ian Parker helped Draco navigate around the building. Draco was quite relieved to hear that Ian had lived close by, just two blocks and a turn away. They had lunch together and talked about just simple things about each other. It felt nice to meet somebody and they not know who you are and things you've done in the past.

Once he got home, the first thing Draco did was start to run the shower, gathering his sleepwear as the water heated up. Not meaning to, Draco noticed how his bedroom window had perfect view of yours. To him, it was extremely odd.

You had faux vines that curled around your four-poster bed, a couple of plants that hung against the wall and posters of movies that Draco knows for a fact he's never seen in his life. You walked into your room and went up to a small drawer and dug through it. After a few seconds, you grabbed out some incense sticks, lit them and stood them on the stand that laid on your dresser. Afterwards, you sat on the floor with your legs crossed and started taking deep breaths.

Draco caught himself staring for too long and was about to head into the shower until he saw movement from the corner of his eye. There you sat, but this time, you held items in your hands. One held what Draco thought to be just some colorful rocks. The other hand held a bundle of herbs on fire at the tips. Your lips moved and it had Draco curious. Your hand with the herbs moved in a specific pattern, creating smoke around you. Once you finished, you set the rocks and herbs down at a table and left the room. That was odd. Draco thought. He passed it off and went on about his night.

—

"It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. And trust me when I say that Hogwarts has its fair shares of odd moments," Draco sat in the break room with Ian and two other people, Ashley and Blaine. They laughed at the description Draco had of you and settled after Ian began his explanation.

"It seems that your No-Maj neighbor is considered a Wiccan." What in Merlin's name is that?

"Pardon? What's do you mean?"

"It's what they call witchcraft," Ashley added, "it became a popular thing after the Salem Witch Trials. Of course, there's no real magic to it like what we can do, but they nonetheless believe it works."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. Muggles are trying to be witches? This was probably the last thing he ever thought he would hear. Inside, a familiar feeling had ignited. A feeling he had, or he supposed still had, for a certain species. He didn't like it but to find out that what he is had become a fantasy to be was upsetting. He was born into this life, not them. Not you.

—

It had been a really nice day at work. People had been kind and you sold out of a new oil you made. As you entered your home, your cat ran up to your legs and purred against you. You smile down at her and made your way to prepare your dinners.

She nibbled away at her bowl and you watched in content.

Outside, you heard a car pulling in. It's probably him. You peaked out the window in the living room and your guess was correct. He stepped out of a black car and walked to his door. You tried catching his attention by waving your arms about, hoping he glanced your way. When he did, you waved excitedly to him.

He stared at you with a straight face, no hint of any feeling. It was odd, people usually like you and wave back but this guy was just looking at you. Not doing anything. You looked around to see if there was something behind you, only to look back and see that he was gone. Ooo...kay?

You grabbed your sweater and decided to introduce yourself to your new neighbor. It had been almost a week and it seemed that he still hadn't acquainted himself to anyone on the street. The cool, spring breeze sent a pleasant chill down your spine as you walked on the sidewalk.

Once you stepped in front his door, you knocked three times. No answer. Three more times. No answer. The lights that were on had turned off and curtains had been shut in almost a blink of an eye. He had made it clear that he was not in a mood to talk to anyone. It slightly hurt your feelings, but you told yourself to not dwell on it. He's just tired from work. Just then, an idea popped in your mind as you headed back home.

—

"Stupid fucking muggle clock," Draco cursed as he was running around his bedroom getting dressed. He overslept by an hour and had 10 minutes to be in the Apparition office to go to work. Damn American laws.

He grabbed an apple, not his usual sour green one but a sweet red one this time, grabbed his bag and ran for the front door. Something taped to the door caught his attention and he halted his movements. It seemed to have been a note someone left. He unfolded the paper and read it to himself;

Hello! My name's Y/N and I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I hope we can become good friends~ if there's anything you need or if you'd ever like to get acquainted over coffee, please feel free to knock on my door! It'd be nice to get to know you :)

At the bottom of the note was a small drawing of a witches pointed hat and Draco immediately knew who left the note. Almost on instinct, the note caught on fire in his hands and the ashes fell to the ground. He dusted his hand off and went to work. As if we would ever become friends.

—

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