#borderline crackfic XD

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

hello my Obikiki brethren♥ i just want Kiki to flirt back ONCE to completely floor Obi and possibly ruin his whole day lmao "I was not expecting that and now I'm terrified of Miss Kiki."

Theworld is dark. Muffled. And cold.

Shiftinghis weight onto the ball of his left foot, Obi flexes his palms, slowly exhalesto calm his own racing heart, and listens.

“Mymoney is on you, Lady Seiran!”

“Puthim in the ground!”

Plantingone hand on his hip and raising the other palm down, Obi tilts his head down tocheck his nails. As if he could see them through the thrice folded fabriccovering his eyes. The crowd guffaws, some of them throwing taunts, otherspleased, depending on how they lay their bets.

Theodds are against him. After witnessing the test of Makiri’s blade to hers the day prior, confidence in him spilledfrom the spectators like the coin from their purse.

“Sendhim into early retirement!”

Obibites down on his grin. One of these days, they’ll learn. 

Ormaybe a few of them already have. 

It starts out slow. First by one, then bytwo, then by ten. Heavy boots land hard against the packed earth and gravel, thecrushing of rocks louder than all their voices raised together.

Cheats,the whole lot of them. 

“Ibelieve in you, Sir Obi!” 

“Goeasy on her!” 

Sweatprickles along the press of fabric, the taste of kicked up dirt landing on histongue. Of all the things to say; of all the encouragements to yell. He thought at least Hiro liked him.

Butunder the din, he hears the shift. She’s small. Compact. Graceful and deadly.Light on her feet and- 

Obi’sgrin grows predatory under his cowl. “Sloppy.”

Herhubris gets the better of her – always too eager to prove others wrong, too eager toshow she’s not less – and sheapproaches from behind, moving in a weaving pattern to throw him off. She just barely manages to do more than brush the strap dangling from his jacket beforehe’s on her. Torso twisting, his hand wraps around the thick leather of her wristguard, one of his boots slotting themselves between hers, and with just aslight pop of the hip-

Theelation of the crowd circling them reaches a new height, mixing with cries of despair. He would feel sorry for them, but-

ButObi lets go of her wrist, pulls the blindfold from his eyes.

-thelook of surprise on Miss Kiki’s face, eyes wide and unblinking as she stares up at him,is most certainly worth their suffering.

“Alrightdown there?” he grins, eyes already gritty from the dust.

Herface regains its elasticity, and she glares. “Sorry,” she coughs, pushing herself up to standing and brushing her pants off. He manages to bite his tongue long enough to curb the offer to help with her backside. “I can’t hear what you saidthrough that that rag on your face.” 

“Now,now,” Obi tsks, grinning behind his cowl. “You’re just mad you didn’t think you need one.” 

Around them, spectators turning on their heels, kicking up dirt as they head back to their own training. Obi squints through it after them, watching them go with an internal sigh. There were some things he started this position with thinking he wouldn’t have to teach; not leaving unnecessary tracks was one of them. But yet again, here they were proving him wrong. He was going to have to talk to Jirou about-

He almost doesn’t hear it. He certainly doesn’t see it. But his body moves, back arching, neck straining, feet squaring to stabilize his truck. 

It’s a surprise to both of them to find her fist caught in the palm of his hand. Right in front of his eyes.

Obi almost laughs. He definitely chokes. “Miss Kiki,” he manages, impressed, clenching his fingers down down when she moves to pull back. “The solution to being sloppy isn’t to get sloppier.”

She doesn’t listen. Which, considering who she had to train with in Wistal, shouldn’t exactly be a surprise. Withher hand in his, she goes for his ribs with the side of her other palm next. Sucking his stomach in, he jumps back, grunting when she manages to land a hit hard enough to knock his hand loose.

Fist yanked free, she takes a few steps back. A little thrill runs through him when she rolls her shoulders back, squaring back up. It’s a side of her that rarely sees, only coming out to play when Sir and Master and Miss are not within sight: chin lifted, clothes skewed, and hair a mess. Her wounded pride sparks in her eyes… And it is this that always makes him wonder, makes him think-  

Were she even one inch less the daughter of Seiran she tries so hard to be, just how easy might it been for her to lay down with the rogue he once was.

He shouldn’t think these things. Sir would have his head, refusal of her proposal or no. And Hisame, well, he really doesn’t care what the Vice Captain thinks.

“Is there something funny?” she asks, fists still raised like she expects him to pull a dirty trick as well.

He shakes his head. Pulls his cowl down when a single finger to offer her a grin and a wink. “I was just thinking how pretty you look on your back.”

Iflooks were a knife, he’d be bleeding out in the dirt. “You lookbetter on yours.”

“Isthat an offer?” Obi purrs, swaggering a little closer. He’s playing a dangerous game, he knows. But he just can’t help it. Not when she makes it so easy. “Ask me nicely. Maybe I’ll offer myself up.”

Her stance doesn’t loosen, but her eyes drop, scanning him from top to bottom with a slow appraisal. When they meet his again, the quirk of the eyebrow, the touch of a smirk are the last things he’s expecting. It throws him off. Enough that she drops her defense and gets in close. Close enough that when something soft presses against his arm, he looks down only to snap his eyes north again. 

Kiki is watching him, her look no less dangerous than the first but for an entirely different reason. The only blood that remains in his brain is there only to remind him of her breasts pressed up against him. The rest is making its way down to his cock, and he-

Ah, it has been too long. He must be making things up.

“If you’re so inclined, I’d be happy to prove it,” she says, close enough to his jaw that the hairs stand up on his arms. “Tonight. Here. No audience.”

Obi’s breath hitches, staring at that slow curl of pink lips, feeling the way her body presses to his arm with every inhalation, and he’s definitely, definitely imaging things.

“Obi!Kiki!” Miss’s voice breaks the moment, and guilt mixes with arousal at the sight of her at the edge of the training yard, a bag of pastries held victorious above her head. “I got there early enough to get the chocolate ones!”

“Wonderful, Miss!” he calls back, stepping away. Trying to forget that once familiar warmth of a woman against him. His skin aches in its absence, screaming at how it was only just starting to remember. “Miss Kiki made me work up an appetite!”

~~ ~

“Ow, ow, ow, owww….”

“Stop moving,” Miss scolds, prodding his bruise. “It’s only going to take longer the more you do.”

“But Misssssss,” he whines, squirming away from her cool fingers. “Can’t we just leave it this time?”

“No.”

Obi grits his teeth, staring hopelessly at the ceiling. Normally, this was the best part of his trainings. Whenever one of his men landed a lucky blow, it was their tradition for them to drag him to the pharmacy, fretting and fearful that they might have done something irreparable to his body. Or perhaps incur the wrath of Miss. He’s never told them that they needn’t worry about either possibility. If he hadn’t managed to do the first then it was impossible, and the second- Well, he never failed to draw Miss’s fire to him and him alone.

“What were you and Kiki doing anyway?” she asks, her hands leaving his skin for a moment. To his utter mortification, he makes a soft sound of loss, but she thankfully doesn’t seem to hear it.

“Just!” His explanation breaks out into a gasp, back arching when she lays something cold against the bruising. Her fingers lingers as she spreads the salve that smells like lemongrass and her. “Just sparring.”

“Mm,” Miss nods, her cheeks a little flushed. “Kiki keeps promising to teach me self defense, but I don’t know…”

Ah, that is not an image he needs in his brain. Not ever, but especially not today. Not with a single catch of flint to stone, Miss Kiki had lit him up so easily. He would’ve preferred going to his room to alieve the issue before going to the pharmacy, but Miss Kiki had grinned around her pastry, tongue picking crumbs from her lips, and casually informed Miss that she may have cracked a rib.

“Do you think she’ll be gentle with me?” Miss asks, eyes a little glazed as she presses a poultice to his side. “If I take her up on it, I mean.”

Obi can’t stop himself. He groans, turning away and hiding his face in his hands.

“Obi?” she starts, keeping her hand on his ribs to hold the herb pack in place. “I’m sorry! Did that hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he manages, face muffled in the scratchy bedding. “But I’m sure Miss Kiki would take very good care of you.”

Praise to all the gods he doesn’t believe in, because he doesn’t think to look back at her. For when she speaks again, he doesn’t think he’d be able to stand knowing what she looks like when she sounds like that. 

“I think I would like that,” she admits softly. Shyly. Then suddenly, sighing. “Do you know she has a special lotion sent from home? It’s something her mother had created so she doesn’t get callouses from her sword. Her hands are so soft…”

He’s going to die. This is his punishment. For any number of things. Maybe not murder but certainly for loving his Masters love. 

“Is that so?” he chokes. “I’ll have to ask her for some.”

“Oh, Obi!” Miss chirps. “Just get me the recipe and I’ll make it for you.”

~~ ~

Heforgets. Or that’s what he tells himself. But with the fire burning beneath his skin that has kept him half hard all day, part of him is… hopeful. To be wanted - just once - like he used to be. Evenif it simply because Miss Kiki wants to take the aggression out on him that she can no longer takeout on Sir.

So when he finds himself back at the training grounds at dusk, he tells himself that he’s just checking. Just making sure that the reports the night shift have been leaving are false. (Pick up your shit! Caro’s scrawl screamed, pinned up against his door the last three mornings in a row.)

The reports were, unfortunately, accurate.

Obi sighs, surveying the staffs and practice swords laying haphazardly on the ground. The unswept practice ring. The sweat towels piled unceremoniously in a dusty corner. And he adds yet another item to his men’s curriculum.

Grumbling to himself, Obi picks up the three bow staffs closest to him, intent on putting them back in their place when the distinct sound of a blade being whetted sings not five feet away. 

His knives are already in his hands by the time wood clatters to the ground.

Miss Kiki doesn’t look up, through. Legs spread and sword laying between them, her eyes follow the length of it, the movement of her hands as she slides them slowly. Casually. Obscenely. Up. And down. And up. And down again.

“Obi,”she finally says, and his mouth clicks shut. Under torchlight, the cut of her cheekbones are sharp as the blade she treats… so well. “I’ve been waiting.”

“Uhm.” He’s really so eloquent today.

“Allthis time you professed how you are trying to be a gentleman.” Her lips curl in a slow grin,hand drifting in a slow caress down the hilt of her blade. Sweat beads athis hairline when the tips of her fingers pause against the dark leather, nails briefly biting into it. “But I knowhow you really are.”

Herthumb sweeps over the base and he swallows. Hard. 

Kiki’s hands are really soft, Miss had said. He should’ve asked how soft.

“Remember,Obi.” She watches him from under her lashes. “You shouldn’t keep a lady waiting.”

Obican’t fly fast enough.

————–

She’sthe first one in the office.

Shirayukistumbles into the pharmacy, rubbing the sleep from her crusty eyes. Last night was cold. Too cold to sleep, especially after her burner gutted out sometime in the early hours of the morning. Doubly so when she crept to Obi’s room, trying to steal some of his warmth, only to find his bed empty and cold.

She hadn’t wanted to come in early for once - all of her projects were relying on others at this point - but at least it is warm here. The burners have been running all night, climate control being worth the expense to funding, and Shirayuki shovels another handful of coal on top of the dwindling fires. A blast of heat rewards her diligence and some of the ice under her skin melts. 

Where was Obi last night? she wonders, pulling the curtains open to let stark winter light fill the room. Every time she’s needed him, he’s always been there. Save for when he left to go help Zen, but she had been expecting the silence then. The cold. The uncertainty of not knowing where he was or if he was okay.

But maybe- maybe he was just fine. Maybe he was with that girl. The one she caught him with when Zen was here. He said he wasn’t interested, she knows, but- 

But people change their minds all the time. And she’s never seen him with anyone else. She knows how easy it is to feel lonely. To wish for- for someone’s hand to hold. For someone’s heart under your ear-

Shaking her swirling thoughts into an attempt at stillness, she ties off the curtains and moves on.

It’snot her business what he does in his free time. She wouldn’tmake him the Mitsuhide to her Zen. Not that Zen forced Mitsuhide’s hand, of course. But shewants Obi to have a life independent of hers. It would be nice to see him happy. To be married, even. Maybe even- even kids.

Really. She swears that is what she wants.

Pain registers, sharp, and Shirayuki yelps.Bringing her fingers to her lips, she glares down at the flame innocently flickering up at her from the workstation. Pulling the abused skin from her mouth, she gives them a quick appraisal. They’re red where the fire licked her, but nothing too bad.

Still, it would be best to- to get away from more delicate instruments. And treat her own injury before Obi noticed - as he most certainly would. If she left it untreated, the fretting would be endless. Just countless reminders about how aware of her surroundings she needs to be. How careful. What would Master say if I didn’t take care of you?

She needs to stop thinking about this. About him.

The doors to the supply closet swing open easy, and she takes only a single step in before, in the shadows, the light catches on two golden eyespeering at her from low in the dark.

Shirayuki screams, feet leaving the ground. Twisting in the air, she grasps for something to grab hold to, fails, and unsurprisingly her landing doesn’t stick. The moment her ankle turns, she twists, falling towards what is likely going to be a really bad spraign when an arm bands around her middle, jerking her up mid fall, another hand covering her mouth.

Shirayuki’s eyes widen.

“Shh!” Obi’s eyes are as wide as hers, dragging her back into the closet and closing it behind them.

“Obi!”Shirayuki says, muffled against his palm. She jerks her head back and tries again, “Obi, what are you doing in here?”

He gestures frantically for her to lower her voice, and in the light seeping through the cracks in the door, she can see the way his hair is mussed, face flushed, and clothes crumpled.

Shirayuki’s face burns at the thought thathe might have- might have brought someone here. That she might have caught him. The fact that she sees no one means little.

“Obi,”she tries again, touching his arm. Beneath her fingers, every single muscle bunches up and she draws back, stung. “Were you hereall night?”

“MissKiki.” His eyes are wide, panicked when he looks back to her. “I don’t know- I think she might wantto kill me.”

Shirayuki blinks. Then stares. Slowly, the lines connect the dots and her worry dissolves into memory like a wisp ofsmoke. “Are you drunk?”

“No!”

“Stoned?”

“No!”

Those answers were far too guilty. Far too fast. But- she sniffs- he doesn’t smell of liquor. Or the horriblesmelling herbs that are far too popular in the northern territories. But thenagain, she’s taught him all the ways to cover it and he is in the storage closet.

“Thenwhy weren’t you in your room last night?”

Hisface grimaces from guilt and she prepares herself for the excuses. For the explanation that it was all Kiki’s idea. Or Makiri’s. Or his men’s. “Was it cold?” he asks instead.

“Iwas fine,” she lies through her teeth. “Just worried.”

He winces, voice dropping low. “I’m sorry, Miss.”

Guilt churns in her own belly and she- she’s really being far too unfair. “You know,” she begins, quiet. Uncertain of how she’s going to say this, but certain that she might die from saying it. “I’m not stopping you from-from having fun. You can always bring someone back to your rooms if- if that’s what you want.I don’t mind.”

He stares at her as if she’s grown another head. “I-” He laughs, high pitched, mouth offering nothing more than that.

“I mean,” Shirayuki rushes. “I don’t want you to think that you have to find a storage closet if you wanted to- to- uhm-”

“No!” Obi barks, far louder than she ever was. He’s shaking his head emphatically in the negative. “I was here all night! Alone!”

Her face must show just how much she doesn’t believe him, because she is suddenly subjected to a fountain of words. Words that make less and less sense the more he talks and Shirayuki can feel the sigh rising up in her before she squashes it down.

“Obi,”she interrupts, right when he’s starting up on some yarn about how Kiki appeared in the shadows like some lustful succubus. “I know you don’t lie often, but you really do need to try harder than this.”

His jaw drops. “Miss!”

“I’ve got work to do,” she says, shaking her head and walking back into the pharmacy. “Whatever bet you loss, just pay her and be done with it!”

“ButMiss!”

The door shuts in his face.

[evilkitten3]

i definitely agree that thor's childhood violence says a lot about the society they live in, but i think even an absolute monarchy would have some difficulty completely wiping out a bias (they definitely could've made an effort tho, regardless of how much it would've helped, and they clearly didn'ty)

do we know that odin intended to reveal the truth? from what i remember, he just said he'd had plans and they were no longer relevant. i kinda assumed that meant he picked up the baby, went "hey i have a great idea", quickly realized it didn't make much sense, and then just sorta. had a second son now (oops).

if odin did eventually plan to tell loki the truth, then yeah, it was pretty screwed up of him, but it never really seemed like planned for that. he clearly had no clue how to handle it when loki found out; got so stressed out he fell into his supercoma lmao

you're absolutely right about frigga, although honestly i think her intentions were less politically motivated and more just "yes my family is toxic but if i ignore it hard enough then everything will stay the same forever and we'll all be happy". odin's line about execution in tdw was pretty fucked up, but since all of the movies fail to really give odin the development he deserves as such a massive force in the overall plot and relevant substories, it kinda falls to the viewer to interpret him on their own. which is frustrating bc every single movie has a completely different odin (tired but well-meaning authority figure in t1, infuriated/grieving borderline tyrant in t2, and.... whatever the fuck t3 was trying for, which i think can best be described as "hannibal wants his damn paycheck")

idk to me it just makes more sense if it's less active malice and more just top ten asgardian parenting fails

they're definitely terrible parents either way, but i've never been able to wrap my head around how exactly loki would be a useful political pawn in the first place. if odin was telling the truth about laufey (which i personally choose to assume he was bc comics!laufey is a fun antagonist and movie!laufey shows up like three times and then is never mentioned again), then it's unlikely the jotnar would ever accept him as a puppet king or care about him as blackmail, which are the most popular theories i've seen. and even if laufey does care and loki was just a weirdly small baby who was otherwise very much wanted, i still don't really see how he'd be all that useful. like what's odin going to say, "surprise, the son whose death you've had a thousand years to get over was alive the whole time and secretly hates you! now let him run your planet or else"? possible, but i don't see what he has to gain from it.

although given how much of the thor series seems to revolve around miscommunication, maybe (in a crack concept) everyone was just so bad at communicating that a war broke out, odin ended up with someone else's baby, and loki accidentally learned to hate crime. probably not, but now i want to write a crackfic where the entire war was just a series of horrendous communication and the real reason odin banished thor was for making him talk to his ex again XD

so like. when loki talks about being the “monster people tell their children about at night” does that mean Frigga told stories like that to him and Thor when they were growing up? It seems pretty likely given that even at a very young age Thor is already talking about how when he grows up he’s going to hunt down all the frost giants and exterminate them; he must’ve picked up those ideas from somewhere. Did Frigga look into the eyes of Loki’s childhood self and tell him all about the horrific, monstrous Jotun beasts, even though Loki was right in front of her, living proof of the Jotnar’s great capacity for intelligence and emotion? Do you think after he learned the truth Loki remembered those stories and wondered what she saw when she looked at him?