#hayate cross blade | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cyb-by-lang · 4 years ago

Text

Leaning On Each Other (Remix)

This is a while later than I expected to get it finished, but here is @writer-and-artist27‘s birthday gift. She asked for a Kei-style take on this minific she wrote a while ago, so I did a full remix.

Apologies for making it a remix instead of the requested Kei's POV of this exact scene.

“I’m telling you, the difference is all in the wrist,” Kei said, holding out a kunai as though it was a katana. She spun it between her fingers as soon as her demonstration was over. “I mean, imagine this about four times as long in the handle and with ten times as much blade, but the point still stands.”

“You’d have to get me a bokken and show me directly if you want that to make sense,” said Obito, shaking his head slightly. “Rin?”

Rin shrugged, though her eyes didn’t quite leave the blade. “The blades I deal with are even shorter. I don’t really use them to stab people outside of a medical context. If you’re stabbing someone with a scalpel, something’s gone wrong,” Rin said, even as Kei made the kunai disappear into the holster on her thigh.

“Like in the flying clipboard story?” Obito asked.

“I still don’t know the actual story behind that,” Kei said.

Rin nodded along, but only smiled mysteriously when both of her friends in this conversation turned interrogative stares her way. “It’s funnier if I don’t tell you.”

On the opposite side of the couch, Kakashi made an agreeing noise, then flipped to the next page in his book. Kei didn’t know for sure what he was reading, other than noticing earlier that the cover art was entirely in grayscale and looked kind of gloomy. If Kei had been the one reading, she probably wouldn’t have paid enough attention to the conversation to know where she was supposed to make obligatory listening sounds.

Tomoko emerged from the kitchen at this point, flopping down on the couch between Kei and Obito. Kei raised a hand to keep her head from hitting the wall, and the three of them shuffled around a bit to accommodate her.

“So, done working for now?” Kei asked, silently making sure that all of her weapons were stowed. Sure, she’d left her sword at home, but no shinobi was ever fully unarmed. It was a truth universally acknowledged that a kunai somewhere unfortunate would ruin anyone’s day.

“You know me,” Tomoko replied, not noticing the shinobi weapons-check or not saying so. She leaned against Kei’s shoulder without hesitation. “Just for now.”

“That’s what you always say,” Obito said, leaning forward over his knees to get a better look at their faces. “You should’ve let us help.”

“There was batter on the ceiling last time, wasn’t there?” Rin asked. She’d only heard this story second-hand and the details changed in the telling because no one wanted to admit they’d been the one to start shit.

“That was Kakashi’s fault,” Obito said instantly. “And we were at Kei’s house, so we only got banned there, so it doesn’t count!”

“Getting banned from any kitchen still disqualifies you from going into a professional one, I think.”

“Focus, team,” Kakashi said, but mostly sounded like it was a wordier version of the iconic Uchiha “hn.” He certainly didn’t put any force behind the order.

“Okay, okay.” Kei nudged Tomoko with her elbow. “So, what’s up? Besides a clear need for a nap.”

“Nothing but the ceiling,” Tomoko replied.

“No, really?” Kei drawled automatically. “Would’ve never guessed. Congrats on your first well-timed pun, though.”

Tomoko pouted. “It got your attention, even if it’s a horrible one. So I’ll try to be punny more often.”

“Tomo-chan!” Obito said, shaking his head.

“I don’t regret it. Fight me.”

Kei considered her options carefully. A bad pun used in verbal combat came with a number of acceptable responses, but Tomoko wasn’t Hayate—who Kei would have already shoved off the couch by this point. Possibly backflipped him over the top of it, trusting his combat training to handle the landing. Tomoko needed more delicate handling.

Therefore, Kei said, “Obito wouldn’t fight you if you paid him, puns or otherwise.”

“It was a joke!” Tomoko protested, half-sunk into a combination of Kei’s jacket and the plush back of the couch. Her voice was a little muffled and pouty as a result.

And Kei occasionally pretended she didn’t know about those conversational ripostes solely to exasperate Tomoko. She wasn’t sure Tomoko had caught on yet.

From cross the table, Rin leaned forward and said, “You need to work on your delivery, Tomo. That landed pretty flat.”

“And the Earth is round and rotating on a crooked axis, sue me,” Tomoko said childishly in return, refusing to raise her head from her new resting spot. “I’m trying and I don’t wanna move.”

“It’s almost like overworking has totally foreseeable consequences,” Kei mused, her voice lilting to take the sting out of her words.

Tomoko paused, thinking on it for a second. “…Would you have me any other way?”

The answer was immediate. “Nope.”

“Good.” A smile replaced the pout. Tomoko’s habit of puffing her cheeks out to pout mostly made Kei want to poke her. “What’s up with you?”

“Not much.” Kei shrugged as best she could with Tomoko’s head on her shoulder. “To make a long story short, Kakashi doesn’t want to give input on my totally half-assed kenjutsu lesson. Obito and Rin are being good friends and pretending they know what the hell I’m talking about.”

There was a crinkle signaling the turning of a page as Kakashi went back to reading.

“Okay, just for that? Rin and I are going to talk about things that aren’t swords,” Obito said with a comically exaggerated huff. “See how you like it.”

Kei rolled her eyes. “Oh no. Traitors, et cetera.”

Rin’s smile was helplessly fond. “All right, all right. No more sniping until we get you both on a practice range.” She turned her head. “So, Obito, did I tell you what happened when Akihito-shishō caught the nurses smuggling candy—”

Rin’s tempting gossip drew Obito’s attention wholly, which was a good indicator that everyone was indeed done with the sword story.

Tomoko turned her head so that her face was finally angled up toward Kei’s. “You know I was asking about you, health-wise?”

There were times when it seemed as though Tomoko did little else. The life of a ninja was like riding a rollercoaster with a rickety, rusted track that didn’t deserve to have so many twists and turns. Especially for how unreliable it was. Their lifestyle was a major risk to life and limb.

Kei didn’t say any of that. Instead: “Yeah, I know.”

Tomoko thumped her head against Kei’s shoulder. “You’re my best friend in the whole wide world, y’know.”

“I know,” Kei said by rote. Reincarnation time buddies! Who hopefully weren’t going to destroy the universe by accidentally turning something into a paradox.

Another bonk. “Nagareboshi Café will always be open for you, y’know.”

“I know, Tomo.” Mostly because Kei had enough people in her life that she’d never forget it now. Being able to find half her social group there on a given day made the place a landmark, even if it wasn’t also a homey spot on its own.

Sounding a little strangled now, Tomoko added after a short pause, “So then, Kei?”

“Hm?”

“Whenever you need help, whenever you’re down, you can call me up, y’know. I don’t know how well I can fix things, but I’ll try. I’ll always try.”

Kei sighed. It was half from fond exasperation, but half from genuine frustration. There was always a part of her that utterly rejected the idea of pushing any of her emotional burdens onto Tomoko. Kei had volunteered practically from the start to chase whatever means of gaining power she could, all so she could make sure her precious people were safe. That was not the choice Tomoko had made. She’d never needed to, and Kei almost needed her to stay out of the blast radius.

“Tomo, you know I’m not good at asking for—”

Bonk.

Kei went silent, raising an eyebrow in a silent question as Tomoko stared back.

“Just listen, okay?” Tomoko rarely demanded direct, sincere statements toward Kei, who was equipped with a bone-deep inclination to deflect and dismiss what she viewed as excessive verbal reassurance. “No matter what happens, no matter what you end up doing, I’ll stay with you. To the end of our days.”

Kei bit down on the urge to interrupt.

“I care about you, y’know. So when you need it, let me help you like you help me. Just get that memorized.”

Kei sighed again, reaching up to pat Tomoko’s head. “I’ll remember that.”

When she could. It wouldn’t be as easy as Tomoko made it sound, but perhaps it could be, eventually.

And that was when Obito bounced onto the couch hard enough to make Tomoko briefly airborne. She landed with a surprised “eep” with her weight still mostly on Kei’s side, but turned to face Obito.

“Obi?” Tomoko said, startled.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Kei said over Tomoko’s head. It was so much easier to downplay any surprises when she could track everyone’s location within the room. Also, she’d seen Obito move out of the corner of her eye because he definitely wasn’t being stealthy.

“Your conversation looked like it needed crashing,” Obito said lightly. “It looked heavy even from where I was standing.” He tilted his head to one side, tucking his legs underneath him. “Tomo, is Kei influencing you? Are you gonna start all your conversations with puns now? Please say no.”

“It was my first try, Obi,” Tomoko soothed, reaching over with her right hand to rest against the side of his scalp. “I can try a different joke.”

Kei shifted her weight so that Tomoko ended up leaning more Obito’s way.

“I don’t know, I think the debut worked,” Rin said, settling back in at her spot. Whatever she and Obito had talked about must’ve scared him back into this conversation. She added to Tomoko specifically, “Just maybe relax a little and let them come naturally.”

“Wordplay and swordplay are both about timing,” Kei offered, “so I could probably help.”

“I can see you being a bad influence, you know,” Obito said. “Even if you’re trying to be all underhanded about it.”

“You’re shinobi,” Tomoko said, “Everything’s sneaky and underhanded! I could’ve sworn bad puns are how eye roll considering the family-friend thing.”

Obito groaned, defeated. “Kei, you had one job!”

“If she’s not making improvised bombs in her bedroom, I’m still coming out ahead,” Kei told him. “And she’s not. I think?”

“I’m not!” Tomoko said, half-frantic at the turn. “Just baked goods, like usual!”

“Oh, if that’s the breaking point,” Obito grumbled.

Tomoko frowned thoughtfully. She rested her hand against the side of Obito’s face in apology, then said, “I’ll hold off on the puns and you can have a batch of cupcakes later. Will that be better?”

This time, there was a hum of approval. Obito closed his eyes and leaned into Tomoko’s hand like a cat, mollified for now.

That’d probably last until the next time one of Kei’s friends opened their mouths. Peace reigned until the next half-joking argument in the life of Team Minato. And most of their associates.

“Can I join in?” Rin said, though she was already cramming herself into the space on Kei’s other side with a medical textbook in her lap. Kei didn’t bother wondering where she’d gotten it from; at some point, pulling a “nothing up my sleeve” routine felt like it was expected. “This looks like fun.”

“There’s cookies near the stove if you want to grab those first, Ricchan,” Tomoko said. Her chakra felt floaty with contentment. “Just to help with the studying you have there. The cookies are sugar and snickerdoodle.”

Rin’s smile widened. “Maybe later?” She still absently opened the front cover of her book, glancing at it before leaning against Kei’s other shoulder. “This feels nice right now.”

“Just make yourself at home, I guess,” Kei said with a toss of her head, settling farther down in the couch cushions. She shuffled to handle both hers and Rin’s weights before considering. “What about you, Kakashi?”

“Hn.” He instead disappeared briefly into the kitchen, out of easy spotting range thanks to the movement limitations of the human neck. “There’s not enough space for five people on that couch. There really wasn’t for four, but apparently we’re stacking like apartment blocks,” he judged when he returned, but he settled at the group’s feet and set the plate on the table in front of them all. “I brought the cookies.”

At this point, Tomoko started humming.

Rin reached forward and retrieved her cookies, passing out others at random. Kakashi demurred, returning his attention to his book, and wrinkling his nose at the thought of eating such sweet things of his free will. He was content just basking in his friends’ company.

“Just eat and relax?” Tomoko offered, passing a cookie from Rin to Obito. “We don’t have anything going on today, so let’s pass the time like this.”

Kei leaned her head back against the top of the couch, listening with half an ear to the world around her. With sight out of the way, she could focus on her friends’ contentment through her chakra sense and live in the moment.

Tomoko’s voice rose over the impromptu cookie party:

“Dream of anything;

I’ll make it all come true.

Everything you need

Is all I have for you.

I’m forever

Always by your side.

Whenever you need a friend,

I’m never far behind.”

Obito shifted and the couch dipped under his weight. Felt like he was reaching for his next dose of sugar already. The plate scraped across the table. “Could you sing that a bit louder, Tomo-chan? I want to hear.”

“Eh?” A sudden wave of shyness swept through Tomoko. “You sure?”

“We’ve all heard you sing before, Tomo,” said Kei, keeping her eyes shut. “No pressure.”

Rin’s sun-on-water chakra perked up along with her voice as she said, “You were the one to say we should relax, right?”

There was a brief back-and-forth between the boys—banter so played-out it was almost entirely fond. Amusement passed through each of them like an electric current.

Tomoko’s voice rose again.

“If the stars all fall,

When there’s no more light,

And the moon should crumble,

It will be alright.”

Being here, with these precious people, would tide Kei over through their next absence. With the life she and her friends lived, that separation was inevitable. There was always something else coming down the pipeline and eventually disturbing their peace, but that was the future.

This was now.

“Don’t you worry about the dark,

I will light up the night with the love in my heart.

I will burn like the sun,

I will keep you safe and warm.

Like the smell of a rose on a summer’s day,

I will be there to take all your fears away.

With a touch of my hand,

I will turn your life to gold.”

Kei seared the moment into her memory, to keep it like a light against the darkness still to come.

#the sea and stars #snippet #snippets #keisuke gekko #hoshino tomoko #obito uchiha #kakashi hatake #rin nohara #team minato

14 notes · View notes

fullmetalscullyy · 5 years ago

Note

For the prompt list, can I ask "What were you thinking?!?!" for Royai pls? 👉👈

of course!!! thank u for this gift 😍

happy new year everyone and all the best to you and yours in 2020!!! 💖

“what were you thinking?!”

“Hawkeye,” the Colonel growled, but Riza ignored him and breezed past, into her bathroom. She grimaced at the sight of her face in the mirror, noting the blood in her hair and trailing down her face. It had dried and cracked, irritating her skin and making her feel filthy. In the moment she hadn’t noticed it. While adrenaline was rushing through her veins it wasn’t even a thought, but now it was all over, she just wanted a long, hot, shower.

“Hawkeye!” She closed the door on him and his ranting.

A shower first, then she’d deal with his tantrum.

Riza understood he was worried about her. She knew that. In the reverse situation, she’d feel the same way, but this was her job. He never seemed to understand that about her.

The water pounded against her skin, the heat of it burning her nerve ends and setting her skin alight. Anything to wash away the troubles of the night. Roy was quiet outside the door and Riza knew he’d be pacing in her living room or something, too restless to simply sit still.

Riza turned to grab the soap to scrub her face, but she winced and let out a hiss of pain. Automatically bringing her hand up to her injured side, she clutched it. Damn it. She’d forgotten about that one. A poorly aimed stab resulted in a gash across her side, midway down her torso. A hand was placed on the tile in front of her to brace herself as wave after wave of pain washed over her. The water stung in her wound and Riza flinched away from it.

Washing herself free of the dried blood and grime took a lot less time than she would have liked thanks to that wound. Shutting off the water, Riza stepped out of her shower and grabbed a towel, not caring that blood would get over the white fabric.

The cut was ugly and ran from underneath her breast, around her back to underneath her shoulder blade. Riza sighed at the sight of it, but it was just another one to add to her collection. Opening the cabinet, she dug out a patch and bandages, ignoring the shaking in her hands as she clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth against the pain ravishing her torso. Wrapping it up was a quick affair, but it would do to stop blood covering her carpet and clothes after getting dressed. It was at such an awkward angle that she couldn’t properly clean it either. To do so, she had to stretch, and that made the pain worse. Giving up, she tossed the unused bandages in the sink and pressed the pad in place. It would need to be properly looked at.

Hesitantly she poked her head out into her bedroom. Roy had seen more of her than anyone else had, but that didn’t mean Riza wanted him to see her right now. Plus, he wasn’t the kind of person to confront her, half naked, in her bedroom after exiting the shower. No, he’d be stewing in her living room, waiting for her to exit. She was half tempted to leave him there. She was tired, she was sore, she just wanted to curl up with her dog and go to sleep. But Riza rarely got what she wanted in this life.

Putting on her pyjamas was a painful affair. She bit her lip throughout to try and hide the pain, leaving her panting at the end as her wound stretched.

Just as Riza thought, he was waiting for her in her living room. Roy was pacing in place, a frown on his face while his chin rested on his fingers. Hayate sat on the rug in front of the fire, watching him, but when Riza exited, her dog trotted over to Riza, following her to her kitchen.

The room was silent for a moment as she readied herself a cup of tea. The pot was filled with extra water to boil so she could sterilise anything if she needed to while patching herself up.

“What were you thinking?” His tone was quiet. Dangerous. Riza rolled her eyes, preparing herself for his tirade. He had no right. She was only doing her job.

“Tea?” she asked, ignoring him.

“Hawkeye –” he barked.

“Sir, would you like a tea or not?” she glanced over her shoulder, noting how his jaw set, his expression hardening.

“No,” he spat out. “Now –”

“Sir, I’m tired. Can this wait for another time?”

“What were you thinking?!” he growled angrily.

“It’s my job!” she snapped, her voice rising in volume. Something inside of her broke. He had no right to talk to her this way. It was her job to protect him and she’d done that tonight, and yet he felt it was appropriate to yell in her face about it, about how “stupid” she’d been. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“It’s not your job to get yourself killed,” he fired back.

“I’m not dead, am I?” she asked, demanding an answer from him. “I’m more than capable, and I don’t need you breathing down my neck and scolding me like a child for doing what I’m being paid to do!”

“You were reckless –”

“To you, yes, but only because I got hurt. If I hadn’t gotten hurt, there would be no problem, would there?” she challenged him, and she saw the spark in his eye. Riza knew she was right. She’d hit the nail on the head. “If it was any of the other men, you wouldn’t be throwing such a fit, but I vowed to protect you so you could reach to the top. Conveniently, you’ve suddenly forgotten that just because I got injured.”

“I’ve not forgotten that,” he replied, tone controlled.

“Really?” she scoffed. Riza crossed her arms. “Because that’s exactly what it looks like from my side. “In order to do my job effectively I need you to stop holding me back. We have a history, I get that, and if the situation was reversed, I would be worried sick about you too, but the world can not stop still just because I’m in a dangerous position. I’m expendable. You’re not.”

Fire flashed in his eyes, but Riza was right. When it was broken down, that was the basics of their professional relationship. She’d sacrifice herself for him so he could keep on living.

“Never refer to yourself that way.” His voice was low and dangerous again. He was angry, but, yet again, he’d conveniently forgotten that she was employed as his bodyguard and would take a bullet for him if it was required.

“It’s the truth,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s not,” he ground out.

“Personally, maybe, yes,” Riza corrected herself. “But professionally? I’m your bodyguard, Roy. That means I lay my life down for you to protect you, so you can keep on working for the top, unharmed.”

“I don’t want that to happen.”

Riza offered him a sympathetic smile. “Then this isn’t going to work out.”

Roy stared her down, unable to offer her anything further, but only because he knew she was right. He just didn’t want to admit it. Riza took no pleasure in proving him wrong and having this discussion, but she needed to be able to do her job effectively. She couldn’t be held back like that by him just because he was worried.

Riza poured herself the tea and reached automatically for the sugar, then winced and gasped in pain. Her hand flew to her side and she bit her lip, riding out the pain.

“You’re right,” Roy spoke with finality. “This isn’t going to work.”

Glancing up, Riza watched his retreating back. Her apartment door closed with a click, but it sounded like a gunshot in her mind. Sighing, and hanging her head for a brief moment, Riza accepted his decision.

They were done.

Riza didn’t know what this meant but right now she didn’t care. Numbness was setting in. All she could worry about was getting the wound treated and having her tea to soothe the twisting in her stomach.

The blood had seeped through the pad and onto her t-shirt. Changing into just a bra and tossing her bloody t-shirt aside, Riza re-entered her kitchen to pick up her better equipped first aid bag – Only to find Roy back in her kitchen, laying medical supplies across her table. He glanced up but barely flinched that she was only in her bra.

“Here,” he beckoned with a jerk of his head. “Have a seat,” he murmured.

Riza eyed him as she did so. She hadn’t expected to see him back. Roy motioned for her to turn so he could see her injured side. He peeled away the patch with such a gentle touch. His anger from before was gone and his eyes looked regretful.

“You’re right, this isn’t going to work if I act like that,” he murmured.

“No, it won’t.” Riza hissed as his hands pressed the alcohol swab against her injury.

“Sorry,” he murmured. It was a loaded apology, referring to the sudden sharp pain from the cleaning alcohol, and his behaviour. “You’re right, of course,” he chuckled humourlessly. “As always. I was being a fool.”

Riza bit her lip as pain shot in her side. “It doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate your concern,” she bit out as the alcohol felt like fire against her injured skin.

“I know,” he stated, taking a short break. Riza appreciated it and took it as an opportunity to get her breath back. “I don’t know I…” Roy swallowed. “Every time I see you hurt I just lose it. I hate it, but only because it frustrates you, because you’re right – I’m holding you back and preventing you from doing your job. That’s something I never want to do.”

Riza nodded, glad he’d seen sense at least. Roy moved behind her and poured a cup of boiling water. He lifted the needle from the kit and placed it in the cup, sterilising the needle.

“Just like old times,” he commented and Riza smiled. They’d patched each other up before like this, but not for a long time, and not on this level. Being in the military and being in the war they’d picked up some medic skills, and Riza was glad. She really didn’t feel like going to the hospital like this.

“Just like old times,” Riza agreed. “I’m glad you’ve seen sense.”

Roy huffed a laugh. “Sorry for being an ass.”

“Apology accepted.” Riza smiled to herself. “Respectively, don’t do it again.”

“If I do, I give permission for you to shoot me.”

“Noted,” she smiled dryly. Riza winced as the needle pierced her skin. She tried to keep her pained gasps and winces controlled, but sometimes she couldn’t. As soon as Roy announced he was finished her body sagged in relief. Hands were placed on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing circles against her skin.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you comfortable.” Roy helped her stand. It was a struggle to stand properly because of the pain in her side, but Roy grasped her elbow and assisted her walking across to her couch. Riza didn’t need it, but she gave in to it for a moment. It was nice to be comforted in such a way. They couldn’t do it any other time, so she allowed herself it just this once.

In a surprise, arms wrapped around her shoulders as she lay back in her couch. Riza was eased backwards onto Roy’s chest, her body in between his legs are they lay back together. He pulled the throw across her body once she shivered in the cool apartment air.

“Get some rest,” he murmured. “I won’t be going anywhere.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Riza asked, unable to help herself.

Roy chuckled, his breath skating across her cheek and her ear. His hands rubbed up her arms. “Get some sleep. It’s fine, Riza.”

She closed her eyes and drifted off. Riza was glad she’d gotten that off her chest and was glad they could talk about things like this and it wouldn’t create a rift between them. At the end of the day, they were both terrified of losing each other, however in a professional capacity, that was the reality of things. They both knew this, but fear had a funny way of altering one’s actions when faced with a terrifying situation. Riza could have died tonight, but she didn’t because she was good enough. She wasn’t indestructible, she knew, but she was good and confident in her abilities. Roy knew this too, but he’d seen her almost being stabbed after she’d charged in front of him to protect him from being hurt. In the shock, Riza would have probably done the same.

Allowing herself to succumb to the comfort he always provided her so effortlessly, Riza relaxed and let the day slip away from her. They were both alive and ready to live another day. That’s all that mattered. They still had to get to the top, after all.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #ask #anon #fic request #writing promtps #emma writes

83 notes · View notes

forkanna · 5 years ago

Text

Commissions OPEN!

For a long time, I’ve been considering Commissions; IE, you pay me to write a thing, and I write it. But I’ve had a ton of other projects I was juggling so it wasn’t feasible before now. Some of those are taken care of, and also I have no money, so let’s give it a whirl!

This is on a trial basis: if you ask and I tell you I'm no longer accepting commissions, then that's it! Please don't be mean. I took a look around Tumblr and borrowed ideas and snippets from a few other posts to give me a better notion of how to do this. Seriously, this is my first shot so I'm doing my best! If you are interested, please read through the full rules and details in this post.

Commission Rate: $5 to get started and first 1000 words + $0.02 per word

Minimum Word Count: 1500 (IE, $15 is the minimum for a finished product)

Maximum Word Count: Depends on number of commissions/my availability (but generally, anything over 10,000 is a stretch)

[Further details:]

Main Universes (I can jump in easily!):

Frozen

RWBY

Sabrina the Teenage Witch (90s TV series)

Riverdale/Archie Comics (yes, including Sabrina lol)

Overwatch

Harry Potter

Sailor Moon

Solty Rei

Wizard of Oz/Wicked

Bucky O’Hare

Scott Pilgrim

Jessica Jones

Miraculous Ladybug

Veronica Mars

Stranger Things

(This list may be updated)

Other 'Verses (I'll have to brush up to do them justice):

Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Firefly/Dollhouse

Charmed, Ugly Betty, Everwood

Hayate the Combat Butler, Zoids:Chaotic Century/Guardian Force, Zoids:Genesis, Tenchi Muyo!, One Piece, Naruto, YuYu Hakusho, Hunter X Hunter, FLCL, Cowboy Bebop, Dragonball, Bamboo Blade, Chobits, and a decent amount of other anime I don’t feel like listing

Other Disney verses, such as Tangled, Moana, Little Mermaid, what have you

Batman, Superman, Spider-man, X-Men

Tales of Symphonia/Vesperia/Abyss

Star Trek (anything but Enterprise)

Star Wars (original or new trilogy)

Hunger Games

Divergent

A Series Of Unfortunate Events

Steven Universe

Miller-Boyettverse (this means Full House, Family Matters, Perfect Strangers, etc.)

Sonic (But please don't ask me to write Sonic... like I will if you really want me to but ugh, it’ll just give me ‘Nam flashbacks)

Extras (note that these fees apply even if you didn’t notice them lol) :

More than 2 characters: $2.00 per character (if they have more than a single line of dialogue lol)

Use of Original Characters (OCs): $3.00 per OC

OCs must be from the same universe.

EXCEPTION: See Cross-overs below.

I will not write anyone else's OC. It must be wholly owned by you.

All OCs requested as primary characters must have a biography or a link to a biography page (if such exists) submitted to provide for characterisation. I’m not a mind-reader.

Cross-overs: $5.00 per universe (and they must still be one I'm familiar with)

Alternate Universe (AU): $5.00

Please describe your AU in the request; use as much detail as possible so I have a clearer picture of what you want.

If it’s just a general “Modern AU” with no other stipulations (meaning I can just write whatever comes to mind), this can be waived.

Pairings that aren’t F/F: $5.00 (sorry, I just need the extra motivation for non-femslash ^^;)

I WILL

Write from fandoms other than those above, as long as you provide information about the characters and the setting. This will cost you $10 extra, because unfamiliar elements will take a lot more time/effort for me to research and get into beyond simply writing the story itself (and I may refuse outright if I’m just not comfortable, fair warning)

Write smut! You can't be surprised.

Write any gender/gender pairing. I prefer and am best at F/F, but M/F, M/M, and anything outside the binary are all well and good for me (but I charge extra; see above).

Trans characters count as their gender for purposes of fees. (IE, if it’s F/trans F, it is F/F; if it’s F/trans Male, it is F/M and will be $5 extra but I’m still totally happy to do it)

Write all kinds of kinks; if you can think of it, I've either already written it or would be willing to try. But there are exceptions: see below.

Post the work on my blog and various fanfiction websites; you are paying for me to write what you want to read, not for you to be the sole "owner". Also, you can stipulate whether or not you are credited with having commissioned it, either with your name or just with a preferred nick/username/Tumblr URL.

I WILL NOT

Write anything that I ultimately don’t feel comfortable with. I reserve the right to refuse commissions for any reason with or without disclosing said reason. Do not push this or I may sever all contact.

Write non-con. Full stop. Dubcon, we can talk about it but I'm still not thrilled with the idea. Yes, I just said I'm dubious about dubiousness. (Superfluous note: this obviously extends to prepubescent characters because they cannot give consent, so just don’t.)

Write certain hard kinks. Scat and dismemberment are off the table; there are others but I’ll let you know if you hit one.

Write real people. This is a growing trend in the fanfiction community, and while I'm mildly iffy with it under the best of circumstances, it is off my commission table entirely. I’m not trying to shame anyone else but it’s just not my jam.

Do anything MLP. After what happened to Yamino, and then WebdogGate happening to me, I just... have an aversion. (There are other fandoms I won’t do but I will gently let you know if you ask about them)

Let you post the fic yourself. You will receive the file of the fic through email/messaging/file-sharing website, or simply by seeing the post on Tumblr/AO3 if you prefer, but you will not post it yourself and claim credit for the work. Just because you paid for it doesn't mean you are now the author; I’m not ghost-writing.

Write anything other than fiction. I’m not an Essay4Cash service.

NOTE: Asking for any of the things explicitly banned on my “I WILL NOT” list will probably get your commission request ignored.

MORE DETAILS

* I will respond to commission requests on my own time, checking when I can. If you are not responded to within 1 week you may request again. * Once I have accepted and begun work on a commission, I will generally try to contact again within 1 week, either to state the reason it isn’t finished or to hand over the finished product. You may contact me after that time to ask what’s going on. * PayPal is the only form of payment accepted at this time. All amounts are in USD. This information will be exchanged during discussions about the work in question. You can pay me via My Ko-Fi if that’s preferable (still uses PayPal), but I must know that is how you sent payment via PMs/email before you send payment so I can look for it. * The $5 initial fee (for starting work and the first words) is non-refundable, as are the fees for any extras you may have opted for, and that will be expected before any work begins. BUT DO NOT JUST SEND ME MONEY WITHOUT DISCUSSION OF THE WORK IN QUESTION FIRST. If I don’t like the commission idea and you already paid me, that’s on you, and I don’t want you wasting your money. * A brief excerpt from the completed commission will be sent for review prior to payment as proof of good faith. * The full commission will be delivered upon receipt of payment via PayPal. Unless I literally did not do something you requested (or did something you requested I not do), you are receiving the final product: don’t quibble over details or come to me with buyer’s remorse. Done deal, all sales final. * Your money is paying for my time and my work. If I really can’t finish your commission, I will do my best to get back to you and either discuss how to proceed or possibly a change in the work. (But legally speaking, you donated your money to me and it’s gone; don’t try something crazy like suing me to get it back because I have warned you. No refunds. But in most cases that will only be that initial $5 fee anyway). * Word counts may vary. I prefer to write a story to a natural stopping point, so I could go above or below the word count goal by a handful. I will not charge extra for overages unless it is substantially more, and even then I will likely ask you first if you have more payment to offer. * Your commission will be delivered in DOCX or PDF format in addition to being posted. Hell, if you really wanna send me another $5+printing/postage fees, I’ll print it out at Office Depot and mail it to you, signed. (Separate transaction/arrangement though.)

CONTACT ME TO DISCUSS ON TUMBLR, OR HERE (drawn terribly in paint to avoid spambots):

Thanks in advance!

#fanfiction commissions #commission work #fanfic commissions #fic commissions #writing commisions #jess the writer #jess the very broke writer

55 notes · View notes

chrystening · 6 years ago

Text

Standing on the Outside | Tsuna / Male Reader

Title: Standing on the Outside Fandom: KHR Rating: T Words: 2.8k Summary: Depression has never been a good combination with anything, but it definitely doesn’t go well with being in love with your friend-turned-mafia-boss. Warnings: depression, jealousy, tyl!tsuna, suicidal thoughts, fluff

a/n: he was my first anime crush .....

God, you thought, I wish I were dead.

You stared ahead, dazed. You registered the expert, precise movement of the sparring men yards before you, but were looking far beyond them. Hayato evaded a swift arc of Takeshi’s blade, enveloped in deceptively tranquil rain flame. The swordsman’s face held a joyful grin, while the other was openly furious. But you knew that the two were acutely focused on the battle despite their childish banter.

You eyes traveled a bit to the right, where their boss stood, amused. You stepped forward, longing to be by him. You saw his head turn to where you were.

Your heart jolted, and you looked away quickly. You glowered at the ground, hoping he couldn’t see the yearning in your eyes. If he met your gaze, he’d know.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Shivers ran up your spine as you whipped around. Reborn stood on a tree branch, at eye level with you. You couldn’t read whatever he was thinking from his beady eyes, dark like onyx. He didn’t seem amused or annoyed, but you knew Reborn was never quite what he seemed.

“Reborn—“ you fumed. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“You’re in the mafia. Do better,” he spoke nonchalantly. “So, what are you doing?”

You crossed your arms and tried to look nonchalant as well.

“I’m watching Hayato and Takeshi fight.”

“No—you’re watching Tsuna watch Gokudera and Yamamoto fight.”

You blushed, beyond your control.

“I am not.”

Reborn wasn’t amused. His lack of response sobered you.

You sighed.

“Alright, maybe I am—“ When you turned to him, he was gone. The leaves rustled in the wind. He was always doing that, you noted with frustration.

You brought your attentions forward again, but were startled to see Tsuna approaching you. You wished you could flee, but you doubted doing so would leave you any dignity. Not to mention, it was pretty hard to avoid a mafia boss who could just command you to see him.

“What was that about?” Tsuna began, an amiable smile on his face.

“What was what about?” you returned, trying to look invested in the battle behind him. Their clashes were occurring more often, both going on the offensive.

“I saw you talking to Reborn.”

“Oh.”

A three-second silence dragged on, and your mind screamed at you to abort the situation. When did it get so hard to talk to him, you wondered. You recalled being middle-schoolers, then high-schoolers – even the midst of all the trouble with Mukuro, the Varia, Byakuran… you two remained so close you were almost tripping over each other. You two shared secrets no one else knew about the other. As soon as you realized you loved him, you created distance. But maybe you created too much, because Tsuna was nearly a stranger now. He had other people he could depend on now. He didn't need you.

You burned with acid, angry how it all changed. You were angry how you let it get this bad.

“It was just about my shooting.” Lies flowed too well on your tongue, which you felt was one of your best qualities. You briefly glanced at your boss to see if he believed you. His face didn’t reveal anything.

An acorn fell between you two, and the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. Under the tree you were standing beneath, dappled light decorated the ground. You admired its lacy patterns and took to playing with how the light bounced off the ring on your pinky finger. It was a gift from Tsuna, and you never took it off. Your very own guardian ring, you liked to think of it.

“It’s beautiful out,” he breathed. He stretched indulgently, giving you a show of just how well his suit fit on him.

You looked at him, taken aback at how the light fell upon his lashes, making his brown eyes look like speckled gold.

“Yeah,” you spoke, breathlessly. “Gorgeous.”

Heartache pinched your chest, and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. Why can’t I… Why can’t we… You were standing right next to him, yet, you felt, if you tried to grasp him, you’d never reach him. Tears began to sting at your eyes, and you refused to disgrace yourself in front of your boss—your friend like this.

Hayate and Takeshi’s duel climaxed in a large explosion, blue and scarlet flames dancing in the air. When the dust cleared, they were both panting, barely standing. A draw.

Tsuna turned to you to make a remark, but when he looked, you were gone.

Just seeing them together… it made your stomach lurch.

You felt that maybe what you needed was to cool off. Along with many miscellaneous members of the Vongola, you decided to lounge around the premises. There was a lull in missions and paperwork to do lately, so you all spent your time appreciating the beauty of the headquarters.

Or that's what you told yourself. You had gone inside to avoid Tsuna.

But funnily enough, you had found yourself watching your boss talk with his guardians. Then, you had gone to one of the kitchens to get a drink and came back to see Tsuna having a chat with Kyoko of all people, the former school idol who was still undeniably beautiful.

Tsuna never told you, but you guessed that he had long since gotten over his crush on her. He didn’t stutter around her anymore. He didn’t amble awkwardly because he didn’t know what to do with himself when she was near. He regarded her as amiably as anyone else, but didn’t look at her with hearts in his eyes as he did as a teenager.

But now, in a sad twist, she was beginning to return his long-gone affections. It wasn’t blatant, but the telltale flush on her cheeks… how her stare lingered longer than necessary… it was the only conclusion to anyone looking. Or, it was the only conclusion to anyone looking as hard as you were.

You couldn’t help feeling a bit selfish. It was you who he had confided in about the mafia in high school. It was you who had been tested time and time again whether you were prepared to die for him, for the family. It was you who stood by him ten years ago, baring your teeth at anyone who called him useless. Kyoko had never even interfered when Tsuna was being bullied. All these years later, you realized your attempts in not keeping a grudge against her were in vain. Maybe it was petty, and maybe you it was childish, but it was how you felt.

Suddenly, pain blossomed in your taut fist. You heard everyone in the room gasp. All eyes were on you. The glass you were holding had shattered in your grip. The water it held leaked down your hand, swirling with blood. Its shards pierced your skin. Had you been less distracted, you would’ve winced… or had any reaction, at that. Instead, you stared bitterly at the mess you made.

“Oh, dear!”

“Whoa, are you alright?”

“Here, let me get that…”

“I’m fine,” you bashfully assured everyone. Gentle housekeepers and burly security alike—you flinched away from their advances. You chuckled nervously, purposefully avoiding a watchful tawny gaze. As seconds passed, you grew increasingly solemn. A dark mist floated into your mind. You should disappear, it whispered.

You excused yourself, rushing down a grand hall and making a beeline to where you knew you’d be safe.

“I wonder what that was about. I hope he’s okay,” Kyoko fretted, genuine concern coloring her eyes.

Tsuna almost didn’t hear her at all, his eyes trained on your retreating figure. “I have no idea…” Without another word he followed your trail.

–

You wrapped your bleeding hand in bandages, using your teeth to snip it. You flexed your hand a couple of times; the pain was tolerable, but still annoying. “Shooting’s going to be a bitch for a while,” you cursed. You sat in the quiet of your room, modestly decorated but still lavish. The silk bedsheets, the canopy that fell as light as champagne, the baroque pattern on the lush carpet, the thick curtains to keep the light out, the deep wood of your desk, the gentle accents around your spotless mirror—which Tsuna all had arranged in your favorite colors, in the way you had told him you liked one day in passing. Yet, none of it seemed to matter.

You continued working your hand experimentally, twisting and turning it. Your ring winked at you.

A gasp shook you, and you buried your head in your hands.

“I wish I were dead,” you voiced, for the first time.

Marked with an intense seriousness, you heard, “Don’t say things like that.”

You jumped, frozen. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

After a moment, you exhaled, your body shrinking. You sighed with mock frustration. “I realize you own the place, Boss, but this is still my room.” You swiped at your eyes before you turned in your seat to look at him.

Tsuna stood in the door frame, alarmed. To yourself, you wondered when he had gotten so tall… When had his eyes become so sharp? How long had it been since he had told you he was going to grow his hair out? He shut the door and made his way to you with a pained face. Had it been any other time, you would’ve realized how nerve-wracking this situation was–you, him, alone in your bedroom. With each step, your heart would’ve drummed in your chest. But now, you just wanted him gone. To wanted to throw your little pity party in peace.

“Are you okay?”

Thoughtfully, you closed your eyes. No. No, you weren’t okay.

“No,” you said, knowing he wouldn’t leave you be even if the answer had been yes.

Tsuna sat next to you on your bed. He grasped your hand, which was on your knee. You made to throw off his hand, but Tsuna firmly held it.

“I hate this—I hate myself.” You bowed your head, the ornate details on the floor filling your vision, until they were blurred with tears. “I wish I were dead.” You laughed a choked laugh, wheezing.

“Please, don’t say things like that,” he said again, in the same of whisper the mist in your head had. You wished it were his voice filling your mind. He pulled you into his arms. When his hand settled on your waist, you pushed his chest away roughly.

“Why is it always her?” you started, teary-eyed.

He looked at you seriously, ready to confront whoever was doing you harm. “Who?”

“Kyoko,” you gritted, glaring at him. You both loved and hated that he kept some of his oblivious nature.

His eyes widened. “Kyoko is…”

“Totally in love with you,” you spat. You shook him off you, trying to end what hadn’t even started to save yourself some heartache. You stood up off the bed, tried to fold your arms, but his hand around yours wouldn’t let you.

“It’s always everyone else—everyone but me.”

His eyes hardened, grip tightening. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re as important to me as anyone else.” You didn’t respond, because you couldn’t deny that. You knew you were important to him. So why was your mind always playing devil’s advocate, conjuring notions you knew rationally couldn’t be true… why?

“I know,” you croaked, small. “And they’re important to me, too.” Tsuna’s guardians were your brothers, siblings—your family. “They just make you feel so… far away,” you whispered.

“I thought—I thought you began to hate me,” he confessed, tired. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing bangs out of his eyes. You gaped at him in disbelief.

You placed a hand on his chest without even thinking.

“Tsuna, I could never hate you,” you pleaded to him. Your eyes urged him to believe you.

“I know,” he said, his thumb now making circles on your hand. “Because Reborn told me.”

You blanched. “Reborn… told you what?”

Tsuna looked terribly serious. “He told me how you feel.” Your mouth dried, throat tight. “About me.”

“I—I… I—“ you struggled to come up with an excuse, a lie. Your skills in deception failed you. You managed to put some distance between the two of you, Tsuna finally relinquishing your hand. He was probably afraid you’d break if he held on.

You heard the bed creak as it was relieved from some weight.

Tsuna turned you around slowly, gently. Your body began heaving with your pants, shaking. You didn't want to see the disgust on his face.

You tentatively opened your eyes, not even knowing when you had closed them. He was much too close. Get away, get away! No, come closer, come closer! your mind battled. Your breath caught in your throat. You were getting closer. Or was he getting closer?

Your eyes fluttered to a close once you could feel the heat radiate off Tsuna’s body. Why wasn’t he stopping you? You felt his lips skirt across yours. You felt them trembling, just as you were.

“Kiss me,” you croaked.

Then more assured, but still gentle, he pressed them against yours.

Time could’ve stopped, the fucking house could’ve been on fire—you wouldn’t have noticed in that moment. The kiss was sweet, different, warm, it was your first—It was him. You could’ve melted, the way he put one hand on your waist and the other behind your head. The moment went on forever, Tsuna playing with you in ways he couldn’t have ten years ago. You could feel all of him—his benevolence, his kindness, his power, and to your pleasant surprise, his desire. With his suck of your tongue, you clutched his shirt tightly, knees weak. Whoa.

You didn’t even know when it had been over until he was looking down on you with slight concern.

“W-where’d you learn to do that—“

“I feel the same.”

You shook yourself out your stupor. “W-what?”

He took your hands in earnest, kissing your knuckles. Butterflies took flight in your stomach.

“I love you.”

Those three words were sobering. You looked at him as if for the first time, eyes wide. Your brows furrowed as tears swam up to the surface.

“I’m sorry it took me ten whole years to figure that out,” he said bashfully.

You shook your head, not able to speak. You kissed his cheek, his nose, his lips until laughter came uncontrollably from him. You laced your fingers into his and threw yourself backward onto your bed, taking him with you. Tsuna took to dotting your skin with feather light kisses once you both landed.

“I love you,” you gasped, as he reached a sweet spot behind your neck. Tsuna responded in Italian, the words spoken into your skin. You blushed, pleased at how he voice sounded whenever he spoke it. You��d have to tell him to do it more, you realized.

He looked down at you, before his eyes became lidded. His gaze showered down on you warmly. The two of you laid in silence, both comforted by the quiet and by the proximity. You realized with a jolt that he was growing closer again, unable to recall when he had placed a hand on your hips. His thumbs stroked you absentmindedly.

You allowed your guard to fall, unabashed in showing him the raw emotion you felt searing through your body. Your cheeks warmed, and you were satisfied in seeing his own grow to be an innocent pink. His old self was still in there somewhere.

You didn’t have to tell him this time.

Tsuna tilted your chin up with his fingers, closed the gap, and had you writhing against his lips in one motion. The kiss had its own magnetic pull, forcing you closer into his body. You couldn’t withdraw even if you wanted to. You moaned in appreciation of his skills, muffled.

With that sound, the moment shifted from romantic, to something heavier… This was something you hadn’t acquainted yourself with at all.

You were the one to withdraw this time, huffing. You saw Tsuna’s lips pink and swollen from stimulation, and assumed yours must look the same. His hair was mussed from where you had run your hand through it. You played with the longer pieces of hair. He looked… good, disheveled like that. He looked undone. In your appraisal, you hadn’t noticed his eyes growing darker.

You were taken aback at the heated look in them, but as you settled, you found it wasn’t something you disliked at all. If anything, you felt … desired.

But, you knew, that was for another time. Right now, you just wanted to lie here.

It was as if Tsuna could read your mind. The heat in your gaze cleared, replaced with understanding and affection. You let it wash over you.

He traced the bandages on your hurt hand, then your hand itself, as if trying to commit its texture to memory. In his inspection, the light from your room’s window hit your ring in just the right way.

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #reborn #tsuna #sawada tsunayoshi #tsuna male reader #tsuna imagines #khr imagines #mine #fic commissions

6 notes · View notes

writing-royza · 6 years ago

Text

Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul: Chapter Nine - End of Darkness

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone! Just as a heads up, next week’s chapter may be delayed by as much as a day or two; I’ll still do everything I can to update as close to on time as possible. Chapter warnings this week are for nightmares and language.

I do not own FMA.

Chapter Nine - End of Darkness

TRAIN FROM CENTRAL CITY TO EAST CITY

0323 HOURS, APRIL 16

The landscape rolled by in darkness, illuminated only by stars and a crescent moon. Riza was grateful that Hayate had finally calmed down, his paws no longer propped against the windowsill as he tried to see anything and everything flashing by in the night. He was curled on the seat beside her, his muzzle laid delicately over his paws and nose twitching as he slept.

Across from her, Roy sat with one leg crossed over the opposite knee, relaxed in his seat. His arms were folded over his chest, his head bent and eyes closed. Mercifully asleep in the otherwise nearly empty car.

Riza smiled fondly, watching him. He seemed as though he could wake at the slightest provocation — and with his hearing enhanced by his loss of sight, that probably wasn't far off the mark — and begin barking rebukes at whatever soldier was unfortunate enough to have disturbed him. He wore that small frown that was so common when he was concentrating on something, furrowing a line between his brows.

She stirred, feeling a pleasurable weariness in her limbs that was the residual note of a hectic, hurried, last-minute tumble before they had left for the station and their overnight train eastward. Her smile grew at the memory, hearing again his panting breath beside her ear, feeling the slip of her fingers against sweat-slick skin….

Breathing out slowly, she leaned her head against the padded back of her seat, reaching over to scratch affectionately behind her dog's ears. Thanks to his size and the relative emptiness of the train, she hadn't had much trouble convincing the conductor to allow him into the passenger car, instead of cargo. Roy had made a joking comment about claiming him as a seeing-eye dog, but even that little ruse hadn't been necessary.

She let her eyes fall closed. Up until now, she had felt too wired to sleep, given the early morning crime scene, the news of the killings out East, the day spent scrambling for whatever travel permits and paperwork they would need to bring with them… and that last forty-five minutes before they'd had to rush out the door for the train….

Almost without realizing it, her eyes opened again, and she looked out the window. The car was dimmed to allow passengers to sleep, but she still couldn't see much past the reflection in the window. Somewhere on this train — likely lurking in a cargo car like the fugitive he was — was Scar. Miles had already gone ahead and would meet him for the last leg of the journey into Ishval, where they would go once their investigation was over. The investigation into that man….

No. She pushed the thought firmly away, resettling herself in the seat. She would not think about that bizarre encounter when she should be sleeping. When she should have been sleeping hours ago. With only two hours left until they reached East City, she needed all the rest she could get.

Closing her eyes again, she breathed deep and let it out slowly, her thoughts wandering past East City and further south, toward Resembool. She remembered that large, rambling house at the end of the dirt path, rising out of the hills surrounding the town. It had been nearly five years, but the image was still fixed clearly in her mind. To think that the children that lived there would have proven themselves to be so strong….

But not as strong as you.

Her eyes snapped open again to find Roy sitting forward, his elbows braced on his knees and his fingers laced together. Those dark eyes stared at her with an intensity she knew all too well, glinting with dark, bedroom mischief. Riza felt her mouth drop open in unaffected surprise.

"Roy… your eyes…."

He grinned. "The better to see you with."

Moving forward, he braced himself against the back of her seat with one hand either side of her head, not stopping until his lips grazed the soft skin behind her ear. Riza smiled, glancing to her right at the other seats in view. "Not that I'm complaining," she said quietly, "but you're awfully bold for someone in a semi-public place."

"No more so than I ever was."

Her gaze snapped back to the face in front of hers… and she immediately tried to scramble to the side. The stranger caught her by the shoulders, his long-fingered grasp holding her in place with nearly bruising force. That strange water-ripple was even harder to see past up close, and Riza felt her eyes struggle with the sheer weirdness of it. She must have misread it in the gloom and her own tiredness, mistaking it for Roy's face with his eyesight returned.

"How did you —"

"Find you?" He grinned, showing teeth that — were those fangs?! — glinted in the dim light of the car. "Very easy. You have a certain scent to you, Lieutenant, one that's practically magnetic. It has rather a strong draw…."

He trailed off, eyes raking over her in a look that was nothing short of lascivious in its intent. Gooseflesh prickled over every inch of her skin at the thought that his lips had once again been pressed to her neck, over that thin, still-healing scar. She gritted her teeth, raising both hands to plant them against his shoulders.

"Enough," she bit out. "Get —"

The distorting ripple over his face was gone, revealing the age lines and crow's feet at the corners of the eyes. One green, one marked with a symbol in blood red glared at her under lowered brows. The moustache covered the span of skin between nose and frowning mouth, running perfectly trimmed along the line of the upper lip. Riza felt her mouth go dry as King Bradley stared at her from mere inches away.

"By all means, Lieutenant," he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. "Continue on with what you were going to say. Get what?"

Shut up, she told herself firmly. Don't you dare say a word. He'll kill you the instant you do, you know he will. Don't provoke him….

"Get the hell away from me," she all but whispered, unable to heed her own advice. "You're dead. You can't be here. I —"

"Dead?" A bitter smile shifted the lines in his face, one hand reaching to the small of his back, no doubt after one of those famous swords. "Me? Don't be ridiculous, Lieutenant, the king doesn't die, he merely enters checkmate. A simple change in state, not one so grievous as death. And while your precious Colonel may think you a queen to his king –"

She heard the rasp of steel leaving a scabbard, and closed her eyes in grieved resignation. "– he fails to realize that 'thinking' and 'being' are two very different things."

There was a pause, but the stab of the blade didn't come. Riza waited, her heart in her throat, wondering how this had ever happened. Why wasn't Hayate awake and barking at this threat to his mistress? Why hadn't Roy woken, demanding she tell him what was going on? How had Bradley survived? How had the strange man gotten on board? Perhaps Bradley was the strange man?

"So many questions."

Even before her eyes flew open, she recognized the voice. On seeing that familiar smirk, the light reflecting off the glasses in that familiar fashion, even the way he lounged in the seat beside his still-sleeping best friend with his gaze on a photo of his daughter… Riza nearly screamed.

Hughes looked up, one eyebrow lifted questioningly. "Feels like there's something you want to say, Hawkeye," he said mildly. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

This last appearance triggered a memory: tracking Roy through the tunnels underneath Central, her finger on the trigger of her gun and ready to shoot anything that moved. She hadn't seen it for herself, but he had told her about one trick in particular that had been played on him, and a very cruel one at that.

"Envy?"

The wide grin that spread across Hughes' face was lacking all the warmth and mischief its true owner had always given it. Full of a gleeful malice, it showed pointed teeth. The image wavered, and the sight of Hughes — now getting to his feet — seemed to melt into the lanky, long-haired Homonculus.

"Should've known you'd latch onto this idea sooner or later," it commented, still smirking. "Been a while, Lieutenant; did you miss me?"

"Like a toothache." There was a gun holstered against her left side, riding comfortably under her arm, but Riza knew there was no way she could pull it and fire in the time it would take this monster to reach her and snap her neck. Not that a single shot would do much good against this… aberration. "Although the last time I saw you, you seemed sick. You were looking a little green."

The Homonculus's smile dropped into a scowl, and it edged forward another step. "You listen to me, you little insect," it growled warningly. "You're going to forget you ever saw that. It never happened, understand?"

"You listen to me," she snapped. Rising to her feet, standing nose-to-nose with the thing, Riza kept her voice low but filled with deadly promise. "I don't know how you managed to hold on to whatever you call a life, or why you've started following me around, but I'm done. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't wake him —" She cut her eyes briefly toward Roy, and then back again. "—and let him do to you what he wanted to in those tunnels."

Violet eyes regarded her seriously for a moment, before Envy stepped away and to the side. "I think you're confused, Lieutenant. I'm not who you think I am."

"Explain," she bit out.

Envy grinned. "You've never been able to just let things go, have you. You see a mysterious stranger with pale skin and dark hair, but you can't tell what his face looks like… so you start picturing everyone you know or knew with those traits." The image of the Homonculus started to cycle, changing heights, hairstyles, eye colour, body type with stomach-churning accuracy and speed. Voices spoke in the tones of their owners.

"Mustang."

"Bradley."

"Hughes."

"Envy."

A new face - female, short dark hair, with large dark eyes and a tiny mole under the left one. She smiled. "Ross." A second shift, to another female, her dark hair pulled into a high bun at the back of her head, her left arm missing and the bandages wrapping around her torso. She lifted her face, dotted with pain-induced sweat, to look solemnly at Riza. Her voice was soft and husky. "Lan Fan." Shift. Male this time, tall but the shoulders slightly stooped with age. Smoke curled across old-fashioned glasses, the eyes behind them haunted from Ishval and as sad as a bloodhound's. The cigarette between his lips wiggled as he said, "Knox."

Riza swallowed convulsively as white doctor's scrubs morphed into a sophisticated white suit, the cigarette disappearing in a puff of smoke that changed to a hat perched on long, black hair gathered into a sleek ponytail. He raised a hand, tugging the hat's brim suavely in her direction. "Kimblee."

The elastic holding the hair in its tail burst, the strands becoming thicker, curling into a familiar mass of curly, dark brown hair. The clothes and form changed until those mischievous, fun-loving dark eyes smiled at her. Two fingers gave her a mock salute in time with a cheeky wink. "Second Lieutenant Rebecca Catalina."

The worst shift came last. Before her eyes, the lips of her best friend darkened and became more full. The hair rippled and grew longer, the military-style clothes changed to a form-hugging, daring black dress. That too-familiar mark painted itself in the centre of her chest, and the two fingers that had playfully saluted lengthened, their sharp points coming to rest under Riza's chin. A dangerous smile spread, that same one that had told her of two dead human sacrifices….

"Lust."

Riza slammed awake, bolting forward with one hand to her throat, her mouth open as she struggled for a deep enough breath. Adrenaline flooded her system, wanting her to fight the apparition that was no longer there. Finally, gasping audibly, she inhaled.

Beside and behind her, Hayate whined, pawing gently at her lower back. He wiggled forward, shoving his head through the gap between her arm and her side; he knew when his mistress needed comfort, knew that he was the key to that. He whined again, pressing his cold, wet nose against the opposite arm for her attention.

Unfortunately, the combined sounds of her panicked breath and the dog brought Roy snapping awake. Greyed-out eyes locked on her direction, his body tense and stock-still as he listened. "…What happened?"

She swallowed, breathing deeply a second time before she could speak. "Nightmare…." Leaning back in the seat, she touched one hand to her dog's head, trying to ignore the shaking in her fingers as she stroked the soft fur. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

His eyes were still on her, his posture unchanged. Evaluating. "If you did, it must have been a bad one." When she didn't reply, he got carefully to his feet, moving across to settle again beside her, his arm around her shoulders. "Talk to me. What was it?"

Riza shook her head slowly, beginning to breathe more normally now that the fear was ebbing. "I… don't know. I can't explain it. Just… a rush of faces, maybe a dozen or so? Some of them… some of them weren't even alive anymore, but I somehow thought… it was real."

"Nightmares are like that," he allowed. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to her hair. "Best just to tell yourself it was only a dream and try to go back to sleep."

Looking toward the window, she shook her head again. "Not much point," she said quietly. "We're nearly there."

The first rays of sun were just beginning to show over the horizon, the sun visible as the barest edge of light in a pink sky. The first buildings of East City's outskirts were visible, drawing slowly nearer as the train progressed, everything silent and still in the early morning. The dream had lasted, by her reckoning, just shy of two hours. A new feeling, a comforting one, began to settle over her as the last dregs of the dream faded.

It felt like coming home.

EASTERN HEADQUARTERS FIRING RANGE

0926 HOURS, APRIL 16

Despite knowing that he would feel nothing, Havoc still winced as the footrest of the wheelchair collided with the swinging doors to the long, low building that housed the range's offices and storage. Thankfully, the tips of his shoes were already slid back half an inch from the edge.

"Would you slow down?" He gritted his teeth, hands clenched into white-knuckle grips around the arms of the chair. "You're going to kill us both, the way you're going!"

"That blond freak on the Promised Day didn't kill you, and neither will my steering," Rebecca shot back, maneuvering the chair around a corner. The wheels squealed in protest on the tiled floor, but the chair completed the turn safely nonetheless. Ahead down a short hallway was another set of swinging doors, and a familiar figure.

Riza stood to one side of the hallway, a folded copy of the Eastern Times in her hands and her eyes staring blankly at the floor, lost in thought. She twitched at the sound of the wheelchair, looking up sharply before visibly relaxing with a small smile. "Ah. You're right on time."

Havoc wasn't quite over his surprise yet. "Lieutenant? What are you — when did you —" His brain caught up to events, like train cars knocking into each other as they come to a halt. Blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Wait a minute, if you're here, then the Colonel…?"

Hawkeye nodded toward the closed doors. "Waiting inside." She looked past him to her friend. "Go ahead and take him in; they should be just about ready."

"Sure." Starting forward again, more slowly this time, Rebecca reached out to give her friend's arm a reassuring squeeze in passing. "I'll come back and wait with you while it's going on. No girls allowed, huh?"

The room beyond was dimly lit. It had been a long time since Havoc had had cause to be back in this particular part of the range building; since he'd first been stationed in East City, in fact. The open space was empty, the floor made of unadorned poured concrete. Ahead, in a pool of light in the centre of the room, were a hospital gurney, two chairs, and a pair of men.

The older man looked up at the wheelchair's approach, smiling from a face that looked as though he'd fallen head-first into live coals. "Second Lieutenant Havoc, I presume?" He got to his feet, moving to extend a hand. "A pleasure to meet you; I've heard nothing but good things."

"Uh… thank you. Though I'm not a Second Lieutenant anymore, sir." Feeling more than a little off-balance, Havoc shook hands with the stranger. "I can't say I know you, Mr.…?"

"Dr. Tim Marcoh." The smile took on an unmistakable sense of mischief. "And you may be a private citizen now… but I'm willing to bet you'll be back in uniform sooner than you think, young man." Clapping Havoc on the shoulder, he turned away toward the gurney, addressing the room's other occupant. "I'll just need a few minutes to make sure everything is ready."

"Of course; take your time." Sitting relaxed in his chair, his arms folded and eyes closed, Roy turned his head in the direction of his former subordinate. "Long time, no see, Havoc."

Rebecca only half-successfully smothered a laugh, turning it into a quiet snort. "If that's the kind of humour you're reduced to, Colonel, I'll make my escape while I still can." She grasped Havoc's shoulders, squeezing once in reassurance, before quickly tousling his hair as she turned toward the door. "I'll be right outside with Riza if you need anything."

Havoc waited until he heard the door shut behind her before he spoke, his voice low. "…Boss, what's going on? I know you get off on this cloak and dagger stuff, but for the general population, it's pretty irritating." His gaze cut toward Marcoh, busy with several pieces of paper spread on the gurney, and lowered his voice even farther. "Wasn't this Marcoh guy wanted by the military at one point?"

"A while ago, yes. Circumstances have changed." Eyes still closed, Roy paused a moment, then said, "Havoc, how long have you been in that chair?"

The question took him aback. Nobody asked about the chair, ever. If anything, people tended to tiptoe around the subject, not wanting to draw attention to it. "…The chair itself, about three months," he answered cautiously. "Why do you ask?"

Roy ignored the return question. "And you've been without the use of your legs for, what, seven? Eight months?"

"About that, yeah." Annoyance was beginning to flare in his chest, and Havoc rolled the chair closer. "What are you getting at? Why did you have Rebecca drag me down here? Just to stick me in a spooky room and ask me a bunch of weird questions while a former wanted fugitive hangs around?" His laugh was humourless. "If that was your endgame, Boss, the least you could do is look at me."

The moment Roy did, Havoc regretted the comment.

"�� Boss, what…." The words stuck in his throat out of sheer surprise, and he had to swallow to force them free. "Shit, Boss, what happened to your eyes?"

A small humourless smile tugged at one side of Roy's mouth. "They were short one alchemist on the Promised Day that had opened the Portal of Truth, so they decided to make one." He waved one hand toward his eyes. "The result isn't quite as catastrophic as if I'd done it voluntarily and on my own, but still bad."

Wheeling the chair forward by hand, feeling apprehensive, Havoc leaned forward to get a better look. "…Can you keep working like this? Don't you kind of need to see?"

The smile grew, gaining back its usual confidence. "That's why we're here."

"And I'm ready." Havoc looked back over his shoulder to find Marcoh waiting beside the gurney. The older man smiled, sending the deep wrinkles in his face into even deeper shadow. "Havoc, I believe the Colonel indicated you'd be going first."

"I – what?!" His head whipped back around to stare at those grey eyes and the broad smile. "Boss, you don't think this guy can –"

"I have every confidence he can," Roy said quietly, firmly. "Dr. Marcoh was one of the primary researchers on the Philosopher's Stone, so if anyone knows how to use it effectively, it's him." He tilted his chin toward the doctor. "Go on, Havoc. You've waited long enough."

"I –" He glanced again between the two men, the motion turning into a head shake as it began to sink in just why he'd been brought. "Boss, are you sure about this? This… doesn't this break some alchemists' taboo or something?"

"Oh, probably." Roy shrugged airily. "But then again, you were paralyzed by an unholy alchemical creation which was undoubtedly the result of breaking alchemic taboos, so what's one more? And besides –" His expression turned grim. "There are people imprisoned inside that Stone. The only way to free them is to use it up."

He hesitated only a moment longer, before turning the chair toward Marcoh. "I hope you know what you're doing, Doc. If it goes wrong, promise me I'll get one last chance to slug the Colonel for making me do this?"

Still smiling, Maroch drew up a stool from its place tucked away under the gurney. "You'll be fine. Stay in the wheelchair; your leg muscles will have begun to atrophy and you won't be able to walk right away. You won't walk out of here, but I guarantee you'll have feeling again."

—-

The room descended into quiet, broken by murmured comments from Marcoh as he worked at setting up the transmutation that would either make - or break - Havoc's future and his own. Roy was careful to keep himself as still as he could, both to avoid making Havoc even more uneasy, and to keep from worsening the nervous fluttering in his own stomach. What he wouldn't give to have Riza here, in the room, to grip his hand and murmur assurances… but they needed a guard, and she needed plausible deniability. Havoc was right; using a Stone after the events of Promised Day and before they immersed themselves in Ishvalan culture was not likely to be received favourably.

The familiar whine-crackle of a transmutation broke him out of his thoughts. He listened intently, trying to gauge how Havoc was responding. Only silence sounded from under the noise of alchemy… for the first seven seconds.

It started as a low, distressed hum, a noise of pure discomfort more common to doctors' offices or dentists' chairs. But in the space of a few seconds more, it escalated dramatically into a howl. Roy gritted his teeth, knowing he was powerless to help, to alleviate the pain, and that he would have had to refrain even if it were possible.

From inside his mind, Edward's voice spoke. There's no such thing as a painless lesson.

As abruptly as it had begun, the whine-crackle faded away, but Havoc's anguished cry was longer in dying off. When it did, it devolved into ragged breathing and gasped curse words, overlaid with Marcoh's quiet assurances and instructions.

Getting carefully to his feet, Roy moved forward, following the sounds. When he judged himself close enough, he reached out, groping blindly until he touched Havoc's shoulder. "Steady," he murmured, moving in front of the wheelchair. "Steady, Havoc. It's over."

"Easy for you to say," the other man panted. "Feels like… my legs have been dead asleep…got pins and needles everywhere."

"That's good. That's feeling." Moving to a crouch, he located Havoc's left shoe by touch. "Go ahead…. Give it a shot."

For long seconds, nothing happened. The leather under Roy's hand remained cold and motionless. The sound of Havoc's breathing disappeared as the air caught in his chest… and without warning, inside the shoe, Roy felt movement. It wasn't much, no more than a slight wiggle of toes, but it was movement.

He grinned. "I believe that's what normal doctors call a miraculous recovery."

"…I felt it." Havoc's voice shook, muffled behind what was likely his hand. Roy's smile dimmed slightly, but didn't disappear, even though emotion choked the former Second Lieutenant's voice. "Holy shit, Boss, I… I felt it. I felt them move."

Reaching up, Roy squeezed the other man's knee – gently, of course – in reassurance. "We'll have you back on your feet before you know it," he promised, standing carefully.

"Your physical rehabilitation will take time," Marcoh interrupted, sounding professional and serious, "but in the end, I estimate you'll regain 97% of your former strength and use of your legs."

Havoc's voice seemed to move from side to side as he muttered another string of soft, shocked curses to himself, and Roy came to the conclusion that the blond man was slowly shaking his head as he spoke. He was just about to comment when Marcoh's hand gently grasped his arm.

"Your turn, Colonel. I'm not as young as I used to be and this takes a toll on me too, so it's best to just get through it. Onto the gurney, please."

A moment later, lying flat with Marcoh standing directly behind his head, Roy forced himself to take one last, deep breath. "Whenever you're ready," he said. "See you on the other side… literally."

He was never sure if Marcoh chuckled at the pun, because in the next instant, the darkness behind his eyes erupted in fire. It was invisible, the flames curling and licking around the circumference of his eyeballs, worming their way inside. Roy felt his teeth clench, felt his fingers curl around the gurney's frame, felt his spine go as rigid and unyielding as steel.

Pain and panic duelled in his chest, rising upward in his throat. It choked him, wanting to be expelled in a scream, wanting to form the words 'it burns'…. But he held it back.

He was burning, yes, but he had burned before. Havoc had burned. Riza had burned worse than either of them, and she hadn't screamed. She had had the strength to hold in the pain… and now he would do the same. She was outside the door, no doubt listening, and for her sake – to spare her the pain it would bring her to know he was hurting – he would hold it back.

And in an instant, it was gone.

He gasped in air, sounding for all the world like a drowning man finally getting a lungful of air. His spine relaxed, dropping him bonelessly back against the gurney as his own laboured breathing filled his ears. Marcoh's weathered hands patted his shoulders, with quiet instructions to breathe and relax.

Roy consciously unclenched his jaw, feeling the muscles and teeth ache in unison. His eyes ached, but he kept them closed. "Marcoh?" His voice came out hoarsely, the muscles not fully recovered yet. "Call them in."

Footsteps receded across the floor, covered by Havoc's quiet "How you doing, Chief?"

"We'll know in a minute."

The door opened, Marcoh's words not quite intelligible between the distance and the low volume of his voice. Footsteps approached once again as the door swung shut, three sets this time. Roy wet his lips in halfway anxious anticipation, listening and waiting.

"So, how was it?" Rebecca's tone was meant to be light, but he could pick out the faint undercurrent of concern. "Do you get a lollipop for cooperating with the doctor like a good boy?"

"I'd rather have a drink," Havoc shot back. "All I really feel right now is pins and needles, and that really awful feeling when your foot has been totally numb and starts to wake up. You know, where you try not to move it because when you do, it kind of steals your breath a little?" The grin in his next words sounded shaky, but it was there. "But like the Colonel said, it's feeling."

There was a sound of some kind of impact that Roy assumed must be Rebecca engulfing Havoc in a hug. He didn't have much time to dwell on it before cool, slender fingers rested on his arm.

"Speaking of the Colonel," Riza put in, "how did things go?"

He was aware that he was holding his breath, that something hovering between nervousness and panic was shivering madly in the centre of his torso. He wanted to see her, needed to see her… but if he opened his eyes and it hadn't worked….

Her voice was soft, curious. "…Sir?"

Feeling somewhat detached, he forced himself to draw breath, beginning to notice for the first time that the darkness he had been suspended in for two weeks… now held a tone of faint pinkish-red. That hadn't been there before, had it? He didn't think so. That was a phenomenon reserved for when one faced a lit lamp… with their eyes closed.

The feeling of his eyelids rising came as though from a great distance, as though it were happening to someone else. A yellow glow cascaded from the light over the gurney, the bulb itself blocked by a hazy, haloed shape. Roy blinked, trying to bring the image into focus. He could feel the muscles contracting, setting off fresh aches and forcing him to squint.

Riza leaned over him, watching intently. The blurred vision caused her blonde eyebrows to seemingly blend into her face, but he could tell she was frowning in concern. Despite the fuzziness, he had no trouble meeting those brown eyes, feeling the near-magnetic pull they always exerted over him.

He saw the sudden rise in her shoulders as she tensed, realizing that for the first time in days, she wasn't just seeing him, that he was seeing her. Lips parted as though she were about to speak… and compressed into a thin line as words failed her. Roy was about to try to break the silence when the first of two warm tears splashed onto his cheek.

"Whoa, hey." He reached up with both hands, gently tracing a thumb under her eyes, wiping away the moisture there. "Don't start crying on me, Lieutenant." His grin was lopsided, reassuring. "You know I'm useless in the rain."

#fma #fmab #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #royza #royai #fma fanfiction #royai fanfiction #tainted blood

4 notes · View notes