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tiktaalic · 3 years

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Oh here’s the mary prequel mini series I plotted out in my head last night. cut for length because im polite but it is not That long

Episode one: mary walks into a fairly empty diner. Sits down at the counter pretty close to some woman she’s never seen before. Orders coffee. Sits there twisting her ring till it comes. Lady she’s never seen before looks her way and says rough night? And mary laughs and says rough few nights. Lady puts down her newspaper and says you look like you need to talk about it. And mary blurts out that she’s thinking about leaving her husband because he’s so boring. Woman listens sympathetically then launches into a perfect speech about marriage being a commitment and she should stay with him and tell him she loves him. Mary is like. Yeah. Okay. Goes back home to try to rekindle things but when she starts trying to tell John how much she loves him she tells him she’s leaving. John says ok. Mary is super relieved. She goes upstairs to pack. Hears someone at the bedroom door while she’s facing her dresser to pack, turn around, it’s John. He shoots her, she dies.

MARY wakes up next to John as he gets ready for work. Brushes it off as a SUPER weird dream and more proof that she does in fact need to leave. After john’s gone she throws together a suitcase then hops in the impala (John carpools) and drives till she hits a gas station. She goes in to pay and the cashier feels weirdly familiar till she realizes it’s the lady from her dream. She is understandably more freaked out. The cashier tells her to have a nice trip home. Mary says she’s not going home. The cashier asks her if she wants to talk about. Mary doesn’t respond and goes to fill up the car and then drives a couple of miles out of town before the car starts making this awful sound. She jumps out to look at it. Car is now smoking. She starts backing up and in a freak accident the car explodes and kills her.

Mary wakes up next to John as he’s getting ready for work.

Rest of the season: mary goes through a few more loops thinking they’re nightmares especially because she keeps seeing the same woman she’s never seen before and she keeps trying to talk to Mary. Eventually mary snaps and screams at the lady to leave her alone and the lady kind of furtively looks around and says I’m trying to help. Mary says I don’t WANT your help and then hightails it and dies again. After a few more loops where the woman is present but never approaches mary, mary stalks up to her and says. Who are you. Lady very wryly says your guardian angel. Mary says how can you help. Lady says you don’t want my help. Mary goes well I changed my mind I want it now. Lady grabs her hands and looks at her and very earnestly says, no, you don’t want my help. weird! Mary leaves. Dies. For awhile mary keeps meeting with the lady just because she’s a semi comforting constant. Lady keeps giving her advice that’s more and more rote just go back to your husband, until eventually she stops doing that and just listens to Mary. When Mary asks what she thinks instead of launching into the stay with him speech she just stands up and says I need to go.

Their meetings after this are pretty similar: the lady will listen, the lady will tell her it’s a hard decision, but when mary asks her what to do instead of saying “go back” like usual, the lady sighs and says she needs to go before she disappears. Eventually mary stops asking because she doesn’t want the lady to disappear so soon. they start spending the day just hanging out. mary takes her to her favorite places in town and asks if she likes them, asks what the lady wants to do, the whole nine yards. day always ends with mary trying to leave john and having a sudden aneurysm/tripping and cracking her skull/etc. after a couple of weeks of this her and the lady hook up and the lady tells mary that her name is anna.

mary dies again and the next day when she sees anna just starts crying about how she doesn’t want to go back. ends her rant with “and i know what you’re going to say, or what you’re not going to say, but just don’t. please.” anna holds her and holds her and after several minutes of silence says “i think you should leave.” mary’s shocked, anna’s shocked, mary has a heart attack and dies.

the next day mary tells anna that she wants to leave with her. anna looks conflicted and terrified but nods. while they’re driving or w/e anna is like mary. this isn’t going to work. you know this isn’t going to work. but i think - look. listen. we don’t have a lot of time. i think i know how to break this. i wrote it down, you’ll have to translate it - and then anna screams and she’s just Not There anymore. this freaks mary the fuck out while she’s driving, she crashes, dies.

mary spends the next morning hitting all the places she’s seen anna before. nothing. she tears up her house and all these places looking for the journal anna was holding before she disappeared. nothing. she gets more and more frustrated and it’s only after she like completely destroys an aisle at the gas station to no response from anyone that she realizes something is more wrong than usual. she goes back out to her car and there’s this guy leaning against it who goes. hi.

she asks who he is, he tells her to call him chuck. she asks what he wants, he says to help her. she doesn’t trust this for obvious reasons. she asks where anna is. he shrugs and says she’s under performance review. she asks if anna’s okay. he laughs and says oh yeah, she’s gonna be a perfect little angel for about the next ten years. then she’s going to have a great life. very loved by her parents. their little miracle baby, you know?

she asks what he really wants. he shrugs. same thing you want, really. for this whole thing to be done with. mary asks what he means. he waves a hand at her. the groundhog day thing. oh. forgot you don’t know what that is yet. the time loop thing. leaving, dying. leaving, dying. look. just go back home to your ever so loving husband, and everything will be fine.

i don’t want to go back to my husband, mary says. you love him, chuck says. i don’t know that i do, mary says. chuck frowns and tilts his head at her. sighs, twists his hand. mary feels like she just got stabbed in the heart. what did you do, she asks. do you love him? and she thinks about it. and she says. yeah. and then she thinks about it some more. and says but i dont like him. i dont like my husband. chuck claps his hands together and says. okay! what don’t you like? he’s boring. chuck smiles. boring! i can work with boring. perfect apple pie boy from kansas not doing it for you, huh? what about this. what about if he was from... illinois. what if it’s just been him and his mom since he was a kid, because his dad stepped out on them. what if the war made him a little harder, which you like more than him staying kind after the war. chuck laughs. oh, i like that a lot better actually. that’s what we’re running with. mary doesn’t say anything to this.

chuck asks her if she’s ready to go back home to her new and improved husband. mary says anna had a journal. so she did, chuck says, and hands it to her. it’s written in sumerian, so good luck with that. you can spend awhile trying to track down a translator, or. he waves his hand, and it all reads in english. she skims through it. will it work? she asks, and chuck snorts. no. of course not. you’re welcome to try. i’ll be here when you’re done. she leaves. tries the spell or whatever. tells john she’s leaving. dies. when she wakes up the next morning, chuck’s sitting at her table. we done with this? he asks, and mary stabs him. he pulls out the knife, looking annoyed. okay, yeah. we’re done with this, he says, and waves a hand and mary gets struck by lightning.

she wakes up. john’s getting ready for work. there are a few cues that tell us this is the same day. john looks over before he leaves and sees that mary’s crying. he’s very confused. asks her what’s wrong. i don’t know, she says. i don’t know. he asks if he should call his mom. she says no. he asks if he should skip work. she says no. he tells her he loves her. she says i love you too, and he leaves. she spends the day pretty dazed. wanders around town not realizing she’s hitting all the spots where she saw anna. goes to a park where a guy runs into her. it’s chuck. oh, sorry. he says. it’s okay, she says, not recognizing him. great day, huh, he says, and she nods, not really paying attention. bet your husband’s enjoying it, he says, and when she looks confused he points to her ring. oh. yeah. she says. sorry, excuse me, she says, i have to get home. i need to start dinner. he smiles at her, winks, and says her husband’s a lucky man.

they eat together. they sleep together. when mary wakes up it’s a new day. she smiles at john before he leaves and kisses him when he gets back home. end miniseries

#etxt #spnwatch #john/mary #jensen i am talking directly in your ear now. hire me

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is-trump-dead · 3 years

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let’s make a game. we have to make up the funniest way for trump to die. im gonna go ahead and throw trump sees trump/putin fanfiction and has an aneurysm. when the first responders arrive they see it open on his computer and think that he regularly read it. it soon becomes knowledge to all that trump had a crush on putin when he didnt—all thanks to his untimely death

#fuck trump #anti trump #trump hate

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romulanfucker · 3 years

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im going to have an aneurysm malcom and trip are stuck in a shuttle pod and gonna suffocate soon and all of a sudden it cut to them in sick bay and archer being like WOW YOU SAVED EVERYONE MALCOM but malcom has no idea what theyre talking about and then tpol starts sweet talking him but it goes on for like five whole minutes and malcom won’t stop saying “stinky” in his stupid little posh accent bc it makes t’pol smile and im going to fucking die watching this

#ent

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cheshiresense · 5 years

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Ok so Im going to take this chance and go wild: GiottoxMukuro + Bad Vongola AU

UM. So, I sort of just sat on this last one cuz what even lmao. I checked AO3 and omg this ship exists??? but there’s like just two fics under it. But alright, here’s my stab at this very random pairing, it doesn’t even quite get all the way to a pairing, but I gave them both page time and at least you gave me something new to try XD Sorry it’s so late.

ALSO YAY I FINISHED ALL TEN

1. Ok so! First thing’s first - how do I stick these two into the same time period? Either full AU or time travel/reincarnation fuckery. Let’s go with reincarnation. Sort of. Where Neo Primo is literally Neo Primo ;)

Tsuna is dead. They’re in the future arc, he’s being forced to take the boss trial, and Hibari suffocates him just a little too long. So Tsuna dies at the feet of his ancestors, and Giotto is forced to witness the death of a fourteen-year-old boy who had never asked for any of this bloodshed but had also never backed down from it, never folded, even under the pressure of so many Vongola bosses. And Giotto is angry. He has spent centuries watching his beloved Vongola become mired in blood and sin, built on an empire of corpses and suffering. He is so sick of it, of not being able to do anything about it, but his latest descendant is dead, and his body is empty of a soul, and in that moment, more than anything else, all Giotto wants is a chance to act, to be something other than helpless, to fix even just a little of what his bloodline has broken.

Will and Flames and desperation are powerful things when combined.

Next thing Giotto knows, he’s opening his eyes to a cold-looking training room, the remains of a cage that killed a fourteen-year-old boy splintering around him, and it barely takes a thought for his Flames to surge up and out and slam the Cloud - Hibari Kyouya - into the far wall with a viciousness Giotto had spent the majority of his first life keeping under wraps. For a split second, he almost kills the Cloud for his gall. A Guardian who could murder his own Sky - however well-intentioned or unknowingly - is no Guardian at all, but then, out of all of the Tenth Generation, as far as Giotto can tell, not a single one of them had had a real bond with Tsuna. The one who’d come closest had been the Mist, but after ten years and the weight of Vongola’s sins on his shoulders, even that connection had dissolved.

If Giotto is honest, the person Tsuna had become ten years later under the crushing pressure of that Sun Arcobaleno and the Vongola had been near unrecognizable compared to the boy Giotto had so admired. But that man is dead, at least for now, dragged under by too many enemies and too many bad decisions, and all that’s left is this younger version, dragged to the future against his will and forced to fight a war of someone else’s making.

Not even that anymore obviously, and all that’s left is Giotto, a bloody legacy to his name and too many regrets to pay for. All he can do is live out Tsuna’s life now and hopefully undo some of the damage Vongola has wrought. Tsuna wouldn’t want him killing this Cloud though, and so Giotto lets him go in the end. Hibari gets to his feet, something bloodthirsty and thrilled gleaming in his eyes, completely ignorant of the fact that he’d killed his Sky, and all Giotto can think as he recalls the way Tsuna had always had to bribe this man for him to even consider helping is how Alaude must be rolling in his grave.

“I’m done,” He says instead, slicing a cool look around the room, and then he walks out, back to his room. Nobody stops him, but Giotto wouldn’t have stopped him either, with the shadow of his Flames licking across the concrete floor.

2. Giotto does his duty. Ten years in the future is far too late to really change anything significant, so the faster he takes care of business here, the sooner they can all go home. In the meantime, it amuses him - in a funny world-burning sort of way - how none of Tsuna’s friends seems to realize anything is wrong, that the boy they profess their loyalty to is gone, and his body has been usurped by an interloper. Giotto considers himself a decent enough actor, but for a bunch of Flame-actives with Vongola rings on their fingers and Guardian titles to their names, they’re a rather oblivious lot.

(All of Tsuna’s past and present and future sits in his memories now though, and Giotto can’t say he’s terribly surprised. The person these children wanted to follow was never actually the boy Tsuna had been, not entirely. They pay attention to the parts of him that they like, and ignore the rest like they don’t exist. It infuriates Giotto, because Tsuna deserved better, but Tsuna is dead, and even if Giotto has every intention of at the very least demoting them from their Guardian positions once they’re finished here, he cannot truly harm these children Tsuna had called friends.)

So he does his duty, fights the battles people want him to fight, and smiles blandly back in the face of Reborn’s suspicious glances. That hitman at least can sense something is off, if only because his student no longer cringes or screams, but no one save the Vongola bosses knows the details of what happens in the Vongola Trial, and it’s easy enough to balance Reborn’s misgivings with that.

It’s fun though, messing with the pseudo-baby. The last time Reborn tried to shoot him awake in the morning, Giotto had set the entire room on fire and ended up singeing off Reborn’s sideburns. The resulting training session had been grueling, but it had been worth finally getting back at the man first responsible for more or less browbeating Tsuna into obedience.

Pettiness aside, Giotto does put effort into training. Tsuna’s body is in decent shape, but it could be even better, so Giotto does his best to make it so. The weapons of the future are something of a marvel too, and he smiles indulgently at the full-grown wing-adorned flame-pelted Leone di Cieli that gracefully leaps out to greet him, but in the privacy of his rooms, he lets his Flames swirl free and summons the phoenix that had been his constant companion in his first life, the soul of his Flames, his will made sentient.

“Natsu,” He names the lion, after Tsuna, and welcomes Persephone home as she does a sweep of his bedroom before landing light and delicate on his shoulder, the way she’d always done in battle.

The looks on everyone’s faces when they see her with him is enough to make Giotto smile for the next week.

3. It becomes clear soon enough that they’re going to need all hands on deck for the final confrontation against Millefiore, but even before that, Giotto begins asking some pointed questions that Tsuna had thought but hadn’t quite been brave enough to ask.

“When are we getting my Mist out of Vendicare?” He enquires one night over dinner, and smiles pleasantly as everyone freezes. “We require all the aid we can get, yes? And Mukuro has always been strong.”

“Jyuudaime!” Hayato is the first to burst out, chair skidding back with how emphatically he stands up. “We don’t need that bastard!” Giotto looks at him, not a twitch in his expression, impenetrable as ice even as he keeps his features soft, and Hayato falters. “Or- Or even if we do, he can just possess Dokuro! He can’t be trusted if we let him out!”

Giotto stirs more sugar into his coffee - rich and sweet, gave G a minor aneurysm every time he saw it - just the way he likes it. “So we make him serve, and offer nothing in return?”

Giotto waits out the confused spluttering around him. Reborn is drilling holes into the side of his head but he pays the baby no mind.

“He has been imprisoned for ten years,” Giotto continues in mild tones. “And has remained loyal all this time, si?” He glances briefly at Chrome, the younger one, who stares back, meek and mute. She is loyal to Mukuro above all others, and it would’ve been so very easy for him to influence her into betraying Vongola - betraying Tsuna - anytime.

That he hadn’t, in all this time, is… something. It’s something. The lingering threads of a frayed potential bond. The stubborn refusal to give up something he’d once perhaps considered his. A promise once given - keep my people safe and you will have my allegiance - and never broken, not by Mukuro.

People have often remarked on how similar the First and Tenth Generations are. Personally, Giotto has never seen two sets of people so different.

“I wish to free him,” He says at last, over the voices of those trying to convince him otherwise. “Loyalty deserves loyalty returned. Whatever else he used to be, he has bled in my service for ten years. Surely that is enough to justify his release?”

It is not a question, and everyone knows it. Reborn is all but glaring now. He doesn’t like this new Tsuna who does not cower even in the face of his bullets.

Giotto is spiteful enough to enjoy every moment of it.

It is Takeshi who relents first. “Okay,” He says, all easy agreement and assessing eyes, and maybe this one at least is not so far removed from Ugetsu’s blood after all. “But how are we gonna do that? Vendicare’s hard to break into, right?”

Hayato - the only mafia-raised of the lot - looks positively horrified. “It’s not hard, Baseball Freak, it’s impossible!”

“But Mukuro already broke out twice, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Giotto interjects, smiling at Takeshi, who preens a little under the attention and is in some ways possibly the most insane of them all. Giotto does have a fondness for those who consider laws as guidelines at best. “So, I suppose we need a Mist.” He takes a gulp of his coffee. “The Varia has a new one these days, don’t they?”

Three conferences, five one-sided shouting matches, and a hefty sum of money transferred over to the Varia accounts later, Giotto has secured Xanxus’ partly baffled, mostly irritated agreement for Fran’s services. Fran turns out to be a rather… precocious young man, but he has Mist Flames and skills that almost rival Mukuro’s, and Giotto is relatively content to leave the breakout to him.

His confidence is not misplaced. Days and half a dozen more battles later, with Byakuran grandstanding across from him, Giotto’s entire ill-fitted, misfit Family is gathered, and the First Generation appears at Giotto’s silent command to unseal the Vongola rings.

(All of them know what he is, the soul peering out from behind Tsuna’s eyes. But in this one moment, not even Daemon gives him away, and Giotto is free to finally unleash his carefully controlled wrath on the Family that had decimated his.)

Millefiore doesn’t stand a chance.

4. “You are not Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Mukuro - the older one - says in deceptively light tones as he joins Giotto on the balcony. It’s late, the night before they would all finally return to the past, and the two of them are probably the only ones still awake.

“No,” Giotto confirms, because there’s no hiding it from this man. “I’m afraid Sawada Tsunayoshi perished in Kyouya’s Box Weapon when he and Reborn attempted to force a Vongola Trial.”

Mukuro, staring out at the sprawling woods before them, does not visibly react, does not even move. For a moment, it doesn’t even seem like he’s breathing, and that’s what gives him away.

Giotto does not say he is sorry. He is, for this, and for too many other things to list, but whatever connection had formed between Tsuna and his Mist had been lost a long time ago, and sorry only sounds trite in the face of such a travesty. The only reason Mukuro had never drifted away, Giotto suspects, was because the Mist had refused to let go. Mukuro himself would never admit it, perhaps never even acknowledge it to himself, but if there was one thing Giotto had always envied Tsuna for, it was his ability to earn a Mist’s devotion so completely.

(And so it had hurt all the more to watch the years go by as Tsuna allowed Vongola to convince him to leave Mukuro in Vendicare. Hurt most of all to realize, one day, that Tsuna no longer cared so long as Mukuro continued reporting in and doing as he was told.)

“What will you do with my younger self?” Mukuro eventually asks, carefully void of every emotion save for the thinnest veneer of detached interest.

“Free him,” Giotto replies promptly, seeing no need for word games here. Reborn had tried to interrogate him about his Vongola Trial, and Giotto had given him every answer but a straight one. It had been highly entertaining. “If he wishes, he will have a place in my Famiglia. If he does not, then I will ensure he is able to start a new life elsewhere with his people, without Vongola dogging their every step.” He pauses, absently considering his hands, more solid than they’ve been in four hundred years. “Even Tsunayoshi’s fear of Reborn was not enough to stop him from asking repeatedly after you. This is the least I can do for your younger self when Tsunayoshi worried about him so often.”

Mukuro scoffs, a hollow puff of air that fades to nothing. “Had he a few more years in him, you would’ve had nothing to concern yourself with.”

Giotto inclines his head in acknowledgement but says nothing more. There is probably no one who knew Tsuna - who fought him and lost to him and understood him - more than Mukuro. The Mist doesn’t need Giotto expounding on the rise and fall of one of the brightest and most short-lived Skies the world would ever see.

“You will not tell the others about me?” Giotto asks instead, more curious than any kind of anxious about it.

Mukuro tips a mocking facsimile of a smile in his direction, looking him straight-on for the first time since his arrival. “What business is it of mine, if Vongola wishes to destroy itself?”

Giotto half-smiles, half-grimaces. He supposes this is hardly a surprise either; it was never Vongola that Mukuro swore unspoken fealty to.

So instead, he reaches out, gently catching one of Mukuro’s hands in his own and knowing he can only because Mukuro allows it. Mismatched eyes watch him like a hawk, a derisive curl on his lips that freezes when Giotto presses the flickering heat of a piece of Sky Flame into his palm.

Then he steps back, once, twice, enough room to sketch an esoteric bow, too formal for this age but recognizable enough here and now if Mukuro’s sharp intake of breath is anything to go by.

Gratitude. Apology. And a dissolution of debt and duty between Guardian and Sky.

If Mukuro so wishes, even after Giotto is gone, the shard of Sky will ensure a clean break from Vongola, and not even Sawada Tsunayoshi will be able to track his former Guardian down. It is all Giotto can offer him.

He straightens, glancing at the piece of Sky now settled into the shimmering form of a phoenix feather. A new life, if Mukuro wants it.

He meets the Mist’s gaze. Mukuro is the first to look away, fingers curling around the feather, eyes on the horizon, and he doesn’t speak again.

Giotto nods, takes his leave, and he does not see the Mist again, not this version at least. Once time straightens itself out, the adult Tsuna of this universe will return, and while Millefiore is no longer a threat, Vongola - and its Decimo - will still be the same stagnant bloodstained mess.

There is nothing Giotto can do about that, but at the back of his mind, he wonders if it wouldn’t have been better after all to have let Millefiore wipe Vongola out.

5. Later, much later, after a jailbreak and Daemon and a broken curse, Giotto and his Guardians - still no bonds, but he can’t seem to find a good time to get rid of them, so maybe instead of that, he can educate them to be better - sit down for a Family dinner at the most upscale banquet hall Namimori has to offer, with the Ninth and his men, the CEDEF and even Varia. They’re in public so everyone has their law-abiding citizen face on, but (a redo of) the Inheritance Ceremony is imminent, and Timoteo smiles, sly and pleased that all the pieces have finally fallen into place. He waves Giotto into the seat on his immediate right and doesn’t even question how very little Giotto resembles Tsuna these days, ascribing the changes to Reborn’s training and recent battles and growing up, and looking no further than that.

The food is good, Italian but cooked by the best chefs on Vongola payroll. Giotto stares Kyouya into grudging silence over the fare, and then he focuses on chatting amicably with Timoteo, weaving smooth flattery into casual but attentive conversation the way he’d learned to do a lifetime ago.

Giotto watched Timoteo grow up. There is no skeleton in his closet that Giotto did not witness him stashing away. But he is old and past his prime and he will soon learn that his successor is not as easy to control as he’d hoped, as he thinks, so Giotto can smile back now and give him his momentary triumph, smile and sip his wine and not let his eyes linger on every bite of food Timoteo takes.

During a lull in the conversation, he turns and catches Mukuro’s eye. His Mist is seated beside his female counterpart, all the way at the end of the line, farthest from his Sky to any outsider’s eye. But Mukuro smirks back from behind his cloth napkin, and as the Nono’s dessert is carried in, the faint twist of Mist Flames - unnoticed by all except two - darts into the panna cotta.

Timoteo eats his fill, compliments the chef, beams at Giotto’s gently filial fussing again like the kindly grandfather he excels at pretending to be, and nobody thinks to question how masterfully Giotto draws all attention to himself and his rowdier Guardians, never letting the generally jovial mood falter, his Sky Flames a subtle pulsing encouragement beneath it all to distract them from the knife at their backs.

The whole affair is a success. At the very least, nobody threw any food, no fights broke out, and no one lost their tempers. It almost feels like a miracle.

They part ways in groups, and to their credit, Hayato and Kyouya only try to kill each other after the elder Vongola party is gone. It doesn’t take long for Ryouhei to join in, and at a glance from Mukuro, Chrome scoops Lambo up and picks up her pace to catch up to a laughing Takeshi.

Mukuro falls into step beside Giotto. Giotto had asked, after the Arcobaleno business was finally over, if Mukuro would stay. Mukuro had asked what Giotto would offer if he did.

“A place in my Family, for you and yours,” Giotto had sworn. “And a hand in toppling the Vongola Empire once and for all.”

Mukuro had smiled, ten years’ worth of another world’s memories behind it, and six lives’ worth of suffering driving his answer.

“Tsunayoshi would never have chosen this method,” Mukuro says now, voice pitched low but as idly as if he were commenting on the weather.

Giotto smiles, grim and long past the point of any return.

Tsuna was his favourite. He reminded Giotto of the man he used to be, when Vongola was still a goal wrapped in optimism and determination, before they’d become embroiled in the mafia and Giotto had spent the next four hundred years after his death watching his life’s work build itself a throne of corpses.

Tsuna was his favourite, but he was also an ideal Giotto won’t ever be again, and cannot be if he truly wants to see this iteration of Vongola dead in his second lifetime. Tsuna would’ve been eaten alive by Vongola - Giotto had seen an entire future’s worth of proof of that.

“I am not Tsunayoshi,” Giotto says, and it is another regret he will have to carry, but their world is neither kind nor fair, and Tsuna as he was would never have survived it.

Mukuro studies him, a thoughtful tilt to his head, and something like fascination glitters in his eyes. “No, you are not,” He agrees. “But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Giotto glances at him, then ahead, at children who had almost killed and been almost killed mere days ago, now roughhousing amongst themselves. “The world could do with more Tsunayoshis.”

“The world needs more of you,” Mukuro retorts just as swiftly, a sardonic sort of amusement in his smirk. “In that other future, Tsunayoshi proved beyond a doubt that everything he promised, he couldn’t keep, didn’t he? And yet here you are, Vongola Primo, poisoning your enemies over dinner, and just yesterday you had me hide you while you met with Gesso and Simon and Giglio Nero in private. You certainly don’t waste any time.” His smirk widens. “If Vongola isn’t careful, you’ll turn half of Europe against the older generation before they realize it.”

Giotto hums and doesn’t deny any of it. “You would be willing to aid me though?”

Mukuro arches an eyebrow, and his right eye flickers briefly with Mist Flames. “Have I not been doing so already?”

Giotto nods. “Yes, and I am grateful. But lending a hand now is not the same as devoting at least the next ten years of your life to a goal most would consider impossible. And I am not Tsunayoshi.”

Mukuro’s steps slow, then stop entirely. Giotto blinks and halts as well, half-turning.

“Does that matter so much to you?” Mukuro asks, peering at him with surprisingly genuine puzzlement. “Do you think it matters so much to me? That you are not Tsunayoshi?”

Giotto half-shrugs, and Mukuro shakes his head. “Tsunayoshi had a heart that I will never fully understand,” He says, blunt in a way he almost never is. “He was naive and foolish, hopeful and soft, and it made him as weak as it made him strong. I could trust him to never turn on Chrome or Ken or Chikusa, even if they or I tested his tolerance, but by that same logic, I could never have trusted him to stand firm against Vongola’s ideals, no matter what he proclaimed. And I was right, wasn’t I? In the end, Vongola destroyed him, and he became one of them.”

He pauses, his gaze sliding away, hands coming together to twist one of the rings on his fingers. Then he looks back at Giotto, and his next smirk is equal parts challenge and approval. “You though. You have witnessed the results of letting your previous Mist Guardian walk free, and spent years watching your descendants commit atrocities in the name of strengthening your organization. If I were to promise you my loyalty, and then betray you sometime down the road, you would slit my throat yourself. But at the same time, at least I know - you are both ruthless enough and determined enough to see your objectives through to the end, with a conviction that’s centuries in the making. The current Vongola would have to kill you to stop you.” His right eye flares indigo again. “So I suppose that is where I come in.”

Up ahead, the others turn a corner, still bickering. Giotto thinks Takeshi has probably noticed that he and Mukuro have fallen behind, and of course Chrome knows, but neither of them stops to wait either.

Mukuro steps back, once, twice, and Giotto’s eyes widen as the Mist lifts a hand to brush over the earring he hasn’t stopped wearing since he got it. And then… well.

The Mukuro from the future must’ve known how because this Mukuro doesn’t even look awkward as he drops to one knee and bows his head, just a dip, slow enough to look deliberate, proud enough to meet Giotto’s gaze again afterwards.

“You asked for ten years, Neo Primo,” Mukuro announces. “So, very well, I will pledge you ten years of my life, for you to use as you see fit, so long as you keep your word. We can revisit this in a decade, but for the next ten years, I will make you untouchable to your enemies and sow discord amongst them in your name.” He smiles and it’s a mad and bloodthirsty thing, the same furious hateful beast he’d aimed at Daemon Spade when he’d sought to rip Chrome from Mukuro’s side. “And should the worst come to pass and I go the way of my predecessor, may my life be forfeit at your hands.”

He reaches up, catches Giotto’s hand in his own, and his red eye glows as orange and indigo burst into existence between their fingers, a blaze of light under the night sky as they twine together, fierce and unyielding and true.

They both gasp from the surge of power that rushes through them as the Guardian bond snaps into place, the first one Giotto will ever have in this body, the first one in over four hundred years, a core of Flame that promises a home, something Daemon had never been able to give him, and Giotto doesn’t even think before he’s yanking Mukuro to his feet and reeling him close.

Tsuna had been short for his age so Giotto isn’t quite eye-level with his new Mist, but it hardly matters when he curls a near-bruising grip along Mukuro’s jaw and sees the same hunger and possessiveness he feels reflected in the illusionist’s eyes.

“A Guardian bond is not something I take lightly,” Giotto murmurs, and he knows even without a mirror that his own Flames are burning in his eyes. “You are mine now, and I do not share. In ten years, you will pledge another ten, and another ten after that, and any who dare to try and take you from me, I would run rivers red with their lifeblood.”

(These oaths are old, old and binding and near-forgotten, bastardized ten ways to Sunday but still echoing of power, and even in Giotto’s time, only G and Ugetsu had sworn them. That his new reign would begin with one, when as far as Giotto knows, none have spoken them in centuries - perhaps it speaks of the dawn of a new age.)

Mukuro inhales shakily, not at all prepared for the sheer depth and intensity of a true Flame bond. But the grip he has on Giotto’s wrist is just as tight as Giotto’s, and it only takes him another breath to regain his bearings.

“As you Will it, Giotto,” Mukuro murmurs, and it crackles over Giotto’s skin. No one has spoken his name since his resurrection.

The bond settles between them, calm now but no less potent. Giotto lets go, tickling a tongue of Sun-tinted Sky Flame along Mukuro’s skin to soothe the sting left behind. Mukuro only huffs a breath of laughter, gaze still unwavering on Giotto’s face.

“Well then,” The Mist - Giotto’s Mist - smiles, quieter, more serene, like a glass-spun secret cloaked in shadow, but exultantly bright all the same. “Long live the new King. May your reign be long and prosperous.”

#khr #headcanon meme: answered #giotto #rokudo mukuro #G69 #vongola famiglia #headcanon #there we go g69 wow i didn't think i could do it #lmfao they're both prob way ooc #but that's how it came out

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bangtansfavwriter · 5 years

Text

📖✏bangtan as college students:jungkook✏📖

-the cute, quiet guy in class who will just stare at you when you ask him if you could borrow his notes from last week bc u were ill

- taehyung will apologise for his friend, nudge jk, which will snap him back to reality

- apologises and says that his notes are messy anyways, bc he takes notes in a way that only he understands

-you started talking after that bc he had to decode that shit to you

-shy bean turns out to be a super goofy dude who is scarily organized but with a system only he understands, and it works out for him, his grades are pretty good

- junior dance instructor as the campus dance lessons, besties with his senior, jung hoseok

-jimin and you both tutor him sometimes bc he has problems in some lectures

-one day, you were chilling at yours and you said that you guys should practice for an English presentation and hes like "I gotta clear my head first" and goes for a run, which u would understand in every normal circumstance, except it's 1 am and you're like "???????"

-he comes back like 30 mins later, but he doesnt look sweaty at all and you're just confused as hell + he comes back with a box of donuts which leaves you even more confused

-he did indeed go for a run, was actually back at yours after 20 mins

-turns out he stopped by at yoongi's bc he saw the lights on, "hyung said he'd give me donuts if I leave and I thought you'd appreciate it"

-supreme chaotic energy but he means well

-will lowkey have an aneurysm whenever he sees ur messy room

-cherries are a running gag between you two, bc after you went over to his place the first time and you became hungry after a while, opened his fridge and burst out laughing after seeing what was inside of his fridge: cheese strings, leftover jajangmyeon, 5 packs of banana milk (which was nothing new to you) and maraschino cherries ("I like the finer things in life y/n" - "sure..." - he stared at you without a word when you opened the cupboard and roughly 8 packs of ramen fell out, right on your head, and then laughed his ass off when you just said "hallelujah")

-actually very thoughtful and sweet, but also very mischievous, the two of you would play pranks on each other on many occasions (the prank war ended with a cup of very bitter coffee that almost ended your friendship)

-jk got shit-faced drunk at one of the biggest parties of the semester and started singing/yelling to snsd's "i got a boy" and started dancing, which you filmed, obviously, your host (jimin) himself kicked you out, after jk took some pills from a very shady guy and jimin and you started fighting jk while trying to take the pills away from him and jk accidentally knocked over a fancy vase that jimin got from god knows where

- you dragged jungkook to jimins place the next day bc you were equally mad about to whole ordeal and you also knew you sure af don't wanna get on park jimin's bad side

- jimin: .....

you: he's really sorry

jk: 😔 yes....

jm: ........ (antarctica could never)

jk: hyung pls 😔😔🥺🥺🥺🥺

jm: it's ok, i can buy a new vase🥺🥺

jk: ☺️

(jimin also has a revelation about how to trick people into giving into his wishes)

- you guys' way to deal with hangovers would be an unholy amount of ramen and watching movies all day (jk would take at least 3 naps inbetween, he once woke up to princess mononoke, started sobbing and asked "why are humans like this" and fell back asleep) he'd occasionally snuggle up to you while asleep & would be very embarrassed about it when he would wake up, you'd have to reassure him everytime:

jk: ...u sure it doesn't bother you.. ?

you: what can I say, I've grown quite fond of messy hair and snores, I suppose, oh and drool on my shoulder obviously

jk: are you my friend or my enemy

you: I could ask you the same thing sometimes

- you had an important paper to write before Christmas and you asked him to stay away from you for a while bc you know he would manage to distract you somehow, he respected it but didn't like it one bit

-and you were actually busy for a few days, you guys talked a bit after class and just texted occasionally, but he didn't hear from you for most of the time, which did not sit well with him, jimin helped jk out on this one and texted you

-jimin: are you done with your paper yet?

you: pretty far from it tbh

jimin: lmao rip

you: what do you want jimin, im busy😣

jimin: spend some time with the kid, I honestly cannot take this anymore, hes gonna go full emo mode soon, do something

you: lmao tell him he can come over to mine, I was just about to order some food, ill wait for him then

- you proceeded with your paper and jungkook was at yours 40 mins later, with Chinese takeout and laughed at your dishelved figure when you opened the door, then hugged you, "jungkook are you my friend or my enemy?" - "I bring free food to your place, what do you think ?" - "touché"

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