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restlesspazzi04 · 2 months

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Love Island: A Pazzi Fic

Part 1: Day 3

Genre: I've somehow managed to think up a forbidden love/enemies to lovers/reformed player/slow burn love island fic all together so imma pat myself on the back bc ive been getting so many asks for all five

A/N:

This is just the introduction chapter to a series that will be very loosely updated as it's more of a fun project i'm working on but hope you guys enjoy because this is just me riding off the love island hyperfixation im in lol

Extra Note: this is will be on tumblr only mainly bc this series will be trash and purely for my self entertainment so idc as much. slow falling will remain on ao3 only :)

ik some people have difficulty reading on tumblr tho so if i get enough asks i will put this on ao3 if its easier

word count: 3.2k (this will fluctuate depending on my mood)

Format Clarification:

When the contestant name is in front of the text, that means it's a cutaway and not actually said in the villa!

anything in italics is to be read in Iain Stirling voice please i love him

Day 3:

It's day 3 and it's heating up in the villa! Will the current couples pass the test of temptation as two new bombshells enter for the ultimate challenge? Find out here on Love Island USA: WLW Sports Edition!

When Paige first got the call that she was nominated for Love Island, she knew who put her name in the sea of women’s athletes picked for the show. With her social media agents wanting to get the “player” allegations away from her image to make herself more marketable, she was a shoo-in for the show.

Paige was confident in her coupling. Ellie, the Olympic swimmer from Australia, was up her ally of girls: hot, brunette, and gay. They had been going strong for the first three days in the villa, with Ellie picking Paige on Day 1 coupling. In the mess of drama the other couples were whirlwind into, they had remained together as a voice of reason.

“I’m just not really feeling her I don’t know,” Kate groans, slapping the ping pong ball back to Paige.

“Bro it’s been three days and you’re already tired of your match? Couldn’t be me.” Paige responds, returning the ball.

Kate and Paige being the only WNBA athletes in the villa naturally stuck together as close friends, being each other's confidants on Love Island. They had the common ground of basketball solidifying their sisterhood and frequently took each other's advice.

“It’s not that. I just feel like there’s no spark. Sarah is great and all, but I can’t imagine spending the rest of my villa time with her.”

“Why don’t you explore your options tonight if we recouple? That’ll start some crazy drama.” Paige laughs mischievously, wiggling her eyebrows at an unamused Kate Martin.

“All the other couples are pretty locked in and I don’t wanna be a homewrecker… plus they’re probably bringing in new bombshells today if I got the formula right. Hopefully, they’re my type because I don’t think it’s working out for me and Sarah. ”

“New bombshells? I mean none of them better be basketball players. That’s Ellie’s type to a T. It was hard enough fighting against you.” Paige jokes, slightly concerned at the idea of new people. It wasn’t like she and Ellie were completely locked in, but Paige knew she’d be at risk of getting kicked off the show if any of the new bombshells coupled up with Ellie.

“Ellie is not my type. She’s too nice. I need some passion in my girl."

“I like nice. She’s sweet and brings me orange juice in the morning.” Paige says, dropping her paddle when Kate sends the ball flying past her head, "Drama stresses me out. That's why Ellie is perfect for me."

“Nah, I like a little fight. It’s hot when a girl is mad at you… you should know better than me ‘Miss Star Point Guard on the Golden State Valkyries’. Aren’t women always fighting over you?”

“I already told you I’m not a player in the real world or the villa. Why does no one on the island believe me?” Paige exclaims, plopping down on the way-to-colorful couch in the Villa playroom.

“I don’t know… maybe you’re insane eye contact with everyone you meet?” Kate says sarcastically, taking her seat next to Paige.

“Blame my parents! They’re the ones who told me that eye contact is respectful." Paige argues before adding, "I can’t help I got beautiful eyes.”

“Shut u-"

Kate is effectively cut off when KK Harvey starts screaming "I GOT A TEXT" throughout the entire villa, everyone making their way to the poolside where she was sitting.

"Islanders please gather at the fire pit for a surprise! #WatchOutCouples #Bout to drop a bomb!" KK reads loudly, the whole villa shouting in response.

"Welp, I guess this is your moment to find a new girl." Paige sighs, making her way over to the fire pit.

"Not yours?"

"Nope, I'm pretty happy with Ellie."

"You sure about that? Not even keeping an open eye?" Kate teased, ragging on Paige's loyalty.

"I'm definitely not re-coupling with some newcomer." Paige asserts firmly.

"If you say so."

As the Islanders all flock to the firepit, taking their seats next to their partners, they await for further instruction.

“I GOT A TEXT!” Kate hoots out as the other islanders get excited, “It says ‘Get ready as your two new bombshells join you guys in the villa! #AreYouReady?’”

Paige looks over at Ellie, who’s already gripping tighter on Paige’s arm at the news of Bombshells.

“I hope they’re not your type,” Ellie whispers shyly into Paige’s ear. It was a cute gesture, one that should’ve made Paige blush. Paige just gives her a reassuring squeeze on the arm, leaning in to whisper back.

“I already got a beautiful girl, don’t worr-”

Paige is interrupted as shouting rings through the villa as two new girls make their way into the villa.

“Bro, can you see her?” Kate says, pulling Paige up immediately as two figures appear in the distance.

“Not with you jumping on my shoulders.” Paige retorts back, leaning up to get a better look, “They’re tall.”

“Wait, I think I recognize one of them,” Kate says with her eyes squinted

Kate: You guys are ruthless in bringing my exact type. Fuck, I want to stay loyal to Sarah but I do still want to keep my options open, you know?

Paige has to brace herself for this entrance. She recognized the two bombshells immediately as they got closer. The WNBA world was small and both of these contestants were prominent figures in the league. Azzi Fudd and Nika Muhl, the star guards for the LA Sparks would be joining the girls on the island.

“No way they brought in more girls from the league!” Kate whispers into Paige’s ear.

“Did they run out of gays for other sports? Or is the league just super gay?” Paige responds in a nervous whisper. Ellie had literally told Paige on the first day that her type was basketball girls and it was one of the main reasons why Ellie had picked her. It was not to Paige’s advantage to have multiple girls chasing after her girl.

“Wait, I know both of them. We worked out together at Kelsey Plum’s dawg class for a few days. She’s super hot not gonna lie.” Kate whispered lowly so Sarah wouldn’t hear.

“Oh yeah, I’ve met them a few times. Did you know that they both were gonna come to UCONN but chose UCLA last minute?” Paige droned on, her eyes oddly trained on Azzi as they finally reached the fire pit. It suddenly dawned on Paige that she had never seen the younger girl in a bikini and it set an uncomfortable fire ablaze in her stomach.

Azzi: Hi, my name is Azzi Fudd and I’m a 5’ 11” shooting guard for the Sparks. I wanted to come to Love Island to find my future wife and make a strong connection with someone. I have been in a lot of relationships and they don’t seem to go well for me, so I hope I find my match here!

Nika: I’m Nika Muhl and I’m a 6’ foo-

Azzi: 5’ 10” don’t lie Nika

Nika: Don’t cut me off! Anyway, I’m a point guard for the LA Sparks and I wanted to come to Love Island to finally find my love match and establish a strong connection. I’m super excited to meet the Islanders.

Another text sound rings through the air, coming from Azzi’s hand.

“Bombshell’s Azzi and Nika, Pick two people to go on dates with tomorrow before bed tonight. Have fun getting to know everyone tonight in the villa! #newcomers #shootyourshot!” Azzi read out, inciting excitement through the villa again.

“Hey you’re Azzi and Nika, right? Guard’s on the Sparks?” Coco asks, making room for them around the fire pit to welcome them.

“Yeah, we’re shocked they picked us to go together since we knew each other. You’re Coco Gauff. I’m a big fan.” Azzi gushes, hugging Coco.

“Hey Kate,” Nika says, acknowledging the blonde in the crowd as she scans around, “How’s the island?”

“Good. Surprised to see you guys here but I’m hyped. We need more basketball representation in here.” Kate jokes.

“We get enough ‘basketball is the best sport’ debating from these two. Now we got more.” KK Harvey jokes, motioning to the two basketball blondes in the pit.

“Basketball is amazing though, you gotta admit.” Azzi plays along, earning a few lighthearted groans from the rest of the villa.

“Just promise you shut up Paige before she goes on a whole rant. Kate just eggs on that little pest.” Coco groans.

“I’m never wrong Coco, don’t play with me. Tennis is fun but basketball is art.” Paige says, earning more groans from the group. “Do you guys know who you wanna pull for chats?” Ellie asks the two bombshells, jutting into the conversation.

“Um, I have my eyes on a few people but I’m gonna see for the next few hours as I get to know more people on the island,” Nika responds.

“We know you guys are in couples right now, but we just wanted to wait until we got to know more people’s vibes,” Azzi adds, looking around all the girls in the pit. A few couples had already gone off to different parts of the villa, but she was getting a good look at everyone left. There were a few people on her radar and a few people who weren’t.

Azzi: Kate was making some pretty clear eye contact with me, but she’s on my “pulling for chats” roster.

The group spends the next few minutes getting to know each other and filling in the two on the island news. Paige tried to focus on Ellie squeezing her arm, but she was distracted by things she couldn’t comprehend.

Things such as Azzi Fudd making flashing bouts of eye contact with her to no end. Paige was not one to falter at strong eye contact, but she couldn’t help but grow slightly nervous under the shooting guard's gaze. It wasn’t rare for Paige to catch the eye of someone. New people entering the villa the past few days had flocked to her, but she rejected them to no avail to remain loyal to Ellie. It was still fun flirting and making stable eye contact was one of her specialties. But Azzi Fudd seemed to be looking at her with a specific glint that Paige couldn’t pinpoint.

Paige: Did you guys see the way she was looking at me? I can’t tell if she wants me in her bed or wants me dead.

Annoyance? Lust? Hatred? C’mon Paige tell us what you see!

“So you guys want a little villa tour?” Kate asks suddenly while stepping slightly closer to Azzi, “It’s super nice.”

The group makes their way around the villa, showing the two new islanders all the spots. Ellie and Paige stayed hand-in-hand as they walked, Ellie refusing to let go. Even when Paige got closer to Azzi coincidentally, the shooting guard would make it a point to take two steps away and it didn’t help that Ellie was pulling her in the other direction. They end up at the rooms as they finish off the night, the girls entering their assigned makeup rooms to get ready for bed. Azzi is put into Paige, Kate, Coco, and KK’s room, getting spilt up from Nika.

“So Azzi, what do you think of the villa?” Coco asks while wiping her makeup off.

“It’s nice, bigger than I expected. Soul ties are a lot more secretive than I thought.” Azzi answers, unpacking her bags.

“Yeah, a lot of shit goes down there. If you go to soul ties at night we know you’re fucking or something.” KK laughs.

“Do you know who you’re picking for your dates tomorrow? You get two right?” Paige asks, speaking up for the first time.

“Yeah, two. I’m not sure who I’m picking yet. I think they’re asking me to pick in an hour so I have time to think in the shower.”

“What’s your type?” Kate asks Azzi boldly, getting an approval look from Paige.

“Uhh, I tend to focus a lot on personality. Just someone who can match my competitiveness and my energy. But if we’re talking looks, I tend to go for tall blondes.” Azzi says casually, immediately getting Kate to snap her eyes to Paige.

Paige: Is Azzi flirting with me or Kate? If it’s me, I’m in trouble. Ellie is not going to be happy if I go on a date tomorrow.

“Is there a separate shower room? I need to unpack my bottles.” Azzi says while standing up.

“Yeah, it’s down the hall to the left. That’s where our group showers.” Coco instructs, getting a nod of thank you before Azzi leaves.

“Hold up, was she talking about me?” Kate polls the group the second Azzi safely leaves the room, “Or was she walking about the other two blondies?”

“I think she was just stating her type buddy.” KK Harvey jokes, “Plus, she’s totally talking about me. She’s been giving me the eyes.”

“Really?” Paige chimes in curiously, “Like slightly angry but confusingly hot?”

“No, like she wanna look into my soul…What type of looks is she giving you?” KK questions.

“Nothing… she wasn’t really looking at me, just wondering,” Paige adds quickly. She was probably just overthinking due to the reveal of her type.

“Back off KK, you’re happy with Kylie. Sarah and I have been distant for days.” Kate playfully challenges.

“Kylie’s great, but Azzi and Nika are hot, not going to lie. I kinda hope I get to go on the date with them. Don’t tell Kylie though, she might kill me.”

“As long as you don’t tell Sarah. I wanna test my connection with the bombshells but I don’t want to blindside Sarah.”

“You guys are acting like Azzi and Nika want you guys. She could be talking about girls in the other room.” Coco jokes, butting into the heated debate.

“Please, Coco. We get it. You and Paige are in happy little couples and don’t need to worry about recoupling. I would say Kylie would leave me the second another hockey girl comes in here.” KK says sarcastically before adding, “I’ve never gone for a basketball girl before.”

“I have. And I know them better than you loser. Azzi said tall, that means basketball. She was clearly talking about me.” Kate argues back.

“I’ll be right back,” Paige says suddenly, jumping from her makeup chair.

“Where are you going?” Kate asks as Paige starts exiting the room.

“Just going to chat with Azzi for a bit. Nothing serious. I’ll be back in 30 seconds.” Paige says quickly, ignoring any questioning she got from the group.

Paige makes her way down the hall, knocking twice on the shower room door before it slowly squeaks open.

“It’s unlocked,” Azzi says simply, her composure even.

“Oh. Some people are uncomfortable with people coming in during showers so I always knock. Wasn’t sure if you were showering.”

“Nope, just unpacking,” Azzi says shortly, confusing Paige again, “Do you need to shower? I can leave.”

“Oh, no. I actually wanted to talk to you real quick before you pick your dates for tomorrow.” Paige starts.

“Sure, what did you want to talk about?” Azzi asks cautiously, continuing to organize her skincare on her shelf.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m in a pretty solid connection with Ellie and I don’t want you to waste your date on me because I’m mostly taken. You can still pick me, but I just want to be transparent from the beginning before we get to know each other.” Paige says while sitting up on the sink.

Azzi stood up from her packing, giving Paige a focused look of mild confusion.

“What makes you think I’m picking you?” Azzi asks with an even tone, eyes unwavering from Paige’s.

“Well, you said tall blondes are your type and that’s only me and Kate. So I assumed you’d use your two picks on us.” Paige says, slightly less confident.

Azzi steps closer to Paige, closing the gap between them.

“Is it true that if you take off your top they can’t air it because it’s nudity?” Azzi whispers into Paige’s ear, pulling the blonde in.

“Uh, yeah? They can’t air it. But they get kinda annoyed when we do it and talk about villa stuff.” Paige whispers shakily into Azzi’s ear.

“Turn your head,” Azzi says as she takes two steps back, swiftly taking off her bikini top.

Paige had never swiveled so hard, almost falling off the sink counter. Paige turned her head halfway before she realized she could see Azzi in the mirror reflection, leading her to close her eyes as fast as possible.

“I know your reputation in the league, but I’m not trying to air out your business on TV, so I’m going to speak like this,” Azzi yells out before turning around, “You can turn around now, it’s just my back.”

Paige opens her eyes to see Azzi’s long braids flowing down her bare back, the only article of clothing being her bottom bikini. Azzi turned her head to speak.

“How are you going to judge me on my so-called reputation?” Paige questioned back, getting offended at the “Player” accusations she hated.

“You ghosted one of my friends, so don’t act surprised I’m cautious of you. I came to the Villa to find love and take home the win.”

“So did I. You haven’t seen me with Ellie. I have a lot of layers, you’d be surprised.” Paige says with a smirk, her voice growing bolder.

“Layers? Yeah, ten layers of player. I know what you did to Alyssa.”

“Alyssa? Who’s that?” Paige asks, racking her brain for possible Alyssa’s in her past.

“Jesus, you don’t even remember her. That’s crazy.” Azzi scoffs accusatorily, “Anyway, don’t worry. I won’t pick you for the date, I’m not going to intrude on you and Ellie. Seems like you guys are happy.”

Paige watches as Azzi slips her bikini back on. Watching the muscles on her back contract as she pulls her top over her head. Her bare skin was addicting to look

So addicting, Paige was caught red-handed admiring her as Azzi turned back around.

“You sure you're happy with Ellie?” Azzi jokes dryly.

“Very. She’s a great girl. Exactly my type.” Paige challenges back, leaning her body toward Azzi.

“What is your type, Paige?”

“Hot, Brunette, Pretty Eyes,” Paige says a little quieter as Azzi steps a little too close for comfort.

“I see,” Azzi answers, nodding her head.

“Don’t think I’m calling you my type. You just happen to fit it.” Paige adds weakly.

“You saying I got pretty eyes? I know I'm the other two.” Azzi asks playfully, opening the door to the shower room.

“Maybe. Let me look into them longer and I’ll decide.” Paige chirps back, a surge of confidence coursing through her.

“In your dreams, Bueckers.” Azzi sings out with a laugh as she takes her exit, leaving a mildly dazed Paige on the sink.

This was certainly going to be an interesting summer in the Villa for Paige.

A/N: I apologize if this is shit, this is just funny for me.

#pazzi #pazzi fic #pazzi fics #love island usa #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #kate martin #nika muhl #can u tell im obsessed with love island lol #pretend it makes sense please

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jinxs-gf · 2 months

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The Human Spider

The Team x Spider!Reader

summary: you are this universe’s one and only spider-person.

warnings/content: set before the 1st episode of young justice s1, a few marvel references, this whole thing is from the perspective of the reader who’s basically Spider-Man so the writing is a bit silly…but I like it

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this is essentially an introduction to this world, I’m really hoping I can pop a couple fics within this little universe 😭🙏🏽 if not then…I’m sorry LMAO. only time will tell. ENJOY!!!

Life was good.

I mean, how could it not be? You got to fight side by side with some of Earth's greatest heroes. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash...oh and Black Canary and—

Yeah. It was great. Not to mention how incredibly easy it was for you to defeat the bad guys you'd fought. You definitely didn't have four near death experiences because of them!

Well you did, but they were completely your fault and not at the hands of a couple of phony villains. They happened before you got used to your powers and gone through extensive training.

It seemed like a curse at first, but now you take them with stride. Your super strength foreign as you'd broke nearly everything in your apartment (that hadn't been a fun thing to explain to your Aunt and Uncle when they came home to a trashed place). Sticky hands well...getting stuck to literally everything. The amount of money you spent replacing your clothes after accidentally ripping up your whole closet only trying to get ready for school...that was also not fun explaining to your guardians.

And the webs. Oh boy. You didn't want to think about it. The hole in your wrist that shot out webs like a proper spider freaked you out the most. You nearly turned yourself in to the government after that one. It was something that took the most mental work to control, the weird hole (yuck) closing up when you didn't need it.

The one thing you did appreciate immediately was the abs. Yeah, those were nice to wake up to one morning.

Today was just another day in your life. A simple mission happening in the middle of the city. Actually it was a pretty unusual mission, it wasn't the regular Ice Family or Joker cult you were fighting...but a Rhino. Seemingly a man in a Rhino cosplay. And his henchmen? Definitely not something you see everyday, but you have seen weirder.

Speaking of his henchmen...there was a lot of them. Enough to keep each member of the team occupied. They had insanely advanced weaponry, surprisingly keeping the fight going for a while.

You hadn't realized so many of the guys were on you now, all surrounding you and trying to shoot at you with guns that weren't spitting out regular bullets.

You look to your side and see your best friend (he doesn't think so but that's what you tell everyone so deal with it sucker). Speedy, Green Arrow's sidekick, Roy Harper under the mask, and Pain in the Ass (a nickname you'd affectionately given him) to you.

You were in a compromising position, one that you could easily get yourself out of. But now you've spotted an unoccupied Roy and you wanted to have a little fun admist the chaos.

"Hey pain in my ass! A little help here!" The men were now taking shots with their fists, all failing to land their hits of course. And your best friend had completely ignored you.

"Hellooooo you know I'm talking to you!"

"I told you I wouldn't answer when you called me that. And I thought I made myself very clear." Definitely referring to the embarrassing way he took you down in front of the team after harassing him all week with the nickname a month ago.

"Well you answered right now soo...."

An arrow suddenly flew right past you, nearly grazing your cheek. A couple more followed.

"Um hello?! You nearly took me out!"

"That's my way of saying cut it out while saving your ass. And don't your spidey senses detect that kind of stuff? Danger and threats? You should've seen them coming."

"Huh. Guess you aren't as threatening as you think you are. At least not with that silly little hat on."

He simply glared at you. He was definitely going to kick your ass later. (Again).

With your guys dealt with, you turned to watch as Flash and Kid Flash emptied out a school bus on the road. Well, watched was a strong word. The job was done before you could fully process what was happening.

And suddenly that same school bus was being throw your way by the Rhino-man. Directly above your head actually.

Uh oh.

CRASH!

This was the third time that's happened to you this week!

He had good aim, you'll admit. It landed on you perfectly, but thanks to your incredible strength he seemingly didn't know about (how could he not? You're literally the Spider-Person from tv! Spider-Person...pfft what a stupid name. No one seemed to come up with something better), the biggest indicator to this being his shocked face. Oh how you loved that look. You threw it right back at him. Jokes on Rhino-man, you also had incredible aim.

"It's gonna take a lot more than a school bus to take me out!" Although you could feel the nearly broken rib and bruises you'd need to get checked out before you went home today.

You sighed happily, dusting your hands, "light work to me. Maybe try one of those city buses next time? Might be heavier and more effective-"

The words barely left your mouth before a city bus was being throw at you, "Wait I didn't actually mean it!" You caught the bus this time. And although your senses knew the danger was coming, it was still a bus that caught you off guard with its weight. Your legs and arms quivered at the force of having to hold it up, you could feel every bruise spotted on your body with the strain and it was not fun. While your body healed faster than the average human, it definitely wasn't fast enough to recover from the previous hit.

The back of the bus was fully tipped to the sky. You prayed there was no one in this thing. And sure you were strong, but there was no way you could tip it back on its wheels without potentially hurting someone.

Luckily Superman helped you with that, seeing you struggle. He easily took it off your hands (show off) and maneuvered it so it was placed safely back on the road.

"Thanks Supes!" He gave a nod and his famous smile.

It was only a couple more minutes of fighting and cars being thrown around before the whole thing was wrapped up. The adults would give their words to the police and news reporters, blah blah blah...

While they did that, you and your best friends, the teens (the cooler ones) got together like you always did after a mission.

Superman is being interviewed by the infamous Lois Lane (the talk of the teen team, there was definitely tension there).

All while Wally stands a little behind them making faces and ridiculous poses for the camera. The rest of you stood out of shot either cackling or rolling your eyes.

Wally steps back, clearly offended. "What? All he's doing is flirting with her in front of a live audience. Remember what they said last time? No one's gonna be paying attention to me."

Robin snickers, "What? The whole 'no one can take Superman' 'but you sure can'?" He repeats their words in poorly done impressions.

"That was totally an innuendo!"

"Very mature KF."

"Hey! Robin and Spider laughed with me. And I saw Speedy’s smirk, he sat there trying to pretend he didn't find it funny. Maybe you should get that stick out of your ass, Aqualad?"

Roy, completely serious, replies, "Now that's no way to talk to the adults' favorite."

You perk up, "oh, me?"

Your friends immediately explode into disagreement, apparently in disbelief you'd think such a thing.

It was a simple story, how it all came to be. You got bit by a spider (totally cool about it).

Totally didn't scream your ass off because of it and stay paranoid the rest of the day, constantly thinking there was a creepy crawler on you...no. You found out the next day that you weren't actually paranoid—if you were in the first place, which you were not! Because apparently the spider had camped out in your clothes all day and night...

You totally didn't scream your ass off again that morning at the revelation.

You did scream at the sight of abs on your body that same morning though. And that's the only reason you'll ever thank the spider, forget the cool powers.

After that you thought it would be cool to use your powers for good, inspired by your uncle. You decided to have your own cool hero costume, symbol, and name (which you still haven't gotten. You originally thought of the Human Spider. People on the streets called it dumb, claiming they would not be calling you that). You had (unfortunately) been (TEMPORARILY!) named the Spider-Person. Which was insanely stupid and you needed to come up with something quick before it stuck completely. Maybe the Human Spider wasn't so good but it wasn't as bad as your unofficial name now!

Anyways, as for the cool hero costume. You had to use what you had at the time, which was...your normal clothes. Getting a costume online seemed cheap, and dressing up as an existing character in the media and saving people seemed wrong. It would only deny your identity as a hero. So you put on whatever clothes (mostly colorful pajamas) that you had, covered the bottom half of your face with a bandanna, and called it a night. And boy did that get you a lot of ridicule, but you got the job done, right? The only thing it didn't do was protect your body from scrapes and...stab wounds. You hated little knives.

You're not the smartest in the world and it's not like you had the money someone like Bruce Wayne could pull out of their ass and make cool superhero wear.

Once you were recruited by Batman, he gave you your own hero costume—no, suit. Every suggestion you made was followed. It was perfect. The mask had to be your favorite part though. Something you didn't suggest was the some type of magic on it, something called hammerspace. Basically you could have any type of hair, or ears...probably even a pair of headphones on your head and it won't show through. It'll seemingly disappear to this hammerspace (you weren't sure how it worked exactly, but it works nonetheless so you won't question it). The magic was done by a team member who was needed very rarely named Zatara. Another man with a silly hat on his head.

You attempted to try it with Batman to see if his bat ears would disappear (which was completely encouraged by Robin by the way. No- completely his idea!) He was not happy. (You got benched for a month...no patrols, no missions...and Robin got off scott-free! How was that fair?!)

Wally starts to bring up your part of the fight, specifically the bus incident.

"Hey isn't that the third time that's happened to you this week?"

You sigh, exasperated and playing it up, "yes."

Robin butts in before you could say anything more, "Couldn't you have caught them? Y'know with your spidey senses and incredible strength?" He has the nastiest smirk on his face. His smartass totally figured you out.

"Well yeah, duh. But it's fun seeing the looks on the bad guys' faces when they realize I'm not dead and I can carry a however many pound bus! Is that so bad?"

"No but it's embarrassing for us."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Yeah, our best friend who's powers include crazy senses that gives them insane reflexes? That best friend can't catch a big, yellow bus being thrown at them? Embarrassing." The one time Roy will take the claim as your best friend is when he's insulting you? Unsurprising.

Kaldur cut in, sensing your defense a mile away, "It is pretty shameful of you."

Your jaw dropped, even Kaldur of all of people was agreeing? Oh this is insane!

You point a figure at your friends, trying to get your threat across, "Well I find that incredibly offensive and you should all take that back before I-"

"Isn't the point of your powers to detect danger before it comes? How come that's the third time this week you've been hit by a school bus? It's embarrassing, Spider." Batman's monotone voice made his words all the more insulting. Your frown deepened.

You sigh, "Yup. Real embarrassing for me. I got that."

"No, embarrassing for me. I've got a reputation to keep up."

He walks away without another word.

"I can't tell if he was trying to joke around like you guys were, but I'm still offended."

"He was being dead serious. And for the record, so were we."

I wrote this before I wrote my Conner fic. I just realized I made Batman tease reader at the end of both fics…??

#young justice x reader #spider & the team #robin x reader #kid flash x reader #aqualad x reader #red arrow x reader #roy harper x reader #wally west x reader #young justice fanfiction #dc fanfic #I wrote this before I wrote my Conner fic #I just realized I made Batman tease reader at the end of both fics…??#hello

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faeriichaii · 9 months

Note

hiii. if it’s not a problem, could I request a Legolas x human reader where the reader catches the flu but Legolas thinks she is about to die or something like that because of how fragile human life is? everything very flufff 🙏 have a good dayy💗💗

Immunity ~ Legolas x fem!human!reader

A/N: Heyyy!! Of course it's no problem :) I love the plot I can picture it so well omg!! I hope you have a nice day as well and enjoy the story <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.1k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: Being sick is not fun, especially when you see Legolas' panicked gaze at your condition, which seems to get worse as the days pass by.

As you woke up on the cold hard floor in the morning, you could already tell that you were getting a little sick. The weather on your journey seemed to be not playing in your favour, cold wind was constantly blowing, which was sometimes accompanied by rain or snow. You knew it was bound to happen at some point. Letting out a little cough you wrap up your small sleeping bag, next to Legolas’ and get on your way with the rest of the company. Walking beside the elven prince, you gave him a soft smile. “Good morning Meleth Nin. Did you sleep well?” His hand grasped yours gently, as he looked down at you, reciprocating your smile with one of his own.

“Yeah, I did, it just was a bit cold during the night.” One of his eyebrows raised up as he listened to your slightly deeper voice. “Are you alright?” You just gave him a nod, squeezing his hand to reassure him. “I’m alright love, don’t worry your pretty little head.” A chuckle left his lips, as he leaned towards you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. Giggling softly, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Next time you are cold you can join me in my sleeping bag.” Legolas whispered sultry into your ear, while giving you a wink. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a cough as you gently shoved him away by his shoulder.

He laughed at your reaction, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you closer once more. “I don’t know what you had in mind, but I just thought about a little bit of cuddling, that’s all.” Your eyes stared back into his. How can anybody look so breathtaking? He tried to lean in to give you a kiss on the lips and you really really wanted that as well, however knowing that you’re sick, you turned your face back to the path, resulting him giving you another peck on the cheek. Scrunching his eyebrows at you, the elven prince gave you a confused look, before you let out another cough.

“Meleth Nin, are you sure you are alright? Did I do something?” “No, of course not but I just remembered that Gimli gave us a stink eye yesterday. He wouldn’t even stop staring and at some point, started grumbling.” You partly lied, trying to hide the cough that was stuck in your throat. Gimli did in fact complain about your ‘constant smooching around’, however you knew that this wasn’t the real reason why you couldn’t kiss him. You just didn’t want him to catch a cold. A few coughs escaped your lips as you grabbed your water bottle to calm your aching throat down a bit. The cold liquid trickled down your throat, helping just a tiny bit. A hot beverage would definitely be the better choice, but that also calls for luxury that you currently can’t come by.

After the long walk of the day, you all set up camp. The fire was brightly lit, as you sat between Aragorn and Legolas. You held your half-eaten bread towards your lover. “Are you already full? You only ate half of the bread. You need to eat more.” You just smiled at him softly and brushed it off with a ‘Don’t worry, I ate a lot during the day.’, knowing you just can’t stomach more because of the flu that really started to catch up now. His gaze glimmered with worry. “Now if you will excuse me, I will go to bed early. I’m so tired because of the long walk today.” You gave Legolas a quick peck before you stood up from your place on the log and made yourself comfortable on your sleeping bag. The elven princes gaze never leaving your figure, even after you fell asleep.

“Aragorn, do you think (Y/N) is alright?” The man beside him turned his gaze from the fire towards your sleeping figure. “What do you mean? She seems normal to me.” Legolas’ gaze drops towards the fire. “Maybe you worry a little too much.” Aragorn says, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, before excusing himself to prepare his weapons for the upcoming day.

The next day you wake up you can already feel the goosebumps on your skin. You felt incredibly cold and hot at the same time. A groan left your lips as you tried to stand up. The world seemed to be spinning around itself as you fell back down with a huff. Legolas eyes widen as he stopped packing his things and approached your side quickly. Worry gleamed in his eyes, as he held you in his arms. He put a hand on your cheek, feeling your very hot face. “(Y/N) what is going on! Where are you hurt?” His gaze roamed your body for any kind of wound that could have been infected that led you to an almost dying stage. “Legolas I’m fine I just-“ A few coughs interrupted you as you grasped his forearm for stability to properly sit up once again. “Aragorn, (Y/N) is dying!” He shouted from the ground where the both of you sat.

Aragorn quickly approached the two of you as he inspected you for any kind of injury as well. “No, I’m not dying I just got sick, that’s all.” Another cough escaped your lips as you grabbed your water bottle beside you. A dumbfounded look spread across Legolas’ face, as he watched you drink. Chuckling a bit, Aragorn stood back up from the ground. “All she needs are some herbs from the woods and drink some tea. Do you think you can travel for a bit (Y/N)?” He asked you, concern slightly visible on his face. “Yes, I just shouldn’t have gotten up that quickly.” You smiled at him before standing up with Legolas, who still didn’t let go of you.

Turning in his arms you wrap your own around his neck. “See I’m alright Meleth Nin. I just need some tea.” He suddenly hugged you tightly. His hand stroked over your hair as he breathed in your smell, his face in your neck. A gentle kiss was placed on the exposed skin. After a little while he slowly let go of you. “I thought you were dying.” He confessed. His eyes burned with an intense fire, as he leaned down and pulled your face towards his, resulting in a kiss on the lips. Gasping softly, you tilted your head to the side. His thumbs stroking your cheeks lovingly, while you let your fingers flow through his hair. Heat spread to your cheeks as the both of you separated to catch some air. “Legolas don’t kiss me! You will catch a-“ He silences you with another kiss. “Meleth Nin don’t ever reject my kisses again while you’re sick.” “But-“ Another peck was placed on your lips. “I thought you knew I was immune to all kind of diseases.”

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yellowocaballero · 2 months

Text

Naruto Roleswap Fic: Uchiha Family Values

“How do you do,” Itachi said quietly. Itachi always spoke very softly, as if every time he spoke he was begging you not to hear him. He looked down at the squirming kid, who had grown enraptured by Tobi’s ugly mug. “This is my brother. Sasuke, say hello.”

Promptly, Sasuke said, “You only have one eye!”

Tobi made a show of gasping, slapping one hand to the side of his head. “Oh no! Really? Tobi dropped it?! Tobi needs that! Will you help me find it, Sasuke!” Sasuke nodded his head furiously, ready to lend his ninja services to their newest client. “Thank you! Maybe I dropped it in the dirt around my house?”

Sasuke turned around and promptly attempted to run off and scrutinize a wide field of dirt. He was stopped only by his brother, who casually captured his collar and turned him back around. Shisui just laughed, crooked white teeth gleaming. Four of them had been replaced by replicas.

“I knew you were the right person to ask! Tobi-san, I need a big favor.” Shisui made a show of clapping his hands together, ducking his head pleadingly. “Will you play with us?”

What was this kid’s game?

There's only one thing Obito hates more than Konoha, and that's the Uchihas. Unfortunately, the prospect of supervillainy has not occured to him, so now he's stuck babysitting his cousins. Or, if you were to ask two of the cousins, babysitting him.

If you were to ask one of the cousins, he would say that there's more to Tobi than meets two Sharingan eyes. And there's nothing that Obito Uchiha hates more than that.

There's plenty of scenes of this AU that I don't feel are complete enough to post on Tumblr, but I feel as if this is one of them. It's a bit long, but I think I'd want to post it before posting the others. It's far from the first or last story in the order it was written or the order that events take place, but it's valuable context for the relationship Tobi will have with Sasuke and Shisui later on. I love Shisui. Shisui's fun. He's free real estate.

CW for noncon drugging (roofie'ing, basically) and constant background ableism. As usual I'm incapable of writing something without strong disability themes OTL. 12k of Uchihas being so abnormal under the cut.

A knock interrupted Tobi in the middle of his katas. After all this time, he still found them meditative and calming. He practiced them at the same level he used when he was eight, but that was the relaxing part: where other people had old stuffed animals, Tobi had old exercise routines.

The knock echoed again, sharp and impatient. The full situation processed far too late, and Tobi’s furious mental processing of the event could be summarized as: who the hell wants to talk to me? As a general rule, people didn’t talk to Tobi. Especially not Uchiha.

Oh, well. He’d get rid of them in under five minutes. It couldn’t possibly be a social call. Tobi threw on a bathrobe and opened the door, yawning widely.

Standing on the doorstep to his parent’s home was a mostly familiar teenager and two much more familiar children. The teenager was grinning broadly, the older kid had his only facial expression on, and the youngest kid was clutching onto the older kid’s hand and looking around curiously. What the fuck was all of this. What. Children? In Tobi’s house?!

Tobi yawned again, holding a hand over his mouth. It was eleven in the morning. “Um? Itachi-chan…?”

The teenager hurriedly gave him a shallow bow. “Hi, Tobi-san! My name’s Shisui. It’s nice to meet you!” He clapped Itachi on the shoulder. “And you’ve met Itachi-kun before, right?”

Yes, yes, Shisui Uchiha. Everybody in the clan knew who Shisui Uchiha was. But he and Tobi hadn’t strictly met, and Tobi hadn’t seen him up close and personal since he was a tot. The kid looked pretty fluffy for Uchiha Genius #5.

“Hi, Shisui-kun, my name’s Tobi.” Tobi looked around, seemingly really registering Itachi for the first time. He gasped, then broke into a big smile. “Itachi-chan! You’ve gotten so big!”

Promptly, Sasuke said, “You only have one eye!”

“I knew you were the right person to ask! Tobi-san, I need a big favor.” Shisui made a show of clapping his hands together, ducking his head pleadingly. “Will you play with us?”

What was this kid’s game?

Whatever. This wasn’t the time to worry about that. Most importantly, Tobi absolutely didn’t want to play with them. Tobi had never liked kids, Itachi was a waste of time if his parents weren’t around, and Shisui had an ulterior motive for asking. Most importantly: Shisui was committing a major clan taboo by asking this at all. Which would be one thing if it was just him, but to drag along the main family kids like this? He was shit-talking the village in front of the Hokage here. This had to be some ridiculous clan politics that Tobi didn’t want to get swept up in. And it was setting a pretty awful precedent to involve him in clan politics at all. Tobi was involved in nothing, that was the point.

Tobi broke into a sunny smile, clapping his hands. “Really? You really want to play with me? Nobody ever wants to play with me!”

“No clue why,” Shisui said, lying through his fucking teeth. He looked down at Sasuke, who had finally processed the eye comment and was engaging in the arduous mental task in determining that he’d been duped. “Come on, Sasuke, let’s play ninja with Itachi and cousin Tobi.”

Sasuke grinned too, unselfconscious and toothy like only a little kid could. Tobi could tell that it was the ‘Itachi’ part of the sentence that excited him more than anything else. “I call Hokage!”

Trust me, kid. You could have it.

That was how Tobi found himself playing in his backyard with a six year old and a fourteen year old as an eleven year old babysat both of them.

Well, Sasuke was probably the one being babysat. But the babysitter definitely wasn’t Tobi. They had tried to make him babysit a few times when he was a teenager, and it had ended in disaster. Strangely, Tobi hadn’t even tried that hard to sabotage that one. A passerby grandmother had seen Tobi coaching the kid through learning Katon and promptly flipped out. Tobi hadn’t seen the problem. He learned Katon when he was three, and he turned out fine. And yet they didn’t leave him unsupervised around children anymore.

The babysitter didn’t even seem to be Shisui, as he was happily rolling around in the mud with Sasuke pretending to be an enemy ninja as Tobi convincingly pretended to be kidnapped. Poor Sasuke was up against thousand-to-one odds, bravely holding back the rising swarm of enemies as he fought to save his panicked teammate. Shisui was having the time of his life pretending that Sasuke’s pokes with a rubber kunai were just as effective as hamstringing him. Itachi was the one sitting on Tobi’s back porch drinking tea.

It was a familiar sight, from a few different dimensions. Tobi turned around, ignoring Sasuke’s dart through the hastily summoned stone obstacle course to reach Tobi in his prison - how many jutsu did Shisui know? “Itachi-kun, come play with us!”

Itachi sipped his tea. “Have fun, Tobi-san.”

Tobi blew a raspberry at Itachi. Itachi blinked. “You’re still no fun.”

“Ah…sure.”

Sasuke halted in his assault on the enemy stronghold. “Aniki’s a lot of fun!” Sasuke screeched. “He buys me dango and then we watch Super Ninja and then he shows me cool moves!”

“Itachi-kun never buys me dango or watches super ninja with me or shows me cool moves,” Tobi said, wounded. Itachi coughed. “That’s no fair.”

Sasuke crossed his arms, nodding imperiously. “Make your parents give you a brother. Itachi did that. Mama says Itachi wished really hard for a brother and ate all his vegetables and that’s how I was born!”

What a birds and the bees talk. Itachi looked away, clearly embarrassed. “Tobi doesn’t know if that’s true…”

“Mama said so,” Sasuke proclaimed, as if he was dropping a bomb on an unsuspecting village. “Go back to being kidnapped right now!”

Itachi blinked mournfully. “Remember your manners, Sasuke.”

“Please be kidnapped.”

Tobi fell over, howling his head off. “Ahh! The evil ninja stole my eye! Evil men!”

“So that’s what happened to it!”

Shisui sat up from his prone position on the ground. He looked at Itachi. Itachi nodded. He made an impressed sound.

The playdate passed absolutely uneventfully. Tobi was rescued from the bad guys before he was permanently maimed, which was a pleasant deviation from the norm. Shisui was covered in dirt and twigs, but he was smiling broadly and happily swinging the laughing Sasuke around by his armpits. Itachi never said or did anything. He just stood by them like a particularly attentive rock. He responded when asked a direct question, but otherwise he just hovered near Sasuke or Shisui’s elbows. The kid seemed to be in a permanent state of begging you to forget that he existed. He never lost the tension in his shoulders.

Finally, the sun began to dip in the horizon, and Itachi told the others that it was time to go. It was time for Itachi and Sasuke’s dinner, and when the panting Sasuke asked Tobi if he wanted to join them Itachi tactfully rejected on his behalf.

“I’m sure Tobi-san is very tired after playing with us,” Itachi said, as if Itachi had done anything other than guard the perimeter with watchful eyes. “Say thank you to Tobi for playing with us today, Sasuke.”

Sasuke waved solemnly. “Thanks, Tobi.” Sasuke looked up at Itachi, tugging on his hand. “Did I do a good job?”

“Good job at what?” Tobi asked. He was also covered in twigs and leaves, but he couldn’t call himself unsatisfied.

Frankly, Sasuke said, “Aniki said that I have to be nice to you ‘cause you’re dumb. Sensei says I’m not good at being nice so I had to work really hard. Did I do a good job?”

Itachi blinked hard, which was his equivalent of a full-body cringe. Shisui openly winced. But Tobi just smiled, and he patted Sasuke firmly on the head. “You did a great job,” Tobi said. “Tobi thinks you’re a really nice guy, Sasuke-chan!”

Sasuke’s eyes widened, and something in them seemed to gleam a little. He bobbed his head in a nod that shook his entire body, and he hastily reached up to pat Tobi on the head too. Tobi crouched down a little and allowed him to rub his sticky hand on his head. It was the first time anybody but Gai had touched him in a long time. “Sasuke thinks Tobi-san is a really nice guy too!”

“Well, Tobi thinks Sasuke-chan’s even nicer!”

This has now become a competition. “Sasuke thinks Tobi-san’s the nicest in the entire village!”

“Tobi thinks Sasuke-chan’s the nicest in the whole world -”

“We have to go home,” Itachi said. He bowed shallowly at Tobi, who stood up. Sasuke pouted. “Thank you for indulging us, Tobi-san.”

“What does indulging mean?”

“...being nice.”

Sasuke crossed his arms smugly. “I told you.”

“We’ll be back to play more again later,” Shisui said, bright and eager. “See you then!”

Tobi waved the four boys off, and Sasuke kept waving until the moment Tobi shut the door.

Tobi firmly locked the door behind them. Well, that was weird.

Whatever Shisui wanted - had he received it? One of his motives had undoubtedly just been to socialize Itachi. From what Tobi could see of their dynamic, Shisui frequently pushed Itachi to act more like a normal human being instead of a particularly brotherly robot. But they could have achieved that with some kids Sasuke’s own age - or, heavens forbid, Itachi’s. Maybe he had been trying to warn Itachi. Serving as a walking, living warning was one of Tobi’s limited purposes around the village.

That would make sense. Calm down and stop trying to kill yourself on missions, Itachi, you’ll turn up like this washed up child genius. If that was the desired role, Tobi was more than happy to fulfill it. The one-time reminder and break from their duties would be sufficient for Shisui’s purposes.

Except then he came back a week later.

It was the exact same deal. Tobi acted incredibly excited to see them again - and, for just a bit of spice, acted a little emotional over how he really hadn’t thought they’d come back - and Sasuke was somehow equally excited. It was definitely just because of the time with Itachi, but Tobi had successfully found the right method to worm his way into Sasuke’s heart. He was just like Tobi as a kid: he would do literally anything for the slightest bit of praise.

“Sasuke-chan’s so smart!” Tobi clapped wildly as Sasuke proudly showed off his barest flicker of Katon. You could get more results with a lighter. Tobi had been charring off the faces of adult men at his age. “You’re so cool, Sasuke-chan!”

Sasuke humphed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding fastidiously. “I know. I’m gonna be just as good as Aniki one day. Then I’ll go on his missions so he can be home!” Magnanimously, Sasuke added, “You can play with Aniki while I’m gone, Tobi-san.”

“Wow, Sasuke-chan’s so dedicated,” Tobi admired. “I bet you work harder than anybody in your class!”

“Of course I do!” Sasuke cried heatedly. “Everybody in my class is so lazy! Ino and Chouji and Shikamaru and Ami and Kiba and -!”

The child continued ranting about his utter disdain for his fellow six year olds. Shisui just laughed and clapped Tobi on the shoulder. The touch burned. “You’re so good with Sasuke-chan, Tobi, I’m impressed. You were clearly born to be the cool older cousin.”

Tobi grinned, giving Shisui two ‘v for victory’ hand signs. “Tobi is the coolest, isn’t he?!”

“I sure think so! Hey, I stole some mochi from Mikoto-baachan, would you like some?”

Tobi gasped in delight. “Mochi, mochi, mochi!”

“Mochi?!” Sasuke yelled.

They sat on Tobi’s back porch, swinging their legs and listening to the cicadas chirp and whirr. Sasuke eagerly narrated his entire existence to Itachi, who nodded at the scientifically designated correct intervals. Tobi recited his top ten favorite mochi in list format to Shisui, who made impressed noises and empathetically agreed with him at the scientifically designated correct intervals.

There was something about Shisui. He was a sweet kid. Filled with the invigoration of youth, yet clearly mature and collected where it counted. He doted on his cousins, who clearly thought the world of him, and acted as their benevolent leader. He was respectful to Tobi as the adult in the room, but he spoke in ways that Tobi could understand and never made him feel stupid. He seemed to have decided that Tobi was lonely, that he needed a friend, and that Shisui was just the right person for the job.

In short: confidence grift. But what the hell did he want? Tobi was the most useless person in the village, thank-you-very-much. He contributed nothing to society and society wanted nothing to do with him. All he did was sit in his house or wander the village. The list of people who interacted with him was Gai and a small but mysteriously growing hoard of sympathetic old women. Itachi clearly had no idea why they kept on playing with Tobi, so it couldn’t be for his sake. Same with Sasuke. Shisui must want something, something he kept secret. But what?

It had to be a clan politics thing. Ugh. None of Tobi’s fucking business. The Uchiha were a lot of talk and they always will be. Last Tobi heard, they were muttering about secession again. They literally never stopped. If Shisui was taking that kind of talk seriously - well, he was welcome to his stress.

The third time they met, they were caught.

Tobi registered the presence before Itachi did. Afterwards, Tobi found that a little strange. Itachi was viewed as the ‘greater genius’, and he was obviously at hyper-alert every second of every day. Even in his own clan compound. Maybe especially in his own clan compound. Especially since he was looking after Sasuke. Tobi was a has-been, but he still picked up on Mikoto’s presence first. Maybe Itachi’s mother slipped underneath his radar, but Shisui didn’t notice until after Itachi did. Couldn’t they feel her step on the grass?

Well, couldn’t show it. Tobi laughed and left a gigantic opening in their ‘taijutsu match’, letting Sasuke tackle him around his waist. Tobi carefully fell backwards, pinwheeling his arms and yelling, and struggled in vain to fight off the yowling Sasuke trying to pin him to the ground with his bird-like limbs.

“I win!” Sasuke yelled, “I win, I win! Aniki, did you see me win!”

Tobi faked a growl. “It’s not over yet, Sasuke! Secret technique: Flappy no jutsu!” He grabbed Sasuke by the waist and hoisted him high in the air, making him squeal in delight. “You’ve been turned into…a bird!”

“No!” Sasuke wriggled happily, flapping his arms as Tobi began waving him back and forth in the air. “No, I’m not a bird -”

“If you’re not a bird, why are you flying!”

“Lemme go, lemme - Mama!”

From outside of Tobi’s field of vision, he heard Itachi’s voice say, “Mother. Hello.”

“Mikoto-baasan!” Shisui said cheerfully. “What’s…up?”

Quietly, Mikoto said, “Sasuke, please get down.”

Sasuke obediently wriggled, and Tobi slowly put Sasuke back down onto the ground. He scrambled upwards himself, tunic and wrapped pants smeared with dirt and grass stations, and twisted around to blink owlishly at the woman standing on the other end of his fence.

Mikoto looked the same as ever. Same hideously fancy kimono - jeez, Tobi remembered when she wore mesh shirts and leggings constantly because she couldn’t be bothered to change out of her mission uniform. Standing ramrod straight and perfectly elegant. As always, there was steel in her countenance. The woman knew which way to bend, but as a result she was unbreakable. But she didn’t look at Tobi like she was about to bend now. She actually didn’t seem very happy at all.

Kids were highly sensitive to that sort of thing. Sasuke scrambled towards her, running as fast as he could to the fence. He tried hopping over it and failed miserably, curling his fingers on the edge of the fencepost. He blinked up at Mikoto, who was not looking at him.

Tobi…broke out into a great big smile, pumping his arm in an excited wave. “Mikoto-nee! Hi-hi! Are you playing with us?”

Sasuke twisted around, boggling at Tobi. “Tobi knows Mama?”

“Duh! She’s my sister’s best friend, Kushina Uzumaki!”

Sasuke had never looked so horrified in his entire life. Mikoto’s lips thinned. “Tobi’s not an Uchiha?!”

Shisui raised a finger, omnipresent smile lingering stubbornly on his face. “Ah, Sasuke-chan, Tobi-san lived with some friends of his before they - Tobi-san is an Uchiha for sure. He just lived with Uzumaki-san and her partner for a while.” Sasuke squinted dubiously at him. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s good to see you again, Tobi,” Mikoto lied through her teeth, bowing slightly. Tobi tilted his head. “But Itachi and Sasuke have to go home now. Boys, let’s go.”

But Shisui just sauntered forward, hands in his pockets. “Why do they have to go?” Shisui drawled. “You said they could play in the compound for two and a half more hours. What’s the rush?”

Calmly, Mikoto said, “Their father wants them home.”

Sasuke’s head swiveled, turning the power of his dubious looks upon his mother. “Father told us to play outside ‘cause he has a meeting all day…”

Itachi stood up, awkwardly brushing himself off. Shisui had finally managed to wheedle him into serving as referee for the ‘taijutsu match’, and Tobi had guaranteed that he was a casualty of Sasuke’s assault. “Don’t question Mother, Sasuke. Let’s say goodbye to Tobi-san and Shisui.”

“But Aniki…” Sasuke turned big cow eyes on Shisui, who he could rely upon to contradict Itachi and guarantee a little extra fun each day. “Why are we going?”

“Yeah, Mikoto-baachan.” Shisui crossed his arms, planting himself like a tree. Itachi hovered near his elbow, nervous. Did the kid know that he practically clung to every ‘safe’ person in every vicinity? “Why are they going?”

Mikoto didn’t seem particularly surprised by this. Despite the insubordination towards the highly outranking person, she wasn’t angry. She just seemed solid, steady, and sad. “We can discuss this at home.”

“No, say it here.” Shisui pointed at Tobi, who just adopted a baffled face. “Say it in front of him.”

Mikoto’s expression creased. “Shisui.”

As with any Uchiha, the single world was weighty with meaning. Shisui ignored all of it. He turned to Tobi instead, firm and implacable. “Do you know why Mikoto-nee doesn’t want her kids playing with you, Tobi-san?”

“Um…but…” Tobi adopted a distressed look. “Tobi thought Itachi-chan and Sasuke-chan’s dad wanted them home…?”

A hair louder than usual - about as much emotion at Itachi ever showed - he said, “We’ll go.”

At almost the same time, Mikoto said, “Do not bring him into this, Shisui.”

“Bring him into something that’s about him? Say to his face what we all say behind his back? If I’m embarrassing you, then you should be embarrassed.” Shisui turned to Tobi, folding his arms. “Sorry, Tobi. I guess the jig’s up. We were caught visiting you. Frankly, it seems that the Uchiha gossip network’s losing their touch. I can’t believe that it took three visits before we were caught.”

Caught? Oh, this was hilarious. Pity he couldn’t laugh. Shisui really had been smuggling the three of them over here. Itachi and Sasuke had been banned from even looking at Tobi’s mangled face. How funny. How typical.

“Caught?” Itachi’s eyebrow creased subtly. Oh, this was too good. Itachi hadn’t even known that this would get him in trouble? Of course he didn’t. Itachi never broke a rule. “You said that people didn’t like to - you didn’t say that we couldn’t.”

Shisui smiled again, openly mocking and more than a little bitter. “Who cares if I do it? You’re the one who’s not allowed to do it. Why do you think that is, ‘Tachi?”

“Shisui, I don’t -”

Sharply, Mikoto said, “Shisui, don’t you -”

“They don’t want you to know who they’re making you into. They’re afraid that you’ll see your future in that face.” Shisui turned and faced Tobi completely, forcing his words onto his shoulders. “Heavens forbid you learn what’ll happen to you after you’re pushed too far.”

Everybody was looking at Tobi - everybody but Sasuke, who was confusedly staring up at his mother. Nobody was making any facial expressions, but Tobi knew these people. Mikoto’s body was tight and tense and deeply sad. Shisui stood like he was on the attack. And Itachi…

He understood what Shisui was saying. He already knew. Shisui hadn’t needed to say it at all - or he wasn’t saying it for Itachi’s benefit. Itachi just seemed resigned.

Meanwhile, Tobi just rounded on Shisui. He looked around, clearly registering the tangible tension and everybody’s clear distress. Kids were sensitive to this sort of thing. “Shisui-kun! Don’t say things that make Mikoto-nee so sad! You should apologize, right now!”

Shisui raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Why did it make her sad?”

“Because - um…” Tobi floundered a little, looking back at the silent Mikoto and Itachi. “Because you said Itachi-chan’s gonna get hurt like me, and - and he’s not! You can’t know if that sort of thing will happen!”

“Hurt?” Sasuke asked, voice cracking. He was getting upset too, reacting to everybody else’s emotions. “What does ‘hurt like me’ mean?”

Immediately, Itachi said, “Nothing’s going to happen, Sas -”

“Tobi was kidnapped by enemy ninja at the end of the last war,” Mikoto said crisply. She put her hand on the top of Sasuke’s head, but she locked eye contact with Shisui. “They hurt him very badly, Sasuke. He had to retire as a ninja because of his injuries. That is what happened to Tobi.”

And, as always, Itachi backed up his mother immediately. Before Shisui could get a word in edgewise, Itachi told Sasuke, “Remember when I told you that Tobi-san is an adult, but he doesn’t understand the world like an adult does, or do things the way adults do? That’s because the enemy ninja hurt his brain. But that was during the war, and that’ll never happen to me.”

Sasuke’s brow furrowed deeply. “People’s brains only get hurt during wars?”

“Let’s go, Sasuke,” Mikoto said.

But Sasuke dug his heels in, and even when Itachi walked over towards him and put his hand on his shoulder he didn’t move. “You let me play with Cousin Daisuke who only has one arm. Nobody said Aniki’s going to grow up and have only one arm! Why is this different?”

“There’s many different types of wounds, Sasuke,” Itachi said quietly. “Leave it alone.”

“Yeah,” Shisui said, “and not all of them are obtained in war, either.”

Itachi stared down Shisui, and Shisui met his eyes with equal weight. They were Uchiha, Sharingan masters, and eye contact between them was heavy. They were almost brothers to each other, and they looked two seconds away from a genuine fight. Sasuke was at Itachi’s elbow. Watching them fighting here, fighting over…over…

“Why are we fighting?” Tobi cried, fingers tangling in his curly hair. “Are we fighting ‘cause of me?”

Itachi startled, turning to face Tobi as his eyes widened a fraction. “No. It’s - I’m sorry, Tobi, it’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault,” Tobi tugged at his hair, hunching his shoulders. “Tobi’s sorry that he made Itachi-chan and Mikoto-nee mad!”

Mikoto glared hard at Shisui, who blinked. He probably had never seen her make that expression. “Do you see why I wanted to have this conversation in private, Shisui? Who have you helped here?”

Itachi reached a hand out towards Tobi, with an unexpected expression on his face - truly distressed. “I’m not mad. Please don’t pull your hair.”

But Shisui just crossed his arms, unrepentant. “Hey, you’re the one who started this. I’m sick of letting everything go just to keep the peace.”

“Isn’t minimizing conflict more important than the truth?” Itachi snapped.

Wow. That was more vocal inflection than he’d ever heard from the kid. Tobi helped the kid out and made a miserable noise.

Surprisingly, it was Sasuke who leapt into action. He reached up on his tip-toes and very lightly smacked his mother on the arm. Then he turned around and smacked Itachi on the elbow, much harder. Both of his family members just stared at him, shocked. Then he ran back towards Shisui and smacked him on the stomach, far more ferociously than he had whapped the other two. A clear hierarchy.

“Whatever happened to being nice to Tobi! Aniki, you said Mama and Father fought in their bedroom because I hate it and I’m six. Tobi hates it too and he’s not like the adults, so why aren’t you and Shisui fighting in your bedrooms?” Sasuke propped his hand on his hip, outright wagging his finger at Mikoto. She looked appalled. “Mama, I will talk to you in my bedroom!”

Tobi felt his fingers drop from his hair, mostly from surprise. The others were also staring at Sasuke in surprise. Sasuke huffed and sidled closer to Tobi, pointedly taking his side. He reached out and grabbed Tobi’s calloused and worn hand in one miniature fist, squeezing it with a feather-light touch.

Sasuke stared up at him with wide and utterly harmless eyes. “I get scared when Mama and Father fight, and Aniki says that’s okay. If it’s okay for me then it’s okay for you too. Probably. Um.” Sasuke glared at Itachi, who blanched. “Aniki, say it’s okay for Tobi to be scared.”

Automatically, Itachi said, “It’s okay for Tobi to be scared.” More hesitantly, he added, “You didn’t need to be scared. I wouldn’t get mad at you.”

And Tobi grinned, all unhappiness forgotten. How could it not be? Itachi Uchiha said that there was nothing to worry about, and Itachi Uchiha was the god of a six year old. His word moved mountains and shook the heavens. “Tobi couldn’t be scared of Itachi-chan, no way!”

“You should be scared of him,” Sasuke informed Tobi. “Aniki’s a badass who can chop up five hundred people in five seconds. If he wanted you dead, it’d be like - bam! You’re already dead.” Itachi flinched. Mikoto gave Sasuke an extremely pointed look, and Sasuke’s eyes widened. “Oh. Um. Mama can talk to me in the bedroom too.”

“Maybe we should all talk.” Shisui sounded a little more solemn, a little less sure of himself. But when he glanced at Tobi, his eyes were as bright and clear as ever. “Do you mind if we all come back later, Tobi?”

Tobi’s grin broadened, and he waved broadly with his free hand. “Okay! But only if you promise to come back again!”

“I promise!” Sasuke said loudly, on everyone’s behalf. What a bossy kid.

Cute, though. Awfully cute. Tobi even kind of liked him. When’s the last time he felt a single positive emotion about a member of his clan? Even the innocent, blameless sort just evoked feelings of pity and anger in him. But looking at Sasuke now, bubbly little face so firm and dedicated, Tobi could only feel the faint stirrings of fondness. He was a good kid. Not like the rest of them.

It didn’t matter. At his age, Tobi had two B-rank missions under his belt. He’d killed - some quantity of people, Minato had always hid his own mission reports. Innocence just meant that the shit hadn’t happened yet. Give it ten years and Sasuke would end up just like the rest of his misbegotten family. There was nothing Tobi could do to change that.

He had tried. For Itachi’s sake, he had tried. He had never mentioned it, and maybe he didn’t remember, but Tobi had visited him pretty often when the kid was much younger. Unannounced and uninvited. Tobi usually only got away with a few minutes, but he made the minutes count. Mostly through relentlessly bullying Fugaku and Mikoto.

“Itachi-chan’s so cute!” Tobi had squealed, balancing on a pole on the exclusive main branch family training yard. It was sealed for privacy. Nobody knew how he had gotten inside. “Tobi remembers learning the same jutsu when he was that age! Is Itachi-chan in wetworks too?”

Tobi would knock on the door, asking for Itachi when he knew full well that the boy was on a mission. “Itachi-chan’s on another mission?” Tobi would ask, faux surprised. “Itachi-chan works so hard! Is Itachi-chan going to beat Tobi’s record for most missions at that age? There’s not really a prize…”

Shisui thought he was clever. He was beating his head against a brick wall. Tobi had tried to do exactly what he was doing. Many clan members had done what he was doing, if far more politely and stiffly.

It was no secret that Fugaku wanted Itachi to surpass Obito Uchiha. In some ways, he would: Obito hadn’t had the opportunity to become ANBU. In other ways, it was straight-up blatantly impossible. The petition to allow a young ninja to skip the Academy and test directly into genin just didn’t exist in peace time. Maybe Itachi had the record for youngest graduation, but Obito had skipped it. The number of missions, the number of kills, the number of B and A ranks: Itachi couldn’t catch up. And it fucking killed Fugaku.

And Obito’s Sharingan was the best. Everybody knew it. It was still the best, although nobody knew that. No amount of pushing Itachi would change reality.

But maybe it was necessary. Maybe Itachi would have to surpass Obito. Because if he didn’t surpass Obito then he would become Obito, and that was the silent and loudest fear of the clan.

The fear that only Shisui Uchiha had ever vocalized in front of Tobi. Only he had ever looked at Tobi as he said it. He had even winked at Tobi as he left. What sort of confidence grift involved saying the cruelest thing in front of the most fragile person?

When Shisui Uchiha returned, he returned alone. He knocked on Tobi’s door late at night, hoisting a large bottle of sake in the air and smiling brightly. Tobi was mildly surprised. All things considered, you could roughly equivocate that to shock.

“Shisui-kun?” Tobi craned his head, looking over Shisui’s shoulder. All he saw were cicadas grinding their gears in the thick night. “Where’s Itachi-chan and Sasuke-chan?”

“Just me this time.” Shisui held out the sake bottle, grin widening. “May I come in?”

“Um…” Tobi leaned away a little, nose wrinkling. “Booze smells bad…”

“More for me, then!”

Somehow, Tobi found himself sitting at his kotatsu as Shisui surveyed his house with undisguised interest. It was as messy and dirty as he probably expected, since Tobi really couldn’t work up the fucks necessary to keep it clean. The occasional grandmother always insisted on cleaning the whole thing top to bottom, so it never got too filthy. The fridge was full of food. Obito hadn’t seen the point in cooking, so Tobi enjoyed it well enough. It could be time intensive, but he had more than enough time on his hands. He gave a lot of it away to the grandmothers or injured ninja or new mothers anyway.

Shisui shamelessly poked his head into the back rooms. He’d find Tobi’s childhood bedroom cluttered with shelves of puzzles and games - Gai was always giving them to him - and a master bedroom full of boxes and giant racks of scrolls. Shisui had given him a curious look.

“Sensei and Kushina-nee left their stuff to me.” As well as their money, which was mostly locked up in a trust and dispensed to Tobi in an allowance. “I’m holding it for Naruto.” Shisui flinched. Tobi pretended he didn’t notice. “A lot of it is in storage, but I keep some of it here ‘cause it gets lonely by itself.”

Left unsaid: as Naruto was undoubtedly fucking lonely by himself. The kid’s ANBU guard wouldn’t even let him into the orphanage, so Tobi was forced to wait however long before he left. Hopefully by the time he was a genin he would be old enough to receive his family’s possessions and every story associated.

Shiui stuck his head inside a particularly heavy box, prodding the textbooks with one finger. “The Fourth knew medical ninjutsu?”

“Rin-chan left me her ninja gear. Said her parents wouldn’t want anything like it.” Tobi twirled a strand of hair around his finger, looking up at the ceiling. “Kakashi-kun left the Hatake stuff to Sensei, so that’s mine now too. I have to hire genin to clean out the house sometimes…”

Shisui almost fell into the box. He stepped back out into the hallway, apparently shocked. “You own the Hatake clan compounds?”

“Who else would?” Tobi shrugged, unbothered. “The house is probably really lonely, but Kakashi-kun wanted it that way. Tobi wants to give it to Naruto when he grows up.”

“You must care about the ki - Naruto a lot.” Shisui stepped back into the main room, moving towards the windows and glancing out from behind the drawn curtains. “You seem like a kind person, Tobi.”

Tobi just shrugged again. “It’s not Tobi’s things, so…”

“But you care about the things. You want them to be with somebody who would love them.” Shisui rattled the last window a little bit, satisfied, before moving back towards Tobi and sitting down across from him. “Your sensei’s scrolls look really cool. Can you read them?” Tobi stuck out his tongue and shook his head. “Aw, I wonder if they’re bored. Would it be alright if I read a few of them? They seem really cool to me!”

Whatever. Wasn’t as if Minato had any clan secrets. He had secret techniques, but Tobi had stuck those in a sealing scroll in the hollow of a tree. Impossible to access if you didn’t have an eye that turned you into a ghost. “Okay! Shisui’s my friend, he can read them for sure!”

“I’m glad we’re friends, Tobi,” Shisui said earnestly. He poured them both bowls of sake, holding one out to Tobi. “I’m always hanging out and having drinks with my friends, so I thought it’d be fun to do it with you too. This sake’s really nice and sweet, do you want to have a drink with me?”

Was this kid seriously trying to get him drunk? The absolute lack of ethics was pretty impressive. He knew he didn’t even have to be subtle about it, so he was acting completely shamelessly. But his phrasing was precise: Tobi always wanted to make friends and to be treated like anybody else, so he would accept the drink.

Tobi would have one or two, and if Shisui kept pressing then he’d use a jutsu to metabolize the rest. Then he’d snitch to Itachi. So Tobi cautiously took the sake bowl, sniffing it dubiously, but when Shisui knocked it back Tobi copied him.

“You were telling me about your favorite television shows earlier, right?” Shisui said, replacing his bowl on the table. His posture was absolutely open and friendly, and his words were easy-going but gentle. “Mega Warriors? What’s happening in the new season?”

“The Village Hidden In The Cave exploded!” Tobi cried heatedly. “It was awesome!”

Honestly speaking, Tobi genuinely loved that show. It killed higher brain functions. Good, clean action fun. He had developed a real taste for television and movies - stuff he never watched as a kid, stuff he barely knew existed. Maybe he watched a bit too much television, but that was the infinite joys of retirement. At least he didn’t sit on his front porch chewing tobacco leaves like every other retired ninja.

Shisui did a great job faking interest. Tobi had to assume it was fake: he had no tells, but no teenager would actually give a shit about a children’s television show. Eventually even Tobi was forced to take pity on the man and switch subjects. It said a lot that Tobi purposefully chose to stop being annoying, boring, stupid, or grating on somebody’s nerves. Fuck, maybe they were friends.

“Um, Shisui-kun?” Tobi swirled his bowl of sake absently. Shisui had refilled his bowl twice, but any more than two might be trouble. Kid really was trying to get him drunk. If he was so dead-set to lower Tobi’s defenses, then Tobi could counter-attack. “Why did you say those things to Mikoto-nee the other day?”

Shisui seemed surprised at the topic change from kid’s shows, but he sobered quickly. He leaned forward, gesturing at Tobi with his own sake bowl. “Because nobody was standing up for you. Nobody ever stands up for you, even when you need it. I wanted to let you know that I was on your side.”

Even Tobi wouldn’t buy this. He looked at Shisui a little skeptically. “Shisui-kun can be nice without being naughty and causing trouble.”

Shisui’s smile was rakish and sharp. “Sometimes a little trouble is what’s best for everybody. Loving somebody doesn’t mean always being nice to them. It means doing what’s best for them. You get that, right?”

“Um…maybe.” Tobi placed the sake bowl on the table, looking away a little awkwardly. “Sensei and Kushina-nee were nice too, though…”

“You think they did what was best for you?” Shisui asked quietly, and Tobi eagerly nodded. His expression softened. “I’m glad. I’m glad that people who loved you were nice and looked out for you. I’m getting worse and worse at the former, but Itachi says I’m not bad at the latter. Thank you for being patient with me.”

“It’s okay! Shisui-kun’s family.” Tobi hated his family more than he hated this village, which said a lot, but that wasn’t the right look. “Tobi thinks Shisui-kun’s really nice, so don’t say bad things about yourself.”

“Thank you, Tobi. We’re family, huh?” Shisui leaned in, dull eyes glinting in the soft lantern light. “Does that mean you trust me?”

He’d gotten to the point, then. Either Shisui decided it was the right time to make his move, or he decided that he couldn’t afford to wait any longer. If this was Tobi’s op he would have stretched it out for way longer, but he didn’t know what kind of time limit Shisui was working under. And Tobi had the habit of playing the long game, anyway.

Tobi bobbed his head in an enthusiastic nod, brimming with puppy-like sincerity. “Yeah! We’re family, and Shisui-kun is nice!”

With an odd and sideways sincerity, Shisui said, “Thank you for the trust.” He fell silent for a second, drumming his fingers on the table, before finally speaking again. “I hope you don’t mind, but I put some seals on the windowsills. We’re completely in private right now. Nobody can hear or see us.”

Tobi squinted at him, confused. Maybe he was a bit confused - his alcohol tolerance must have taken a hit over the years. He felt a bit too fuzzy and light for two bowls of sake. “Why did Shisui-kun do that…?”

“So you know that you’re safe,” Shisui said earnestly. He leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. “It’s just you and me, alright? I want you to know that nobody will ever know what we tell each other right now. I’m pretty good at keeping a secret. So is it okay if I ask you to tell me a secret right now?”

How far should Tobi let Shisui take this? He was making his move, and Tobi was admittedly deathly curious to know what he wanted. To know if he needed to deflect anything, and what he needed to deflect. If Shisui was onto him.

He couldn’t be onto him. The idea of him faking it hadn’t even crossed a single Uchiha mind. But Itachi and Shisui’s words echoed loud and clear in Tobi’s mind: that there were many different types of wounds, and many of them hadn’t occurred during war. Tobi would be unsurprised if Shisui had some idea that the damage was psychological instead of neurological. Genma, Kurenai, and Sarutobi had believed the same. Which was close to being onto him, but still very far from actually being onto him.

Focus, focus. It was more difficult than it should have been: the alcohol had hit him strangely hard, leaving him fuzzy and out-of-sorts, and -

The kid had drugged him. Son of a fucking bitch. Letting himself be drugged, fucking amateur hour up in here. He wasn’t up to date on his drug and toxin immunity conditioning. How could he not check the sake for drugs? He knew that the kid was running a grift on him, he should have been more careful. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

What was the specific kind of drug? Fuck, he couldn’t remember. It was definitely a sedative, maybe even a tranquilizer. Why would he use this specific type? Increase physical vulnerability - no point in that, Tobi wasn’t much of a combatant. Induce relaxation and calmness - maybe, if he was trying to avoid a meltdown. Make him more suggestible - that was certain. That had to be it.

So Tobi relaxed, letting his gaze soften and muscles untense. A hair slowly, he said, “I guess, if Shisui’s asking.”

Shisui’s eyes were dark and dull, and the lines under his eyes were almost as thick as Itachi’s. There was something deep and weighty in them, the Sharingan’s power palpable even when it was deactivated. You could grow lost in those eyes. Or suffocated by them.

“Will you show me your Sharingan?”

That was it. That was what Shisui had been after all this time. What the fuck else was anybody ever after. Tobi would give him the same answer he gave everybody. He shook his head and frowned. “Tobi can’t use the Sharingan anymore. Everybody knows that, Shisui.”

“If I walk you through the process, do you think you’ll be able to do it?” Shisui asked. “Do you need help molding the chakra? I can -”

“Tobi can’t do it,” Tobi said firmly. He’d had this conversation again and again and again. “Tobi hasn’t been able to do it for a very, very long time! Tobi’s tried! Tobi’s very sorry, but he can’t help Shisui-kun.”

“Were you awake when they took out your eye, Tobi?”

A hand pressed against the eyepatch, and Tobi realized too late it was his own. He couldn’t say anything. He should have a meltdown and chase off Shisui. But he had the feeling that Shisui couldn’t be chased away so easily.

“It must have been really scary,” Shisui said. Voice lilting, eyes dark. Almost hypnotic. “I know the Sharingan’s really scary too. But I need to see your Sharingan, Tobi. It’s really important. Won’t you show it to me?”

Tobi shook his head. He turned away, fully hiding his face. “No. Tobi can’t.”

“I think you’re capable of using it. I think the Sharingan’s very scary, and you don’t want to. But I think you can do it. Tobi, please.” Shisui leaned forward, heavy gaze pinning Tobi in place. “You have no idea how important this is. Please just show me your Sharingan.”

Tobi buried his face in his arms, squeezing his eye shut and separating himself from Shisui as thoroughly as he could without moving an inch. “No! Leave me alone, I can’t do it!”

“Look at me. Look at me, Tobi, please. Does your Sharingan look something like this?”

And, despite himself, Tobi looked.

Shisui’s eyes were blood red, and his pupils were spinning lazily. It kind of reminded Tobi of a shuriken, circular but sharp and ready to cut. It was fatter and softer than Tobi’s own, but it was similar enough that it was unmistakable.

Shisui Uchiha had the Mangekyo Sharingan.

Interesting. Tobi had thought he was the only one to unlock it since the Founder’s Era. That was what the scrolls seemed to imply, anyway. He had to do some serious digging and hunting and thieving before getting his hands on those top-secret scrolls, but it had been worth it. Anything was worth it, just to learn what the fuck had happened to him.

Guilt. Tobi eventually surmised that only the most intense guilt could unlock the Mangekyo. Tobi wondered what had made Shisui feel so guilty. Clearly it hadn’t stopped him from continuing to do morally dubious shit. After a guilt so intense and crushing, drugging his brain damaged cousin probably wouldn’t register on his radar.

“Your eye’s weird,” Tobi cried, horrified. “What did you do to your eye?”

But Shisui ignored him. “Is your eye weird too?”

“I can’t see my eye! My eye is gone!” Tobi raised his voice, injecting more and more hysteria into his voice. It wasn’t hard - he was just channeling the panic he was already feeling. Such was the essence of Tobi: the self who felt Obito’s emotions for him. “Are you jealous of my normal eye ‘cause yours is weird? Tobi’s sorry, but that’s not Tobi’s fault! I can’t help you!”

Shisui’s lips thinned, and for the first time he began to look resigned. “You can’t help me, or you don’t want to? Which is it?”

“I really can’t. I’m sorry, Shisui-kun, but I really can’t.” Tobi sniffled, expression contorted in distress and regret. “Don’t you know I want to? It made everyone so sad when I couldn’t. I really would if I could. I just can’t…”

“It’s okay,” Shisui said. He put his hands in his lap, obscuring them from view. “Let me help you. It’s not a good idea to do as much as I can right now, but I can at least do this much.”

“What are you -”

Tobi fell wide awake.

Tobi stood in training ground seven.

The sun was bright and hot, but the gentle breeze softened the blow. There was a distant rush of a stream, underlied by the constant cacophony of a hidden village, but their little forest always felt so still and peaceful. He was standing in the small clearing in the center of the training ground, encircled by trees softly pushed by the wind. Their leaves were crisp and orange - red, purple, brown.

Kakashi stood across from Tobi. Just a kid, slouching in his jumpsuit with his hands crammed in his pockets. He blinked lazily at Tobi. Tobi had forgotten that he never brushed his hair.

“Are you ready to start?”

Tobi blinked at Kakashi, lost. Why was he lost? He was in the training grounds. He looked down at himself and saw the outfit he used to wear. It was all blacks and grays. He had never lost the taste for those colors. “Bakashi…?”

“That’s me, apparently.” Kakashi yawned - which normally severely pissed Tobi off. Take this seriously, Bakashi! “You always work up Rin when you say that.”

“Rin?” Tobi looked around the grounds, suddenly filled with a bizarre desperation. “Where’s Rin?”

“She’s buying bento lunches for us with Sensei. If I don’t pretend to work he’s going to scold me again, so can we just get started?”

“Yeah…sure.” Tobi awkwardly arranged himself into a ready position. It was difficult to position his body correctly. It was as if he’d forgotten how to do it all, and was relying entirely on muscle memory. “Bakashi wants to practice taijutsu, right?”

“I never wanna practice at all, but sure.” Kakashi straightened, cracking his neck and meeting Tobi’s eyes dead on. There was something arresting and heavy about that gaze. “But you have to make it a challenge for me. Fight me using your Sharingan.”

Using his what? “That’s way more work than Bakashi likes.”

“I want to learn how to protect you. That means I have to get stronger.” Kakashi oriented himself into his own ready stance. It was - “Help me get stronger. Fight me with your Sharingan.”

Tobi shook his head, stepping backwards. His body fell out of its ready stance. His body didn’t want to fight. It was just so sick of it. “It was Tobi’s job to protect Kakashi. Tobi was the strongest, so Tobi should have done it. Kakashi feeling like he failed would make Tobi really sad.”

“Don’t worry about it, Obito. You aren’t a failure. Prove it to me, Obito - let’s train.”

“But I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Kakashi said. “I have faith in you, Obito. I know your strength is within you somewhere. Let’s draw out that strength together, Obito. To protect our precious people.”

That did it. Like stabbing yourself with a kunai or shocking yourself with electricity, that snapped him out of the genjutsu’s hold over his mind.

Tobi didn’t let you call him Obito. It infuriated him, in that special Tobi way. It wasn’t normally a problem: everybody had adapted remarkably quickly to his new name. But maybe that wasn’t such a surprise. It was very difficult to look at Tobi and see Obito. Nobody liked remembering who he once was. And nobody called him that unless they thought that they would be the lucky winners who achieved the miracle and brought Konoha’s greatest soldier out of retirement. Tobi only heard the name Obito when they wanted something out of him. Something that he couldn’t give. Could you blame him for hating the name?

“Stop calling me that!” Tobi screeched. He bent over double, clutching his head and curling in on himself. “Bakashi wouldn’t call me that! Bakashi loves me! This is made up!”

Insanely casually - so casually that Tobi knew he was making a rapidfire series of hand seals - Kakashi said, “No it’s not. You’re in training ground seven. Kakashi’s standing here with you. You want to turn on your Sharingan.”

“You’re lying! Liar, liar, liar!” Tobi pressed his hands over both eyes. Another hit from the Mangeyko might actually do him in. “Get me out of here, Shisui!”

Amazingly, Kakashi - Shisui, it was Shisui, Kakashi was dead dead dead - just sounded a little baffled. “You shouldn’t have seen through this. My Sharingan’s genjutsus are infallible. How the hell did you -” Shisui gasped, tripping over his own words. “You don’t need to turn on the Sharingan to have the resistance. The only eye that could match up to mine is - I knew it.”

Normally it was very easy to escape a genjutsu once you figured out the game. ‘Kai’ was a simple tool - the chakra equivalent of turning the television on and off again - but it was universally effective. Even the most complex genjutsus relied on the same fundamental physiological principles of the simplest genjutsu, and Kai disrupted all of them easily.

Tobi made the rat hand sign and shouted, “Kai!”. He opened his eyes and saw -

Kakashi’s face in front of him, only a hand’s width away. His eyes were blood red, spinning like a pinwheel, and the weight of his gaze was almost physical. Tobi locked eye contact with the spiked eyes and found himself unable to escape. His vision tunneled, then swirled, then -

Obito stood in training ground seven.

It was the same as ever. Team Minato’s little pocket of peace, where the cacophony of Konoha and the war was shut out of their world. It was hot enough that training would be a bit uncomfortable, but a real ninja always trained in all types of weather. Prepared for anything, that was Obito’s motto.

Kakashi stood across from Obito. As always, he was slouching in that baggy jumpsuit, hands crammed in his pockets and blinking lazily at Obito. Did he ever brush his hair?

“Are you ready to start?”

“I’m the one who’s been waiting here for an hour!” Obito yelled. He wasn’t sure about that, but it sounded right. “You’re the one holding us up! As always!”

“Maa, sorry.” Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. His body tensed infinitesimally. “I can switch out with Rin, if you want?”

Rin stuck out her tongue. She was sitting on the sidelines with Sensei, relaxing on the soft grass. Her thumb was stuck in one of her omnipresent romance novels. Next to her, Sensei was frantically scribbling over a scroll. “Save me from Obito on the warpath! I’ll take him after you’ve softened him up, Kakashi!”

“Ah,” Kakashi drawled, “so I’m bait again.”

Rin winked cutely. “I prefer the term human sacrifice.”

“Don’t practice human sacrifice,” Sensei said vaguely, without looking up from his scrolls. “That’s…bad. I think.”

“How overdue are those forms, Sensei?” Rin asked. Sensei made a mournful sound. Rin sighed and grabbed a few from the teetering pile next to him, taking a pen from her pocket as she cracked open the scroll. “You do the fighting, boys, I’ll work on something more important.”

“You’re my favorite,” Sensei said feelingly. He still didn’t look up from the scroll. “You are the best student of all time. You’ll definitely become Hokage when you grow up.”

“You never call me your favorite,” Obito said, wounded.

“You’re also my favorite.” Kakashi slowly raised a hand. “Kakashi is my other favorite. You’re all equally the best. Does anybody else want to help me with this formwork?”

Immediately, Obito and Kakashi said in sync, “We’re busy training.”

Minato’s pen flew across the scroll. “Lazybones, both of you.” Obito puffed himself up in indignation. “Joking! Start your match, you two. Whoever loses has to help me with my paperwork.” Oh, this had stakes now. Obito hated paperwork. Not that he told anybody that. “Don’t forget to use your Sharingan, Obito.”

Obito rolled his eye. He turned to Kakashi, sliding himself easily into a ready position. Across from him, Kakashi did the same. The guy only did work if you threatened him with more work. “Yeah, yeah. Not that I need the Sharingan to beat you, Bakashi.”

“You’ll need to master the Sharingan if you want to be my ANBU Commander,” Rin called out. “Don’t slack off now!”

“Why are you telling me not to slack off!” Obito cried, appalled. “Bakashi is right there -”

Kakashi raised his hand. “I’m just gonna be Rin-chan’s trophy husband.”

Obito flushed. “That’s - that’s useless, you know that? Be a productive member of society! Why would you waste your life being somebody’s husband?”

For the first time, Sensei looked up. He had the most tragically wounded look on his face. “My life dream is to be a husband.”

Rin looked unimpressed. “You’re next in line for Hokage, Sensei.”

“I never said that was my dream.”

“Then give it to me.”

“Not until you’re eighteen, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” Kakashi drawled, “Konoha won’t survive Hokage Nohara. Give us a few more years to put our affairs in order.”

“Are we going to train?” Obito cried, exasperated. “We’re wasting daylight! Stop joking around and focus!”

Kakashi gave Obito the fakest wounded look. “Joking around is my only joy in a dreary life, dobe.”

“Jokes are a waste of time.” Obito brought his fists up, activating his Sharingan on pure instinct. He could activate it quicker, more reflexively, more intuitively, than anybody else in his clan. “Now face me, Bakashi!”

The world swirled, then shattered.

Minato Namikaze and Rin Nohara disappeared on the tides of a spring wind. Before him, Kakashi Hatake’s image twisted away into nothingness. Only Shisui Uchiha stood behind him, hands held carefully in the rat seal, eyes swirling in a pinwheel.

When Obito met his eyes he startled and quickly jerked his eyes away, but he didn’t lose grasp of the illusion. It was no surprise that Shisui refused to meet his gaze: the heat of the Mangyeko burned behind Obito’s eyes.

“Ah,” Shisui said weakly, “you can see me.”

“You absolute brat.”

Shisui’s eyebrows jumped upwards. “Excuse me?”

Obito stalked forward, and Shisui unconsciously leaned back. Obito was vaguely conscious that he must be releasing some killing intent. The Mangyeko’s corrosive power probably magnified that killing intent into a dangerous aura.

“What did you think would happen?” Obito snapped. “My eyes are more powerful than yours. Seeing through this shoddy genjutsu is child’s play. What are they teaching the Uchiha kids these days? If you’re the picture of a Uchiha genius then I hate to see a commonplace Konoha ninja.”

Shisui froze, eyes widening. “Cousin Obito. It really is you…” Obito lifted an unimpressed eyebrow, and Shisui hurriedly bowed slightly. “I’m Shisui Uchiha. It’s good to see you again, Obito-san. I don’t know if you remember, but we met a few times when I was a kid -”

Obito flapped a hand, cutting off the suddenly polite child. “Yeah, your parents were always showing you off. They wanted me to take you as an apprentice once the war was over.” Shisui froze. Nobody had told him that. No surprise. “Obviously you must have made something great of yourself, since you’re wasting time casting industrial grade genjutsus on me. And drugging me. Thanks for that.”

“It was important!” Shisui cried. He stepped forward, but they both kept avoiding each other’s eyes. “I couldn’t explain to Tobi why it was important, otherwise I would have, I promise.” Yeah, sure. “Don’t give me that look. Do you think I liked doing this?”

“It’s cruel,” Obito said shortly, and Shisui flinched hard. For the first time, Obito wondered if Shisui had a fragile personality. “Go on, then. Tell me what’s so important that you had to somehow find me.”

Shisui took a deep breath. He set his shoulders straight, as if he was finally being brave, but in the end he looked away completely from Obito. “About five years ago, I was on a routine mission with my best friend. We just had the worst fight of our lives. I barely even remember what it was about, but I was so mad. I remember feeling this burning jealousy and panic…maybe it was because of his promotion over me or something. The clan had just begun putting a lot of pressure on me, and he made me feel like a failure. And the routine mission…went bad.” Shisui halted a second, heaving deep breaths, before speaking again. “I just remember thinking that he’s going to take my place as the Uchiha genius. I had that thought at the exact moment he needed me. And he died. Because of a fight over something I don’t even remember and jealousy over a position I never even wanted. I remember realizing this, the truth of my actions fully hitting me, and how I started crying blood. When I looked in a pool of water, I saw that my eyes had turned into this. Fugaku could only guess that the shock and trauma mutated my eyes into this strange form, but that never made sense to me.”

Wait, hold on. “��Into its strange form’?” Obito asked harshly. “‘Shock and trauma?’. Why didn’t Fugaku tell you about the Mangekyo Sharingan?”’

Shisui stared blankly at the ground. “The what now?”

Holy fucking shit. “Nobody told you about your own fucking eye?”

“You know?” Shisui cried, and for the first time he raised his eyes to meet Obito’s own eyes. For the first time, Obito saw the desperation in them. “You know what happened to me? Who told you? Does anybody else know?”

Obito snorted. “Nobody told me. I found out the information for myself.” The ability to become a ghost was fantastic for entering secret vaults, and Madara had written half of ‘Clan Secrets’ in a script that only the Mangeyko could read. Obito knew more about this clan than its fucking hundred year olds. “You guessed what the activation criteria was, didn’t you? That’s why you sought me out. You wanted to see if the other genius Uchiha who murdered his friends scored the bonus too.”

“I was right!” Shisui clenched his fist, eyes spinning in a sick blur. “Our conversation right now confirms it! This thing happened to me because of what happened that day. You and I both failed to save our best friends. I just need to know what it is, how I can use it. I know it can do more than a powerful genjutsu every so often.”

And, because the kid had gone through such incredible amounts of effort for this moment - because he seemed to have reached a level of desperation that could only ever grow deeper and more rotten - Obito told him.

“Maybe Fugaku didn’t tell you because he thought you must have a different eye. Or maybe he thought you were lying to him. Fuck, maybe only the elders know this information anymore. The Uchiha clan believes that the Mangeyko Sharingan is only obtained through killing your best friend.” Shisui’s face turned pale, but Obito shook his head. “No. It’s activated when you watch the loss of the person you love. Personally, I think that it activates when you feel responsible for that loss. When the guilt murders you, when it breaks you, and when a new power rises to fill the void within you.”

Shisui looked away. “Lots of Uchiha have seen a loved one die. But…not that many get the person they loved killed, huh?”

“This information is kept under wraps so nobody goes around trying to kill their loved ones. It wouldn’t work, anyway. Nobody who kills the person they love the most for an eye could ever feel guilty about it.” A sword through a heart. A boulder through a chest. “The Mangekyo strengthens your natural Sharingan. It gives you the ability to summon Susanoo, our clan’s greatest and most ultimate weapon. And it has a technique unique to its wielder. Yours is related to a genjutsu, right?”

Shisui nodded eagerly. “I’ve never used it, but I can sense it. I think it can brainwash people. I sense that it has a long cool-down, but the brainwashing must be absolute. What’s Susanoo? How can I wield it?”

“Visit the sacred shrine in the woods behind the main house. Use your Mangeyeko to read the writing on the wall scroll, then follow its instructions.” Wait, that implied that Obito had discovered all of this after he had brain damage. “I found it while searching for forbidden techniques right before the war ended. These are our most dangerous secrets, Shisui. Tell no one.”

“An ultimate weapon,” Shisui said quietly. He was standing stock-still right in front of Obito, but something inside of him was tensing with excitement. “I bet it could turn the tides of a war. The peace that this weapon could bring…I could bring peace to the Uchiha and Konoha -”

No. Wait, kid, slow your roll. That wasn’t why Obito had fucking told you this.

“Are you joking?” Obito asked flatly. “The Mangeyko could start a war between the Uchiha and the rest of Konoha. Nobody can ever find out about this. You should never use this power.”

“But they’d see the value the Uchiha could bring!” Shisui protested. “The Hokage would know how powerful we are, what an asset we are to the village! If they just respected us -”

“They already think we released the Kyuubi,” Obito snarled, “how would showing off a brainwashing power remotely make them hate us less?”

“Then I’ll brainwash them too!” Shisui cried, and Obito stopped short. “I don’t care how long the cool-down is! I’ll just brainwash the Hokage, tell him to accept us back into the village, and - and wouldn’t that be the best way to fix this? It’s peaceful, easy, and it doesn't hurt anyone!”

Did this kid just fucking say that brainwashing somebody doesn’t hurt them? That explained so fucking much - and how much did that say.

Obito grabbed the kid’s collar, reeling him in and shaking him. He realized a little too late that the kid was shorter than him - that Obito’s hand was strong and large. He was an adult again. “Weapons cannot bring peace!” Obito snarled. “Harm does not cure hatred! Committing greater and greater atrocities will not achieve the impossible!”

“They’re not atrocities!” Shisui didn’t struggle in his grip. He just looked at Obito, bright and pleading. As if he truly did want Obito to understand. “And it’s not impossible! Restoring peace between the Uchiha and Konoha has to be possible. They’re depending on me to make it happen. Itachi’s depending on me to make it happen. I’ll do anything if it saves the people I love!”

“You’re a fool,” Obito said coldly. “An idealistic fool. In searching for a perfect solution, you’ll ruin everything. Compromises must be made. If you truly wish to save the people you love, then sacrifice the people you don’t. But there is one thing you must never sacrifice, Shisui.”

Something in Shisui was so broken. Obito saw it in those red eyes now. “Obito-san…”

“Don’t lose who you are.” There was something aching and broken in Obito’s chest. It scratched his chest with a thousand micro-tears, ripping him open bit by bit from the inside. “Don’t sacrifice your integrity. Don’t parcel out parts of yourself to those who would consume them. Don’t you understand? Those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash!” Obito faltered for the first time - not uncertain, but almost afraid. “You’re a good kid, Shisui. Don’t sacrifice who you are for the sake of people who will use you up and spit you out. You deserve better than that. I…deserved…”

He was no longer gripping Shisui’s collar. He was staring far into the distance, lost. The training ground was bright and cheerful, softened by memory and time, and his teammates were far away. They would never come back. There was no home to return to.

A weight looped around his neck, a body pressed against his, and he realized too late that Shisui was hugging him. It was an awkward and strange weight. Obito couldn’t return the embrace. Holding him like this, forehead pressed against his chest, Shisui felt like nothing more than a scared fourteen year old. As scared and confused as Obito had once been, the day he made his awful choice.

“Do you want me to kill you?” Shisui muttered. “Everyone says that you’re better off dead than…”

Their family was so fucking insane. Shisui thought he was being nice right now. Obito just sighed and put his hand on top of Shisui’s head, indulging a moment of insanity and ruffling his hair. Only Tobi would have ever done that.

“A life is the most precious thing,” Obito said bluntly. “Our society treats people like they’re cheap, lives as if they’re expendable. They’re wrong. Life and living…no matter how difficult the circumstances, we must value life above all else.”

Shisui pulled away, rubbing at his spinning eyes. For the first time he truly seemed miserable. “I don’t care about sacrificing myself for my clan. My life isn’t more important than Mom’s or Dad’s or Itachi’s or Sasuke’s. But are their lives more important than the safety of Konoha? If Konoha’s not safe, they aren’t safe. I don’t know what to do.”

“You can’t please both the Uchiha and the village,” Obito said bluntly. “You’re trying to play both sides and avoid making a decision. Your efforts will topple like a house of cards. And those you tried to save will use you.” Obito put both hands on Shisui’s shoulders, squeezing tightly. He looked him dead in the eyes, hoping that his own gaze was still weighty enough to say what words couldn’t. “Don’t trust Danzo. He wants our eyes for himself. Don’t trust the clan elders. They just want power. Tell nobody about our eyes, Shisui. You must protect both of us. If you don’t, the consequences will be catastrophic.”

Shisui nodded, eyes wide. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Obito-san.”

Not the potential problem. If Obito got busted he’d probably just blow up half the compound and book it. Honestly, he should have already done that. He didn’t know why he was still around. Maybe it was just inertia. Maybe he didn’t want to fend for himself. Maybe he was weak - but there was no ‘maybe’ about that.

“Good. Listen to me now. Hopefully, after this we’ll never speak again.” If the kid tried to pull this a second time then his life was about to become markedly un-precious. “Persevere, Shisui-kun. Value your life. But do not accept evil, in others or in yourself. And remember…remember…” Obito smiled despite himself, shoulders falling. “Remember to have fun, alright? Treasure your one and only life.”

Shisui looked as if he was about to cry, which was assuredly the worst possible outcome of a conversation with a teenager. Obito’s words hadn't even been nice. Had this kid received no positive reinforcement at all? Would Tobi have to be nice to him?

But Shisui just stepped backwards and bowed to Obito at the waist. The sight of a modicum of respect had grown depressingly novel. “I’m sorry that we’ll never meet again, Obito-san. I’ll study the Mangekyo and unlock its full power. I’ll protect you and Itachi and Sasuke. I promise.”

“Promise me that you’ll trust nobody,” Obito said sharply. Shisui straightened, but he only looked away again. “Live. Even at the expense of everything else. Now get us out of here, you have to be exhausting yourself.”

Shisui formed his fingers into the rat seal, hesitating briefly. “What should I tell Tobi?”

“It’s your life,” Obito said, “not mine.”

His vision tunneled, then faded away, and Obito woke up.

Tobi jerked himself awake.

What the fuck. What the fuck had that been? Tobi hadn’t known that he could be trapped in a genjutsu. And Shisui went through all of that effort for - what, chasing a hunch? World peace? A fourteen year old’s idea of problem solving, i.e. brainwashing as many people as possible? Shisui had built a genjutsu even Obito couldn’t escape from. He was wasting his life with that damn loyalty.

Yes - Obito hadn’t been able to escape the genjutsu. He had thought he had. Maybe he couldn’t leave physically, but he had reasoned his mind was intact and uninfluenced. Through the benefit of hindsight, Tobi could see what a delusion that had really been.

Tobi did not drop the act. Ever. There should have been no ‘accessing the dead genius inside of the moron’. The moron was the genius, that was the point. The first wave hadn’t fooled him - Tobi had been together enough to keep the Tobi mask on, even in the face of such noxious nostalgia. But the second wave pulling him even deeper into his psyche had been too much. Shisui had peeled the mask away, giving him what he expected to see and giving Tobi what he never thought he’d see again. It hadn’t even occurred to him to lie. First he was drugged, then he was caught in a genjutsu…fucking amateur hour up in here.

“Tobi? Are you alright?”

Rich fucking sentiments from this kid. But Tobi groaned anyway, realizing that his head was pillowed on his arms folded on the table. A light grip shook his shoulder, and he forced his aching head upwards to stare blearily at the faux-concerned Shisui.

“I think I drank too much,” Tobi groaned. “I had a weird dream.”

Shisui’s face was stone, but that was no surprise. “What did you dream about?”

Tobi yawned widely, pushing away toppled bowls of sake. “That I was walking on a tightrope, and if I fell I’d die. One part of the ground was boiling water, and the other part was lots of fire. It was super scary. Then I fell and…I don’t know where I landed…”

If Shisui was surprised that he didn’t dream of the obvious thing, he didn’t show it. He just clasped Tobi’s elbow, gently helping him upwards. “Sounds scary. Let’s get you to bed, alright? Thanks for hanging out with me, I had fun.”

“Tobi’s happy that we had fun.” Tobi yawned widely, covering his mouth with both hands, but he slitted a sharp look at Shisui from the corner of his eye. Shisui always stood in Tobi’s field of vision. “Did Shisui-kun get what he wanted?”

Shisui froze. This was a risky move on Tobi’s part, but he knew that it would pay off. “What I wanted?”

“Tobi used to be a very good ninja,” Tobi said reproachfully. “Tobi can taste gross things in his drink.” Shisui jerked backwards, paling. “Did Shisui-kun get what he wanted?”

“I…” Shisui looked away, but Tobi watched as he forced himself to stare directly into Tobi’s eyes. Tobi wondered what he was searching for - the Mangekyo? Obito? Or if he only knew that Tobi wouldn’t register eye contact as a threat? “No. I got what I was looking for, but…not what I wanted. I’m sorry. I hurt you for no reason.”

What had Shisui truly wanted? Maybe even he didn’t know. Maybe he had wanted somebody like him. Life as a genius was lonely. Maybe part of him, silly and irrational as he knew it was, hoped that his eye could ‘fix’ Tobi where everyone else had failed. Or maybe part of him had wanted an adult he could trust, and all he received was a man who hadn’t seen daylight for a long time.

Tobi put a hand on Shisui’s head. He smiled down at him, bright and easy. “It’s okey-dokey, Shisui-kun! If you need help, just come to Tobi. Got it?”

“Got it,” Shisui said quietly. “Thank you.”

“No problem - wow, I’m dizzy!”

Shisui helped Tobi to bed, and he gratefully fell unconscious. It was the best night’s sleep he’d had in forever. Honestly? Made the whole thing worth it.

The Sharingan etched what it saw into its bearer's mind forever. The Mangekyo’s power could make you feel as if you were still there - forever trapped within that moment.

Kakashi’s crushed body. Rin’s smile as Obito impaled her. Kushina’s lifeless body. And the rising tidal wave of corpses behind them: the dozens of ninjas Obito had killed in his life, the untold quantities of destruction and death he’d witnessed with his own eyes. Obito remembered the faces of every person he’d ever killed. It wasn’t a small number.

Tobi forgot. At some point, Tobi had become the only way to forget. He never used the Mangeyko Sharingan: not just afraid of its power, but incapable.

He did not realize he had a whole-ass personal dimension until much, much later. This was what he got for running from his problems.

#my writing #naruto fanfiction #obito uchiha #shisui uchiha #sasuke uchiha #mikoto uchiha #this au exists bc i was writing tobi in sakuragakure and i was like #'wow i wish i could write tobi literally nonstop for the entire story'#in the end the tobi here is markedly different from the tobi in sakuragakure or canon #because he has different aims and is used for a different purpose #but still fun to write #still struggling to figure out how on earth to make a coherent narrative out of alla this

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cheezeybread · 3 months

Note

Yuu and Azul switching bodies? Figure Floyd knows and is about to do something but Yuu in Azul's body totally in writing offers him a paid day off and Floyd takes the deal without a second thought. Floyd knows but is honestly happy to take what he can get from the situation.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

You and Azul were paired up to do a group project for Alchemy- making some sort of potion that, when ingested, could allow the user to read into someone's mind for a short amount of time.

However! There's never a moment of peace in this dang school, so of course Grim would come running into the classroom at the literal worst possible time.

Bum bum bummmmm, the potion poofs out in a cloud of smoke, getting all over both you and Azul, and you get onto Grim, telling him off for ruining the project, since now the two of you would have to start all over again.

After eventually calling it quits for the night, you and Azul retire to your separate dorms, but! When you wake up, you're not...exactly in your own bed anymore.

I'll just say it now since we all know what's up. Instead of allowing for a short burst of mind-reading abilities, Grim's intrusion caused the potion to become a mind-swapping one. So long story short, you and Azul swapped bodies. Whomp whomp

As soon as you get up (out of Azul's bed- woah, his legs sure are shaky in the morning- doesn't he need to drink some sort of potion to keep his human form??), and dress yourself (or...himself? it's so confusing) in what you think is Azul's normal attire, you step outside. And when Jade and Floyd see you, they immediately know it's you.

"Azul would never walk out in public looking like that," Jade tsks, looking at you with a pitiful expression "The tie is all crooked..."

"And he gets up sooooo much earlier!" chimes in Floyd.

"Plus, you're not wearing his glasses."

As for how they knew it was YOU, well...you may never really know the answer to that question.

Instead of going to find Azul to fix this, you decide to have a bit of fun with it all. After all, you're always fixing everybody's mess, so why not leave Azul to fix this himself? Plus, you've got magic now! And Azul, since he's stuck in your body, has none. The thought is pretty amusing.

And since you've got magic....you can use his signature spell, right? Right!

"My first act as Azul is to give YN unlimited free meals at the Mostro Lounge...and a weekly allowance! Hmmm, for the forseeable future, let's say. In exchange, YN willllllllll give me a nice handshake," was the first contract you wrote out. Jade hinted that it normally would require the signatures of both parties...but you were using Azul's hand right now...and you could sign your own signature, since you still had your mind...

Since he was so helpful, you wrote out a contract to give Jade creative freedom with the Mostro Lounge's dishes, allowing him to have a "mushroom of the day" special- in exchange for a fist bump.

And Floyd? Oh boy, he had been eager to try and prank you all day, you could see the mischief in his eyes as he tried to creep up on you....

So you gave him the day off, paid! Just as an incentive for him to not harm you (nor Azul's body) for a little while. In exchange for a crisp high-five, It's a deal!

Poor Azul nearly cries when he gets back in his body after this...he has to fix the giant mess of things. Poor, unfortunate soul, he is...

#twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst #azul ashengrotto #twst x reader #jade leech #floyd leech #twst jade #twst azul #twst floyd #twst octavinelle #octatrio #octavinelle

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citricacidprince · 8 days

Note

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer of plucked out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

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teyamsgrl · 1 year

Text

if you ask nicely ✧ neteyam

❗️ MDNI ❗️

look how pretty teyam is 🫶🏻 anywho i love sub!neteyam and teasing him would be absolute bliss pls enjoy 🧍🏻‍♀️

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, agedup!neteyam, sub!neteyam, dom!reader, l-bombs, handjob, cum eating, dirty talk, teasing, riding, NETEYAM PRAISE KINK - paskalin: honey, yawne: beloved

everyone loved neteyam, and honestly you couldn't blame them. your mate was a wonderful warrior; skilled hunter, future olo'eyktan and great talker. neteyam was adored by many and therefore was often busy with the people and working alongside his father. you always prepared food and tidied your hut in anticipated for neteyam's return home, and couldn't contain the smile on your face when he walked in everyday.

"paskalin" his grin is bright while he walks in, arms immediately engulfing you into a hug. "ma'teyam, how was your day?" you hum as you hug back, fiddling with his braids as his hands caress your sides. "good, but i'm happy to be home" he withdraws from the embrace to press his lips on your forehead. "mhmmm, must be sore. do you want a massage?" you suggest, rubbing over his broad shoulders that are obviously tense. "that would be amazing, thank you" he smiles and places a kiss on your nose, sitting criss cross on the woven mat placed on the floor of your hut. you sit behind him, spreading your legs so he is situated between your legs. he hums as your hands reach his shoulders, slowly massaging and soothing the tender areas.

"that feels nice" he sighs as you dig into his shoulder deeper with your fingers. you hum and kiss both of his shoulders, moving your hands down further to rub along his back gently. "what did you do with your father today?" you question, dragging your hands to stroke his thighs, lightly massaging them. "mostly hunting, and we taught some children" you can hear the pride in his voice and it makes you want to just ravage him right here and now, his confidence boosting his attractiveness, if that was at all possible. "mhmm, sounds like fun" you kiss the middle of his back, hands dragging up his inner thighs and inching closer to the bulge in his loincloth.

you can hear his breath hitch softly as your fingers trail around his bulge, knowingly teasing your mate. "was it fun, yawne? bet you did amazing like usual..." you say, fingers brushing over his bulge which is growing by the second. "y-yes, i had fun" he stutters out, his body emitting more warmth which you can feel against your chest. you use one hand to start to palm him, the other resting atop his thigh. you press yourself flush against his back, the feeling of your breasts causing the small whine stuck in neteyam's throat to escape. "good.. did you speak with kiri? she was meant to bring me some herbs this morning.." you speak with a smirk on your face, knowing that neteyam's head is spinning at the obvious teasing you are doing. "n-no, i didn't get a chance.." he huffs, cock straining against his loincloth.

you nod and add a bit more pressure to your palming, "something wrong?" you taunt, trailing your hand to the waistband of his loincloth. neteyam doesn't answer, prompting you to continue, "if you tell me what's wrong, maybe i can help you, pretty boy..." he whines loudly, head turning to face you. "please..." "please what? no idea what you need..." you tilt your head innocently, slipping your fingers under the waistband. "that- your touch, i need it now, please" he whines, eyes large and begging for more. "well since you asked so nicely.." you push off his loincloth, removing your hands from his body to settle in front of him.

"already hard and leaking, baby? got you all worked up didn't i?" you bite your lip as you bring your hand to his aching cock, warm hand enveloping a small part of the shaft, his size much larger in proportion to your hands. he tosses his head back at the awaited touch, breathy whine escaping his mouth. you giggle and begin stroking, eyes scouring his toned body. "yes yes..faster please faster" he moans and brings his head back up, eyes locking with your lust filled ones. "such a good boy, always saying please..." your hand picks up it's pace, grip tight as you pull more noises out of neteyam. "you're my good boy, aren't you, teyam?" the whine that escaped his mouth in response was boisterous, your praise was something that always sent a shiver through his body. "i'm your good boy" he gasps out, his hands clawing at the woven mat underneath him. your hand is moving rapidly now, neteyam's head now thrown back again and his eyes shut out of pleasure.

you take note of how his hips start to sporadically buck and how his toes are now curled, recognizing that his orgasm is nearing. his chest is heaving now, his moans filling your ears persistently. "are you gonna cum for me? hm? are you gonna ask first?" you tsk, slowing your movements. "p-please no-" you grab his chin with your empty hand, tilting it down towards you, "try that again". his ears are folded back against his head as he attempts to piece together a coherent sentence, "can i cum? please let me cum, i want to be your good boy, please!" he whimpers, eyes glossy with tears. you nod, "that's it, show me baby, cum for me, cum all over yourself for me.." he groans loudly as his white luminescent cum spurts out, shooting across his abs and chest. "good boy, you did amazing, teyam.. came so much for me, so good.." you smile at him as he catches his breath, pushing him down to lie flat on his back. you straddle his legs and crane your neck down, dragging your tongue up his torso and collecting all of his cum from just moments ago. he whimpers as he observes you, eyes never leaving his as your pink tongue absorbs his seed. you hum contentedly while you swallow, moving over him to kiss him feverishly.

his hands fly to your waist and squeeze as you kiss, your tongue gliding into his mouth with ease. his tongue meshes with yours, light moans escaping both of your throats. you recede from his lips, shimmying your loincloth off in a hurry. the slick soaked item gets tossed to the side before you're hovering above neteyam's once again stiff cock. his hands reach for you, desperate to pull you down onto him. you giggle and grab his hands before they reach you, holding them at his sides, "tell me, baby.. what should i do next?" your look is composed but inside you are dying to swallow his cock with your tight pussy. "ride me, please! i want your pussy- bounce on me, oh bounce on me please..." he begs, restless under you. you don't waste anytime before you sink down onto his cock, pussy devouring him. you moan as his tip presses your cervix, your hands letting go of his to rest on his smooth chest. his moans are keen as your walls embrace his cock snugly, his hands moving back to their previous position on your waist. after a minute of adjustment to neteyam's size you start to ride him, your ass clapping down against him.

his whines are subconsciously escaping now, pleasure clouding his thoughts. you mewl each time you sink back down, the stretch unbelievably gratifying, "so pretty under me, my pretty boy..." you exhale as you bounce faster, the squelching sound so filthily arousing. "you're- you're so gorgeous..." he squeaks out, bruises forming under his fingers. you smile coyly down at him, gyrating your hips as he is buried deep inside. "you're so fucking big, you fill my pussy so well, don't you?" you whine and start to bounce on him again, pace eagerly fast. "y-yeah, you're so tight" he mewls as his second orgasm makes it's way to it's peak. "cum- please, i need to- wanna fill your pussy" he babbles just as you bring a hand to circle your clit fervently, "i'm with you, yawne. cum again please, give me your cum again" you ramble as his back arches, cum flooding your insides. you simultaneously shake on top of neteyam, your own cum mixing with his own inside.

"damn..." you giggle breathlessly, lying down on top of neteyam who was also bringing himself down from the high. "hi" he chuckles and nudges his nose against yours, smile forming across your lips. "hello to you too", you purr and kiss him lovingly, melting into his touch. he wraps his arms around you securely, keeping you close. once your lips detach you snuggle into his flushed chest, hands interlaced in his braids. "i love you" he whispers faintly and you do the same back, eyes fluttering shut in his grasp. he shuts his own as well, large hands roaming your back as you both fall into a slumber.

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shanastoryteller · 8 months

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HAPPY WINTER SOLACE SHANA HELL YEAH I MADE IT IN TIME!!! CAN I GET ME SOME TONKS AND PERCY AS A BIRTHDAY TREAT? 👉🏻👈🏻 (My birthday is the 22nd) HAVE AN AWESOME HOLIDAY! 🎄🎄🎄

Percy is supposed to focusing on these reports that he technically shouldn’t have taken out of the office, but technically Crouch is supposed to be handling these, so.

While his absolute piece of shit apartment usually holds no more appeal than being stuck in the office overnight, it currently has Tonks resting with her head on his thigh “resting her eyes” since she refuses to go to bed before him because she believes in blackmail and manipulation. Which he can’t reasonably say he’s surprised by, considering, but it is a little inconvenient.

His work is important or he wouldn’t be doing it, but if he falls asleep at work the worst that happens is he embarrasses himself. If Tonks goes out on a call without getting proper rest, she could be putting herself in danger. Leveraging her own safety to get him to sleep is underhanded and irresponsible.

She’s going to do exceptionally well working under Shackbolt. He’d plucked her out from the other trainees from the beginning. It has nothing to do with him, but he can’t help the smug furl of pride anyway.

He clears his throat and her eyes flutter open. She has to blink a couple times for them to settle to her natural dark brown, cycling through several shades of blue and yellow. He wonders what she was dreaming about. “Bill has a meeting at Gringott’s on Thursday. He’s going to come by the office after and we’re going to go to the cafeteria to catch up.”

“That sounds nice,” she says, turning to press her face into his stomach and rubbing her nose against his sweater. He makes a mental note to try and talk to the landlord about doing something about the heating system, or at least refreshing the charms himself, but he’s not good enough to make them last long. Maybe Bill wouldn’t mind doing it before he returns to Egypt? “Are you done going through the Russian reports?”

No. Translation charms are imperfect and it takes him forever to parse through and figure out what’s actually being described. If Crouch wasn’t such a dick to them, they’d submit in English. “Do you want to join us? If you can. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

That gets her attention. “Really? I mean, sure. I’m pretty sure I’ve spoke to Bill twice ever. One time he gave me detention.”

His lips twitch. Bill remembers that. “Thank you. He wants to meet my girlfriend. Or re-meet, technically.”

She beams, so pleased whenever he calls her that. She’s been calling herself his girlfriend for a months, but it still makes him warm to see how pleased she is with the title. He’d really though he was just a passing interest, a distraction while she was desk bound, but she’s still here. “Yeah, of course. It’ll be fun!”

He hums in agreement, the sound interrupted midway with a yawn.

“Come on,” she says, pushing herself to her feet then tugging him up after her. “We both need sleep. That’ll all still be there in the morning.”

That’s the problem. But he says, “Alright,” and lets her maneuver him as she likes.

Giving in to Tonks doesn’t sting like it does with other people. It’s always a relief and a pleasure to see her satisfied and happy.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY i hope it was a great day!!!#asks #lance-with-a-chance-of-anxiety #prompt answers #prompts are closed #harry potter #siat #aaaannnd that's a wrap!#holiday prompts are done

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 6 months

Text

Closed Position: Week 1 (Introductions)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 7.1K

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 1 Quote: "Fuck. I might be in trouble."

Dieter’s POV

“Lenny, have you seen this fucking schedule? It’s seven days a week for twelve weeks. When do I get a break?”

Lenny, my agent, sighed through the speaker phone, “D, I told you this was going to be a lot of work before you agreed to do it. You shouldn’t be surprised…and besides, that’s only if you make it to the finals.”

I scoffed, “Thanks for the vote of confidence…asshole.” Lenny chuckled on the other end of the line. We both went quiet for a moment as I continued to flip through the packet of paper that Lenny had sent over for review, “I don’t even get to have any say on the wardrobe or music. Such bullshit…sucking all the fun out of it. Did you at least drop a bug in their ear about who I’ll be partnered with? If I get stuck with someone I don’t want, I’m gonna be fucking miserable.”

“I did, but the producers said they always do the partner matching themselves. They have a formula…or something. Maybe bring it up again at this morning's meeting and explain why. They may listen to you on it.”

I huffed as my eyes continued skimming over the weekly schedule, “I have to get a fucking spray tan every week? You have GOT to be kidding me…Lenny, you know I don’t like using carcinogenic chemicals on my body.”

“Uhhh, no comment on that…Look, I’ll put in a call and see if they can use something natural for that.”

I relaxed some, “I would appreciate that. Thank you. Tell them I have an allergy or something…just make it happen.”

I tossed the packet onto the table and picked up my phone, taking it off speaker and putting it to my ear - now pacing as I spoke, “Well, it looks like I’m gonna be pretty busy for a bit. That’ll be a nice distraction. It beats being locked inside the house at least.”

Lenny hesitated, but still asked, “How are you doing with everything? Still managing ok?”

I sighed, “Yeah, I mean I’m going to therapy and all the meetings still. I’ve been doing ok…just trying to keep the stress levels down. That’s what gets to me the most.”

“How long has it been?”

I looked at the date on my watch, “Eight months today…actually. It’s the longest I’ve ever been clean, and I plan to stick to it this time. I’m feeling good and I want to keep it that way.”

“Everyone is really proud of you, D. You know that, right? Keep at it and we'll have you back on top in no time.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing that it was an uphill battle, “I appreciate that, but good luck getting people to change their opinion of me. I’m not sure if my reputation is salvageable at this point. Everyone seems to think my sobriety is some sort of joke. No one is taking it seriously.”

I could hear Lenny inhale deeply on the other end of the phone, “It’s just going to take time, D. Don’t give up yet.”

I pursed my lips in thought, “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I need to get ready for this meeting. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

“Yeah, definitely let me know how it goes.”

Once I hung up the phone with Lenny, I took a quick shower, then spent longer than I should have staring at the clothes hanging in my closet - trying to pick something that says I have my shit together. My therapist kept reminding me that if I dressed like a slob, people were going to treat me like one. So, I was putting more effort into making myself presentable before I left the house these days. Since it was a work meeting, I went for a business casual look, figuring I couldn’t go wrong with that. After styling my hair and getting dressed, I grabbed my keys, phone, wallet, and sunglasses and headed out the front door.

As I approached my car, which was parked in the driveway, I noticed there was a dead bird on the hood. The fluffy gray, brown, and white stray cat that had been hanging around my house was sitting next to it, looking rather proud of himself. I sighed, “Come on dude, really?” And this is why I need to get the garage cleaned out. I hit the clicker to open the garage door so I could get a broom to knock the bird off the hood. As I waded through the mountain of empty boxes from my move six months ago, I cursed myself for taking my sweet time getting that stuff out of the house. Finally finding the broom, I quickly moved to get the dead bird off of the car and shooed the cat away. He didn’t look happy about it as he moved to sit on the pathway in front of the house, watching me until I was finally on my way to Television City Studios to meet with the producers of Dancing with the Stars.

When I arrived at the studio, I was met by the two executive producers, Stacia and Joe and led into a conference room. I let them do their spiel about what’s expected and the schedule. Nodding along in all the right places, being as polite as possible even though I hated how little say I had over anything. Once they moved on to the topic of how they choose partners, I spoke up for the first time, “I would really like to have input on my partner.” They both moved to speak before I held up my hand to signal that I wasn’t finished talking.

“Look, I know you all have your formula or whatever, but I have a legitimate reason for asking. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve been trying to clean up my image. I’ve been sober for eight months and I would really like to be placed with someone that doesn’t have a reputation for partying…someone who isn’t gonna be a negative influence on me. It’s actually really important to me because I’m actively avoiding being around anyone who is into that kind of lifestyle.” Which is why I spend most of my time alone.

Stacia and Joe looked at each other, obviously surprised at my reasoning for the request. They were actually stunned into silence. Since neither of them said anything, I continued, “I had my team check into the dancers, and based on their recommendation…I’m requesting that Katarina Stamos be my partner. She has a good reputation and I’m also told she’s very professional and isn’t judgmental…because that’s been an issue here lately that I’d really like to not have to deal with.”

Stacia’s brow furrowed, “Are you looking to actually win? Because Kat hasn’t won a single season that she’s been with us.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. What an asshole thing to say about someone. “Well, maybe that’s because you keep giving her shitty partners.”

I gave Stacia a sarcastic smile. She had the audacity to look offended by that statement. I had watched the show and seen the people Katarina was partnered with. It was always the older guys that could hardly move. Stacia’s attitude made me more determined to have Katarina as a partner just to prove a fucking point on her behalf.

Joe interrupted the silent standoff that Stacia and I now seemed to be having, “Alright, let’s think about this…” He turned to Stacia, “Physically, they work together. Their height and proportions are a good match…and Kat is very patient. She would work well with him. Also, if he wishes to be with someone who isn’t into partying, Anika is not the person he needs to be with.”

Stacia looked frustrated and unwilling to give in as she glared at her counterpart. Joe smirked, “If you're worried about the change in narrative, it’s possible there may be other options we haven’t considered.”

What the fuck does that mean? I leaned forward on my elbows, “What narrative?”

They both turned to look at me, Stacia now had a sly smile on her face. It was Joe who answered, “We always consider the possible narratives that could come up between partners. How they’ll interact and get along personality wise. It’s an important factor for the show.”

I felt a crease form between my brows, “So basically, you try to manufacture drama for TV.”

Joe shook his head, “Not exactly, I mean ultimately, yes. We just take personalities and such into account when we pair the dancers with their celebrities. I mean, we do want everyone to get along with their partner, obviously.”

So, you’re fucking meddlers. Got it. I arched my brows, giving them a tight smile as I nodded, going along with what they were telling me. I now realized I would have to keep an eye on these two. I didn’t feel like they had my best interest in mind. Especially if they were initially planning to put me with the known party girl.

I cleared my throat before speaking again, “So what does that mean…do I get to work with Katarina or not?”

Stacia looked at me, now smiling, “I think that may actually be a good match now that I think about it. So yeah, we’ll let you work with Kat. Hopefully you’ll both make it through to finals.”

What is this woman’s deal? Geez Louise. I eyed them both suspiciously for a moment, “Ok, good. Now I’m finally a little excited about this.”

They went over a few more details about the schedule before taking me out to meet with a production assistant, who was tasked with giving me a tour of the building and showing me where my dressing room would be. This part of my day couldn’t end soon enough…

Katarina’s POV

As I was pulling into the Television City Studios parking lot for the first day of my last season on Dancing with the Stars, my phone pinged with a text from Alec, my fiancée.

Alec: I finished up my meeting with production. Are you here? Have you had yours yet?

I leaned my head back against the seat. What the hell has he been doing? I know his meeting was over an hour ago.

Me: Just parked, I have mine in 10 minutes. I’m on my way in…Meet you in the lobby.

A few minutes later, I found Alec in the lobby. He seemed more excited than he normally was on the first day as he greeted me with a quick kiss on the cheek.

I leaned away from him, “What’s got you so smiley this morning?” I could tell he was trying to temper it down and have a more neutral expression on his face as he shrugged, “I didn’t realize I was. Guess I’m just excited to see you.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. What are you hiding now you asshole. He didn’t know how well I could read him at this point.

I arched a brow instead of returning his smile, “So, I assume you found out who your partner is gonna be?”

He continued his attempts at a neutral expression, “Yeah, Lana Thompson…she’s an actress, I think. There was apparently a last minute change to the lineup this morning. You know her?”

I gave him a tight smile, “Yeah…I know her. She has a bit of a reputation…”

He feigned ignorance, “Oh? I don’t know anything about her. I’m sure she’ll turn out to be one of those stuck up, bitchy types like the rest of ‘em. Ya know, you’re lucky it’s your last season so you don’t have to deal with these people anymore.”

And there it is. He doth protest too much. He was excited to be paired with her, I could tell. He saw it as an opportunity. As far as I knew, he hadn’t strayed to another woman in some time, but that didn’t mean he had changed. He still hadn’t earned my trust back and his current excitement only made me more suspicious of his commitment.

Alec could sense the tension taking hold of my body as he rubbed at my lower back, “Everything ok, baby?”

I gave him a half-hearted smile, “Yeah, just peachy. I’ve gotta go or I’m gonna be late. I’ll catch up with you after.”

As I was walking down the hallway toward the conference room, I saw Lana Thompson exiting the bathroom. I suspected Alec had already met his partner and liked her more than he let on. Which probably explains why it took him as long as it did to text me.

When I entered the conference room, Stacia and Joe sat huddled together. They seemed to be engrossed in whatever they were whispering about, but abruptly stopped talking once they realized I was lingering in the entryway. They both smiled, almost over enthusiastically as they welcomed me and motioned for me to have a seat. They studied me for a moment before Stacia finally spoke, “How are things going with you?”

That’s an odd question and an odd tone. I wasn’t sure what kind of answer she was looking for, “It’s going good, why?”

She gave me a small smile, “I know it’s your last season because you have things going on…but do you think you’re feeling up to the possibility of making it to finals?”

I gave her a confused look, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Joe leaned forward, “What Stacia is trying to say is…the person we have you partnered with this time is going to be a little more physically able than your usual partners. So, you may be in it for the full twelve weeks…if you can pull it off. Are you physically able to handle it?”

Should I be offended by that? It’s not like I can’t function. It was just painful some days, especially when there were a lot of rehearsals. My joints couldn’t handle the Latin dances like they used to - the jerky movements exacerbating the inflammation and discomfort. That didn’t mean they had to treat me like a fragile porcelain doll though.

I narrowed my eyes at them, “Of course I can handle it. I could handle it this entire time…which is why I’ve been asking for more capable partners.”

Joe smiled, “Well, good. Maybe you can go out with a bang this season.”

What the fuck was this about? I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as I tried to figure out their angle. There was always an angle with them, “Why do I feel like you’re trying to sell this to me?”

Joe grimaced slightly. “We’re not trying to sell it, but we do worry you won’t be happy about it.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the seat, “Who is it?”

Stacia smirked, “It’s Dieter Bravo.”

I looked between the two of them, “You’re joking?”

They shook their heads in unison. This didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t he be better suited with one of the girls that enjoyed a lifestyle similar to his?

“What makes you think he and I will work well together? I know I have a lot of patience, but it does have its limits.”

Joe chuckled, “His people requested you specifically. He’s actually eight months sober and they want him with someone who isn’t going to get him into trouble. He’s trying to clean up his image.”

I scoffed, “I thought you didn’t let the celebrities have any say in who they’re partnered with?”

Joe leaned forward onto the table, “We don’t normally, but given his request and the reasons for it, we felt we should make an exception. We were thinking of putting him with you anyway.”

I shook my head, “You are aware of his reputation, right? Alec is gonna lose his shit over this.”

Stacia smiled, “It’s not your or Alec’s choice. We run the show.”

It dawned on me then. Alec had said there was a last minute lineup change this morning and that’s why he was put with Lana. I had somehow managed to fly under the radar when it came to the producers' manufactured bullshit, but now I was right in the middle of it. They were making moves to create an underlying narrative for the show.

“Who was he partnered with originally? I know it wasn’t me.”

Stacia looked surprised by my question, “He was never partnered with anyone else before you.”

Stacia was lying. She couldn’t look at me directly when she answered my question - it was her tell. I knew how their minds worked. Dieter Bravo had a reputation for causing trouble and they were looking to exploit it. I’m sure his request caused a hiccup in their plans, so now they were making adjustments to cause drama surrounding him any way they could.

My eyes shifted between the two of them, “I don’t know what your endgame is here, but I have no intention of playing, just so you know.”

Stacia and Joe sat expressionless, not giving anything away. I assumed they expected this sort of response from me. My tendency to push back at their plans was one of the reasons I wasn’t a favorite of theirs and most likely part of the reason they always worked to get me off the show as soon as possible, every season. Which sucked for my bank account. To add to their reasoning, I wasn’t interesting enough since I never had issues with my partners or whirlwind romances that made for good TV. However, this season they were taking a chance, throwing two bombs in the form of Lana and Dieter into my already tumultuous relationship with Alec. Hoping for an exciting outcome that would play out behind the scenes to stir up tabloid fodder and result in free promotion for the show.

Joe sighed, finally speaking to break the tension in the room, “For what it’s worth, we met with Dieter earlier this morning…he was actually very pleasant and agreeable. I don’t think he’ll be an issue for you, so long as he continues to stay sober.”

My brows furrowed, “It sounds like you have a lot of faith in him. Good to know.” I moved to stand, “Well, if there isn’t anything else you need from me…”

Joe smiled weakly in my direction, “No, I think that’s it for now…just make sure you review the schedule and let us know if you have questions.”

I gave them a sarcastic smile before moving to leave the conference room. As I rounded the corner in the hallway, looking down at the floor lost in my thoughts and frustration, I ran into someone. I started mumbling my apologies as I looked up at the stranger. I was met with a mess of curls, piercing dark eyes, and a dimpled lop-sided grin. It was Dieter fucking Bravo looking like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said through a chuckle with his hands on my shoulders to catch me from running head first into him. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he can’t call me that.

He had a slight smirk on his face now, “Katarina, right? Looks like we’re gonna be dance partners.”

I shook my head, my lips set in a tight line, “Don’t call me that.”

His brow furrowed, “What? Katarina?”

I scoffed, “No, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. It’s inappropriate. You can call me Kat like everyone else.”

He was obviously taken off guard by my cold demeanor as he gave me a confused look, “I didn’t…mean anything by it, I-I call everyone sweetheart.”

I nodded, “Well, you're not gonna call me that.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a beat, “I guess I’ve earned that. Sorry, I won’t do it again.”

I inhaled deeply, biting my bottom lip as I did so. It didn’t go unnoticed that his eyes shifted down to my mouth. “Look, this is my last season and I just wanna get through it without any drama, ok?”

A crease formed between his brows as his jaw ticked to the side, “What makes you think I’m gonna cause drama?”

I shook my head, now realizing how big of a jerk I was being, “Umm…I…”

He continued to stare at me with a burning intensity, “Just so you know, I’m sober…have been for eight months. Drama is not my thing these days…”

I gave him a tight smile, “Good…hopefully you can stick to it.” Fuck. That did not come out how I meant for it to.

I could see his jaw muscles flex before he let out a small laugh. His eyes finally shifted downward. He almost looked hurt by that comment.

I sighed, “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

His brows arched as he peered at me through his lashes, “You know, I requested to be partnered with you because I was told that you're professional and wouldn’t be judgmental about my past…I guess I heard wrong. I suppose I should just expect it at this point, right? Maybe I shouldn’t have such high expectations of others.”

My mouth fell open as I shook my head. I’m such a fucking asshole. He didn’t give me a chance to say anything before he spoke again, “I guess I’ll see you at rehearsals tomorrow. Have a good afternoon.” He gave me a sad smile as he brushed past me. I stood there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot watching him as he walked toward the exit. That was a great first impression. Good job, Kat.

“Who was that?” Alec asked from behind me.

I turned, running my fingers through the top of my hair out of frustration, “That was my new dance partner.”

Alec squinted toward the figure standing near the exit, now stopping to look at his phone, “Is that Dieter Bravo?”

I could feel my jaw tighten as I took in Alec’s expression, “Yes, it is.” Alec’s head snapped toward me, “I don’t want you working with him.”

I smiled sarcastically, “Really? And you think I have a choice in that? They made it clear, there is no other option. I asked.”

Alec shook his head, “You could just not do this season. You're quitting anyway. Why not go ahead and drop out?”

My eyes widened at his suggestion, “Because I need the fucking money, you know that.”

He chuckled, “Right, for the dance studio.”

I scoffed, “Yeah, for the dance studio. I don’t understand why you can’t support me on that.”

Alec didn’t acknowledge my question, “This guy is a known womanizer. I’m not comfortable with this.”

My head tilted to the side, “So you don’t trust me. That’s rich coming from you. You know…I’m not excited about your partner either, but I didn’t tell you to drop out. If anyone has a right to be concerned, it’s me.”

Alec moved in closer, causing me to back up against the wall as he got in my face. His eyes were blazing with anger, “You’re never gonna let that shit go, are you? That was ten months ago, and I have been loyal to you ever since. Yet here you are…still throwing it in my fucking face.”

I had a sudden defiant streak hit me, “You’re the one who brought it up by insinuating that you couldn’t trust me. I’m just reminding you who the problem is in this relationship.”

Alec moved to put his hand on the wall next to my head as he leaned in further - his nose nearly touching mine as I turned my stoney face away from him, “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again,” he spat out.

I could feel his eyes drift over my face for a moment before he pulled away and walked off.

I huffed out a quiet “Fuck” as I exhaled a shaky breath and watched him walk toward the dressing rooms. When I glanced back toward the exit, Dieter was still standing there, frozen in place with his phone halfway to his ear. Once he realized I was looking his way, his head dropped downward, and he slowly turned to exit the building.

Dieter’s POV

As I walked out into the scorching afternoon sun, I ended the call to check my voicemail, deciding I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. I was frustrated by my first interaction with Katarina. It didn’t go how I expected, and honestly, she had hurt my feelings. Based on everything I had heard about her, I didn’t think she would throw my past up in my face like that. At least not immediately, if at all. She did seem a little flustered, maybe she was just having a bad day?

What followed after our exchange was even more bizarre. It looked like she was having a tense conversation with the man that I assumed was the one she was dating. Lenny had mentioned she was engaged to one of the other dancers. When the man first leaned in, I initially thought they were just having a private moment, but then I noticed the look on Kat’s face as she turned away from him. Something about it was unsettling and for a brief moment, I considered interrupting them. Luckily, I didn’t have to. However, I was left feeling that I had witnessed something I wasn’t supposed to.

Even though our conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, I was still struck with how beautiful Katarina was in person. Pictures and TV didn’t do her justice. It was probably a good thing she was seeing someone, otherwise I would be in danger of making a fool of myself. Then again, I probably would anyway. My sober self didn’t seem to know how to act around a pretty lady. My confidence and self-assurance definitely weren’t on the same level these days.

When I got home, I spent more time than I would like to admit staring at my reflection in the mirror - trying to remind myself that I was no longer the piece of shit that everyone still saw me as. It was still hard for me to accept that the old me and the new me were two very different people. Some days it really did seem like it was easier being the old Dieter Bravo, because he didn’t care about how he was perceived by others. I often longed for him to come back, just to quiet the thoughts of self-hate and inadequacy. Those thoughts really could be suffocating and hard to overcome. It was near impossible living with myself on those days.

The anticipation of how our first rehearsal would go was starting to get to me. So, I decided to spend the rest of the evening trying to relax and take my mind off things. With classical music blaring from the sound system, I moved through the house to check in on my plants - watering, misting leaves, and pruning. It was a new hobby I had picked up since rehab. It started with one succulent plant that had seen better days. My neighbor had left it sitting next to the trash bin on garbage collection day. For some reason, I had an urge to attempt to save the shriveled mass. After a few weeks, it was showing new life as the deep purple hues started to form on the leaves. My plant obsession bloomed from there. Now I wasn’t even sure how many I had. I was fairly certain my housekeeper was going to quit if I brought any more home.

After I was finished with the plants, I spent some time painting until I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer. It was nearing midnight by the time I had showered and crawled into bed. Even though I was completely exhausted, I couldn’t shut my mind off. The anxiety was now building to problematic levels. It was always at this point that I thought about using the most. By now, the old Dieter would be a couple lines in and a few drinks deep to block out the thoughts. The new Dieter suffers through it as he lay in bed alone, staring into the darkness. I drug both hands down my face and huffed loudly before moving to switch on the lamp beside the bed. I reached for my latest self-help book and began reading.

I was startled awake by my 7 AM alarm. I groaned as I felt around next to me on the bed for the shrilling phone to shut it off. I sat up, still half out of it, causing the book that had been lying on my chest to fall to the floor with a loud thump. I got up from bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes as I walked toward the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I stood staring at my reflection again, “You look like shit, Bravo.” It was clear I hadn’t gotten much sleep from my dark circles and puffy eyelids. I threw a warm rag over my eyes for a few minutes in hopes that would help.

Standing in my closet staring at the pile of gym clothes my stylist had picked up, I selected a random pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then pulled the tags off. We weren’t allowed to wear anything with brands or logos on filming days, so I had to break down and buy more clothes. It was probably for the best, my old gym clothes were looking a little ratty anyway.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my backpack that had a few essentials in it and headed toward the front door. As I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind me, I was greeted by my furry squatter who had left another gift near the steps - a dead mouse. I sighed, “Well, at least it’s not on top of the car this time…” The fluffy menace meowed at me as he rubbed against my legs, as if to say, “Look what I did!”

I was determined to not give in to the furry intruder, so I disregarded his attempts for pets. “Don’t you have a family somewhere to annoy?” I muttered to him as I continued toward the car. He followed me halfway down the pathway before sitting down and flicking his tail around as he watched me get into the driver's side and shut the door. He didn’t look happy about being ignored.

I gave myself a quick glance in the rearview mirror, reaching to comb down my hair with my fingers. I hadn’t bothered to fix it, knowing it was going to turn into a mess no matter what I did to it. Then, I started the car and drove in silence to the dance studio, not even really sure how I got there as I pulled into the parking lot. I found myself wondering if I had run any redlights as I walked through the main entrance. I felt like I was in a haze as the camera team talked to me in the lobby to fill me in on the plans for filming.

They wanted to do a brief interview with me before I went into the studio with Katarina. They wanted me to give the whole spiel about how excited I was to be here and working with my dance partner. Truth is, I wasn’t excited. I was nervous as hell, and I was supposed to act like this was the first time I was meeting her. I was unsure of how to act toward her, so when the time came for me to walk through the door to greet her and act excited, I turned on the Dieter Bravo charm the best I could and pretended like yesterday’s conversation never happened.

I was surprised to find how well Katarina did the same thing as she came over to greet me with a smile and a hug and gushed about how excited she was to work with me. However, we were both avoiding looking at the other directly. Clearly there was still some lingering awkwardness between us. After they filmed the introduction, they wanted to get some quick shots of us rehearsing.

These first few days of rehearsal were meant for learning the basics. We were not actually getting into the first routine yet. We started with some simple stretches and moved into learning the proper frame, the different types of positions, and spacing for the different types of dances. It was all very high level and fast, but Katarina had promised that we would go over it in more detail once the film crew left for the day. The quick pace was mostly for the benefit of the film crew so they could get what they needed and move on to the next couple.

Once filming was done for the day, we took a seat on the floor for a water break as the crew gathered up all of their gear to leave. We mostly sat in awkward silence until we were finally alone. I could feel Katarina’s eyes on me as I stared at the water bottle in my hand. She spoke first.

“I feel like I should apologize about yesterday…I was having a shit day and kind of took it out on you. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean what I said.”

I pursed my lips and shrugged, “It’s fine. I’m used to it at this point.”

She reached out and grasped my wrist with her left hand, the heat of her touch raced through me as I looked at the glittering ring on that finger for a moment before meeting her eyes, “It doesn’t mean that it should keep happening though. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

I huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, except I’m on like my tenth chance. I understand why no one takes me seriously. Really, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Her face softened as she stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to decide what she wanted to say next. Then she shifted her body to face me as she crossed her legs, “It is a big deal. It’s a big deal to me because I know better. You know…”

She paused, appearing to gather her thoughts. I moved to lean back on my hand and face her more fully with my legs stretched out to the side. My teeth bit into my bottom lip as I watched her face shift to a somewhat pained expression. It was brief, but I still caught it before she gained her composure.

“My uhh…my dad was sober for about 14 years before he passed. I know how hard it was for him in the beginning…with everyone doubting him and not giving him a chance. It’s one of the reasons he relapsed the first few times. It can be hard when you don’t have any support from the people around you. I know that…and I don’t wanna be one of those people. You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you, so I wanna make sure I’m giving you a fair shot and support you as long as you’re actively trying to better yourself. I know first-hand that people do change.”

Is she fucking serious? I couldn’t move or speak. She had stunned me again for the second day in a row. I never would have guessed she would share something so personal, especially on our first day together. She seemed sincere in her apology.

I finally managed a curt nod before I reached to rub at the crease between my brows, “Thanks…I uhh…I appreciate that.” I let out a small laugh, “I appreciate it more than you probably realize, actually.”

She gave me a tentative smile, “Does that mean I’m forgiven for being an asshole then?”

I chuckled, “Of course…and I didn’t think you were an asshole. Not really. I had a feeling you were having a bad day.”

“Whew…ok. Good. I was worried I had already fucked this whole thing up before it started.”

Ok, it’s kind of hot when she says fuck. I smirked, “Does this mean I get to call you sweetheart now?”

She narrowed her eyes on me and shook her head, “No. No sweetheart.” She laughed quietly, “But, I might consider a different nickname if you come up with a good one.”

My lips spread into a cheeky smile, “I think I can come up with something.” She laughed into the top of her water bottle as she took a sip with a slight flush creeping up her neck. Am I flirting right now? I don’t even know what I’m doing. Geez. I looked away in an attempt to reign myself in. I can’t be doing that.

We were soon back at it, now with a more relaxed atmosphere. We again started with getting my frame right. I stood in place as she moved my arms to the proper position, pushing in between my shoulder blades to straighten my posture. After several minutes in the position, I couldn’t help the groan that slipped out, “This is gonna do a number on my back muscles, isn’t it?”

She snickered, “You will definitely have better posture by the time I’m done with you. Now, elbows up, you should have a horizontal line from elbow to elbow…and hold it there.”

She then stood in front of me, taking in my form for a moment before manipulating my hands into the proper position.

Smiling, she nodded in satisfaction as she stepped closer, “Ok, now let’s go over the hold. The hold is important because it’s how we connect…how our bodies communicate movement to lead and follow.”

As she spoke, she moved closer, placing her arm along the top of my right one and clasping my left hand in hers. She was very matter of fact with her words as her eyes bore into mine. It was almost distracting.

“I need you to make sure there’s no space between our arms…here, so keep your elbow flush against mine.” She bounced her arm against the top of my right one to emphasize what she meant. “This is an important connection point because I can feel the pressure from your arm, which will tell me how to follow. As for your left hand, keep it at my eye level. We apply pressure here as well for another connection point.”

All I could do was nod along with her words, completely mesmerized by her intensity. Once she felt we had the hold down, she began to explain the differences in spacing for standard ballroom versus Latin dances.

“So…in Latin style dances, we’ll have more space between us…like we are now. It gives us more room to move. We’re gonna be slightly offset from each other while maintaining this closed position. Got it?”

I nodded again as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I wanted to look at her directly, but I couldn’t. Between her eyes burning into me and the tingling from her touch, I felt like my skin was on fire. I didn’t know what to make of it and it was sort of fucking with my head.

Then she stepped even closer, the front of our bodies nearly flush as she slightly adjusted the position of our arms. I swallowed hard over her proximity and the tangy citrus scent that was now invading my senses. Fuck. I might be in trouble.

“For standard dances, like the Waltz and Foxtrot, we’re gonna be closer…like this. Our frame will be a little wider and our arms will be positioned slightly lower. We’ll both be looking off to our left instead of directly at each other.”

I cleared my throat, stepping back slightly, “Sooo…umm…do we look off to the left for Latin dances?”

Her brows arched as her eyes widened, “Good question. I should have mentioned that. There’s typically more direct eye contact in the Latin dances. It’s actually another form of connection…another way for us to communicate without words.”

She moved back into the Latin dance hold, now making direct eye contact with me. I couldn’t help how my eyes roamed over her face, taking in the minor changes in her expression as she spoke. I wasn’t sure if the close proximity of the standard hold or direct eye contact with the Latin hold was worse. They were both a little overwhelming.

“Alright, let’s try some steps. We can start with the Rumba.”

She broke away for a moment to show me the foot movement, then had me give it a try. After a successful attempt, she positioned us back into the Latin hold and we began moving together. Once it seemed we had the footwork down, she backed away with a smirk on her face.

“You’re actually really good at this, you know. We do need to work on eye contact though.”

I smiled nervously as I looked down at my feet and rubbed the back of my neck, “I’m sorry…I know. Direct eye contact is a little weird for me.” I glanced up at her through my lashes, slightly embarrassed by the admission.

She smiled and arched a brow in my direction, “Really? I never would have guessed that based on your love scenes.”

My eyes widened. I do not need to think about her watching me dick someone down on screen. Focus, Bravo. I chuckled nervously, “Yeah, I’m not usually looking directly into their eyes during those. I tend to stare between their eyebrows.”

She gave me a sly smile now, snickering, “Oh, is that why you usually look cross eyed then?”

My brow furrowed as I gave her a mock look of offense, “I don’t look cross eyed. That’s rude.”

She cackled over my response, “I’m joking. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one of your love scenes to know how your face looks.”

I scrunched up my nose, “Ouch, ok…so you don’t watch my movies. Got it.”

Her laugh had simmered to a quiet chuckle now as she lightly smacked my shoulder, “I’ve seen some…just not any with a love scene. So don’t be so offended. I’ve seen those TikTok videos though…they gave me a good idea of what I’m working with.”

I rolled my eyes, “Ugh…those fucking TikTok videos. They’re so bad.”

I had to admit, it was nice to be joking around with her after all the tension that had built up from yesterday. I took it as a good sign that this might actually go ok. What I didn’t expect was the attraction that I was starting to feel as our day went on. However, the obnoxiously sized engagement ring she wore on her finger helped keep that in check every time I saw it sparkling in the light when she moved. As long as that shiny reminder was there, I would be ok...

Right?

Next: Week 2

✨FUN FACTS: All cast members on Dancing with the Stars are in fact required to get a weekly spray tan. They also do not get to choose their partners, costumes, music, or themes. They can make recommendations obviously, but the producers do not have to honor the requests. When it comes to pairing partners, the producers do have a "formula".

A/N: I wanted to take a quick minute to welcome all of my new and old readers! So happy to have you all with me for my next adventure with Dieter Bravo. For the new folks, I'm a sucker for predictions and theories. If you have them, drop them in the comments so we can discuss. Now on to my normal nonsense...how are you guys feeling about the first chapter? How do you feel about Dieter and Kat's first couple of interactions? What about all the characters that were introduced? I'm curious to know who you want to throat punch more, Alec or Stacia? I'm already in love with these two and I can't wait to share more of them. This Dieter is...something else. I love sharing things from his point of view. He is going to be a good time, as expected. Kat is...kind of a mess, but also not? It's been interesting being in her head. How do you see things progressing with these two? Lastly, a quick thank you to @maggiemayhemnj for giving this first chapter a quick read through to make sure all these plot points were introduced in a way that made sense...because seriously, there is a lot going on here. She also found the perfect disco ball looking dividers for this...and I fucking love them. 😘 👉 I did a fun post about Dieter's plant hobby and his furry visitor. Check it out HERE. 👉 In case you missed it, I also did a character introduction post, which you can find HERE. Until next time, 💜 Mysty

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