#first I got food poisoning right before flying home and had to take my physics final on Xmas eve which I fully believe I failed

[horsemage]

Jesus christ why do I feel so much like a hunted animal (<- knows exactly why)

[thevibraniumveterans]

Tony Leung: “[Wenwu] isn’t a villain at all!”

On September 6, 2021, Tony Leung sat down with Hong Kong actress Carol “Dodo” Cheng for an interview about life, sports, and of course, his latest Hollywood outing as a widower who grieved the death of his beloved wife and a father who “didn’t know how to love [his children]” in Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings.

=

Interview is originally in Cantonese, and has been translated into English.

FULL TRANSCRIPT BELOW:

-

Today I'm really pleased to interview Tony Leung Chiu-Wai. The last time I really chatted with you in earnest was... Do you remember? In 2013.

I think that time I was with...

We were on a plane together. 

At the mall? On a plane?

We arrived in Hong Kong, and went to some awards ceremony. We were waiting for our luggage, exchanged a few words. That was 2013, and we haven’t met since. Where did we meet up next? I’m sure you won’t remember. It was here in Hong Kong. I was surprised by you. I usually go to the supermarket, very early in the morning. Because there's no-one there. 

Yeah.

I saw you there.

I think that was probably it. Not too crowded in the morning. 

You too. Why so early in the morning?

To... buy food. I usually wake up at 6am. I’d exercise until about 10am-ish, and then I’d…

Go for a walk.

Shower, then shop for food. I usually eat quite simply— it’s either salad, or buckwheat noodles. Salad doesn't stay fresh very well. So I’d get up early in the morning, shop for what I like, and prepare it at home.

Have you been eating healthy all this time?

I’m not doing this particularly for my health. I get an upset stomach easily. I get food poisoning very easily. And it’s miserable having food poisoning! When you’re at work, others don’t know how bad you’re having it. But you can’t tell-- you can’t convey that.

Alright, at this point it’s time for a nostalgia trip. We used to be colleagues, and we’ve shot TV series together. At that time, did you feel that you could eat whenever and not have to sleep… When did you start prioritising your health?

When did it start? I think it would have been… at least 20 years ago. Because it’s miserable being sick while on set. You’ve got to keep working. Even when I had a fever, (producer) Wong Kar-Wai would say, “No, it’s the last day, you’ve got to make it.” So I would work with a fever!

It’s good that everyone's health-conscious now, and wants to avoid falling ill. So when I was preparing for this interview, some friends told me, They’d seen you and me do an interview, from many years ago. I don’t think you’d remember. We’re talking many years ago - decades here! You were really young at the time. At the TV station you were a rising star, a top male lead actor. So I interviewed you. I asked you a question, and I don’t know if you remember how you answered. I asked, “Have you thought about retirement?” You did give me an answer at the time. Do you remember at what age you said you’d retire?

I really don’t remember. I’m sure retirement was always on my mind then.

You were in your 20s then, not quite 30. You told me— “I will definitely retire at 36!”

[laughter]

What changed your mind?

I believe that when I started out as an actor, it was certainly hard work when I was just starting out. But I thought, I wouldn’t get to where I am today without going through tough times. But as I slowly grew as a person, my perspectives and values have changed. I feel more at ease. So I wouldn’t think in extremes like I did before. I think that in the past 10, 20… 10 years? I've become a more relaxed person. I wouldn’t just say, “now I’ll retire.” If I want to keep going, I will.

This is your favourite line of work, isn’t it?

Except sport. 

Could you imagine yourself in any other career? I can’t.

I’d be a sportsperson. 

A sportsperson, playing what?

I play a lot of sports. I like mountain biking, sailing, water skiing, surfing… I’m up for anything. 

You really like water sports, don’t you?

It’s hot in Hong Kong, and summer takes up most of the year. What’s more refreshing than being in the water?

How about in winter?

I’d still be in the water, wearing long sleeves.

You wouldn’t take up running?

I don’t particularly like it… I can’t seem to find much variety in running. I like to interact with nature directly. There’s something new every day. Take sailing, for example. Every day is different, the weather changes.

Your body is in a different condition every day.

You're working with the changing conditions. You end up building up a lot of knowledge. You learn about nature, the weather, changes in conditions. The water, currents, what do you call it... Hot weather warms the ocean and you’ll have gusts of wind. I didn’t know all this. But the more I sailed, the more I thought,“This is great!”

You’ve got a real passion for this.

I do.

What have you been up to during the pandemic? It’s been 1— almost 2 years, hasn't it?

I was filming in 2 movies… And... flying here and there.

Do you need to quarantine? 

Quarantine! Countless times.

We’ve talked for so long, let’s come back to this film, Shang-Chi. I believe Tony has received endless invitations to appear in overseas films. Why did you choose this film?

I didn't really... I believe it’s fate to be involved in certain films. I can’t just want to act in some type of film, then get it. An opportunity comes up, but sometimes the director might not like me, or I might not like the screenplay. Or I might like the director, but I don’t like the character. So you can’t just make this sort of thing happen. I think sometimes the time will be just right and things will happen. The director may like me, and I like the project, or I like the director. Or I might want to try something in particular. It takes a lot, a combination of factors, for something to happen.

It's like a piece of furniture, isn't it? The pieces need to be joined precisely.

Yes.

How were you scouted for this movie? How were you approached?

The director approached me, wanted to have a chat with me. So I...

What's your requirements for taking on a film? Do you need to read through the whole screenplay?

That would be best. It would.

You would've been in many films without a solid screenplay, wouldn't you?

There would still be an idea. 

An overview of sorts.

But this movie... You know Marvel is very secretive. At the beginning, I was in a video conference call with the director. What he could tell me at the time was, "You're going to be the main villain. Your character has many layers." Then I asked, "do I need to fight?" "No, because you have those rings." So I said, "then I'll definitely be fine." That was all.

What about that drew you in? Being the main villain?

That was one of the draws. In the past few years, I wanted to try characters different to those I'd played previously.

Why do all actors who have played male leads want to go off and play villains?

Actually... there's more complexity to them. I feel like there's a different mindset between playing a protagonist and an antagonist. I've acted for 30-something years. It's about time I did something different.

So you're in, you're headed to the shoot, and you're now the main villain! What's the mindset behind this?

Oh, not for this film. I thought I was the villain at first. A month before the shoot, I read the script. I didn't think this character was a villain at all. There was a real human side to this villain. Perhaps Marvel was hoping to portray a villain from a different angle this time around. So I was puzzled. Initially I was expecting, "Ooh, a villain, this will be fun", but when I looked at the script, "no, this isn't a villain at all!"

Very sentimental? 

Yes, and a lot of humanity.

You thought it would be easy playing a villain.

I didn't think it would be easy.

You didn't think there would be so much emotion. 

I didn't think it would be easy. I thought there would be more evil in him. I read the script and thought, "oh no, he's not evil at all", And that's difficult to portray. How would you let the audience... and I thought, "wow it's as if he's a good guy?" I read through the script and couldn't find the evil in this character.

How would you portray this character? Was the director able to help you?

The director...

Or did he put a lot of trust in you? 

I rarely... He put a lot of trust in me, and I don't discuss with the director often. I thought, what's the use of discussing? I could just act it out. You can be really idealistic when you discuss. I would rather do more... When I arrived, Destin would ask me, "Do you want to talk it out?" and I would say no.

Was there a read-through? 

No, no read-through.

You went straight to shooting?

Yes, straight to the shoot.

Then it would be like, "Tony, stand here, in this shot do this and that, and you'd do it?

Yeah. It was kind of like that. We filmed the action scenes first. So there was time to warm up. Then the dramatic parts. I like the drama most. I felt the most excited during these parts. The action scenes were particularly tough, because it was summer in Australia then.

Did you need to train?

I did. At first I was told I didn't need to fight. Then when I got there— wow, there's so many action scenes! So I scrambled and...

But you've got those rings. You can just throw the rings.

Sure, but there's still some action involved. Because I didn't physically prepare beforehand, it was rather tough at first. I got used to it as the shoot went on, but the weather was still hot. And there were period costumes, so it was tough at first.

So there was a sequence, they filmed all the action scenes first, and then scenes with dialogue afterwards, is that right?

I think they deliberately scheduled this so I could warm up a little. So I wouldn't need to dive straight into very intense dialogue.

There are a lot of actors involved, right? Your character has a son, too. Is this the first time you're portraying a dad?

Would it be my first time... 

Or you have, but not for a much older son?

Yes, not for a much older son. I had a child in “The Grandmaster” as well. But not that old, no.

How would you portray the emotions of a father-son relationship? Because your character didn't know his son. 

It was manageable. In this movie, the father-- not that he didn't love his children. He didn't know how to love them. This character doesn't even know how to love himself. The love was from his wife, portrayed by Fala Chen, He found love in this woman. But he doesn't know how to love others. So he was very distant from his children, his sons— his daughters were pretty much ignored. He was a father figure who preferred sons over daughters, a rather... traditional father archetype. Almost the old-fashioned type.

In shooting this movie, what was most difficult for you?

The action scenes. 

Do you do all these scenes yourself?

I try to, but they wouldn't let us do the really dangerous ones. If you're injured, who's going to replace you?

Sure.

But I try to do as much as I'm able.

You'd need to rehearse the scenes with everyone. 

Of course. Once we arrived, they arranged for Fala, my son, played by Simu, and my daughter... like you and I used to, we would all practice in the studio.

How long were the working hours?

It was 10 working hours a day, but we went all the way through that. There was no break in between. 

Really? I thought you would be sitting comfortably in your trailer?

No! We filmed a lot every day! You know how that made me felt? It felt like I was in my TV days again.

Really?

You'll think, "will we get through this much filming today?" And by the end of the day, you would. But it was very intense. Perhaps they didn't want us to have a break, because we'd have to disperse and regroup. So we went all the way through. Once we arrived in the studio, it was full steam ahead. There was no meal break, because there was always...

No meal break?

No.

I've never heard of a Hollywood film shoot without meal breaks.

There's food throughout the day. Catering comes around, and we'd just eat.

But there wouldn't be an hour for a meal break.

No.

How long was shooting in total?

I was involved for about... 4 months.

Was that long or short timeframe, in your experience?

I felt like it was short, because they were very efficient and organised. They planned it really well. So every you'd head in and whoosh,

It flowed well. 

Yes, very professional.

In your opinion, are there particular scenes you're in that the audience should pay attention to?

I think... I wouldn't say particular scenes, but the film as a whole. I don't think you've all seen me in this get-up before.

We could tell from the promos.

Very different to what I've played before.

Did you stay in one place for four months, or did you have to fly around?

We were only in Sydney, because we were in a studio. It was all green screen. There were a lot of special effects, so we only had to construct part of a set, And the rest was green screen, so it was mostly shot in the studio. Only the opening and ending were elsewhere, in a park, and in a village on a set they'd constructed. So I was there for... I was in Sydney the whole time. But because of the pandemic, I left for a few months in the middle, and returned when were were able to shoot again.

How did you feel about your experiences after the shoot? It's a Marvel movie, very different from the dramas and other films you've been in. How would you sum up your experiences?

Very stressed, very frustrated.

Really?

Because I'm the type of person who stays in their comfort zone. I filmed with familiar directors, and familiar crew.

You've really leapt out of your zone there.

I really stepped out of this comfort zone, working with strangers. The only person I could trust in was the director. I didn't know anyone else there. And when I got a copy of the screenplay, like I mentioned, I realised, "Wow, a villain that doesn't feel like a villain, what do I do?" I'd only received the script a month before the shoot. And when I got there, I had to work with the dialect coaches on delivery. I was filming, I was thinking... it was stressful. But we got through in the end.

Where were the costumes done?

In Tokyo. I was there at the time, and our costume designer kindly flew over to dress and fit me. At the time I didn't know what was in the script, I didn't know the story. But the costumes helped me a lot at the time. The movie's costumes were made beautifully. I thought they had good design sense. So when I was dressed for the first time, I was able to feel...

That you were the character.

Yes, roughly. I had an initial feeling for it. And then I would turn up in person, and get a better feel as I played the character.

So the shoot is over, it's about to be released. What plans do you have next, Tony?

Well when I came back to Hong Kong, I took part in a local film. Then I might shoot one in Shanghai, and then a TV series in Vancouver.

So you've done a complete turn-around since I last interviewed you. You were thinking of retiring at 36, do you not plan to retire now?

Not that I haven't thought about it... I'll stop when I feel tired. Then I'll go back to playing sports. If I feel like I've taken too long a break, and go "no, I need to do something," and there's something I'm really interested in, I'll do it. I don't need to come to a complete stop. It's something I like, after all.

So when you film in future, you wouldn't be thinking, "oh, I've been in a Hollywood production, "I will only appear in productions at that tier.” You'll be happy with a good screenplay.

Yes.

You might be asked to shoot drama films again. You would still take that on?

Well, I haven't given myself...

You've already left your comfort zone.

Yes, but I haven't really limited myself to what I think I should film. If there's a good film, I'll shoot in it. If there's something I like, I'll do it.

Well Tony, surely a typical day in Hong Kong for you wouldn't be on the water all day. What's a typical day like for you without shoots?

Well I'd get up, and there would be at least 2 hours of exercise.

Every day?

Yes.

Monday through Sunday?

Maybe one, half day's rest. You've got to let your body recover.

How about when you're shooting in Hollywood?

Not during filming, I'd save up my energy for that. Shooting takes 10 hours a day, but hair and makeup could take 2 hours. That's 12 hours, and it was tiring.

That's true.

I needed the energy for filming. But in Hong Kong, without a shoot, I'd have 2 hours exercise in the morning, make lunch, I might do some sports, like sailing, or water skiing. I'll come home, maybe watch a movie, or read a book. That's it. Maybe I'll have dinner.

I wouldn't exactly call that exciting. [Laughter]

It's pretty exciting!

For you, at least.

If the weather's good and I spend the day out sailing, I'd feel really happy about that. But not every day's a good day. I might capsize, and it would feel wrong. But it's not all that bad.

Why don't you enter competitions?

I have entered competitions.

Have you placed in these competitions?

Well... I have placed before.

What did you place?

I think second.

Oh, that's quite good. If you competed in the Olympics in sailing, there's no age limit there right?

Yes, there's no limit. But you don't necessarily have to compete in the Olympics. I could...

But we would all be happier for it, Tony. Imagine, Tony Leung Chiu-Wai representing Hong Kong and winning a medal! You've seen how happy the medalists have been this year.

It's really hard! It's really hard!

Why is that?

You're not as fit as younger people. It's hard. I play sports purely for enjoyment. I feel like it's an experience.

Fair enough.

It's... I'm not the type to want first place or something.

You're not a competitive person.

Yes. I don't want to experience a sport in that way. I'm there for my own enjoyment, not to win.

Let's say in future... since I last saw you in 2013— that wasn't even an interview, and now I've met you after all this time. Let's say in 5 years. What would you be doing in 5 years' time?

Maybe I...

Back then you said you'd retire at 36. I'll ask you again now, let's not dredge up the past. What do you think you'd be doing?

In 5 years' time, I think I would have more time for sports. [laughter]

Still on the water?

Yeah. Well, not necessarily, but a lot of different sports. I do want to try some—

Try running! I've seen Kar Ling (Carina Lau) run before! 

Yes, she likes running, and hiking too.

Why don't you run with her?

I don't really like running.

Hiking?

Hiking, I'd rather... well when I'm skiing, I'd walk in the back country, in good weather, carrying my skis and wearing my cleats, it's the same thing. I'd hike up and ski down. But not that kind of hiking. Well sometimes... when in summer, in Hokkaido, I can't ski. I would still hike, but I wouldn't really like it. But it would be better with friends.

But you don't like being around too many people. 

I sometimes like being with family. But my family... not everyone can hike. One might cramp up halfway.

Since you like being on the water so much, how many people does it take to do that?

One.

Just you?

Yeah.

Just someone to steer the boat.

Uhh... yeah.

It doesn't matter if there's a boat?

I do a lot of different water sports. I have those... electric boards, the type that shoot up like a magic carpet on the water, I have a stand up paddleboard, I can surf by myself too, that's doable. A lot of the sports I do can be done solo. I don't need a lot of people around.

You've really changed from before. You used to like to... go out at night?

Yeah.

That's all gone?

It has for a while. I haven't been in the nightlife for 20, 30 years. I'd eat out for dinner at most. Then I'd go straight home.

I remember I used to shoot TV dramas with you, you surprised me— We've filmed one or two series together, I would go straight home to bed afterwards, because I've always been a morning person. You could still say, "I'm going to go out for a bit." Yet the next day — our call sheets had us in very early — you were still able to make it in on time. Back then…it was a rite of passage.

Because I was young. Yes, and it was life experience. There are things you should do at that age.

Sure. Well, I hope to see you in another production soon. If this series were really successful, would you continue in any sequels?

[laughter] I really don't know, I can't say.

Why's that?

I feel like... as I've mentioned, there's fate involved in shooting a particular film. We'll see where...

…where fate takes you.

...where fate takes me.

Thank you Tony Leung Chiu-Wai for being with us today.

You're welcome.

[motherjoel]

hot cocoa (spencer reid x reader)

summary: spencer accidentally spills some of penelopes famous hot cocoa onto a beautiful stranger in the airport (who just so happens to be sitting next to him on the plane)

a/n: this one takes place during the holidays but its not all about xmas! also i tried to make this gender neutral and i think it is but if i missed something let me know

wc: 2.2k

warnings/includes: reader curses a lot & has flight anxiety, spencer is awkward and sweet

-

Spencer was rarely late- even when he had food poisoning from some bad chinese food, he made it into work with time to spare. Sure, he might have turned green at the sight of the evidence board, but he even made it to the trash can in time. His punctuality had come into question today, however, as he booked it to the boarding area. I shouldn’t have let Garcia distract me, he thought back to the holiday party at the office. Well, surprise party- they had all returned from a case sore and exhausted, but of course Penelope had baked an entire array of cookies and decorated the office to the brim. He stayed for one cup of hot cocoa, which turned into three, and before he knew it, his flight was an hour away. With his travel mug filled with cocoa in hand, he awkwardly ran through the airport to catch his flight home to Vegas.

Spencer never considered himself a coordinated person- sure, he had to have a certain level of finesse to be an FBI agent, but if he wasn’t a genius he never would have passed the physical. So when he found himself tripping over his own feet in the middle of an airport, he wasn’t as much surprised as he was perturbed. That annoyance soon shifted into pure embarrassment when he looked up to see you- the ethereal being he had just spilled Penelope’s famous hot cocoa onto. The beautiful person whose “I <3 DC” sweatshirt was now stained an unattractive shade of brown. His mind went completely blank in that moment, the apology he had wished to conjure up lying dead on his tongue. As he began to stammer in shock he stopped in his tracks- you were laughing. A noise Spencer swears could find world peace and end world hunger. A voice that finally encouraged Spencer to find his own.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized, hands frantically flying to his personal pack of tissues he kept in his bag. You continued to laugh, doubled over as you accepted the wad of tissues.

“Oh, it's okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “God, I definitely seem insane. Sorry, I’ve just been having one hell of a shitty day,” you began to explain, confusing Spencer even more. “So my boyfriend breaks up with me the morning of my flight across the country, which I’m running a bit late for,” you continued, glancing at your watch. “But I have to go home for the holidays of course so I pack my shit and head out anyway, but I forget a sweatshirt! I’m freezing cold so I buy this overpriced ugly thing,” you gestured to your now-stained sweatshirt. “Only for you to spill your…” you sniffed the mess, “hot cocoa?” you questioned, Spencer nodded frantically, “all over it. I guess that's one way of warming up,” you huffed. 

“Wow, I- um, I don’t really know what to say. I’m really sorry about your day being bad. And for spilling my drink on you, of course, um,” he reached into his suitcase and pulled out his backup cardigan. “Here, take this,” he said, almost shoving the knitwear into your hands. “Please, it’s the least I can do,” he said, unintentionally flashing what Prentiss called his “puppy dog eyes.” He exhaled in relief as you grabbed the sweater from him, sliding off your stained hoodie and replacing it with his soft and coffee-scented cardigan. 

“Thanks. And I’m sorry for dumping my days' trauma on you, but I really do have a flight to catch, so,” you gestured towards the boarding area (which just so happened to be his designated boarding area). You rushed off to board the plane after giving him a tight-lipped smile and a soft wave, leaving him in a dazed state. Breaking out of his trance, he grabbed his suitcase and continued his beeline towards the plane. 

There was something about you that stuck with Spencer- although it may not have been your proudest moment, he was incredibly intrigued by you and the way you reacted to disaster. Spencer had seen his fair share of terrible coping mechanisms, but the way you laughed in the face of tragedy was something he admired- envied, almost. Envy wasn’t the right word for it, there were no negative connotations he associated with the way he felt about you. Perhaps it was too soon to tell.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped onto the plane, the anxiety of missing his flight finally lifted. Said anxiety was soon replaced by a new feeling that was ruled by a flutter in his chest, one that he had only experienced a few times in his life. This fluttery feeling was the result of seeing you planted in the seat directly next to the one written on his plane ticket. His breath caught in his throat as you looked up from the book in your hand, giving him a small wave. His eyes widened as he looked around, wondering if you were actually waving at him. You laughed and looked back down at your book, a soft smile rested on your lips. As Spencer got closer to his seat he could feel his heart rate picking up. You looked up from your book as he struggled slightly to lift his carryon into the overhead compartment. His cheeks heated up in embarrassment over the struggle, but he eventually managed to secure his carryon, taking a seat in 32 B. 

“So we meet again,” you smiled at the disheveled man next to you.

“So we do,” Spencer smiled and grabbed his copy of Les Miserables from his backpack- he lost track of how many times he had read it, but it was an easy plane read for him.

“I’m Y/N, by the way. Sorry, I probably should’ve introduced myself earlier after telling you my life story. I just didn’t expect to be sitting next to you,” you said with amusement.

“I’m Spencer, and no problem. Hows, um, the sweater?” he asked, trying to continue the conversation. Normally he’d be a quarter through his book by now, but you were a rare something that was more interesting to him than Victor Hugo. 

“It’s great! Cozier than my ‘I heart DC’ hoodie for sure,” you laughed and Spencer swore he heard angels singing.

“I’m glad, I felt really bad. Hot chocolate is actually a really difficult stain to remove because it has fat, sugar, tannins, and protein. It would take a lot of work to remove that stain, especially with the chocolate to milk ratio Penelope uses,” Spencer rambled, the embarrassment setting in the second he closed his mouth.

“Penelope?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, she's my coworker. She’s known for her hot chocolate and her cookies. Oh!” Spencer remembered the plastic bag of cookies Garcia had sent him home with. “Want one? They’re chocolate chip,” he said, grabbing the bag of cookies and holding it out to you.

“Sure,” you laughed, taking a bite of the surprisingly delicious cookie. “Oh. My. God. That is incredible! This Penelope person has a gift,” you laughed, finishing the cookie surprisingly fast.

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” Spencer smiled, taking a cookie for himself. A comfortable silence ensued as the two of you munched on your cookies, the plane almost done boarding.

“So, what brings you to Vegas?” you asked. Spencer was a little confused as to why you wanted to talk to him, but he decided not to question the anomaly.

“Oh, I’m visiting my mother for the holidays. I work at Quantico in Virginia so I don’t get to see her too often,” he shared, surprised at his willingness to be open.

“That’s nice! I’m kinda doing the same, except I am not returning to DC,” you sighed. Spencer felt his heart drop as he internally begged for you to elaborate, and as if reading his mind, you continued. “That boyfriend I mentioned earlier was kinda my only reason for moving here, and now that he's a cheating jackass- sorry, oversharing again, um, now that we broke up, I’ll probably just stay in Vegas,” you explained, opening the book in front of you and mindlessly flipping through the pages. He focused on the chipped nail polish painted on your bitten nails as you turned the pages, eyes moving to the title of the book.

“Le Petit Prince?” he asked, pointing at your book.

“Oh, yeah. I’m trying to teach myself some french so I’m reading this to get a little better,” you smiled before your eyes drifted down to the thick book in his lap. “You’re reading Les Mis?” you asked, slightly shocked at the french writing on the cover.

“Yeah, well it's my.... fourth, I think, time reading it. Well, in the original french,” he said, oblivious to his accidental brag.

“Damn, are you a genius or something?” you laughed, noticing the blank stare on Spencer’s face. “Wait. You are,” you pointed at him, your shock turning into joy.

“Well, technically, I am I guess,” he smiled awkwardly, trying not to flaunt his intelligence.

“That’s so cool! God, maybe if I was a genius I could get past the first chapter of this book,” you huffed, looking defeatedly at your book once again.

“May I ask, why are you learning French? It’s the fourth most important language behind Mandarin Chinese, Spanish and German. That’s just my opinion, of course,” he said, slightly flustered by the look on your face.

“Yeah, I guess it's not the most practical. But there's something so romantic about France, you know?” you asked and he nodded, blushing lightly. “I’ve always wanted to visit Paris, hell, maybe even live there. It’s stupid,” you laughed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“No, it’s not. It’s called the city of love for a reason,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. You were both silent for a moment before the flight attendants began their safety announcements and prepared for takeoff. Spencer noticed you stiffen as the engine started to rumble and the plane got faster. “Are you okay?” he asked as you shut your eyes tightly together.

“Yeah, yes, um. I just have really bad flight anxiety,” you confessed, eyes remaining closed. The plane lifted off the ground and you sucked in a deep breath, instinctively reaching over to grab Spencer's hand. All thoughts of germs and disease had completely left his mind at your touch- facts and logic meant nothing at this point if it meant you wouldn’t let go. “Could you just um, distract me?” you asked, peeking at him from the corner of your eye, hand still clutching his.

“Oh, yeah of course,” he said, thinking quickly for a distraction before grabbing the book from your lap and opening it to the first page. In perfect french, he began to read. “Lorsque j’avais six ans j’ai vu, une fois, une magnifique image…” he read for almost an hour before he felt your head relax on his shoulder, eyes closed. He continued to read for a bit longer before the lull of sleep pulled him under as well, your touch comforting him and providing safety.

Spencer woke a few hours later with a start to the seatbelt light beeping on. Gathering his bearings he looked to his left to see you already awake, looking at him with a smile.

“You’re cute when you sleep. Snore a bit, though,” you laughed and yawned, looking out the window. Spencer's heart rate picked up at your mussed hair and dazed expression. “Thank you for reading to me. I’m completely chill now,” you reassured him.

“Oh, no problem. Also, I’m not the only one who snores,” he quipped, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Hey, gimme a break! That was the most I’ve slept in days,” you defended.

“Believe it or not, me too,” Spencer realized, surprised that he slept more on an airplane than in his own bed. Maybe that difference was you.

“Looks like we’re almost landing,” you noticed, causing a pang in Spencer’s chest.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he acknowledged with a slight tone of disappointment.

“Hey. So this might sound crazy, but what if I gave you my number? And while you’re still in Vegas, maybe we can hang out? Sorry if this is too forward,” you cringed in embarrassment.

“No!” he started, eyes wide.

“Oh, okay. I shouldn’t have asked,” you immediately took back your statement.

“No! I mean, it's not too forward. I, uh would love to… hang out with you,” Spencer said, the words seeming unfamiliar on his tongue. The smile you gave him seemed to stop the earth for a few seconds (although Spencer knew this was scientifically impossible, something about you defied laws of science). 

The plane soon landed and numbers were exchanged, and one unexpected (but lovely) goodbye hug was given, and Spencer was floating. He couldn’t wait to tell his mom.

-

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taglist: @rigatonireid​, @goldenxreid, @aworldoffandoms, @moonshinerbynight, @averyhotchner

[toriwakes]

Problem [Spender Reid x Reader]

summary: the daughter of a famous chef becomes a target, and it’s spencer’s job to protect her.

content warnings: female!reader, cursing

a/n: hello!!! first spencer reid post!! so excited to share, sorry if it’s bad </3. this is obviously inspired by s1 ep18. hope u all enjoy, lmk if you have any requests!

dad was a famous chef. he was known world wide, liked by some and hated by some. that’s how it worked. she had gotten used to the spotlight. it was his, anyway. no one payed much attention to her. or so she thought. when the incident happened she had noticed a pattern. someone was watching her and she didn’t know who. why her? her dad, a hot head, wasn’t going to let this fly easily. and that was a problem.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

“davy plattel, 57. heard of him?” jennifer asked, clearly joking. “he’s an australian chef and has been on 5 different tv shows. all of which he rates food and has a tendency for being cold do this employees.” reid spat out the facts like he’s been waiting to be asked this question since he was born. the team just stared at him before jennifer spoke. “i was kidding.” spencer pressed his lips together as his cheeks flushed pink. “remind me why we’re looking into this guy?” morgan said, flicking through the files. “people going to his restaurants are getting poisoned, press says he’s snapped and is making them pay for making him look like a bad guy for all these years.” derek’s brows furrowed together. “and this is a b.a.u case because?” asked aaron. “right when the poisoning started-“ jj dropped a new file into his lap. “-his daughter (y/n) became a target.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

“you lot are supposed to be the best in the game. figure out who’s hurting my business and find who’s hurting my daughter!” hot head was right. platell was taken into a separate room by gideon and morgan, which left aaron and reid to scout for you. davy told them you’d be in your room. “(y/n) platell? i’m special agent aaron hotchner with the fbi. we’re here to ask you a couple of questions if that’s okay with you?” your eyes lifted from the floor and to the stern man sitting on the edge of your bed. whilst nodding you noticed the taller man in your doorway. “special agent doctor spencer reid. we’re here to help.” hotch and reid walked you to the backyard, a perfect place to interrogate you. “tell me about your relationship with your dad.” spencer spoke first. you gulped. “i love him. he’s my best friend. he’s all i have, okay? he’s overprotective, but whose dad isn’t? he’s going crazy now that the person doing this wants me.” “what about the person who’s after you? any idea who it could be? think of someone who felt invisible to you, inferior.” as hard as you thought, nothing clicked. you shook your head and hotch let out a sigh. “i’m scared.” you admitted. “nothing like this has ever happened before?” spencer asked, almost surprised. “no, everyone focused on him, never on me.” spencer looked like he put pieces together. aaron thanked you for your time and led you back inside, spencer following. you knew the feeling in your stomach. butterflies.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

things got worse at the end of the day. you got a voicemail, an unsettling voice whose gender wasn’t identifiable called, talking about how they didn’t like how much time you were spending with the fbi. not only did this enrage your dad, it caused him to take matters into his own hands and search the bushes around your house. he didn’t find anything. “did the caller say anything else?” gideon asked. you quivered. “they..” you couldn’t catch your breath. “they said they were going to come get me at midnight.” everyone in the room shared a look of panic. “we need to get her out of here.” aaron instructed. “what? no, she is staying with me.” for what felt like the hundredth time today, the agents had to calm down your dad. “we have a safe house to take you to. an agent will stay with you for the night.” jennifer told you. your mind immediately went to reid. “anyone in particular you’d like?” she said, one hand on your shoulder. you leaned into her ear, whispering the name that made you cheeks flush. “spencer.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

the car ride was mostly silent. spencer was playing with his fingers, something you did as well. “are you nervous?” you said finally. he stopped at once, putting his hands into his pockets. “wha? oh, no, i’m fine.” you knew he wasn’t, but you didn’t press. “um- when did you leave australia?” he asked. you giggled. “when my dad started to get recognition, so when i was maybe eight. i didn’t leave much behind, the kids at school didn’t like me. i made my first friend here. gina.” he nodded. “was she nice to you?” “always. never anything but. i get a hot head sometimes- just like my dad. on occasion i would lash out on her, but she always forgave me. i always regretted it, she was really good to me.” spencer furrowed his eyebrows. “what did she act like when you would get mad?” you gave him a look, as if to say “why is this important?”. “well, she would look sad at first. like she didn’t understand why i was mad. she made herself smaller and blamed herself for making me mad. i thought it was weird that she never tried to defend herself.” reid shuffled into his pocket and took out his phone, dialing a number and speaking quickly. “hotch, why have we not considered looking at people close to her? it’s just like the case with that government official and the twin sisters- it was someone close to him. her friend- gina you said?” you nodded quickly. “fits the profile, and is close to her.” voices spoke on the other line before reid asked another question. “what’s her full name?” “gina carmen torres.” spencer retreated the name and you could hear hotch say he’d alert garcia. “it’s not her, i know it’s not.” reid looked at you like you were wrong. you shivered.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

when you got to the house spencer advised that you showered and got ready for bed, spreaking since it was so close to midnight. he stayed outside the shower door and handed you your close when you were done. “cold?” he asked, taking notice of you shaky frame. you nodded. he handed you the sweater he was going to wear to bed tonight, not minding at all. there go the butterflies. you sat one the bed and slid under the covers. “you should get some rest, i’m gonna stay up and make sure nothing happens.” he said. you didn’t fall asleep. “is something wrong? other than the fact that you’re being stalked?” you couldn’t help but laugh. “yes, actually. i don’t wanna admit this, but..i cant fall asleep unless i’m hugging something. and i..don’t have any stuffed animals with me.” spencer raised his eyebrows. “(y/n) if you’re asking me to sleep next to you i-“ “please spence? i’m not gonna be able to sleep anyway, it’ll help at least.” you pleaded, showing off your puppy dog eyes. “okay. fine.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

spencer stayed up all night. sure he was required to stay awake, but he was only staying up because he didn’t want to miss out on how beautiful you looked when you were asleep. you looked so calm, so peaceful. spencer had no idea what he was feeling, but he didn’t want it to stop. he liked you, and a lot. “fuck.” he whispered to himself. the small noise made you stir, but not enough to wake you up. suddenly, a ring came from spencer’s phone. he picked it up before it could wake you. “hello?” he whispered. “reid, we got em bud. found her in the girl’s bedroom of platell’s house. is she safe?” morgan’s voice spoke. spencer looked down at you, petting your head gently. “yea, she’s safe.” “alright man. i’m guessing she’s asleep?” “correct.” “okay. just stay with her, we’ll be there soon anyway.” morgan hung up. soon? damnit, he didn’t have much time left with you. he checked the clock, reading 5am. he wanted to talk to you, but he wasn’t going to wake you up for that. what were you doing to him?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

spencer woke you up at 7:30. “they’ll be here at 10, and i don’t really know your schedule so.. i hope that enough time to get ready.” you rubbed your eyes and examined spencer. he was wearing his sweats and found a white shirt that was a bit too tight on him. he looked cute. “yes, that’s fine. i’ll..i’ll be right back.” you left the room to brush your teeth and get changed, finding reid inspecting some books you had lying around. “i have two copies of that. one at home and one here. just in case.” you said, sitting down right next to him and peering over. “it’s a classic. you like to read?” he inquired. “love it. although i cant stick to a book unless there’s some type of romance.” spencer raised his eyebrows. “call me a dork, whatever. what’s wrong with being into a little bit of love?” you chuckled. “no, in fact i figured you’d be that way.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “profilers. well, tell me what you think of me.” spencer paused before speaking. “i think you’re smart, you know how to pick your relationships-“ “what do you mean by that?” he stopped and pursed his lips, finding what words to say. “you know what you want in friends and boyfriends.” you raised your eyebrows. he couldn’t possibly know. “are you saying you know my type?” he shrugged. “yeah probably.” “try me.” “you like smart guys. guys who are confident, but not full of themselves. you like it when they’re sweet, but demanding. though i don’t know what you find physically attractive.” he said, going back to the book. you pulled it out of his hands. “i can tell you that one. i like guys named spencer reid.” almost instantly his face flushed red and he stopped speaking. you took the liberty of leaning in, your lips ghosting his. “(y/n)-“ “kiss me spence.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

his lips were as soft as they looked. the way he kissed was new to you, but you adapted and matched his energy. due to this, he whimpered as he kissed you. you pulled back to look at him, his face was bright red. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have-“ “spencer!” he cut himself off and looked at you with those full eyes of his. “don’t apologize. i liked it. a lot.” seeing that as his green light he cupped your chin and pulled you in for another quick kiss before getting up and getting ready himself.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

“(y/n)? (y/n)!” your dad showed up at the door a few hours later. “i was worried.” he whispered while you hugged. “i’m fine, dad. we’re fine.” when your dad let go of you and saw spencer lingering a bit too close, he connected the dots. “this boy didn’t try anything did he?” derek was listening now. you opened your mouth while turning to reid, whose eyes were wide with fear. “uh- no. he didn’t do anything but protect me, dad.” that didn’t let up his death stare on him. your dad wandered off to his car, everyone splitting up to leave home. “i’ll see you around.” spencer began to split up as well, but you caught his wrist. “check your pocket. see you.” with that you were gone. reaching into his back pocket, he felt something. a small piece of paper, you number etched on it with a small heart. you’re nothing like he’s used to. and thats a problem.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Winter Whumperland Day 10: Ruin

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 10. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 9 'Planned'. Darkness was all Hiccup knew during those first three months. Darkness and daily defeat. Ruin was his way back into the light.

Warning: Rape/non-con

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 356

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Poisoned”, “Food deprivation”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: After posting Day 'Planned', I decided to hold off on posting Days 10 and 11 until I finished Day 12, which still had such a long way to go. It still does, but I have since split Day 12 into two parts and part 1 is finished. So it felt right to post Day 10.

I think that this thing is the darkest fic I've written to date, the final chapter in Hiccup's story left unexplored. There is still plenty left, but those won't be from his perspective. ;D

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

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"Are we not as lively today as we usually are, Hiccup?" One afternoon in late August, this is the question Viggo asks. His gaze is indifferent, if slightly pleased, as it lingers on the young man sitting opposite to him at a table.

Hiccup looks a little lost as he sits there with him, a barely played chessboard between the two. He's hunched, appearing small, and tired. He's lost weight, but he's not as thin as he was a week ago, when he first left the downstairs area of the Grimborn home, the basement.

When a question is asked of him, he looks back at Viggo and realizes it's been a few minutes since he's made his move on the board. And yet, the older man isn't wondering why Hiccup is taking so long, knowing well enough what the cause for his downtrodden mood is.

He's feeling a little down, a little fatigued. It's not too crazy after what he's been through, after what he's survived and gotten out of. if anything, Viggo is pleased to see him this way. He's never liked Hiccup's 'loudness' from before, though others would argue that Hiccup isn't loud at all. Not in the way Viggo thinks.

"Um, I'm sorry, I'm..." Hiccup apologizes, but he's unsure what he wants to say. He hasn't just been spacing out during their game, he's been doing so throughout the day and during previous days, too.

Does it have something to do with the things done to him? He's certainly still recovering from it and not just mentally, his body is trying to catch up, too. Though his ribs and knee have healed and Viggo is putting enough food in him, he's still worryingly thing and that doesn't help his mental health. It all contributes to the tiredness that he feels.

"It's okay, my Dear, I know that you're having a hard time." Viggo understands, but he's only pretending to be nice, pretending to be concerned.

Hiccup looks down at himself, picking at the loose skin on his fingers. He's hurting, he feels like crying, he feels such shame and he can't see a single part of himself without remembering.

Without a doubt, Viggo can see the emotion growing in his eyes, can see a non-physical weight physically weighing him down. His response to that? Taking his glass of wine to sip from it. In his eyes, this is progress.

But as painful as those venomous memories are, they make Hiccup think of an important question.

"Can I- can I ask you a question?" Hiccup asks cautiously. There is something he needs to know, though he is afraid of the answer. He is very afraid.

"Make your move first, Hiccup, I don't appreciate to be kept waiting. After that, you can ask." Viggo responds, gesturing to the board, and so Hiccup turns his attention quietly back down to their game.

It's only because of Viggo that he knows how to play chess. He might've been a little curious at some point, he knows Fishlegs certainly has been, but it wasn't until Viggo came into his life that he learned how to play.

Maybe he could be good with a little bit more practice, Viggo is quite an experienced players, but his fatigue doesn't allow him to think of any good moves. When Hiccup makes his next one, it's the first one he can find. It might not be the best move, but he's not in the right mindset to even try to go for a win either. He's afraid of what'll happen if he does win.

Besides, he doesn't have the energy for it, he just wants to ask his question and have his answer.

Viggo hum disapprovingly and Hiccup holds his breath for one tense moment.

"Go on, ask your question." But fair is fair, so Viggo awaits his question.

"Do I... Um.. Do I have to ever, you know?" Hiccup can feel his heartbeat growing louder, can feel it pounding against his sternum. He acts subdued, but on the inside, he's full of turmoil and fright.

"Do I ever have to go back? Down-downstairs?" But Viggo is a patient man when Hiccup doesn't make him angry and he manages to ask. Hiccup fears the answer he may receive.

Viggo crosses his arms and hums as if in thought. It is nothing but an act as he already has his answer. He likes to keep Hiccup on his toes, likes to make him worry and stress. It's good, it's how Hiccup knows to behave.

"Well, no, not as long as you're a good boy. I won't have a reason to send you back if you listen and are good, do I?" That answer is barely comforting and Viggo's almost endearing smile doesn't help.

So long as Hiccup doesn't step out of line, he has nothing to worry about. So long as he listens, is a good boy, does everything that's asked and expected of him, he'll be okay. But then, what exactly is 'stepping out of line' to Viggo? Is it when he falls back into his old behavior? When he tries to escape? Or is it something as small as speaking out of turn?

Hiccup could ask, but maybe asking is considered stepping out of line and he doesn't want to risk that.

Thinking back to that place hurts so much and it makes him sick to his stomach. It's awful, so very awful. And the only reason he's sitting in the dining room with the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the window now is because he's given in to him.

He hopes he never has to go through something like that ever again.

"Oh my Dear," Viggo offers a hand and his support as he notices the tears growing in Hiccup's eyes. "My wonderful Dear."

He knows that he's hurting, that was the entire point of keeping Hiccup down there for the first three months of his time here. How can Viggo trust him to be a good boy upstairs if he hasn't learned to obey first? And learning to obey always hurts, learning to be his perfect partner hurts. His tears are a sign that it's working. This is a good thing!

Hesitantly, Hiccup accepts it and places his hand in Viggo's, the man squeezing his in return. Unless it's erotic in nature, Hiccup doesn't get affectionate gestures like this, so it's nice to just have his hand held for once.

Viggo's hand is warm, too. As much as he fears and hates the man, it's just nice to be held.

He knows Astrid liked to walk hand in hand with him, knows his friends liked hugs, he misses those simple things.

Hiccup's lower lip trembles, a lump in his throat, and the tears are impossible to hold back. The affection and thinking of his friends and girlfriends don't help. A thumb rubs the back of his hand comfortingly.

"It'll be okay, Hiccup. Just be a good boy and you don't have to go back. All you need to do is to remember that and listen." Viggo tells him, as if that is a reassuring thing to hear.

As long as he listens, he doesn't have to fear the basement. As long as he's a good boy, he doesn't have to worry.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ryker running Hiccup over with his car injured him gravely, but broken ribs, a dislocated knee, and a hurt hip only kept Hiccup from fighting back for so much. If Viggo has ever hoped that they would, he was wrong.

Once Hiccup got his bearings, once he comprehended the position that he's in, he has only one goal in mind and that is to escape.

The cuffs that were there when he first woke up were only used to keep him from flying into a panic and injuring himself further. The near panic attack Hiccup had was already enough to endanger him.

The next time and the next and every time he wakes up afterward, they aren't there. If he were healthy, maybe they would be used to tie him down, but he isn't and Viggo must believe his ribs enough to hold him down.

He was wrong, of course.

Hiccup is free to leave the bed. And though he can't breathe properly without the painkillers provided by his abductors, Hiccup has enough experience walking around with his bad leg that the dislocation of a joint meant little to him. He can jump and land wrong and it will pop out, this is nothing new to him.

So carefully and slowly, making use of the hours he's alone, he inspects every nook and cranny of the room they keep him in. When Viggo is at work, Ryker doesn't care enough to visit, so that leaves him with plenty of opportunities to explore.

The bathroom, while objectively nice, only has the bare essentials. A toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, body wash, a hairbrush, that sort of thing. None of them are the brands he uses, rather they are the ones his abductor personally prefers.

In his little living space, there is only the bed and that's that. The mattress is decent, the frame sturdy, and the covers and pillowcase soft. Though an asshole, Viggo has a standard he does not lower unless it comes to his murder cabin, which Hiccup won't know about for months.

Besides the bed, there is no nightstand, no shelves, and nothing to entertain him with. Either Viggo hasn't thought of it, didn't care, or purposely didn't want Hiccup to keep himself busy.

There is only the chessboard, the one thing he would sometimes bring down to the basement with him. It takes only a week for Hiccup to hate it with a passion.

But though they don't keep him confined to the bed, his injuries do keep him from doing much to escape. Exploring is one thing, but attempting to fashion some sort of weapon or lockpick or something to undo the hinges of the door is beyond him. What little he already does leaves him breathless.

Besides, it is in his best interest to reserve his strength.

Because when the hours pass and Viggo eventually comes home, he needs it.

In the beginning, they started out as touches. Hiccup could tell that this was purely because of his injuries. If he could breathe right, if his hip and knee could be used at all, his first days in the basement would've already been the closest thing to hell he's known in his short life thus far.

They were small things. Viggo would help him sit up, would give him his painkillers, seemingly normal stuff, but the hand would linger. It would be on his upper arm, his back, his side, eventually on his thigh. And even there, there's a journey closer and closer to his center.

They are discomforting and Hiccup moves out of his reach every time, letting out a discomforting chuckle each time. He just doesn't know how to deal with such intrusive attention.

And then, one day, Viggo dares a kiss and Hiccup punches him for it. His lips aren't wanted on his and Hiccup makes sure he felt it.

He has only been kissed without his consent once before and that was by Dagur. He'd been in complete shock back then, utterly frozen and defenseless. He'd promised himself since that kiss that he would never let anyone kiss him like that again. But Viggo has and so Hiccup acts accordingly.

But then he regrets it shortly afterward, of course. The sudden upwelling of violence makes his wounded ribs scream. He holds it, collapsing to his knees while Viggo stands over him and holds his lower jaw, flexing it angrily.

"I suppose it was foolish of me to think you wouldn't fight back, though you've certainly surprised me with the violence you appear to be capable of." There is venom in his tone and eyes, his anger barely restrained. His pride has been hurt.

Hiccup groaning and struggling to draw in any oxygen on the floor does nothing to him.

"But don't worry, it's been duly noted and will be dealt with appropriately." With those final words, Viggo takes his leave. Turning and walking away, locking the door behind him as he goes.

But as time passes, there is no retaliation, no punishment. Though Viggo has been angered, there seems to be no reaction of any kind. Hiccup thinks it strange, but he's never been kidnapped by an obsessed man before.

Dagur certainly tried once with his convincing a 15-year-old boy to run away with him, but he's nothing like Viggo. So Hiccup still doesn't know what to expect. If he had, that meant he would've seen the red flags, and that meant he might not even be in this situation.

And then, Hiccup is plunged straight into hell.

Because the next day, his breakfast is brought, as per usual. Though always cautious, Hiccup takes it and eats it because he wants to heal, wants to regain his strength, and that's when the trouble begins. He doesn't know what could've been used, but that innocent bowl of plain cereal was poisoned.

He remembers Viggo bringing it to him personally, his fond smile turning into a malicious smirk when Hiccup reaches the end of his meal. He takes the bowl back and then leaves, wishing him a "pleasant time" in the basement.

And now here he is, clutched to the toilet like his life depends on it.

Ever tried vomiting with two broken ribs? This is Hiccup's first time and he can attest to how excruciating it is.

Every lurch isn't just accompanied with the usual burning throat and foul taste, but also with the agony of his injured side forcible contracting together to get the contents of his stomach out of him.

His stomach, plagued by horrible cramps, wants to be relieved and at the same time, his lungs would love some air. They battle to have their needs met and that just makes the entire experience about a hundred times worse than it already is. A hundred times more traumatizing, too.

Sitting on his bad knee and hip helps little. With the urge to throw up, there is the urge to do anything but kneel in front of the toilet on the hard, tiled floor. About every part of this is pure, unadulterated torture.

To make things even worse, there is the constant fear of a broken rib moving and collapsing his lung. Ryker certainly wouldn't care enough to take him to a hospital in time and Viggo might rather want to clean his hands free of him than risk being caught as a kidnapper. They wouldn't come to his aid, they will let him suffocate to death instead.

Every time the urge to retch comes, he tries to suppress it. For the sake of his ribs, to have control over his own body again, sobbing, coughing his airways free. Every time he tries, it gets so much worse, but that makes him want to try harder, and so the cycle continues.

Time passes, the cycle is endless, the pain is torment and all Hiccup can do is beg.

"Please, don't make me throw up any more." He whimpers, everything hurting, throat burning, voice hoarse.

All day this cycle goes on and on. Every half an hour the urge strikes, until it continues long after there is nothing left in his system to give up, until all he does is dry heave in desperation, until the wee hours of the night.

Sweating, trembling, beyond exhausted,  and grossly sobbing and hiccuping, Hiccup still clutches to the toilet bowl hours after his tainted breakfast.

He wants it to end, he wants to sleep, but his stomach is still upset and he doesn't want to leave the safety of the bathroom.

It's been at least an hour since the last time he threw up and that means he's carefully allowing himself to hope that this is it, that this is the end of his suffering for the day. If he could, he would fall asleep right here on the cold floor.

His right side is on fire and his abdominal muscles are sore after the workout they've gotten. He can barely swallow, throated burned from all the stomach acids.

Conveniently, after not showing his face the entire day, Viggo decides now is the time to make his entrance. Hiccup could've used a little support during the day instead of being forced to go through those long hours of torture completely alone. He has pleaded for his mom and dad at some point.

Watching him shiver with a look of sadistic satisfaction, their gazes meeting, Viggo can see the pain and the tiredness in them. Hiccup's arm is on the seat, his head resting on the limb while he sits there limply.

"Learned your lesson?" Viggo asks with an air of arrogance to him. It's as if he expects him to fall to his feet and beg for forgiveness right then and there.

"Water? Please?" He asks softly, tone barely above a whisper.

"Hm-hm, have you learned your lesson?" Viggo repeats. If Hiccup wants to have that glass of water, he needs to earn it first.

"Please, Viggo. Please," Viggo, believing this to be an admittance of defeat, takes his suit jacket to lay over Hiccup's shoulder, he must be cold after all of that.

"Let us get you washed up and hydrated." He tells him, playing nice now that Hiccup's down and beaten. The dirty towel, used to wipe his mouth during the day, can be taken care of later.

But what Viggo doesn't realize is that Hiccup isn't a fast learner when it comes to things like this.

He doesn't throw up again, but it takes him a week to get better, which is nearly a week of lying in bed and recovering from whatever's been fed to him. Just sleeping and drinking and eating the few light meals his stomach can handle at that time.

But once he's there, when Viggo deems him healthy enough to try and force his tongue down his throat again, Hiccup still doesn't stand for it and shows his dismay by fighting back in any way he can.

So he's sick for a second week after his disobedience. Once he's recovered from that, a third week follows. Viggo quickly realizes he has to switch to a new tactic.

Because eventually those injuries heal and that means he can be a little meaner to Hiccup.

There is something Viggo wants from him and he's adamant about getting it.

Besides, with those ribs better now all that food, when not poisoned, is only good for one thing and that is all that extra energy that Viggo deems unessential.

So he cuts Hiccup off. When Hiccup rejects Viggo's hugely inappropriate advances once again, he's denied food for the rest of the day. The first time, he only misses dinner, so that means he's quite hungry by the time breakfast arrives.

But Hiccup automatically denies that meal, too, having learned from the three times he's been made terribly ill through poisoned food to be wary of breakfast.

Lunch comes and Hiccup accepts that meal, but it comes at the price of more of the older man's forceful affection, which he'd strongly rejected once again. At dinner he stays away, breakfast Hiccup misses on purpose, lunch is spoiled by Viggo trying to kiss him and pin him to the bed. It becomes a cycle, with lunch becoming the sole source of his food.

The three weeks of illness has severely weakened him, but by the day he grows even weaker, only given enough to not get him in trouble. That makes it so much harder for him to fight back and Viggo doesn't care if he loses a couple of pounds in the process. And with no injuries getting in the way, Viggo can afford to be a little rough.

If anything, it's fun to see how long Hiccup can keep this up. Everybody has a breaking point and his doesn't seem so easily reached.

"No, please, don't! Stop! Viggo, you're such a piece of shit, stop!" He would shout, he would push, he would kick, but his attempts weaken as his body does.

So naturally, the night comes when Hiccup can no longer fight back and he's run out of energy to do much of anything. By the time he's just shy of being nothing by skin and bones, he's tried everything he can think of to keep Viggo from stealing from him. The younger Grimborn even sports a deeply blue bitemark at some point, to which Ryker's only amused response is; "So he's kinky."

But while his attempts work to deter him for another night, it's not enough in the long run and the lack of strength has put a full stop to his escape plan, too.

Reserves empty, all out of tricks, too run-down to even sass, black and bruised all over, Hiccup eventually can't stop Viggo from taking what he's been after since the first day they met.

He forced himself onto him, raped him, and it's a first time he could've done without.

"Now was that really so hard?" Viggo asks him afterward in a mocking tone as he dresses, leaving Hiccup to curl up and hug himself. There is no comfort afterward and it's on purpose. Viggo doesn't even stay, making Hiccup wallow in the shame all alone.

That night he cries for his parents, pleading with them to come get him. He hasn't cried for them since a dragon attacked him and he had to be flown to the nearest hospital. But being pinned down and raped will certainly do the trick.

During his stay, Hiccup will have a hard time admitting it even to himself that it happened. The mere thought, while the memories are always there, is always cut short.

The next morning is his first breakfast in much too long and Hiccup cannot reject it, despite his fear. It's like a reward for losing.

No matter how awful accepting it makes him feel, he can't refuse. Viggo sits down on the bed next to him as he eats, much too close, his hand on his thigh, and it makes Hiccup sicker to his stomach than being poisoned made him feel. But he couldn't reject the food, couldn't ask Viggo to leave, because his body despairs for that food.

And then afterward, there is a new cycle, a new game. It's one of choice, if you will. Either Hiccup gives in or he starves. Wanting to live and make it out above else, he chooses the former.

That is how his three months in the darkness of the basement went.

In a way, anything after that is child's play compared to what he suffered downstairs. Perhaps, the time spend in the Grimborn home afterward, is time he spends gathering up the pieces of his shattered spirit to put back together again one by one until the holiday trip that leads to his freedom.

It's a shoddy job in the end, but he survives.

Viggo comes to get him on the anniversary of the third month of his abduction with more presentable clothes for him to wear. Something other than the hoodie, shirt, and jeans he'd been taken in, which were dirty and smelly by now.

There's a broken and dull look to Hiccup when Viggo tells him to wash up and dress in them. He quite likes the sight of it. He's fond, even.

The clothes don't fit, appearing to be too large on him. But is that really surprising when the sizes are based on a time before all that weight loss?

When dressed, Hiccup stands before Viggo, staring down at the first decent clothes he's had in much too long, the first clean clothes. They're not his, they're not even the kind of clothes he would wear during formal events. They're so ill-fitting they look almost ridiculous on him, too. That is, he would look ridiculous if the sight of him didn't spark the more natural reaction of; "Oh my God, get this man a doctor."

Viggo is fruitlessly straightening out his clothes that don't fit, but he doesn't seem to mind. Once they're about as neat as he can get them, he cups a hollowed-out cheek and brings Hiccup's face up to have their eyes meet. The entire time, Hiccup has his gaze downcast.

"I want you to know how proud I am of you, my Dear. You've learned your place." Viggo tells him, staring into eyes that are rather empty with a satisfied glint in his own.

When he draws his hand back, Hiccup's gaze is soon downcast again.

Stepping away from him, Viggo motions towards the door, the same one that's been locked for three full months, even whenever Grimborn was down here.

"This is a special day." Hiccup is told.

"You've earned this." He's told.

And now, Viggo wants him to take the stairs up.

The door is opened to him and Hiccup lifts his eyes up. He can see the stairs, can see more of it as it opens wider. There is the soft throbbing of longing in his heart, of excitement.

Is this really it? Is he finally going up there and leaving the basement?

The stairs revealed, Viggo puts a hand on his lower back to gently push him towards it. The steps are wooden, they're filthy, but they're the best stairs he's ever seen.

But even better is that the door on the other side at the top isn't just unlocked, it's open and Hiccup can see light coming in. Natural light! His eyes aren't used to that much anymore and it is blinding, but he refuses to look away and squints.

But it's open, he really is leaving.

The tears he wants to cry then are of joy. There's a spark inside of him that Viggo will come to regret.

He's survived and, in the end, he fights back.

He's not broken.

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 4

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

Adrien stood in front of the Gabriel building with a cup of coffee and a bag of freshly-baked goods in his hands at five in the morning, ready to deal with whatever the company’s directors entrusted him with before he was due at his teaching job. This was a terrible idea from the start but, as experience had already shown him, it was a much better choice to tackle the unknown and confusing tasks early in the day, rather than after handling a few classes filled with teenagers. So, filled with determination, Adrien opened the front door and stepped inside. The faster he got to his office, the sooner he’d be free to torture his students with a test on the dynamics of spinning tops before mercifully shifting the lesson into quantum physics territory.

Adrien greeted the security guards and swiftly ran up the stairs to the designers’ floor. Having almost reached his office at the end of the hallway, he paused, noticing a light coming from under one of the doors. Someone must have forgotten to turn it off before leaving the office yesterday. People here did tend to overwork. That someone was probably too tired to remember flicking the switch off and would most likely be scolded for that by their manager in a few hours. Without a second thought, Adrien headed for the door. He was already here; he could make someone’s day better by fixing their mistake before it was noticed. He didn’t expect to see anyone in the room, let alone a half-asleep Marinette who looked like she had just survived an apocalypse. Her name involuntarily escaped his lips. The look she gave him was unsettling.

“It’s five a.m.” Adrien braved. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Working. Can’t you tell?” Marinette answered, returning her attention to the garment in front of her.

He brushed away the thought of intervening and sending Marinette home to rest as soon as it sprung into his mind. If their previous encounters had taught him anything, it was that Marinette didn’t want his help. And frankly, no matter his intentions to help her, Adrien wasn’t and didn’t plan on becoming Marinette’s babysitter any time soon. He did secretly plan to find her a new job, but that would be it. She was a grown woman. Surely, she would go home when she’d had enough.

Still, looking at her, something tightened in his chest. Adrien glanced at the food in his hands and carefully walked into the room, placing his untouched cup of coffee along with his box of pastries in front of the exhausted woman. Marinette looked at him silently, nothing but malice lurking in her eyes; eyes that were once so kind to him.

“I think you need these more than I do,” he mumbled, half-expecting to hear ‘I don’t need anything from you’ in return. Strangely enough, Marinette said nothing. Not wanting to take his chances, Adrien silently walked out and closed the door behind him.

The following week, Adrien spotted Marinette a few times in the company’s hallways and by the looks of it, she felt none better, if not worse. Just yesterday, for example, he saw her leaning on the vending machine looking rather faint as she waited for a granola bar to fall out. All his attempts to start a conversation to get to the bottom of her exhaustion or to suggest she get some rest were either ignored or aggressively but politely shut down.

However, even more than Marinette’s less than stellar condition, it was a text message Adrien received that day that genuinely shocked him. He almost choked on air and dropped his cell phone when a name he’d never expected to see again popped up on his screen.

Nino: Adrien, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, and I wouldn't blame you if you delete this and never reply, but I think an apology is long overdue. For whatever it's worth, Alya and I regret and apologize for not believing you all those years back. We've learned the hard way that you were right about what working for your father would do to Marinette, so we thought you at least deserve an apology, however late it is. I do realize there's no way to fix anything now, but I hope this would make it at least a little better.

Adrien would have been lying if he said he didn't want to delete the text immediately and forget it ever existed, but the events of the last week kept his cellphone screen lit, his thumb hovering over the virtual keyboard for quite some time yet never making contact. Soon, Adrien closed the app and pushed his cell phone to the side, only to pick it up five minutes later and reread the message. He shoved his phone into his bag. Five minutes later, Adrien was reading the cursed text again. An hour after that, he still couldn't let it go, neither reply nor ignore.

Damn it.

First of all, how did Nino get his new number? Second, why would he text him all of a sudden? There had to be a reason, one serious enough to force Nino to contact Adrien after years of silence. His former best friend didn't so much as send him condolences when his father passed away. Not that it mattered much because Adrien was neither on speaking terms with his father nor was he even able to attend the funeral himself. Instead, he had been stuck at the emergency room with an especially nasty case of food poisoning, wishing he’d stuck with his usual takeout instead of thinking he could cook for himself. Still, what prompted Nino to reach out now? What did he want? What happened and what did Adrien have to do with it?

The young man groaned, dropping his head on a table. He needed to focus on his work instead of trying to pinpoint the underlying reason of why exactly his former best friend suddenly felt the need to message him an apology. Because one thing was clear—this wasn’t just a random call of conscience, and as far he could surmise, it had everything to do with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Hey, kid.”

Too engrossed in his mental turmoil, Adrien didn’t even look at his little companion flying close. “What?”

“Want a snack?” Plagg plopped in front of him on the table. “Food makes everything better, and you look a bit too sour for my liking.”

Adrien didn't answer, watching the soft glow of the screen. Despite his better judgement, he was concerned about Marinette. That much he couldn't deny because the present state of that woman was neither normal nor healthy by any stretch of the imagination. They might not be friends anymore, but as a fellow human being, Adrien couldn’t help but be concerned. As the CEO of Gabriel, he couldn’t afford to have one of his employees kick the bucket due to overworking.

“I guess a snack it is, then,” sounded nearby, but Adrien was too distracted to pay attention. What if Marinette was in some kind of trouble dangerous enough for Nino to step over his pride and contact him? What was going on, and why the hell did he still care for what was happening to her? Why did he want to reply to that message? Why were memories of the four of them hanging out together back in the day flashing through his mind all of a sudden? Why hadn’t Adrien deleted the message yet? The message from a former best friend who had betrayed him when he needed him the most?

“Open wide,” Plagg shouted in his ear.

Adrien jerked up. “Pla—”

Something soft and smelly was unceremoniously shoved into his mouth.

“There.” Plagg rubbed his paws together. “You’ll feel better in no time, kid.”

Tears pooled in his eyes as the unmistakable taste and smell of Camembert attacked his every sense. Finding the nearest trash bin, Adrien spat the grossness out and glared at his kwami. “What’s wrong with you?! You know I hate your cheese.”

“What’s the matter?” Plagg grinned. “You look more alive already. Told ya you’d feel better!”

Adrien growled and flipped his phone screen down, dropping his head on the table and covering it with his hands.

A weak knock on the door a moment later forced him to sit back up.

“Come in,” Adrien called and stood up to greet the visitor.

A petite girl stepped into the room. She looked familiar, though he wasn’t sure how he knew her.

“M Agreste?” she asked shyly, walking to his table with a sheet of paper in her hands. “I am really sorry to bother you so late, but I wanted to give you this today.”

She put the paper on the table, and Adrien immediately knew what it was.

“You’re quitting?”

“I really am sorry, M Agreste,” the girl mumbled. “But I received a proposition from a different company, and given the circumstances, I’m inclined to accept it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Adrien smiled at her. “A new job is nothing to apologize for, especially with how things are currently going here. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, M Agreste.”

“Where were you working?” Adrien asked, curious as to where he remembered her from.

“I was Mlle Dupain-Cheng’s assistant,” the girl replied.

“Oh,” slipped from his lips as Adrien remembered. He had seen her trailing behind Marinette a few times, but always too focused on the physical ruin of the first, he barely noticed the other.

“Does she know you’re leaving?” he asked absentmindedly.

“No.”

Adrien frowned. “You didn’t inform your direct supervisor you were quitting?”

“Please, don't judge me,” the girl replied quietly, shying away with every word. “Not to be ungrateful or mean to Mlle Dupain-Cheng, but I was afraid to tell her. She isn't herself these days. She's more stressed and exhausted than ever, and me quitting would be a cherry on the top of her already huge pile. But, please, M Agerste, try to understand… I can't continue like this. It was either quitting or going insane alongside Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien froze. ‘Going insane’ was a strong choice of words, but unsurprisingly, he couldn’t find it within himself to disagree or object to that statement. Marinette did look the part these days… maybe not ‘going insane’ mentally, but ‘going insane’ with exhaustion and overworking, for sure. Was Marinette even sleeping? She definitely ate. He saw her grabbing that granola bar a day prior, so she must be eating at least something—

“I’ll go now,” the girl said, intruding in his thought process.

“Wait—” Adrien reached out, but stopped halfway. He promptly pulled his hand back and rubbed the back of his neck. Quickly glancing at the paper, he asked, “Mlle Ardoin, right? Do you know what happened? I mean, what pushed Mlle Dupain-Cheng to such extremes?”

The girl shook her head. Her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment or two before she visibly gathered some courage and looked straight at him. “Can I tell you something in confidence?”

Adrien nodded.

“I suspect…” Mlle Ardoin paused, breathed in and then continued. “I know it sounds crazy, but I suspect that Mlle Dupain-Cheng doesn’t leave work at all.”

Adrien couldn’t help but frown in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“She’s always here,” the girl replied, clenching her hands together as she looked to the side. “I usually arrive before anyone else does, but Mlle Dupain-Cheng is already working. When we leave, she’s always staying behind to finish something. Last week she wore the same outfit for three days in a row, and then another one for the rest of the week. She’s never done that before. Her hair isn't styled as usual either; she just ties it in a sloppy ponytail which, again, she’s never done before. Mlle Dupain-Cheng used to always look impeccable. Now, she’s a mess. Last Thursday, I noticed a small bag with personal hygiene essentials, makeup, and some clothes. There’s also a small suitcase standing in the corner, behind one of the shelves. And judging by the sheer amount of work she manages to do when she stays behind, I can assume she stays up at least half the night, which leaves little time to go home, sleep, and come back before everyone else does.”

Adrien’s frown deepened with every word as he processed the information. It wasn’t hard enough evidence, but still suspicious. “I’ll look into it, Mlle Ardoin. Thank you for informing me.”

“Please, don’t tell her I said anything, M Agreste,” the girl pleaded. “I only told you because Mlle Dupain-Cheng was such an amazing person when we first started working together, always a hard worker and more talented than any of us. That’s why your father noticed her and let her develop her own line. But what’s going on with her now isn't normal. It hurts me to see her like this. Please, M Agreste, if you can help her, do so. She deserves it.”

It took him a few moments to respond, his mind gripped by worry. “Thank you again for letting me know, Mlle Ardoin. I’ll see if there is anything I can do.”

Before leaving, the girl said a few more things Adrien didn’t pay much attention to as his thoughts raced back to Marinette. From everything he had witnessed in this last week, one thing was clear—Marinette had become like his father. That cold, dismissive, and hostile way she was treating him… Adrien shivered. Did he really want to get involved with that kind of destructive attitude again? When he was a child, he didn’t have a choice but to tolerate his father’s treatment. Now, Adrien had options. He could ignore this annoying feeling that told him to help Marinette and let her be if that was the way she wanted to exist.

So, why? Why did he still want to help her? She'd thrown him away without so much as a chance to explain. He shouldn't care. Why did he?

Adrien swore under his breath and sat down. Thoughts ran wildly inside his mind as he debated what he could lose this time if he did decide to get involved despite everything.

Friends? He had no one close to him right now. A couple of acquaintances, but no real friends. Burned once, Adrien had never fully opened his heart for anyone else. Work? He almost laughed. There was no way he’d lose his teaching career because of Marinette. She had nothing to do with it. He doubted she even knew he was a teacher, much less which high school he worked at. His ‘leading the fashion empire’ gig? He wouldn’t mind losing that at all. It was a test run, anyway. Family? He had none. Money? He had more than enough. Love? He trusted Ladybug. He trusted that she knew him better than to question his intentions and character should anything go awry.

“More snacks?” Plagg’s voice dripped with mockery and arrogance.

With a groan, Adrien closed his eyes and dropped his head on his desk for the umpteenth time. He should probably stop doing that or he risked getting a bruise on his forehead. Adrien grumbled incoherently, his sight landing on an untouched pile of papers. He should do some work and forget for a few moments about former friends in need who wanted neither his help nor him anywhere close to them.

“So, your Princess is even more troublesome than you thought?” Plagg snarled nearby.

“She’s not my Princess.” Adrien snapped.

“She used to be.” Plagg shrugged.

Adrien closed his eyes. That old nickname he had for Marinette held so many memories within it—memories of good times when they didn't have to think about important stuff and could just have fun. He missed those times so much. Beneath all his resentment, Adrien had to admit that he did miss his friends, and only now was he starting to realize just how much. Why did everything have to change? Why did they have to change? Why did he have to mess up so badly? Even being Chat Noir was more fun back then. Adrien’s lips split in a bittersweet smile as he remembered how after patrols Chat Noir would sometimes sneak onto Marinette’s balcony for a croissant or two. They used to be friends—

Adrien jolted up. Wait a minute!

“Uh-uh!” Plagg whistled.

Adrien stared blankly in front of himself. Chat Noir and Marinette used to be friends, but she didn't know his civilian identity. Chat Noir had stopped going over to Marinette's after Adrien's fiasco, but he'd never explained the reason to her. For all she knew, he could've moved away or gotten too busy for visits.

A mischievous grin sneaked onto Adrien’s lips—something that hadn't happened in a long while. He had a plan.

Plagg narrowed his eyes at his wielder. “You look like you’re about to do something really stupid, kid.”

“You might be right, for once,” Adrien replied with renewed fire in his voice because he might have just found a way to help Marinette without her knowing anything about his involvement. At first, Adrien had thought he could find her another job and be done with it, but if anything, the last week had shown him how impossible that was without Marinette on board. Talking to her about it was out of the question, seeing as she had dismissed him every time he had as little as simply approached her. He had to come up with an alternative, and this might just be it.

This time, however, Adrien wouldn’t repeat his past mistakes. He wouldn’t rush into anything without gathering all the information on Marinette and her current situation first and then thinking everything through. Hesitantly, Adrien glanced at his cell phone. What would be the best way to start on this if not by talking to one of Marinette’s closest friends?  

“Kid, are you sure?” Plagg landed on his cell phone before Adrien could grab it. “Do you really want to poke that wasp nest again?”

“I can’t just sit back and watch her kill herself.” Adrien pulled his cell phone out from under his kwami. “Not when I can do something about it.”

“Even after everything she put you through?”

“I’m not exactly all that innocent myself.”

Plagg silently watched Adrien for a few moments before scoffing. “Fine. Do what you want. Just don’t come crying to me when she wrecks you again.”

“Don’t worry. That won’t happen. I’m not planning on getting anywhere near that close.”

“Yeah, like you can help yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Kid, you always give anything you do your whole self, and this won’t be an exception. You will end up with a broken heart again. Mark my words.”

Adrien sighed. “Thank you for caring, Plagg, but I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll remain as impartial as possible. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll buy a bucket of ice cream and deal with any broken hearts myself. If they even happen, which I highly doubt.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Plagg grumbled and flew away.

Adrien started typing.

Adrien: Even if it’s awfully late, an apology is always appreciated.

Adrien: I do wonder, though, what brought this on all of a sudden?

Nino’s reply was almost immediate.

Nino: I can explain everything in an essay under one thousand words over the text, or I could tell you everything face to face over lunch. Would it be too much too soon?

Yes, it would be, but if Nino wanted to meet after years of hostility, it might be more serious than Adrien thought.

Adrien: I've lived through worse. I can handle lunch.

A few minutes later, a lunch date with a former friend was secured. Adrien glanced at his watch. His eyes widened. Eleven in the evening? How didn’t he notice the time? Then… It might just be the perfect time for what he wanted to do. Abruptly, Adrien stood, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Kid? What’s—”

“Plagg, claws out!”

He leapt out the window and looked around. Sure enough, apart from his, there was only one other window lit, and he suspected he knew exactly who was in that room. Quietly, Chat Noir got closer and peeked in. Marinette was standing with her back to the window, working on a dress hanging on a mannequin. Little by little Chat climbed in as quietly as he could, and when his feet were safely grounded on the window sill, he produced the most seductive smile he could muster in this situation—he needed her to like him, or it was all for nothing—and purred.

“Long time no see, Princess.”

With a gasp, Marinette almost jumped in place; the scissors in her hands hit the floor with a crash as she jolted around, a look of fear and dismay on her face. His heart clenched. Dark circles under her eyes, a messy hairdo and a look of extreme fatigue on her face, Marinette looked like she was at the end of her physical limit. She even needed a moment to recognize him. When she did, her eyes widened, a smile brightening her face. She reached forward, parting her lips to say something, but before she could, her eyes fluttered closed and her body went limp, collapsing into the quick-reacting arms of Chat Noir.

Next >

[cherry-moonlight]

Life Could Be A Dream

{NOS4A2 - Charlie Manx x Reader}

{A/N - Also on AO3 under CherryMoonlight}  Hi! I have been obsessed with NOS4A2, and while I haven’t read the book yet (don’t judge me), the show is incredible. I haven’t written anything in a year or so, and I know I owe plenty of other stories, but this series came to me in a dream and I’m just so happy to be off hiatus and inspired again! That being said, this is a first person POV reader insert, and pretty much just not very canon but I’m having fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it should you choose to!  PS — I’m crushing hard on Charlie Manx so definitely expect some of that at some point. (I know, how dare I considering the whole virgin thing- but really, how could I not?!)

Warnings: Abusive parents (verbal, physical, emotional), alcoholism, drug use.

Chapter One - Long Overdue

Snowflakes fell like ashes from the sky as I walked forward down a snowy road I’d seen many times before. Despite the chill in the air, my skin didn’t react to the bitter coldness. I wasn’t bothered by the gentle wind or the glistening ice. It was as though the cold could touch me, but I couldn’t feel it.

Deep green pine trees doused with pure white lined the road as far as the eye could see in every direction but up and down. My eyes searched for something— anything, that could tell me what was happening; why I kept being brought to this particular place. There had to be some kind of sign.. Some kind of message I was to receive. Everything had a reason in my mind, bad or good, and this dream was no exception.

Much further down the road, there were glittering lights that danced in a blurred haze on the horizon. But no matter how far or how long I walked, they never grew closer.

“{Y/N}!” I heard what sounded like a small child’s excited whisper, as though they were taunting me, rather than calling out to me.

This is new..

I turned around immediately, looking for the source of the disembodied voice as a slight pang of panic rose in my chest. Though I wasn’t sure what was happening, the fear began to manifest anyway, giving me some kind of indication that this might become a nightmare.

A faint giggle echoed from the other direction, and I turned to face it, too. With a shake of my head and a moment to steady my breathing, I reminded myself that I was in control..

Or was I?

I picked up the pace to a brisk walk, not wanting to will myself awake just yet. The lights ahead of me stayed exactly where they were, but the sweet scent of peppermint mixing with pine began to fill my nostrils. It was pleasant, almost addicting right from the first whiff.

Still, I lowered my eyes to the ground, almost afraid of what I might see if I looked around so carelessly.

Another reverberated giggle filled the air, but this time it was accompanied by my name again. When I looked up from the white ground beneath my feet, I saw a small figure dash across the road. Just beyond that, the lights in the distance began to grow clearer before me.

“I can see..” I mumbled under my breath a bit too happily as I began to run, not wanting to miss the opportunity to finally find out what was beyond the long road.

My hair whipped around my face, and I knew if I could feel the air around me, it would’ve stung my skin. My breath formed small white clouds around my mouth as I continued, and just when I thought I could make out what lay in front of me, I was grabbed by small hands from behind, the excruciating pain of a sharp bite digging into the back of my shoulder, until—

I jolted awake, sitting upright as my {E/C} eyes pried themselves open to absorb where I actually was. Everything felt foggy, and as I clutched the shirt I wore with a trembling hand, I tried my best to ground myself.

A record I had on a turntable spun in what seemed like endless circles at the end of the track list and everything was quiet, save for the static. Looking out towards the frosty window, the ice climbing around the edges like spiderwebs offered me a sense of comfort. The world was cold, but inside, everything was warm and cozy. I was safe, and this was only a dream I’d been having for years— even if a few things had suddenly changed.

I stood up, working on slowing my breathing as I lifted the needle from the record and set it in its place, turning the player off. My mind roamed back to the dream I’d just had. It was strange that out of all the time it plagued my sleep, something had finally been different. It felt stranger than usual as I mulled over the way I heard children and saw the lights come a bit more into focus this time. There was something about it that I couldn’t quite place. It reminded me of the holidays— my favorite time of year despite the way I grew up. Christmas was my favorite holiday, always allowing me to get lost in everyone else’s joy and excitement. Watching heartwarming films and seeing the way the community came together to decorate their homes.. It reminded me of what being a child should’ve felt like, even though there was never any indication that Christmas even existed in my house. For as long as I could remember, not a tree, nor a present ever graced my December’s.

As I moved to the vanity to fix my appearance, I came to the conclusion that I was just excited for Christmas’s arrival, and my dream was a reflection of that. This year, I wanted to buy a small tree for my room and decorate it the way I wanted. I was an adult now, and no one could tell me any different.

“{Y/N}!” I heard my mother scream from downstairs, eliciting an automatic eye roll from me. “Come down here, now!”

With a huff, I did as I was told, despite being eighteen, I still lived under her roof and had to abide by her insane rules.

My mother and I never quite got along. As a child, she consoled herself with prescription pills and alcohol, and I never really had a father. My older brother split with him the moment he walked out of the door when I was seven, which is when my only recollection of Christmas’s ended, leaving them like a far too distant memory to me.

My dad never bothered to take me with him, or even call me afterwards. Neither did my brother. I didn’t know what I did wrong, but as time moved on, I realized they’d simply abandoned me with her. I supposed that they assumed I’d end up the same way. Not able to blame them, I never bothered to reach out, either. I had my dad’s number, I stole it from a sticky note my mom had gotten from one of their mutual friends. But if they wanted to contact me, they would. Sometimes, when my mom had locked me in the closet for “being too happy,” or hit me for answering a question in a way she didn’t like, I really wished they would’ve.

Since then, I’ve had to learn to take care of myself. When she was passed out on the floor for what felt like days on end, I was in charge of things like food and getting myself to school. The microwave was my best friend early on, and unlike most other kids, I was glad I had school to escape to.

I’d never quite forgiven her for ruining my childhood. Sometimes, I’d see the other kids getting picked up by their parents; the care in their eyes, the love in their hearts. It was all very comforting to watch. I cried myself to sleep countless nights wondering why I couldn’t have parents who cared for me the same way.

When my mother was awake, it was constant belittling and berating. Being so young, I had no idea I could be such a mistake and a screw up so soon, if at all. But there was dear old mom, ready to remind me at a moment's notice. Something as simple as dropping a pencil on the floor earned me an ear full of being a klutz and completely worthless to the world. If I even looked at her in a way she didn’t like, I felt her wrath.

But as time went on, she gradually got worse. She built up more of a tolerance to whatever she was taking, making her perfectly functional to the rest of society, but twice as abusive to me. No matter how old I got, I remained the punching bag. I’d thought she took out the anger of losing my father and brother on me, but later I couldn’t help but think it felt like she just liked hurting me.

Before I exited my room, I looked at a small cedar chest with a heart shaped lock that sat atop my dresser. It was my saving grace these days, the only thing that kept me sane. It held money I’d been putting away to get my own place, and a few other things that were important to me, like the note with my dad’s number and a small locket I had been gifted as a child.

Soon. Soon I’d never have to hear her voice or see her face again.

My feet shuffled to the bottom of the stairs and I inhaled and counted to four, then exhaled and counted to four; a small tactic that I used to deal with her. Turning the corner into the kitchen, I saw her sitting at the wooden table, glass of whatever the day's poison was in hand, waiting for me with a crisp white sheet of paper in front of her.

“What is this?” she questioned, the annoyance thick in her voice already.

I peeked over her shoulder. It was paperwork from a therapy session a friend let me take from her almost a year ago. I hadn’t wanted to do it, but she insisted once I explained just a portion of my life to her.

“You went through my things?” Was all I could manage.

I was bubbling with anger, but trying my best not to fly off the handle.

She wasn’t worth it, I reminded myself.

“You went to therapy? After all I’ve done for you, you felt like you needed… Help?”

She spat the word “help” out as though it were venom on the tongue. I was still processing the fact that she felt as though she’d raised me well, or really even at all. How dare she think she was there for me at all.

“Well? Answer me, {Y/N}!”

Lost for words, I stammered a bit, unsure of what to say. The last thing I felt like doing was fighting with her, and in that moment, I had no idea where to begin to tell her off.

“I— Just.. There’s—“

“I know you’ve always been a little slow,” she snorted. “But you can’t even answer a question these days..”

“That’s it! I’m sick of you! How dare you—” I snapped, but before I even had time to finish another thought, she was up from the chair and her hand had roughly connected with my cheek.

Stunned from the stinging sensation, I stared at her blankly. Though it used to be a daily occurrence, it had been a long time since she’d hit me, and the act only dredged up memories that I thought I’d gotten over. I shook my head, and without another word, I went upstairs, slipped into my favorite combat boots, grabbed a jacket and my bag and placed my cedar chest in it before making my way to the front door in a rushed cloud of hurt and anger.

“If you walk out of this house, you’re not coming back! I’ll leave your shit on the curb and I’ll never see your ungrateful ass again!” she called out, her voice hoarse with crazed, manic emotion.

“I wouldn’t come back if this were the last place on earth,” was all I said, opening the door to leave.

I heard the rattling of a pill bottle being frantically emptied and breathed a quiet laugh of disbelief before slamming the door shut. There was no care to be had in my mind or heart anymore. Maybe it was wrong, but I had taken too much from that woman. I was done sticking around and pretending to care in the hopes that she’d change one day.

Looking out ahead of me for a moment, I slid into my jacket and slung my bag over my shoulder. Closing the door with the intention of never looking back should’ve been the best day of my life. Instead, I felt anxious beyond belief.

Leaving with no plan as to where I was going wasn’t how I wanted to end things. I’d managed to stick around for eighteen years, and almost felt silly for letting this small encounter become the straw that broke the camel's back.

At the same time, eighteen years is a long time to go on the way I did. It was overdue.

As I walked into the snow, I realized how alone I truly was. No parents, no siblings. No family. I couldn’t burden my friends to deal with the mess my life had become. I lived in what could be considered the middle of nowhere. It was freezing and I had nowhere to go. I raised myself for so long, I didn’t know if I was actually expecting to be able to take care of myself in a situation like this or not, should it happen. But as I reached the end of my driveway and looked down the road, I was reminded of my recurring dream. It looked the same— the trees and the glistening snow atop them. The only thing missing was the dazzling lights at the end of the stretch. How I never put it together that this scenery was near identical before, I wasn’t sure.

It was then that I wondered if this is what my dream had been trying to tell me all along..

That I’d be walking a cold, lonely road to nowhere.

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Good Luck Kisses - Supercorp

Read at AO3

I.

"You know, if you give it a try, you might like it."

"Lena, I will never understand why you want to kill me so much. I thought you liked me." Kara sighed heavily, barely able to hide her smile as she used her chopstick to grab another cinnamon roll.

Lena rolled her eyes, but didn't miss the teasing tone her friend was using. "Kale is not going to kill you, Kara." To make a point, she picked a kale with her fork and aimed it to Kara's face, but the blonde quickly leaned back so she couldn't touch her with it.

With a smug grin, Lena brought it back to herself, flawlessly putting it into her mouth to chew. Kara scoffed like it was the most offensive thing that had ever happened to her. "I resent that." She said. "And who knows? It might! It's green! Green stuff isn't good for me."

Lena covered her mouth to laugh at the absurd. "Oh, so now all green things are bad for you?"

This time Kara couldn't hold back her smile. "There's only one way to find out, but I'm not willing to try." She shrugged and grabbed another roll.

"You're ridiculous." The CEO teased with a grin. "That's your last chance, I'm almost done."

Kara actually grimaced this time when Lena pointed to her own salad. "Stop trying to poison me, woman."

Lena laughed as she took the last bite of her favorite salad, before putting the empty plastic tray on her coffee table. "Thank you for lunch."

"Yes, well, leave it for me to risk my own safety to bring you food." Kara joked and also put her empty plate down to join the other four that belonged to her.

The CEO smiled as she reached to squeeze her friend's hand. "My brave hero." There was a wink after that and Kara lost track of her thoughts for a second.

She was waiting for that moment since she called Lena asking her if she had already ate. The moment where Lena would do something, or say something, and that would make Kara's brain have a breakdown and she would just be left there staring at Lena like a fool. It was way more common than she would like to admit, especially because her brain could never come up with something normal to say afterwards - "I flew here on a bus" is just one example.

Her mind had already set to say "I wasn't wearing my cape, it's in the washing machine" when her phone ranged. She grabbed it so fast from her pocket that she doubted Lena was even capable of seeing her move, but that was her life boat and she needed it. It was a text from Alex and she sighed once she was done reading.

"Looks like they might need my help." Kara informed her companion with a frown. As much as she was glad to have a distraction that stoped herself from saying something stupid again, she wasn't happy about leaving Lena.

The brunette raised one eyebrow and, for a second, Kara thought she was also sad to have her leave. "Anything I might help?" Since finding out about Kara being Supergirl, and after the three weird weeks where she refused to speak with her friend because she was hurt, Lena had being requested a handful of times to help at some urgent subject at the DEO. She found out she made a great team with Brainy, and Alex and her were quite good too.

Already getting up, Kara smiled down at her. "Well, unless you can catch a jet with your hands, I don't think so."

Lena didn't know if she was joking or not, especially because her friend used that amused tone that didn't help at all, so she also got up with a deep concerned frown. "Sounds a little dangerous."

Kara shrugged, because of course she would act like it was nothing. "Less dangerous than eating kale."

And with that joke Lena knew she would be ok. The CEO rolled her eyes and started collecting their empty lunch trays and put them in the garbage can. "Stop insulting my food and get out of here."

Kara laughed happily, the laugh that made her all warm inside and made her day all better. "Sure thing, Ms. Luthor."

The blonde turned on her heels, heading for her balcony where she would probably just fly from, but a nib of fear made her heart skip a beat and she reached out for Kara's hand. She knew the hero could have just kept walking, that she wouldn't be able to stop her really, but Kara turned around back to look at her, looking a little concerned but still giving her that five thousand megawatts smile.

"Just..." Lena interrupted herself to swallon down the heavy lump in her throat. "Just, you know, be careful." That was the first time Kara had to get out in the middle of a conversation with her to go save the world again and it was one of the scariest experiences Lena ever had to go through.

Kara's smile became soft and she turned her palm up so she could squeeze Lena's hand in a reasuring way. "I will be fine, I swear."

Lena took a big intake of breath and nodded, trying to calm her own heart and tell herself that Kara was right. But then, in the back of her mind, flashes of Kara being beaten up almost to death by Reign popped up and she clenched her jaws to try and get a hold of her feelings. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream. It was hard when she thought it was Supergirl, but now that she knew it was also Kara, her Kara, it made things infinite times worse.

"Hey, it's ok." Kara could hear Lena's heart starting to increase it's raid and the slight tremble of her bottom lip, so she let go of her hand to be able to pull her friend into a tigh hug. She rested her chin on top of Lena's head as the woman hid her face on her neck, and closed her eyes. She ignored her phone ringing again. She knew it was Alex asking her what was taking so long.

"I know, you're a badass." Lena whispered into her neck, making her chuckle. "Sorry."

"No need to be sorry." Kara promised as she let Lena go from her arms. Suddenly she felt cold and lonely, but she couldn't stay there for much longer, despite her own wishes to hug Lena until the world was about to end and then for a little longer. "I will be back for dinner, how does that sound?"

Lena, displaying a small smile, nodded. "I will buy pizza."

"Sweet!" The blonde celebrated with a little punch in the air and that was the last thing Lena needed to relax.

She laughed and let her shoulders lose some of the tension that the fear had caused. "You're silly." Without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed her lips on Kara's cheek, staying there for a second too long for someone who kept telling herself she didn't had feelings for her best friend. "For good luck." Lena knew she was as red as Supergirl's cape right now, so she needed to hide and fast. "Now, go, go! Go save the day, Supergirl."

Kara had the largest dopey smile anyone had ever saw when she nodded distractively. "Will do."

When she flew away, not even walking out before doing so, Lena closed her eyes and dropped her head in her hands. "For fucks sake, Luthor." She mumbled angrily at herself.

II.

At first, all she could see was the blue sky. It was a beautiful day, sunny, with random clouds here and there, some birda flying and a light breeze. She spoted a cloud that kind of looked like a turtle before her body started to swirl and she lost sight of it. She saw a building with large windows, the top of the lasgest trees and someone's shoe in the eletrical wiring at the lamppost. Lena barely had time to think about that last thing before her body kept swirling and she was now facing down. From that new angle she could see the cars, the smallest trees, the pavement, the people, some looking up at her and some who still had no idea that Lena Luthor had just be pushed of her balcony. Again.

She couldn't blame her mother this time. Thieves, searching for her money. She just happened to get home earlier than they thought. Ironic how they would never be able to get any money without her there to unlock the safe with her fingerprints. Men are stupid, she thought not for the first time in her life.

Right before she saw the blurr of blue and red, Lena considered that she should be a little more scared than she was that she was falling to her death. But she was screaming. Was she screaming?

Her body didn't come to a full stop suddenly, for which she was thankful for because she knew about physics and it wouldn't have turned out good for her, but instead her fall started to slow down considerably. The floor wasn't approaching so fast anymore and the wind around her wasn't deafening. Lena started to see other things as her body was turned to a standing position and she soon saw Kara's smiley face. Well, Supergirl's.

"You know, if you're doing an habit of jumping from very high things, you must start considering learning how to fly." She teased.

Lena, circling her arms on the superhero's neck, rolled her eyes. "And take all the fun away from you? Like I could ever be that cruel." Was her sarcastic answer back.

Despite her amusement, Kara frowned. "I'm happy I gave you that watch." She tapped the device with her index finger and it was a little weird to see her searching for it over her shoulder, but it was very alarming to see her letting go of her waist like that.

Thankfully, her other arm was still curled around Lena's waist and the CEO didn't even strumbled a little. Supergirl smiled again at her a second before they hit the ground. Looking around Lena realized she must have got lost in those bright blue eyes again, because they weren't in the middle of the street like she was expecting to be. She was glad, because the last thing she needed was to be surrounded by curious pedestrians. Instead, she recognized the back of her building as Kara opened the heavy metal door that lead inside for her.

"Do you mind waiting in the garage while I deal with it?" The blonde asked.

Lena thought it was very hard to not agree with everything the woman said when she was smiling to her like that. "Sure." She shrugged and took a step inside her building. "Oh."

Lena stoped suddenly, turned around and pressed a kiss on Kara's cheek. This time she was sure she wasn't the only one blushing. "For good luck?" The hero asked.

She nodded. "And for saving me. Now, go."

III.

Lena stormed inside the DEO's office like the devil was on her trails, interrupting whatever speech Alex was about to give and making everyone jump a little. Not Kara. Kara had heard her heartbeat getting closer and closer since she left her own office at L-Corp - so she kept track of her friend's heartbeat, so what? - and she was approaching the door before Lena could even swing it open.

They locked eyes and there was a solid tense minute where they didn't said or done anything beside look at each other's eyes. Finally, after someone cleared their throat behind Kara, Lena dropped her shoulders and pushed all air from her lungs before throwing herself into Kara. The hero was fast to catch her, of course, and she gladly circled her arms around Lena's torso as the brunette hugged her neck like she was about to fall from her balcony again.

Kara closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of having Lena hugging her like a long time lost lover and burried her nose in the raven curls. Lena always smelled like green apple, roses and expensive perfume, and Kara loved it.

In the other hand, Lena had also closed her eyes, but to stop her tears from falling. She was scared, she was so so afraid. Considering her own historic in life, there was many moments where she should have being that scared, but nothing was able to bring that emotion out of her like the possibility of Kara getting hurt. The CEO took a deeo breath to try and calm herself and was assaulted by the smell of cinammon, jasmine and fennel. How many times had she wished she could kept that particular smell in a bottle?

"Why do you have to make all of those dangerous stuff?" Her voice was muffled by Kara's neck, but the hero could hear her just fine.

Kara chuckled softly to not disturb the woman on her arms. "And let the fun to everybody else?" Lena sighed and squeezed her hard one last time before reluctantly letting her go. They didn't took a step away from each other, but Kara looked down to meet emerald eyes and smiled at her friend again. "Good luck kiss?" She asked trying to make it sound not like she was hopefull, but like a tease.

She knew she had failed at that, but Lena didn't said a thing as the corner of her lips curled up in one of her honest breathtaking smiles. The CEO cupped her face between her soft hands and raised herself on the tip of her toes to be able to reach her. Kara closed her eyes and dropped her head a bit to help her, and tried not to forget how to breathe when Lena's lips touched her forehead.

If she hopped Lena would kiss her like a lover? Sure, she had being dreaming about it for two years now. But the amount of emotions and care she felt in that simples gesture was enough for her. Lena cared, she was worried that Kara, or Supergirl, had to go to another dimension to help the Flash, and she would be waiting for her to get back. And Kara knew she would get back because she had just received her good luck kiss.

After seeing her best friend disapearing in some sort of portal, Lena sighed and turned to leave. She knew she wouldn't be able to get any work done until Kara was back, but she thought it was better to cry in the privacy of her own office. She catch Alex's eye before she opened the door and the intensity behind made her think about the blue ones she loved so much.

For a second, hand still in the door handle, Lena thought she was being measured and judged, but then she saw the unspoken words behind Alex's stare. "I know and it's ok." She lowered her eyes to the floor and left.

IV.

Kara had never looked so pale. She was laying down in that hospital bed, eyes closed, chest barely moving up and down, blonde hair dirty and greased, tubes and wires attached over her, looking small and weak.

Lena gasped for air the second she saw her friend like that. Her left hand flew to her stomach as the other one reached her mouth to muffle the anguished noise that threatened to escape. Alex, who was the one who walked her there and opened the door for her, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"She's going to be ok." The director promised in a whisper. "She blew her powers, but it happened before so we know how to deal with that. She just needs to rest and stay under the sun lamps."

Lena nodded, not trusting her own voice in the moment. Instead, she turned around to face Alex and took a deep breath. "Wha-" Her voice, as she expected, got stuck in the back of her throat.

Alex understood though. "A fight with an alien. He was strong and as stubborn as her. She just exausted herself to get him." She decided to leave the part where the said alien was trying to get to Lena and that's why Kara couldn't let him go.

Lena looked at the woman in front of her for a second. Alex had her head high and chest raised, looking like the powerful director she was, but deep down she was still a big sister who had to scave the rubble to save her barely alive little sister. There was a second of undertandment between them and Lena pulled the woman into a hug.

"Thank you for bringing her back." Lena said after Alex circled her arms around her too. "And for calling me and bringing me to see her."

Alex nodded as she pulled away, but she kept her hands on Lena's shoulders. "I know how much she means to you and how much you mean for her. She will be happy to see you when she wakes up." They turned to look at the sleeping blonde and Alex sighed. "For what is worth, you should tell her."

Before Lena could start freaking out, the door was open again and Maggie popped her head inside the room. "Is she breathing?"

"Yep." Alex answered.

"Good." Maggie reached for the director's hand and gave her a soft smile, looking a thousand times more relieved than before. "I know for a fact that you hadn't eat anything since the fight first started, so why don't we go have a late dinner? I'm sure she's in good hands." The detective winked at Lena and she found herself smiling.

"Ok, why not?" Alex sighed and allowed herself to be pulled away as Maggie opened the door all the way so she could get out. "Call me if anything happens, Lena."

It was two hours and fourteen minutes later that Kara finally woke up. Lena, who was watching her eagerly since she pulled a chair beside her bed, saw as her eyeslids started to tremble before she opened them. The hero blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to the bright light direct on top of her, and her body started moving around, her hands trying to grasp at something. Seeing her friend start to get agitated, Lena got up and took one of her hands on hers.

Kara looked to the side when she felt someone touch her and her face imediatly split in a lazy smile when she recognized the woman by her side. "Hi."

Lena also smiled. "Hello."

The blonde dropped her head back to the hospital bed and sighed. "I feel like I was hit by a Kryptonite truck." She confessed. "What happened?"

Fighting her tears, Lena answered exaspered. "You're stubborn, that's what happened."

Kara frowned. "I'm not."

Lena huffed and shook her head. "Fighting an alien until you're exausted and then almost die because you didn't want to let it go is the definition of stubborn in my dictionary."

The hero looked at her friend for a couple of seconds, before a goofy smile spread on her face. "You have a weird dictionary."

Lena rolled her eyes when a breathless laugh escaped her lips. "You're not allowed to make jokes yet, you scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry." By her tone, Lena knew she was talking more than just making a joke whe her friend was clearly in distress. Kara gave her a reasuring smile and squeezed her hand back. "Do you know what the problem was?"

The CEO shook her head. "What?"

"You weren't there to give me my good luck kiss." The hero's goofy smile was back and she hoped that her friend would associate the blush on her cheeks to the hot lamps directed to her face.

Lena rolled her eyes yet again, but she leaned forward either way. "Don't make me regreat indulging your wishes, Supergirl." She teased before pressing their lips together.

Kara gasped both in surprise and because of the eletrical feeling that rushed through her body. She raised her left hand, ignoring all the wires trying to pull her back down, to cup Lena's face as she pressed her lips back. They shared that moment with beating hearts, sweat palms, the beep of the machines around and tingling lips and, when she pulled back, Kara chased Lena's lips to give her two more quick kisses, not ready to let her go.

"Didn't thought I was that lucky." She whispered dreamly. "And green is definitely my favorite color."

Emerald eyes blinked down in confusion for a second, before Lena bent to kiss her forehead. "I'm going to get you to eat kale, just wait."

V.

"You're cheating!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are! How did you know I had this cards?"

"If I had used my x-ray vision, I wouldn't be able to see your cards, Alex! I would have seen you naked."

Lena and Maggie exchanged a look while both sisters kept their discussion on whether Kara had or not cheated during their Uno game. The detective used her head to point to the kitchen behind her, silently inviting Lena to follow her, for which the woman was grateful for. They got up, ignoring and being ignored by the other two, and headed for the kitchen. Maggie opened the fridge to grab another beer for her and ofered one for Lena.

"Do you think we ever will be able to have a game night without those two arguing like old grumpy people?" Lena asked while Maggie opened their bottles and reached out one for her.

The shorter woman scoffed. "The day it happens I will start looking for the portal to take me back to the other dimension."

"Fair." Lena pursed her lips and took a sip of her beer. "Did Alex and you already choose the date for your wedding?"

Maggie huffed as she leaned back on the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. "Danvers is just stalling me, I know."

"Maybe you should just set it up and have Kara drag her there." Lena joked and the other woman joined for a laugh.

"Do you know a priest?"

"Hey." They turned their heads to see Kara, in her Supersuit, standing behind Lena with both hands on her hips and a fun smile. "I heard sirens, I will check it out."

"And what are you still doing here?" Maggie teased.

But Lena was already putting her bottle down on the table and her arms circled around Kara's neck as the blonde circled her waist. "I'm waiting for my good luck kiss." Kara whispered and leaned down to gain the said kiss.

It was messy for a second since they were both smiling so hard, but soon Lena pulled back, gave her another peck and took a step away.

"Good luck, Supergirl."

[yadds]

Tony Reappears, Pt 5 - Tony gains a new confidant in the form of one Peter Parker, Pepper tries to understand.

Part 1 - what would happen if Tony appeared out of nowhere to be found by Peter, who’s still haunted by Beck’s reality bending? Part 2 - Tony is in bad shape and Peter helps, Strange snarks, and Pepper gives him the kick in the pants he needs. Part 3 - Tony has come back with more than he bargained for. Part 4: Tony is Iron Man. Plus, Tony gets to go home.

____________________________________________________________________

It was a Wednesday night and Tony was trying desperately to find a distraction. 

He’d hit a block in his control design and was spiraling, down, down into the depths of his bitterness and guilt. He couldn’t focus on anything, head jerking up periodically as he drifted in and out of consciousness while sitting at his work table. He also couldn’t stand the thought of actually trying to sleep in this mindset. 

He flung his schematic holos away, growling in frustration as he dropped his head into his hands. His eyes cut to the side to check the time. 12:15 AM. Too late to call and pester reasonable people. He sighed. 

But wait. Maybe not too late for a college student. 

“Fri, call-“ he cut himself off. No. What if Peter has a big exam in the morning and had just gotten to sleep? Or what if he was out actually enjoying his life? It’s not like he was just sitting around his dorm waiting for Tony to call. 

“Who would you like me to call, boss?” Friday asked. 

“Never mind, sweetheart. I just saw the time,” he fibbed, ”I don’t think anyone is up for a call from me right now.”

“Peter is currently taking a break from patrolling,” Friday dutifully reported. Talk about an intuitive AI. 

Tony arched a brow. “Is he now? And how do you know that?”

“Karen told me,” she replied. Right, they were basically connected at the metaphorical hip now. 

He mulled this information over for a minute before he bit the bullet. “Okay, old girl. Call him up,” he called, leaning back in his chair and steepling his hands over his chest. 

He was weirdly nervous as he listened to the phone ring. 

His heart was racing by the time Peter answered with a breathless, “Hello?”

Tony’s mouth opened but nothing came out, suddenly speechless. What was he even supposed to say? I was feeling mopey so I called someone half my age to cheer me up? What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter questioned as the silence drug on. “Shit, did I hang up on you? Damn it, Karen, I thought we’d fixed that! Ughhhhh why am I this way? Well we’d better call him back before-”

Tony chuckled, nerves evaporating as his chest filled with amused affection. “No need, kid, I’m here.”

“Oh, great! Except for the fact that you definitely just heard me rambling like an idiot. Am I talking fast? I feel like I’m talking really fast.”

“Definitely fast. You good? I thought you were patrolling - you’re not doing that high are you? Don’t make me lecture you about stupid choices,” he warned teasingly. 

“No, of course not! I’ve just been slinging around a lot, which gets my blood pumping and gets me kinda hyped up, you know?” 

Tony nodded. “Ah, to be young and enjoy life just for the hell of it,” he said sagely. 

“Don’t you get that feeling too? I mean, come on, you can fly!” Peter asked, huffing as Tony heard him sit down heavily. 

“I guess I used to,” Tony said thoughtfully. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done it just for kicks, though.”

“Well you should!” Peter insisted. 

Tony was quiet for a moment as he thought about it, remembering the thrill of flight the first time in his Mark II. But the idea of getting back in the suit made his chest sieze. He drew in a sharp breath before gathering himself enough to respond quietly, “I don’t know if I can.”

Peter hummed. “Yeah, I get that,” he said softly. “It took me a while, too. I always had flashbacks of...well, you know. And panic attacks. But it got better,” he offered. 

Tony felt that knot in his chest loosen just slightly. It didn’t make it all better, but it did help, knowing someone else understood what he was going through and could validate it. He appreciated how Peter was so casual about it - he obviously took it seriously but it was also something totally normal and okay. But he’d known for years that Peter is much stronger than he is, and not just physically. 

“Maybe,” Tony replied hesitantly, not quite as optimistic about his own mental health improvement capability. He’d been in some pretty tough spots before and come back, but this was the first time he’d died.  But so had Peter and half the rest of the world, so apparently that wasn’t even particularly noteworthy.

“So, anything exciting tonight, Spiderling?” Tony asked.

Peter graciously allowed the subject change, rambling happily about stopping a mugger, walking a girl to her car who was leaving work late, playing catch with a couple kids in the park.  It was amazingly relaxing, listening to Peter recounting his night, voice animated in a way that indicated wild gesticulation on the other end of the line.

It made his throat a little thick, remembering how fucking wholesome this kid was.  This was the first time he’d gotten to hear this again since...before Titan, almost ten years ago.  He was suddenly grateful to himself for making it possible to reverse the snap, in a way he hadn’t been able to truly appreciate until this very moment.  

He realized Peter had paused, the quiet stretching before he questioned softly, “Mr. Stark?  You okay?”

Tony cleared his throat.  “Yeah, ‘course.  Keep telling me about the- the, uh, search for the best slice of pizza in Manhattan; I’m dying to know, here.”

After another hesitation, Peter continued, detailing all the places he’d visited in the past few weeks. 

Tony leaned back, closed his eyes, and smiled. 

.

A week later found Tony standing in front of one of his suits that had made it back to the lab, kept all this time, he assumed, for sentimental reasons. 

He reached out but recoiled before he could make contact, breath catching. 

Shaking his head to clear it, he turned quickly and went back to his work table. 

.

They had a schedule now. Tony spent the weekends at the cabin with the girls and occasionally picked up Morgan in the evenings after school for a few hours. 

He’d finished his control protocols (now named FEMA because he was his own natural disaster), which used subdermal chips to monitor his vitals and would deploy nanites from the wristbands he now wore to restrain him in the instance of nighttime adrenaline spikes - an unfortunately common occurrence, as he was plagued by nightmares. The restraints didn’t particularly help with the nightmare situation, but they were a necessity. 

He’d start out in bed with Pepper, but when she fell asleep, he felt the panic settle gradually over him until his chest felt concave with the pressure of it, breath coming shorter and shorter. So he’d roll out of bed and go down to the crude lab he had out there, usually tinkering with cars and blasting music loud enough that he’d hopefully drown out that inner voice whispering soft, hateful self-incriminations.

He’d quickly discovered that alcohol no longer had any effect on him. He also discovered, in a fit of desperation, that neither did drugs. So his faithful old friends had deserted him when he needed them the most. 

So he was trying so-called “healthy coping mechanisms” now, like hard work and spending time with loved ones. Which was great, but Tony’s issues were gargantuan and he was an addict at heart; he craved any release like a starving man craved food (which he was actually quite familiar with, so he knew it was apt). He knew this, knew he came on way too strong, too needy, and was just...too much. In his attempts to not smother his people, he found himself becoming withdrawn and distant, tormented by the certainty that he’d drive them away with his clingy dependence. 

Tony was terrified Pepper would remember just how inadequate he’d always been, how much his love for her, his money, his intelligence never overcame his inability to give her what she needed.  He knew she still talked to Tom, and he’d never ask her to completely cut him out of her life, but it didn’t help his insecurities.  He would see Pepper’s jaw clench or her eyes dart away and he’d find a way to quickly shut up and make himself scarce.

Happy would check his watch and Tony would suddenly recall an important task running in the lab he needed to check on. 

Morgan, his sweet angel, would gladly hang off him until the end of time, but he knew she needed to get back to having a normal life. Well, as normal as life gets when you have a family of billionaires and superheroes. 

And he also didn’t want her to see behind the curtain, to see what a weak man her father really was. 

Rhodey came by when he could, but he was kept busy with his duties in DC and a new wife. Tony had done enough to damage Rhodey’s career and relationships in the past. He didn’t need to add his newest level of instability onto his friend like that. 

And Peter. He never seemed annoyed by Tony’s random check-ins but also didn’t have a problem telling him when he was busy, which actually did more to allay Tony’s worries about being a nuisance than anything. Tony never found any indications from Peter that he should pull back. But he did anyway. Because, well, Peter was a goddamn blessing to the world. And if Tony could, he’d bottle him up and keep him all for himself. 

So, anyway, “healthy” was...probably still not an accurate term for his coping mechanisms, shoddy as they were. But at least he wasn’t poisoning his body into an early grave. Again. Ha-fucking-ha. 

.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter questioned one night. 

“Yeah, kid?” Tony replied easily, distracted by the circuit board he was soldering while they talked. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. 

Tony’s brows snapped down and he automatically looked up at the screen in front of him despite the fact that this was an audio call, which was frustrating since he’d really like to see Peter’s face to see if he could tell what had brought on this madness. 

“What?” He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what the hell he’d done now that made Peter feel like he’d done something wrong. He hissed as the soldering iron pressed heavily into his finger. He finally set the tool down and looked down to see the circuit board he’d been working on was ruined now. Not surprising. 

“What?” he said again. “Of course not. I mean not as far as I know. What the hell are you talking about?”

Peter’s heavy sigh echoed through the lab. “I dunno, just thought maybe I’d pissed you off or done something to annoy you,” he said, too casually.  Tony could perfectly imagine the shrug and eye aversion that would go with that statement.

“What?” Tony intoned again.  He knew he sounded like a broken record but seriously, what?  “Not at all, kid.  I mean, not more than normal.  Which was a joke, sorry, I can’t help myself.  In all seriousness though, I’m not upset at you.  Why would you even think that?”

“Okay, sorry, it’s nothing.  Anyway-” Peter said quickly, trying to change the subject.

“No, no, no,” Tony interrupted.  “Nuh uh.  Circle back around here.  I’m not letting this one go.  I need to know what I’m doing that’s making you feel like that so that I can fix it.”

“No!  You’re not doing anything wrong, Mr. Stark,” Peter insisted.

“Well, obviously I am.  Just tell me what’s going on, kid,” Tony coaxed.

After a brief hesitation, Peter took a deep breath before responding.  “You’ve just been kind of...distant, I guess.  I felt like we’d been getting along so well when I was visiting and we were talking on the phone more and it was like we were...friends, you know?  And it just seemed like lately you haven’t been as engaged and you’ve been calling less.  But I know you’re super busy and you’ve got a lot going on and more important people to hang out with, so I’m sorry, I’m just being overly sensitive.”

Tony’s elbows fell down onto the table in front of him, hands cradling his head.  Of fucking course.  His idea to help spare the kid had just ended up hurting him.  And how was he supposed to explain this without sounding as fucked up as he actually was?

“Mr. Stark?” Peter pressed softly.

“Yeah kid, still here.  Just...give me just a minute, okay?” he replied wearily.

Tony listened to Peter’s soft breaths, the rustling of the wind, the NYC traffic far in the background over the line.  

“Pete, I - fuck, I don’t know really know what to say,” he said, unable to come up with one of his usual lines.  “Just know that it is definitely not your fault.  I’m not tired of you or upset at you or any other bullshit you’re coming up with in that head of yours.  And I don’t know what ‘more important’ people you think I’m hanging out with, but that’s definitely not the case either.  I mean, hell, I think only maybe ten people are even aware I’m alive.  But regardless, even if I had every single person on the planet at my disposal, you would still be one of the most important people to me.  So don’t sell yourself so short.”

He heard Peter’s breath hitch slightly before he cleared his throat.  “Oh.  Well, okay.  And, uh, same.  Just so you know.”

Tony’s lips twitched in a tired smile.  Despite the awkwardness of it, he knew Peter was ridiculous sincere about it.  “And hey, you can always call me, too - stop making me do all the work.”

“Okay,” Peter said.  “I just don’t want to bother you.  Between trying to get your family back together and figure out your new body, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, so I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“Never,” Tony replied immediately.  “Nah, kid, you’re not a nuisance.  I like hearing from you.  And honestly, you’re probably my best source for figuring out the physical craziness and I’m not utilizing you near enough for that.”

Peter hummed.  “Okay, well just promise to let me know if you’re busy or if I’m getting to be too much.”

“Same,” Tony responded, echoing Peter’s earlier statement.

As Peter huffed a laugh, Tony felt confident enough that had been handled as much as it needed to be and launched into an explanation of his current project.  

Thank God, because the moment of touchy-feely honesty was surely going to start making his skin crawl. 

.

It became a thing: Tony calling when he was stressed and couldn’t sleep, Peter calling frustrated about classes, and everything in between.  Peter realized that Tony was basically under house arrest so he’d send him pictures of random things he saw on the street - a cute dog, a weird sign, his lunch for the day, a crazy outfit someone was wearing.

More and more often, Pepper would come downstairs looking for Tony when he left their bed on the weekends to find him lounging in the lab, laughing as he talked to Peter in the middle of the night.

At first, he’d see her come in and nod and she’d smile back, relieved to see him happy and connecting with someone else.

Tonight, she was not smiling.  Tony noticed her jaw clenched and eyes shuttered when he glanced at her and he frowned.

“Hey, Pete, I’m gonna have to cut this short, okay?  We’ll talk later,” Tony cut in.

“Oh,” Peter said dumbly.  “Uh, yeah, sure, no problem.  Good night Mr. Stark!”

“Night, kid,” Tony replied before promptly hanging up.

“What’s wrong, Pep?” Tony asked, turning and giving her his full attention.  

She stood in front of him, arms crossed and fingers tapping agitatedly on her opposite elbow as she battled with whether to say what she really wanted.  Tony was quiet as he waited for her to decide.

“I’m trying to be understanding, Tony,” Pepper finally said.  “I am.  But are you ever going to be able to sleep in the same bed as me or is this going to be how it is for the rest of our lives?”

“Honestly?  I have no idea.  As long as I feel like you or Morgan are in danger then the answer is no.”

“Isn’t that what the FEMA protocol is for?” she asked.

“Yes, but it’s one thing to have it work in a test situation and another thing completely to trust it with your life.  And I don’t.  Do you think I don’t want to be able to sleep next to you?” Tony said, frustrated.

“Some days I feel like I really don’t know.  You seem perfectly content to come down here and talk to Peter every night,” she said.

“Is that a problem?” Tony asked, brows furrowed.  “Me talking to Peter?”

“No.  Yes.  I don’t know,” Pepper said, sighing, hand coming up to cover her face.  “I just feel like you’re able to talk to him in a way we haven’t been able to manage and I’m...jealous,” she admitted.  “And yes, I know how incredibly childish and stupid this sounds.”

“Hey,” Tony said softly, standing up and coming to grab her by the elbows and pull her close.  “No, it’s not stupid at all.  I get it.  Mine and Peter’s relationship is easier than ours, and it’s not fair.  But it’s because we have a simpler relationship - we’re not trying to juggle a romantic relationship, a parenting relationship, and a potential working relationship in addition to our friendship.”

“But it’s not just that,” Pepper said, looking up at him.  “You talk to him in a way you don’t talk to me.  And I never see you laugh like that with me - it’s like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tony dropped his gaze, pulling back slightly.  “I guess I also don’t feel like I have as much to lose with Peter.”

“Because he doesn’t mean as much to you or because you think he’s a sure thing and I’m not?” Pepper asked bluntly.

He pulled back another step, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair.  “I wouldn’t say Peter necessarily means less to me. Of course he doesn’t mean more than you, he’s just important to me in a different way - like how you and Morgan and Happy are all important to me in different ways.”

“And?”

Tony didn’t want to answer the second part of that question.  But Pepper was staring expectently at him, no out in sight.  “What do you want me to say, Pepper?” he asked wearily.

“I want you to tell me why you always act like you’ve got one foot out the door.”

Tony grit his teeth before replying.  “Because I know I’m gonna fuck this up and I still don’t really know where I stand with you.  So instead of bumbling my way through it, it just seems...I don’t know, safer, I guess, to just be ready for it all to explode in my face so I’m prepared for the inevitable end.”

“You’re being a coward,” Pepper said harshly, eyes filmy and lower lip trembling.  

Tony recoiled, eyes hurt and wary, but didn’t deny it. “You’re right,” he admitted softly. “But can you honestly tell me that you’re not waiting for the same thing, Pep?”

She immediately started shaking her head. “No, of course I’m not! I…” but she trailed off. 

“I see it,” Tony cut in before she could gather herself.  “I see how you’re always waiting for me to disappoint, bracing yourself for how to deal with it and make this work. I’ve always admired your problem-solving abilities, honey, but this shouldn’t have to be something that you grit your teeth and push through just to get it done. I don’t want to be another chore.”

Pepper shut her eyes tight, brow scrunched in pain briefly before she opened them again. She sniffled quietly, a tear tracking slowly down her left cheek as the rest of her face remained stoic.

As the silence drew out, she sighed, shoulders slumping. “Maybe that’s true. And I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”

Tony shrugged in response, scuffing his foot across the floor. 

“But I still want to work on this, on us,” she said. 

“Me too, honey,” Tony murmured, stepping back into her space. 

Pepper smiled tremulously, reaching out and twining her fingers behind his neck. “So come to bed,” she coaxed. 

Tony stiffened, shaking his head. But as he opened his mouth, she put her finger to his lips, smile turning coy. “Beds aren’t just for sleeping, Tony.”

Eyes widening, Tony blinked helplessly for several seconds before gathering her in his arms and bolting for the main house, Pepper screeching in laughter on the way.

.

It was wonderful. 

The closeness, the intimacy, was everything he’d craved, miles of warm, smooth skin against his own. He trembled violently, overwhelmed, skin soaking up the contact it had been deprived of for so, so long.

It was beautiful. 

His hands glided over every inch of her, worshiping her body until she’d pulled him back up impatiently. He sank into her, warmth that permeated through him, down to his bones. 

It was earth-shattering. 

As she came apart beneath him and he reached his peak, he felt his blood surge, hands flying to the headboard to brace himself. Groaning deeply, his hips jolted forward and the headboard exploded in his grip. 

It was terrible. 

Chest heaving, he looked down and froze, seeing her wide eyes staring up at him, splintered shards of wood in her hair. He scrambled backwards, all that glorious warmth turned to ice in his veins. Despite her rushed assurances, he stumbled out of the room. 

It was never happening again.

____________________________________________________________________

So I ended up having to split up this update.  Because I seem to have a major problem with not having an ending that’s depressing.  

I’ve got a pretty good chunk of the next part written (look forward to Peter visiting Tony but everything still being frustratingly sweet and platonic, and a brief return mention of badass/scary!Peter) so hopefully the delay between updates will be shorter buuuuut no guarantees.  Kids, y’all, they are a major time and energy suck - but they’re worth it because I love them :)

taglist: @marvelobsessedrat, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerstories @t1of3 @consciencecoward @peachbabytarte

[evil-overlord-scriptology]

But I Don’t Want to be a Sensei Pt 1 (ARCHIVED)

Chapters 1 thru 7

Chapter 1: Of Arrogant Uncles and Annoying Brothers

My mouth dropped open as I regarded my clan leader, “You want me to do what?!” I screeched. Fugaku-sama didn't seem impressed by my breech in conduct. Feeling sheepish under his fierce gaze, I ducked my head. Damn the Uchiha Main Branch and their ability to cower anyone with a look. Usually I was unaffected by glares, being an Uchiha and all, but Fugaku and his family seemed to be the exception to that rule.

 “I will not repeat myself.” Fugaku-sama stated, crossing his arms and leveling a nasty look at me. Of course he wouldn't. My clan leader may have had a change of heart but he was still an arrogant asshole... not that I'd ever tell him that. I wasn't that insane, not matter what other people said.

 Still, my common sense didn't prevent me from keeping my mouth shut; Nii-san always did say that I had no concept of the art. Funny, since it was coming from him, “Well you damn well better repeat yourself, because I thought I heard you say that you want me to babysit your brat!” I snapped. I got extreme satisfaction in seeing Fugaku's eyes widen at my blatant disrespect. Whatever punishment I was about to receive was worth it.

 Fugaku-sama's Sharingan flashed, but being an Uchiha gave me some resistance to the intimidation of glowing red eyes. “You will not take that tone with me, Uchiha Yanagi, is that understood?” Fugaku ground out in that stern voice of his. Some deaf idiot might call it fatherly, but I could hear the cold undertone. If I stepped out of line again, I would probably be denounced as an Uchiha, if I was that lucky.

 I decided not to push my luck.

 I bowed low, “Apologizes, Uchiha-sama, I did not mean to offend.” I said in a false humble voice. Fugaku and I both knew that I had meant every word out of my mouth. I wasn't known as blunt and opinionated for nothing. Still, it was all a matter of pride. If I apologized then I would get an explanation from the infuriating man. That was the unspoken rule.

 Fugaku made me grovel a moment longer before sighing. “I want you to be a jounin sensei.” He stated again. Right off the bat, another sucker-punch. My clan leader didn't believe in sugarcoating words, that much was true.

 I bit my lip to keep the retort that was begging to be said in.

 “My eldest son's efforts to bring the Uchiha clan closer to the village are starting to fall short.” No surprise there, Konohagakure didn't trust the Uchiha clan for whatever absurd reason, and visa-versa. Five years ago the Uchiha clan had planned a coup d'état, I still do not understand the reasoning behind the Uchiha's actions. Luckily for the Uchiha clan, Fugaku's eldest son Itachi, and his friend Shisui, managed to stop the coup d'état before anything happened. Since then, the Uchiha and Konoha have been working hard to make past amends.

 And according to Fugaku, those amends weren't doing jack.

 “What does that have to do with me?” I asked, struggling hard to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I was already in hot water as it was. I didn't need to accidentally take a flying leap over the edge. The man gave me a displeased scowl, which I had a suspicion that he was just doing it because he wanted to. Fugaku seemed to be that kind of man.

 “The Hokage has recently thought up of a new plan to bring the clan closer to the village. We are to implement our teachings into the new generation that is graduating from the Academy. You are to be the first Uchiha jounin sensei.” Was it bad that this village had been around for a long time and I was the first ever Uchiha to be a sensei? I wanted to roll my eyes, but didn't. I could see through that false pride in a heartbeat. And I didn't need my Sharingan to do that.

 I sat back, seeing no need to keep bowing like some groveling peasant, and crossed my arms, “I still don't see what this has to do with me. Why not someone else? Itachi-san, perhaps. I'm sure he'd love to teach his younger brother.” Okay, the sarcasm was starting to show.

 “It is because of Itachi's relation to Sasuke that he is unable to be a jounin sensei.” And my relation to Sasuke wasn't? I was his first cousin, damn it! I couldn't help but notice that Fugaku failed to mention why I was the person chosen to be the glorious Uchiha sensei.

 Sometimes I think Fugaku should have been named 'weasel' instead of his eldest son.

 Before I could open my mouth, Fugaku waved his hand and turned his head away to find something new to occupy his attention, “Go. The class graduates tomorrow, you are to pick your team up the day after. The information packet will be sent to your house.” Damn old codger. He just had to change the subject before I could grill him some more. I gave a smart, slightly mocking, bow and marched out of the room. I just hoped that nothing else bad happened.

 Apparently it wasn't my lucky day.

 “Oof!” I ran smack into a hard body. Damn it, I wanted to get home and be as sarcastic and hateful as I wanted, not playing nice to more pompous Uchiha men! I took a step back and glared up at the person I had run into. I groaned wordlessly when I saw who it was and ground my teeth together so I wouldn't speak.

 Shisui gave me an easy smile, “Yanagi...” He acknowledged with an amused tone. His dark eyes darted to the room I had just exited, then back to me, “Have a good argument?” The man asked teasingly. If anyone knew I liked arguing with my betters, it was Shisui. Sometimes I think he was the reason why I argued so much. I glared at him and made to walk past him, but he stepped in my path, “Ah, don't be mean, Yagi... You know I love you.” Shisui whined in a playful tone.

 I intensified my glare and punched Shisui in the gut. I was the only person allowed to physically hit Uchiha Shisui and get away with it, and I took advantage of my privileges. Like usual, Shisui took the blow with a good-natured chuckle, “Still giving me the silent treatment, eh? Yagi, I think you hold the record for holding grudges.”

 My jaw worked as I thought about breaking my five year silence towards the goofy Uchiha. His comment did deserve a response, but if I did say something he would only tease me about breaking my silence. I really wanted to slap him for using that stupid childhood name too, we weren't kids anymore; but I doubt Shisui would be very amused with a slap to the face. Hitting yes, slapping... not so much.

 I was saved from making the choice when Fugaku-sama called from inside his office, “Shisui!” The old codger barked like the badger he was. Still, he saved me from dealing with the stupid Uchiha before me, so I'd let him off the hook this one time. I gave Shisui a self-satisfied smirk, which he returned with a wink and a mocking little bow, as I dodged around the twenty-three year old man and took off like there was no tomorrow.

 Of all the Uchiha, Shisui was probably the one who annoyed me the most, even more so than my brother.

 vvv

 “YANAGI!!! Close the damn door!” My brother screeched like an old wife when I walked in the house we lived in. I rolled my eyes and slammed the door shut. I had just walked in and he was acting like I had left the door open for hours, not mere seconds.

 “I didn't have the chance before you started yelling at me!” I yelled back as I sat down to take off my sandals. Calmly I put the black shoes neatly on the floor where I could shove my feet in them if I was in a hurry and kicked Nii-san's shoes out of the way. My brother was a slob and he proudly admitted to it. There was a reason why I didn't get along with him, we were too different; we were almost opposite in every way.

 Obito cursed and stomped into the living room, his one eye livid, “You're late and I'm hungry. Get in the kitchen!” Nii-san said, half playfully, throwing his head back and pointing a rigid finger towards the kitchen.

 “Go shove ramen down your throat. I'm not cooking.” I hissed as I started for my room. I wasn't Obito's slave, there was no way I was going to do anything I didn't want to.

 Of course Obito wasn't going to have any of that. Before I could get three feet from him, Nii-san had his arms wrapped around my waist and was bodily dragging me to the kitchen. “Food, now! Smartass comments later.” He ordered. I made sure to fight him all the way, if Obito was determined to get me to cook, he was going to regret every second of it.

 I wondered if Kakashi left that poison around from the last mission...

 “I already got rid of the poison. Nice try.” Obito said dully as he shoved me through the doorway to the kitchen. I groaned, he knew me too well. “Now do your womanly duties!”

 My eyes narrowed as I glared at my brother, “Does that include providing someone with children?” I asked sarcastically. I could predict what Obito would do. He would go into a tirade how no man was to touch me until I was forty, and even then it was to be with a fifty foot pole. My brother was more overprotective than a father would be. No father in their right mind would attempt to order a twenty-one year old jounin around, but Obito did and he somehow got away with it. The only people of the male persuasion who were allowed withing a ten foot radius of me when Nii-san was around was himself and Kakashi, who was basically another brother to me–I only liked him more.

 As I predicted, Obito immediately went on defense, “Why, has anyone asked? Cuz I'll skin them alive, castrate them with a rusty kunai, rip their spine out and choke them with it! And in that order!”

 I rolled my eyes at my brother's exuberant behavior as I bent down to dig around in the cupboards before I found the pot I wanted. “Alright, Nii-san, don't go on another man hunt. The Hokage said no more.”

 Obito crossed his arms with a pout, “I didn't hurt that one guy that bad...” He grumbled.

 “You put him in the hospital!”

 “He's the one who tripped.”

 “And fell off the roof that you had cornered him on.”

 “It's his own fault, he shouldn't have tried to run.”

 My right eye twitched as I turned away and slammed the pot down on the stove, just pretending that the stove was Obito's head and I was bashing it in. My anger still not spent, I went around the kitchen making Miso soup and imagining every ingredient I used was Obito's head. I especially liked it when I was dicing the green onions. My brother was too protective when it came to my romantic life–though, thanks to Obito, my romantic life was practically nonexistent. The man that had fallen off the building during Obito's last man hunt hadn't even been really into me. He was just flirting for the sake of flirting. I could see that in his eyes. But of course my brother didn't bother to think about it. He just charged in without thinking.

 And people wondered why I didn't like my brother.

 Obito, being the perceptive Uchiha that he was, said, “Stop beating my imaginary head in. Kakashi-baka is coming to dinner.”

 “And what does Kakashi coming over have to do with me crushing your skull?” I asked testily.

 For the first time since I had been home, Obito finally cracked a smile. It wasn't as goofy as it could be, more cynical, “Because Kakashi-baka might try and make it into a reality! You're making Miso soup right?” Miso soup was the only dish that I could make that met Kakashi's snooty taste buds. I swear the man was more picky than Fugaku-sama, who was legendary when it came to being a picky eater.

 “I was going to make it anyway. It's easy and fast and you hate it.” I snapped playfully. Obito only pouted, which meant he knew I was teasing. If he thought I had been serious we would already be fighting again.

 Nii-san reached over and tugged hard on my ponytail, “Watch it brat, or I might handcuff you to Shisui.” I shivered at the thought. Being handcuffed to someone I wasn't speaking to wouldn't be fun, especially since they would do everything in their power to make me talk. Obito laughed at my expression of horror, “Why do you hate him anyway?” He asked.

 I shot Nii-san a glare, “I don't hate Shisui... he just reminds me of you too much.”

 Obito gave a sly smile, “So you do hate him.” He stated.

 “No, I don't. I hate his personality.”

 “That's the same as hating him.”

 “Uchiha Obito, do not incur my wrath, it will be the end of you!”

 Obito smirked and sang teasingly, “You're just proving my point by changing the subject~!” He barely dodged the ladle I threw at him, considering it was at point blank I was rather impressed by my brother's evading skills. We were too busy glaring at each other now to pay attention to where the ladle went.

 “Yo! Is this a bad time?” Kakashi's voice said behind Obito. My eyes widened as I looked over my brother's shoulder at his best friend and old teammate. He was twirling the ladle around his right index finger, his only visible eye closed in an eye-smile. Behind Kakashi, Rin was giggling at the scene before her, her fingers pressed against her lips.

 Obito immediately spun around at the sound of Kakashi's voice, his single eye zeroing in on Rin. I sighed, though Obito said he was over Rin I suspected my brother still loved the twit. I never really liked her that much. She was nice and friendly, I admit; but there was no way she could be oblivious to my brother's aberrant affection, not without having to be a nitwit. So either she was stupid for not noticing that Obito loved her, or cruel enough to never dissuade him. I might not like my brother as some siblings did, but I still cared for him on some degree. And I didn't like how Rin treated him throughout their genin days. But for the sake of my brother's feelings, I never voiced my opinions.

 This silence was getting awkward as Obito just stared at Rin...

 BONG!!

 “Ouch! Yanagi, what the hell was that for?!” Obito shouted, clutching the back of his head as he turned to glare at me. I smiled sweetly as I could and tossed the dented metal cooking spoon into the trash. Just because I cared for my brother's feelings to a degree didn't mean anything. I was still going to abuse my power as the younger sister.

 “Can't I be a pest without any reason?” I asked innocently as I poured four bowls of Miso soup and passed them out among the three former members of Team Minato, keeping one for myself. From the way Nii-san's eye narrowed I knew his answer was 'no I couldn't'. I grinned evilly at him, my brother didn't have a say in what I did anyway. If I wanted to hit him in the back of the head with a metal spoon, I would.

 Kakashi sighed at our antics, “You two are idiots.” He said dully, the cheerful nature he had been sporting disappearing to be replaced with his true personality. Obito of course started yelling at Kakashi while I just rolled my eyes. I loved to argue, but only when I got a reaction out of people. Kakashi wouldn't react if I lit his clothes on fire.

 I listened mildly as the two exchanged insults, Kakashi's were more subtle than Obito's, sipping periodically from my bowl. It was hard to believe that those two men were part of Konoha's elite ninja. They bickered like five year olds. I glanced over at Rin to see her right eye twitching in irritation. Ever since that S-ranked mission years ago during the Third Shinobi War, her personality had gone from timid and sweet to more assertive. My mouth twitched upwards, I could hardly remember the days when Rin unsuccessfully tried to reason with Kakashi and Obito. Now however...

 The brown haired woman reached across the table and grabbed both men by their ears, pulling hard, “Would you two behave?!” She snapped when she had their attention. Kakashi jerked his ear from her grasp and glared at her. Obito only whined like the baby he was. Soon all three of them were arguing. I snorted into my bowl. If there was one thing that could be said about my brother and his friends, it was they knew how to keep me entertained.

 Just as Obito threw the first kunai–which was a regular occurrence among these three–there was a knock at the door. All four of us stopped what we were doing to look at the door in confusion. It was rare that Obito or I got any visitors, much less ones who actually knocked on the door instead of walking in like they owned the place. After the scandal about Nii-san refusing to take his left sharingan back from Kakashi, the Uchiha clan pretty much isolated Obito and me.

 I went to answer the door and was surprised to see a Konoha official, not an Uchiha, standing there looking nervous. I really didn't blame him, Obito and I were known for our short tempers and brash behavior. We weren't exactly typical Uchiha clan members in that sense. Because of our reputation, I saw no need to be polite, “What do you want?” I asked shortly.

 The Konoha nin gulped and shoved a moderately thick packet at me, “Meeting is tomorrow at the Hokage's office. Good day, Uchiha-san.” The man said quickly then high tailed it out of there.

 Obito was on my case the second I closed the door, “What's all that about? Why does the Hokage want you? Speak, imoto!” My brother said his single eye staring intensely at the packet in my hands. I shoved past him, ignoring his questions. If Obito knew that Fugaku-sama was forcing me to be a jounin sensei, I would never hear the end of it.

 I forgot about Kakashi.

 “You're going to be a jounin sensei?” The white haired nin asked curiously. He recognized the packet, having been almost a jounin sensei himself a couple of occasions. Kakashi always failed the potential genin and went back to being an ANBU captain. He was infamous for failing ever single student. I didn't know why the Hokage continuously tried to make Kakashi a sensei when he clearly didn't want to be one.

 That made two of us.

 “WHAT?!” Obito screeched and the three of us winced at his tone. I sighed as I tucked the packet under my arm. This was going to be a long day.

  Chapter 2: Last Day of Freedom

“There's that kid... You know I heard he's the only one who failed.”

 “Hmph, serves him right.”

 “Can you imagine what would happen if he became an ninja?”

 I opened my eyes as my ears picked up on the conversation among the happy parents celebrating their brats' graduation. Turning my head slightly to the left and looking down, I could see the object of the women's conversation straddling the swing hanging from the tree I was lounging in. I felt no pity for him. I had chased after the yellow haired menace too many times for disruption of the peace and defacing public property; since part of the Konoha Police Force's job was to watch over the brat and make sure nothing befell him as well as keep him from pranking.

 The little fox brat always managed slipped past the Police Force squads and caused a ruckus anyway.

 I glanced over my shoulder at my teammate sitting in the same tree I was. Ibo was watching the gossiping peahens with fierce intensity. Should either of the women make a threatening move towards Naruto, the white haired Uchiha would step in and 'dissuade' them from continuing their attack. Ibo glanced at me when he felt my gaze. I wordlessly lifted my hand and made a series of quick one handed signs. Ibo nodded silently and repeated the hand gestures to our other teammate who was on the ground, leaning in the shade of the Academy building.

 Ibo and I watched as Denryoku waded into the crowd of proud brats and mushy parents, his dark eyes on the two women. All conversation dwindled away as everyone watched the imposing man stalk towards the bimbos. Both women snapped their attention around to the Uchiha, but I was too far away to see their expression. Denryoku gave the two a polite smile and nod as he passed by them without a word, continuing down the street like he was going on patrol and nothing more. When he was gone, the woman bent closer together to whisper, eyes darting for any more signs of the police. I grinned a little to myself, nothing like reminding two idiots that the Konoha Police Force was always monitoring Naruto and any hint of revealing the secret about him.

 I stood and stretched my arms above my head, using chakra to keep me balanced on the slim tree branch, “Come on, Ibo, our work is finished.” I said dully.

 My more silent teammate shot me a glance as he too stood up. In a quick succession of hand signals, my teammate informed me that we weren't off duty yet. I rolled my eyes and pointed downwards, where the swing Naruto had been sitting on swung back and forth wildly. The kid had gone off with one of his teachers, he was safe and we didn't have to worry any more. Ibo still looked skeptical, but followed me nonetheless. I was captain of the squad for a reason.

 And it wasn't just because I was the only one who knew how to do paperwork correctly.

 Denryoku was flirting with a small crowd of girls when we walked up on him. I rolled my eyes. Like all Uchiha men, Denryoku had a fanclub. The only problem was, unlike most Uchiha, Denryoku adored his fans almost as much as they adored him.

 “Enjoying yourself?” I asked as Ibo and I walked up on our teammate. A few of his fangirls squealed when they saw Ibo standing beside me, but he ignored them.

 Denryoku gave me a cocky grin, his arms wrapped around the shoulders of two chesty and scantly clad women, “You know you want some of me too, Yanagi!”

 I stared at him expressionlessly.

 The flirty Uchiha stared back for a minute before hanging his head in defeat and cursing, “Damn it, Yanagi! Why do you have to be so intimidating?!” He growled as he stepped away from the sluts and crossed his arms with a pout.

 I grinned briefly before letting my face fall back into neutral, “It's a gift. Now we have to report, say goodbye to your girlfriends and hurry up.” I said and started to turn away, but Ibo grabbed my arm. Silently he pointed back towards the Academy. I followed his finger then groaned when I saw Fugaku-sama making his way towards us. Denryoku immediately leapt to our side when he saw our clan leader, scrubbing at his lipstick stained cheeks with the cuff of his sleeve. Fugaku was a bit of a prude and he thought that Uchiha shouldn't degrade themselves with vulgar behavior.

 It was a wonder how he managed to Mikoto-oba pregnant twice.

 The three of us bowed when Fugaku-sama stopped in front of us, though I didn't bow nearly as low as Ibo or Denryoku. Behind Fugaku stood his family, complete with the newly made genin brat that I would have the pleasure of torturing tomorrow.

 “Report.” Fugaku said, crossing his arms with a stern look he always wore when dealing with the Konoha Police Force squads. I stayed silent as Denryoku informed the Konoha Police Force Commander of all that had transpired. I wasn't going to speak unless my clan leader addressed my directly. And even then I might only yell at him for making me become a sensei. I loved my patrol, it was probably the only thing I enjoyed. And Fugaku-sama was taking that away all for the sake of his brat.

 My eyes darted towards the duckass boy, he was talking amiably to his older brother about whatever brats like to talk about. Tomorrow he wouldn't be smiling, I was going to make his life a living hell. Maybe he would actually quit being a ninja. I'd get a kick out of seeing how his family reacted to that.

 Sasuke must have felt my stare because he turned to me with questioning eyes. I held his gaze as my mouth tilted upwards into a sneer. I was starting to look forward to tomorrow and see how he reacted in knowing that I would be his sensei. I was even starting to hope that one of his more annoying fangirls got on the team, if only to torture Sasuke.

 Things were starting to look up.

 I was still smiling when Fugaku left my squad alone. Immediately after the Main Branch family left, Denryoku turned to me, “What sort of torture do you have planned for that poor kid?! You were practically scaring the shit out of Sasuke!” The loud mouth flirt exclaimed. Both my squad members knew of my involuntary retirement form the police force, they would be losing their captain after all. Even worse, while I was on my little quest to make the clan look good, Ibo and Denryoku would be on their own 'bring the Uchiha closer to the village' mission.

 I wouldn't return to the police force since I would be a permanent sensei, then a team leader if the genin made chunnin by some miracle. So Fugaku had found a replacement to take over my position as captain. Normally it wouldn't be that bad, but the great clan leader in all his infinite glory had decided to pull another jerk move on my poor teammates.

 They were getting an Hyuuga as a captain.

 All in the name of peace between the Uchiha and Konohagakure, at least that was what Fugaku-sama said. For years only Uchiha were trained as Konoha's police; but that lead to suspicion that the police were being biased towards the Uchiha clan, so Fugaku began granting admission to any who could make the cut. As a result there was an influx of many non-Uchiha police officers, but none had ever been given the rank of captain.

 Until now, apparently.

 Denryoku sighed and stuck his lower lip out in a pout, “Why do you have to go? Why can't it be Ibo? He's no fun.” Our silent teammate shot Denryoku a nasty look that was almost on par with mine, but as usual the abnormally white haired Uchiha said nothing.

 I rolled my eyes and stuffed my hands in my pockets, “Because then Ibo would have to actually talk. Besides, he hasn't activated the Sharingan, so he can't teach Sasuke. I have and I'm proficient with our Kekke Genkai, but I'm not powerful enough like Itachi-san or Shisui to matter if I become a jounin sensei.”

 “You know that question was rhetorical, right?” Denryoku asked drily, giving me a look out of the corner of his eye.

 I only shrugged. Denryoku was famous for asking a question he wanted to know the answer to then claiming it was rhetorical. I suspected he did that to seem smarter, especially when the answer was obvious. “Come on, let's celebrate our last night together as a squad and go drinking.” I said and threw my arms over my tall teammates shoulders. I was tall for a women, almost as tall as a man, and they were still taller than me. It wasn't fair!

 Ibo immediately shrugged my arm off and turned his head away from us. I'd bet a thousand ryo that the guy was blushing. Ibo was extremely shy, but he hid it underneath layers of neutral expressions and silence. It was one of the reasons why Fugaku paired Ibo with Denryoku and me, so that he would never have to speak and go outside of his comfort zone. Fugaku may be a grade-A jerk, but he stilled cared for his clan members.

 Denryoku wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer, “Sure! I love it when you get drunk! You're not a surly woman then.” He said cheerfully. I glared at him, contemplating whether that comment deserved setting Obito after my teammate or not. Denryoku seemed to catch on to what I was thinking, because he paled, “Not your brother...” He pleaded as he jerked his arm away from my waist.

 I grinned. It was nice to know that my teammate feared my brother enough that he would do anything I said if only to avoid the overprotective Uchiha. “Don't worry, Denryoku, I'm sure Nii-san won't hurt you too bad.” I said teasingly. Denryoku was starting to look ill.

 “You're terrible, Yanagi-san...” A soft barely audible voice said. Denryoku and I snapped our heads around to stare at Ibo, who was staring at his feet. Knowing the white haired Uchiha, he probably hadn't meant to say that out load. With shaking hands, Ibo quickly made the hand signals for an apology. Denryoku and I exchanged looks, our faces twisting up in amusement. When Fugaku had put the shy Uchiha on our squad after our last teammate retired, the clan leader had warned us about Ibo's habit to speak through jounin hand signals. We hadn't taken him seriously then.

 After three years of being on the same squad, Ibo had spoken maybe fifteen words, including the four he had just said, and used hand signs the rest of the time. It was his way of speaking.

 Denryoku pounced on Ibo, grabbing the younger Uchiha in a choke hold, “If you ever want to get a girl, you've gotta learn to talk to one, you know.” The flirt said as he ruffled Ibo's white hair with his knuckles. Ibo just took the treatment without struggle.

 I sighed, “You two are idiots. Come on, I want to drink. Maybe I'll get a hangover for tomorrow.” I said dully as I started for the nearest bar.

 Denryoku followed, Ibo still in his choke hold. “Fugaku-sama will kill you if you show up hungover tomorrow. We've all seen you the day after you're dead drunk, I can't think of anyone with a worse temper.” He pointed out.

 “Fine. I'll just get a little drunk.” I compromised.

 “Yeah right... someone is going to challenge you to a drinking game and you'll be stone drunk before you know it.” Denryoku countered drily. I glared at Denryoku, who went white and ducked behind Ibo. I felt proud that I could scare one of the physically strongest Uchiha in the clan with only a glare. Ibo sighed at the both of us and shook his head, probably wondering for the millionth time why Fugaku-sama put him on Konoha Police Squad 18.

 After flashing our ninja registration cards that showed we were all jounin at the bartender, Denryoku and I started our night getting drunk on sake. Ibo sat beside us, watching us out of the corner of his eye. Ibo never drank, having some medical condition that prevented him from partaking in the fun. Besides, we needed someone to make sure Denryoku and I didn't do something stupid.

 Half the time we did something stupid anyway.

 It took nearly two hours for Denryoku to get intoxicated, and soon after I joined him in that state of extreme happiness. I got a good laugh watching the older Uchiha flirt with anything that moved, even the bartender. I nearly fell off my stool at the expression of revulsion that the bartender sported when Denryoku asked him on a date.

 “Well you seem to be enjoying yourself.” A highly amused voice said behind me.

 I turned around with a grin, “ 'Kashi-nii-san! I didn't know you would be here, enjoying your last night of freedom too? Or did the Hokage finally learn his lesson and give up making you a jounin sensei?” I asked, my words only slightly slurred together.

 The grey haired male blinked his visible eye, from amusement or confusion that I was actually being friendly, I didn't know. He nodded towards a booth set in the back, where most of the other Jounin Elite sat chatting. My brother wasn't there luckily, he'd kill me if he knew I was drunk. I swear that man treated me like a five year old. “We're enjoying the night too.” Kakashi said mildly, not answer my question.

 Denryoku turned around, his right eye twitching in annoyance, “Hey... cool guy. My girlfriend, so back off.” The drunk Uchiha slurred. Ibo sighed and forcibly turned Denryoku back around, shooting an apologetic look at Kakashi.

 Kakashi watched my two teammates for a moment before turning to me, his visible eye questioning. I shrugged as I knocked back another shot of sake, “He's talking crazy, I'd never date him.” I dismissed the accusation easily.

 My drunk teammate turned to me, rivers of tears running down his cheeks, “Bu-but... Yanagiii... you said you loved me!” I rolled my eyes at him as I laughed out right. Only in his dreams would I ever say that I loved Denryoku, other than a friend. The Uchiha wailed loudly and threw himself all over poor Ibo, who's expression screamed 'do not want'. I laughed at their faces.

 The Hatake jounin scratched the back of his head nervously, “So this is why Uchiha never get drunk...” He said mostly to himself. I nodded happily, even though it wasn't a question. The Uchiha clan was so uptight that it had to take being stone drunk for them to relax.

 I leaned closer to Kakashi as if to share a secret, “Hey... do you think that Ibo-kun would be talkative if we got him drunk?” I asked in a loud whisper. The white haired Uchiha shot me a dirty look as he struggled to push Denryoku off of him.

 “Maybe. Let's not try it though. I think you should go home and rest up for tomorrow.” Kakashi hedged.

 My mood changed from happy to angry in .06 seconds. I glared at Kakashi, “Oh? Are you on 'Sister Duty'? Gotta make sure Obito's little sister behaves herself, huh? I'm a grown woman, Hatake Kakashi, I don't need you to tell me what to do!” Kakashi's hands went up in the air as he tried to defend himself. Outraged that he was lying, or so I thought in my hazy mind, I lashed out at him.

 vvv

 “Whoever invented hangovers should be dragged out in the street and made into a senbon pincushion.” I growled as Kakashi and I stumbled into the Hokage's office the next morning. The man had to physically drag me out of bed and then threatened to take away my supply of candy if I didn't get dressed. Excuse me if I don't feel any sympathy towards the jerk.

 My brother's best friend/rival sighed as he let me lean on him, “That's what you get,” Kakashi grumbled. I wasn't very high on Kakashi's 'nice list' since I apparently had managed to land a punch to his face before he used his sharingan to knock me out. I don't remember ever doing anything of the sort, but everyone I asked confirmed that I had socked Kakashi in the jaw for what appeared to be nothing.

 If I wasn't so proud that I landed a hit on the infamous Copy-nin, I would feel bad.

 I glared at him, “Just for that I hope you get the Uzumaki brat.” I growled testily. I almost felt sorry for the genin I would have to teach. Today they were going to face me at my worst, not even Obito dared to argue with me when I was hungover.

 Before Kakashi could respond, the Third Hokage cleared his throat. Both of us turned to see the old man giving us a stern look, the rest of the jounin looking exasperated. Suddenly I realized how late the both of us were. I glared up at Kakashi, I could see that smirk through his face mask. Kakashi had gotten Obito's habit of showing up extremely late to anything. He knew that being late was one of my biggest pet peeves, which meant the Copy-nin had done it on purpose.

 “Remind me to murder you later on.” I growled darkly as I stepped away from Kakashi, swaying on my feet. The jerk only gave me an eye smile, confirming that he had made me late on purpose. Though, after punching him last night, I suppose I deserved it.

 Still didn't make me any less mad.

 The Hokage started off with the spiel about how being a sensei was a big responsibility and that we were in charge of the next generation of shinobi, which then turned into a big motivational speech about the importance of genin. I sighed as I stuffed my hands into my pockets, if I thought Fugaku-sama was a long winded old fool, he had nothing on the Sandaime Hokage. Sometimes I wondered if Lord Hiruzen was Hokage because he was boring enough to talk his enemies to death.

 I tucked my chin in and closed my eyes, half listening to the Hokage as he informed all the jounin present that we could use whatever teaching methods we wished, as long as it was ethical. I smirked at that. The Uchiha clan was famous for getting as close to unethical as we could and still not breaking the rules. Still, if Fugaku learned that I was torturing his duckass son, he'd kill me. Worse, Itachi-san would be after my blood as well. The whole clan knew how much Itachi loved his little brother. I really didn't need the Uchiha Prodigy and ANBU Black Ops captain out to kill me.

 I'd have to keep my teachings ethical to all my students, or it would seem like I was playing favoritism towards Sasuke. And that was something I didn't want anyone accusing me of.

  Chapter 3 Enter Team 7!

“Morning Sasuke-kun... mind if I sit next to you?” A girlish voice said.

 The Uchiha blinked and looked away from his conversation with his cousin, Netsui. His classmate Sakura stood at the end of the table, her hands clasped in front of her flat chest. Sasuke's right eye gave a miniscule twitch. He really didn't understand why all the fangirls flocked to him when they could easily chase after Netsui, who was easily more willing than Sasuke.

 Netsui sighed and threaded his fingers behind his head. He didn't understand why Sasuke got all the fangirls. Even his twin sister Nerai was a stupid fangirl! Though, Netsui didn't want his own sister to be his fangirl, that was just wrong. Still, it was unfair that the son of the Uchiha clan leader got all the girls and not one of the other boys got an admirer. Netsui watched with mild interest as the fangirls all got into a fight about who should get to sit next to Sasuke; even if Netsui would never know the bliss of girls fighting over him, it was still fun to watch.

 Sasuke glanced back at his pouting cousin, fully intending to ignore his rowdy fangirls. They would all just stand there and argue until Iruka-sensei came in, there was no point in listening to the girls squabble about who came in first and got first dibs on the chair next to Sasuke.

 “Aniki says they divide us into three man teams. Who do you think you'll get paired with?” Sasuke asked.

 The brown haired Uchiha shrugged as his eyes lingered on the crowd of fangirls, “I don't know. Iruka-sensei probably has our teams already figured out. We can't help who we get paired up with. It could be a complete randomization...”

 “Or it could be a complex system,” Sasuke finished, “But if that's true, then how would they separate us?”

 Netsui shrugged again. It was his nervous habit, every single time his mother yelled at him about something, he just started shrugging. Honestly, he couldn't name what was making him nervous at the moment. Netsui got along fine with Sasuke. They were friends, being the top two smartest students in the academy, plus the only two Uchiha in their class, not counting Netsui's boy crazed sister. “Possibly by age or personality. Skill would be kind of dumb, since the lowest of the class would be paired with each other and never get anything done.” Netsui answered Sasuke's question.

 Sasuke frowned, that made sense, but he felt that he was missing information. As an Uchiha, he didn't like not having all the facts. When he had asked his brother, all Itachi said was that he would be placed on a three man squad with a jounin sensei. Then there was yesterday...

 Sasuke folded his hands in front of his mouth as he pondered his cousin's actions from yesterday. Yanagi-itoko had given him such an evil grin, it had almost given him chills. Almost. That police officer knew something about today, the way her eyes gleamed spoke as much. And it didn't bode well with Sasuke at all from the looks of it.

 A foot landing on the desk in front of him startled Sasuke out of his thoughts. There was that dead last idiot, Naruto, squatting in front of Sasuke and glaring. Sasuke's eyes narrowed instantly. Normally he didn't care what the idiot did; and Sasuke was never impolite to Naruto or Mikoto would flay his hide. Still, there were certain boundaries that Naruto clearly didn't understand; and that was unforgivable.

 “Naruto! Hey stop glaring at Sasuke-kun!” Sakura shouted.

 Naruto looked around at Sakura confused. The blonde boy honestly didn't understand what Sakura saw in Sasuke. Sure, the midnight blue haired Uchiha wasn't as rude as some of the boys in their class, but he was still a prick to a degree. Naruto looked back at the impassive Uchiha in front of his face. Sasuke's eyes narrowed just a fraction of an inch, enough to be classified as a glare.

 It went down hill from there...

 vvv Normal POV vvv

 I was the only one who burst out laughing when Naruto and Sasuke accidentally kissed. I could just see all the blackmail use I could get out of it. Those two would practically be my slaves, and then if some dimwitted girl should fall in love with those bozos, I was so bringing this incident back up. I might even inform Sasuke's family just for the reactions I would get from Fugaku-sama and Itachi-san.

 Maybe there was justice in the world.

 The Hokage sighed, “As usual... Naruto is right in the middle of some kind of trouble.” The old man commented when Sasuke's fangirls proceeded to beat Naruto within an inch of his life. Honestly I was still dying over the fact that my younger cousin's 'first kiss' was stolen by a rowdy boy, I really didn't care what a bunch of vain brats did to the Kyuubi kid.

 Kakashi gave me a slightly annoyed look out of the corner of his eye and elbowed me in the side to get my attention. I bit down on my first knuckle to muffle the snickers still leaking out as the Hokage went on some long winded last minute detailing about some special team that Asuma was getting. It took the entirety of Hiruzen's speech, which was saying something, but I finally got my giggles under control.

 Hiruzen-sama motioned to one of the shinobi officials sitting beside him. The nondescript person, seriously I couldn't even tell if it was female or male, passed out even more packets to the jounin. The Lord Hokage explained as his assistant distributed the stacks of papers, “These are a basic outline of the students you will be assigned. It contains a brief overview of their academics, personality, and abilities so you can adjust your training to fit their goals.”

 I couldn't help but scoff softly at that. 'Adjust your training' my ass. The Uchiha didn't adjust training, the students adjusted to the training or they failed and became a disgrace to the clan. Still, I had to keep reminding myself that the parents of my students would murder me- Fugaku being at the front of the line- if I mistreated their brats.

 Rolling my eyes because I could, I reached into the large envelope as all the other jounin did the same, and pulled out a small stack of thick paper. Dropping the envelope to the floor now that I didn't need it, I began leaving through the pages. I skipped completely over Sasuke's overview, if he was anything like a normal Uchiha then I shouldn't have a problem teaching him.

 My mouth hit the floor when I saw the remaining teammates of the new Team 7.

 Screw justice, the karma demons hated me again.

 vvv 3rd Person vvv

 “...All the genin will be grouped into three man squads, each squad will be lead by a jounin- an elite ninja.” Iruka-sensei finished his little speech.

 Sakura and Ino perked up at the same time and the same thoughts ran through their minds. A three man squad... that meant that some lucky girl would be placed on Sasuke's team! Ino recovered first and quickly pulled her aloof mask back down on her expression. “Well someone's gotta be on Sasuke-kun's group, I wonder who it will be...?”

 The pink haired girl sitting in front of her glanced slightly over her shoulder and said coolly, “I don't know.” As if the thought of anyone other than Sakura herself didn't really matter to her, when in fact it did. She was bound and determined to be on Sasuke's team if it killed her, she was certain of it. After all, Sakura was smart enough to figure out how the teams were divided. It was a sure win that she would be on Sasuke-kun's team!

 Iruka-sensei grinned, “We separate the squads by strength and abilities, that will determine who you are teamed up with.” See? Just like Sakura predicted! Because she was the most intelligent she would be placed with the strongest fighter, which was Sasuke. The only problem was that whoever was the weakest would also be put on the team, to balance them out. Sakura glanced to her right to see Naruto looking deep in thought, most likely she would be placed with him as well. What a nightmare!

  Iruka-sensei lifted the papers that listed the teams and called out in a louder voice, “I will now announce the squads!”

 All across the class room, each new genin were going through their own mental list, trying to puzzle out who they would be teamed with, all the while being sure to listen for when their names were called. Sasuke sighed and folded his hands in front of his mouth, this wasn't good. He was one of the strongest in the class; as was his cousin Netsui, so that meant they probably wouldn't be put on a team. Well there went his one chance at being comfortable with his new team. Now he would actually have to speak the people he normally wouldn't, and the kunoichi would probably be a fangirl. Sasuke shuddered at the thought.

 “Team 7: Uzumaki Naruto...” Iruka said and the blonde boy perked up. This was his team, Naruto could only hope that they wouldn't hold him back or anything, since he was a kickass ninja! “Hyuuga Hinata...” The shy little heiress almost fainted then and there. Her wish had been granted, she was on the team with Naruto-kun! “and Uchiha Sasuke.”

 Sakura and Ino stared at the sensei with open mouths, they had been so sure that they would be the ones on Sasuke's team! It was almost fool proof, after all they were both the smartest in the class... in their own opinions. What was worse, they really couldn't begrudge Hinata for being on Sasuke's team. She was probably the only girl that wasn't a fangirl of Sasuke's. She probably didn't like any boy!

 Iruka continued, not even paying attention to the drama unfolding in front of him, “Next Team 8: Haruno Sakura... Inuzuka Kiba... and Aburame Shino,” Sakura paled at the thought of being on a team with the rowdy dog boy and the creepy bug boy. Still that wasn't as bad as being on the team with Naruto! At least she lucked out on that. Sensei just continued ripping apart dreams and making some of them come true, “Now Team 10: Yamanaka Ino... Nara Shikamaru... and Akimichi Chouji.” Ino nearly fainted. She was on a team with the laziest genin in the class and the fattest?! How did she end up with such weirdos?!

 Before Iruka could continue, Naruto stood up with an air of indignity, “Iruka-sensei! Why does someone as powerful as me have to be on a team with a slug like Sasuke?!” Sakura glared at him, fire burning in her green eyes, but Iruka spoke before Naruto Beat-down Two could commence.

 “Because Sasuke has the highest scores in all the graduating students. Naruto... you had the worst scores,” Iruka said with no mercy towards his surrogate little brother. The whole class, mostly Sasuke fangirls and a few Naruto-haters, laughed loudly at the blonde. “To be a balanced team,” Iruka continued over the laughing kids, cutting their mirth off quickly, “we put the best student with the worst student.”

 Naruto growled while Sasuke looked coolly out the window. Mikoto might kill him later, but Sasuke couldn't help but say, “Just make sure you don't get in my way, loser.” Oh yeah, Kaa-chan was definitely going to murder Sasuke. She couldn't stand her children saying anything mean about Naruto. Though... Mikoto never gave a reason why.

 “Hey what did you say?!”

 “Hard of hearing?” Sasuke retorted, slightly amused and the whole class burst out laughing again. Sakura tried to come to Sasuke's defense, but Iruka-sensei cleared his throat and ended all mischief.

 As the laughter slowly dwindled down, Iruka informed the new genin, “After lunch, you'll meet your new jounin teachers. Until then, class dismiss-”

 Wham!

 vvv Normal POV vvv

 Everyone whirled around when I slammed the classroom door open. Even Iruka, who should have been able to sense my chakra signatures, looked surprised. I still had a few minutes before my life officially became a living hell, maybe I should pull a classic Obito and screw with the minds of the impressionable brats, which included Iruka even though he was older than me. Without hesitation I started making jounin level hand signals telling the members of Team 7 to meet me on the roof.

 No one moved. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

 “Uh... Uchiha-san... may I help you?” Iruka said hesitantly. He didn't seem to know who I was, otherwise he'd be a lot more fearful to have one of the two hot headed Uchiha in his classroom. Still he knew enough to know that having an Uchiha in the room was enough to exercise caution. Being genin teammates with Shisui must have taught him that. Even an Uchiha as goofy as Shisui could still be unpredictable. I almost grinned, but didn't to keep my emotionless expression in check.

 I rolled my eyes instead, “Honestly, are you all so stupid that you don't know a single jounin hand sign?” I asked, the contempt in my voice wasn't forced.

 The Kyuubi brat took offense to that of course, “Hey! I'm not an idiot, I'm going to be Hokage someday, ya know!” I nearly laughed at that and mentally added yet another name to the list of Hokage wannabes. First Minato-san, though I didn't mind Nii-san's sensei being Hokage, then Obito, for a while Shisui had the dream too–before the drama of the failed Uchiha coup d'état–and now the Kyuubi brat.

 Iruka was sweatdropping, “Er, Uchiha-san, they're only genin. They shouldn't have to-” He tried to explain.

 My eyes cut to the chunnin and he stopped talking, “I knew half the sign book by the time I graduated, and I became a genin at the age of nine. That's no excuse.” So I was bragging, so what? After growing up with a braggart crybaby for a brother, I was surprised I wasn't bragging more often then I actually did, which was still rare. Of course, my knowledge of hand signs probably came from a certain emotionally stunted silver haired ninja robot; but I wasn't going to tell anyone that.

 Iruka tried to speak up, but he was silenced each time I pointed out why this graduating class was lesser than most classes in the past. It was almost scary how wimpy these kids were compared to past genin. Iruka was looking more and more flustered while the brats shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

 Waving a hand, I dismissed the argument, “Whatever. Team 7 is to report to the roof, now. You're training begins.”

 The three genin soon to be under my thumb paled, “B-but... what about lunch?” Naruto asked, tears starting to prick his bright blue eyes. My eyebrows pinched together in a frown, why did I get the feeling that food and this kid was going to be a major problem?

 “I'm your jounin sensei. What I say goes... and I say get your asses up to the roof now or suffer.” I started to turn away, but not before I noticed that the three Uchiha genin in the room were slumping down in their seats, as if ashamed to be associated with me.

 Disrespect towards a hungover hot tempered Uchiha meant someone had a death wish.

 “SIT UP STRAIGHT YOU UCHIHA HEATHENS! WHAT, WERE YOU RAISED IN A BARN?!” I roared and got the extreme satisfaction of not only seeing the three dark haired kids pop back up, but everyone, including Iruka, stiffen at the command. “Now Team 7, you've got thirty seconds to get your worthless asses on the roof or I fail the lot of you.” I said more calmly, probably mentally scaring a lot of the brats. I wondered if Iruka was going to look into getting me committed to a jounin sanity test.

 As I shunshined out of the room and onto the roof, I smirked. If I was going to make this any more bearable, a few more required sanity test shouldn't be too much of a consequence.

 “Twenty-eight seconds, you're cutting it close.” I said mildly when the door to the academy roof burst open and my three precious little genin came tumbling out. For having ran up four flights of stairs in 28 seconds, I was slightly impressed that none of them were winded. But then Sasuke and the Hyuuga were clan kids and were already conditioned for harsher training exercises, and Naruto had run from many shinobi in the past during his pranks it was no surprise that he had stamina as well.

 I wordlessly motioned for them to take a seat, and spoke as they were flopping down on the ground, well Naruto flopped the other two sat down more gracefully. “Alright, since we're stuck together, tell me a little about yourselves. Name, likes, dislikes, hobbies, dreams... crap like that.” I said dismissively, not even bothering to look at the three brats.

 The Hyuuga heiress raised her hand timidly. I raised an eyebrow at her juvenile behavior and rolled my eyes, making her blush even more than she already was. Exasperated I called on her and the shy Hyuuga stuttered out, “W-wi-will you g-g-go first s-s-s-sen-sensei?” I narrowed my eyes a fraction, first thing I was training her in was speech.

 “Fine. My name is Uchiha Yanagi, and yes I am related to Sasuke. I'm his cousin, as much as I don't want to be,” I added when I saw Naruto's confused face. “I like my Police Force patrol, which I was forced to retire from. I dislike stuttering timid kids,” Hinata's face lit up like a thermometer, “overly annoying blondes,” Naruto was too dumb to get the reverence towards him. I really shouldn't be that surprised, “younger family members... just kids in general.” Sasuke's dark eyes narrowed into an almost glare. I was tempted to return it with a full Uchiha Glare, but I didn't want to give him a heart attack.

 His family would kill me.

 “I also don't like my older brother or Uchiha Shisui, the clan in general, being a jounin sensei... and many other things. My hobbies... I have an indefinite amount of hobbies and none are your business. My dream is to get out of this hell that my clan leader forced me in and get back to my patrol.” Sasuke looked like he wanted to question me about my dislike for the clan, but I was already pointing at Hinata, “Stuttering kid, go.”

 Of course she turned an unhealthy shade of red. I was beginning to wonder if there was any blood left in her body or if it was all showing in her face. “M-m-my name is Hy-Hyuuga H-H-Hinata. I like... m-my f-fa-family a-and...” she got even brighter, “cinnamon rolls!” She finished in a squeaky tone. I raised an eyebrow at that, obviously she had been about to say something else. “I-I-I... don't real-really d-dis-dislike a-a-any-anything. My ho-hob-hobby i-i-is p-pres-pressing fl-flowers. And m-my d-d-d-dream is t-t-t-to-to be a g-gre-great n-nin-ninja!” I was almost tempted to make a fake snoring sound. How boring can a brat get?

 I was definitely signing her up for a speech therapist first thing in the morning. Even if she was a Hyuuga, this girl was my only semblance to sanity. Or she would be if I could cure her of that nasty stutter. I pressed my left fingers to my forehead as I pointed to the Kyuubi brat with my right hand, “Go.”

 “ALRIGHT!” The blonde haired idiots said and started moving his headband up and down like a weirdo, “I'm Uzumaki Naruto! I like instant ramen in a cup, and I really like the ramen Iruka-sensei gave me. But I hate the three minutes I have to wait for the ramen to cook. My hobby is eating different kinds of ramen and comparing them. And my future dream is... to be the greatest Hokage! That way everyone will start respecting me!”

 I couldn't help it, I facepalmed. This kid blabbed about nothing but ramen and then suddenly drops a bomb like wanting to be the next Hokage?! And I thought Obito was bad. I made a mental note to never introduce the two if I could help it. They would drive me over the edge if they started talking. Sighing, I waved a hand towards my relative, “Go, Uchiha brat.”

 Sasuke was sitting in his cool pose, where he got it from I would never know. Itachi and Shisui weren’t the ones to teach him, I knew that much! He glared at the name I gave him, “My name is Uchiha Sasuke. I don't particularly like or dislike anything.” I bet any fangirls hanging around the area were sobbing by now. A small joy to me. “My hobbies include walking and training with my Aniki. I don't have a dream, because I will make it into a reality. I'm going to become strong enough to beat my brother and be the strongest Uchiha in the clan.” Sasuke's eyes staring at me in an open challenge.

 I laughed out right and nearly fell off the railing, “Oh that's rich! Someone is delusional!” I shrieked. All three poor little genin looked confused, with just a smidgen of indignity on Sasuke's part. “Sorry, idiot, but I don't think your dream will become a 'reality.'”

 My younger cousin frowned, “How so?” He growled. Apparently someone didn't like being teased.

 Leaning forward I crossed my arms over my chest, “Simply because Itachi-san isn't the strongest Uchiha in the clan.” Boy I wish I had a camera to snap a picture of Sasuke's expression. I could totally use it as more blackmail.

 “T-t-then w-w-who is?” Hinata asked for Sasuke, since he was still shell shocked that his Nii-san wasn't the strongest in our clan, as he clearly believed. I wondered if Itachi was the one who put the idea in his head, or if it was simply idol worship.

 “Shisui.”

 Sasuke actually sputtered, “What?! You're telling me that goofball is the strongest?” The poor boy asked incredulous. I laughed again, even though Sasuke practically grew up around some atypical Uchiha like my brother and Shisui, he was still a typical arrogant ass. So it was ten times more funny when his facade cracked.

 I sneered at the still disbelieving boy, “Believe it or not, yes. Itachi is better in skill, true, but Shisui has something going for him that no other living person has.” I said in a mysterious tone. All three genin leaned in, obviously wanting to know the secret. Even Hinata was looking eager about it. I smirked and shook my head, “Nuh-uh. That's a secret that only people with the Uchiha Kekke Genkai can know.”

 Naruto looked confused, “What's a Kekke Genkai?” He mumbled under his breath.

 I was going to give him a sarcastic answer, but Sasuke ignored the question to say, “I will have the Kekke Genkai one day, so you can tell me.”

 I held up a finger, “Ah-ah-ah... Let me correct that previous statement: Only people who have activated the Kekke Genkai and can use it effectively in battle can know the secret.” Sasuke pouted but didn't push the subject. At least he knew the requirements to unlock his Sharingan, otherwise I have no doubt he would be standing up and shouting that he would unlock the Sharingan no matter what, just to learn the secret behind Shisui's reputation.

 Oh wait... that's Naruto shtick.

 Speaking of the Kyuubi brat, he was standing and shouting, “What is a Kekke Genkai?! And how can I get one?”

 I scoffed, “Idiot, a Kekke Genkai is something you're born with. It's a bloodline trait that you can only get from your family, a tool to help you fight as a ninja basically.” I said, dumbing it down so that a two year old, or Naruto in this case, could understand. Before any of the brats could say anything else, I pushed off the rail, “Okay. We have our first mission tomorrow, be at training ground six at five a.m. and bring your ninja gear. Bye, brats.” Before any of them could respond, I shunshined away, ignoring Naruto's shouts to come back and explain myself.

 He should really learn that Uchiha never explain themselves, especially since he had Sasuke and me on the team.

  Chapter 4: The Test

“YANAGIIIIIIIIIII!!!” Obito screeched. I sighed irritatedly and looked up from my book just as my brother came barreling through my bedroom door, a bath towel wrapped around his waist and sopping wet.

 I sighed again, this time in exasperation, and threw my left arm over my eyes, pointing towards my personal bathroom with my right hand, “Underneath the counter.” I said dully. It was pretty bad that this was a common occurrence in our house. Both Obito and I had come to an agreement that each of us were in charge of our own expenses and that the only time we pooled our money together on was if it influenced both of us. That being said, my brother had a nasty habit of forgetting to buy more shampoo.

 Nii-san had just better thank his lucky stars that I didn't like girly scented hair products.

 Still I got a nice deal out of it. Every time Obito forgot about shampoo, he bought me a bag of candy. One thing the both of us had in common was our unnatural sweet tooth. Most of the Uchiha clan had a sweet tooth as well, but no where near as bad as mine and Obito's. Candy was a part of my brother's and my necessities whereas it was only a treat to the rest of the clan.

 While my brother cursed and rummaged around in my bathroom I called out, “I'm leaving early in the morning.”

 Nii-san's voice was suddenly clearer, meaning he probably had come back into my room, “Why? You're not going on a date are you?”

 If my eyes were open I would have rolled them. Only my brother would automatically assume that I was going on a date. I bet he wondered if I was going on a date every time I stepped outside the house. “No. I have to teach teamwork to my group of genin brats. You know how that is.”

 “You failed your test if I remember.” Obito teased. It was true, I had gotten so irritated with the dead last of my graduating class, who had been on my team, that I actually punched his lights out even though our sensei told us not to attack each other. I was sent back to the academy immediately and had to wait another year. Really it was the idiot's fault, he shouldn't have assumed that since I was eight and he was twelve that he knew more than me. Because of that jerk, I had to graduate at the age of nine.

 “And you are probably the only one who passed with flying colors. It's rare not to fail the first time you know...” I growled back at Obito.

 The one eyed Uchiha snorted, “You're just hoping that those kids fail, aren't you?”

 “Would you go finish your shower?”

 “You're just proving my point by changing the subject~!” Obito ran out of my room, his footsteps fast and light, before I could even cock my elbow back to launch my book at him. Damn it, I hated it when he had the sense to get the hell out of dodge!

 I sighed and marked my place before setting the book down on my nightstand. I would have to get up early tomorrow morning so I could train a few brats, which meant my late night habits were probably gone for good. Pouting slightly I turned off my lamp and rolled over, pulling my covers up to my chin.

 Just as I was beginning to drift off, I heard a crash followed immediately by, “DAMN IT! YANAGI GET IN HERE AND CLEAN THIS MESS UP!”

 I glared at the wall my bed was pushed up against. I seemed to forget that my night owl tendencies weren't of my own making. My brother, curse him, forced me into the habit. I threw back the covers and yelled back, “Alright you big crybaby! If you weren't so incompetent, I'd make you do it yourself!”

 I'm sure the rest of the Uchiha clan could hear us yelling at each other all night long.

 vvv

 The moment five a.m. hit, my three precious genin showed up. Hinata and Naruto stumbling with weariness while Sasuke was wide awake and alert. Point for the Uchiha. I glanced at them, “You're on time.” I said mildly. Naruto grinned despite his exhaustion, he seemed pleased at the compliment. I bookmarked the book I was reading and stood from my place on the ground, tucking away the blue bound slim book. “Which means... you're late.”

 Cue the confusion on all three of the preteens' faces. It made my day.

 I held up a finger, “First rule of ninja: Timing is everything. When out on the field, an enemy might set a trap for you. If you were to arrive before he does, then you have the advantage. Same goes for tardiness, being late will lower your enemy's caution and thus give you an opening.” I could not believe I was lecturing these brats, that was the Hokage's job! I glared down at the genin in front of me, letting a little killer intent slip through so they were frightened enough, “But if you ever alive late while in my team I'll skin you alive! Understood?”

 “H-hai, sensei!” All three of the brats stuttered out, balking under my gaze. I felt proud that even someone like Sasuke was effected. But then, I had heard that he was more of a softie than his brother.

 Straightening I smiled, no doubt scaring them out of their wits with my sudden change in mood, perfect. “Okay, then we'll start the mission.”

 Naruto dropped his scared expression like a hot tin plate and immediately leapt forward, “What's the mission? What's the mission? What? What? What?” He was actually bouncing around in his excitement. When he got too close to me I pressed my fingers to his forehead like Obito did to me and sent him to the ground.

 “You're going on a treasure hunt.”

 “Really?! That is so cool! Is it some long lost diamond? Or a cursed ruby? Oh! Did a princess lose her crown and we're having to look for it?!” Did this kid never shut up? I made a mental note to grab Obito's numbing salve. Maybe it would numb the Kyuubi brat's mouth enough that he couldn't talk.

 I poked him in the forehead again, “No... you don't get to know what the object is, that's the point of the exercise. Here are some clues you can use to figure the object out.” I passed out plain white envelopes to the three genin. Before they could rip into them and start the 'mission' I continued, “you must find the object by noon or you get no lunch. Also, the last person to find the object will fail and goes back to the academy.”

 More confusion, and some despair from Naruto about the time limit, “W-w-w-what do y-y-yo-you m-me-mean, s-s-s-sen-sensei?” Hinata stuttered out.

 Naruto was squinting his eyes up again, “Yeah? What's this about failing?! We're already genin, you can't send us back to the Academy!” He moved his Haiti-ate to reflect the rising sun to prove his point.

 I gave him a cruel smile, “Oh can't I? Let me explain then. Of the twenty-seven graduates, only nine will be accepted as genin. The other eighteen will not make the cut and be sent back to the academy. Your chance at staying genin is at least thirty-four percent, and it's all up to me.” Of all their reactions, Naruto's was the best. His eyes bugged out in surprise and his mouth dropped to the ground. Hinata just started swaying where she sat, as if she were about to faint, and Sasuke glared at me.

 Sasuke was the smart one and asked, “Alright, how do we convince you to let us stay genin?”

 “By passing this little mission I'm telling you about. Now stop interrupting or I'll fail you anyway.” I couldn't really do that, but the genin didn't know that. Until they actually passed my test, if they did, I was going to milk the threat of sending them back to the academy for all its worth.

 I waited for a moment to see if they would say anything, and when they didn't I continued, “You can fight each other for the clues, since all three are needed to figure out just what the item is. Also, once you figure out the object, you need to find it next and present it to me. And I'll be nice since you are just kids,” They relaxed slightly, or more than slightly in Naruto's case, “if you best me in battle, I'll tell you what and where the object is,” Cue the tensing back up again. “Remember: you have to figure out the clues and find the object all before noon or I will tie you to something and eat lunch in front of you. Ready... begin!”

 As I predicted the blonde idiot came charging after me, his fist raised with a pathetic battle cry. I rolled my eyes and kicked him away easily, sending him crashing into a tree. Hinata and Sasuke had already leapt out of sight, probably to figure out the clues on their own. I knew that Sasuke was too stubborn to figure out the object of the test, he would want to find the object with only the one clue I had given him just to prove himself. Hinata... she was a wild card. The Hyuuga heiress could either figure out the point of this exercise or she could be like Sasuke and try to accomplish things on her own.

 Naruto however... I had thrown in the option to attack me solely for his benefit. I knew the knucklehead would attack me, his overconfidence would get in his way. Besides I had entertainment while I waited for lunch.

 vvv 3rd Person~ Sasuke vvv

 When he was far enough away from Yanagi-sensei, Sasuke halted and pulled the envelope out of his shorts' pocket. He frowned down at the slip of paper.

 Tis erhe, uoy othrebhos-me diiot. Htis odec si oto arhd rfo yuo.

 The message was just a bunch of scrabbled letters. Clearly Yanagi-sensei knew that Sasuke would be able to decode the message, it was a simple scramble code that any three year old could figure out. Quickly the midnight blue haired Uchiha set to work. The hyphen in the fourth word threw him for a moment, until he realized Yanagi had probably put it in there for that purpose. What the message actually said made Sasuke pissed.

 Sit here, you botherso-me idiot. This code is too hard for you.

 What kind of clue was that?!

 vvv 3rd Person~ Hinata vvv

 When Yanagi-sensei said begin, Hinata immediately dove for cover in the underbrush of the forest surrounding the training ground. She watched in fascination as Naruto-kun lashed out at their sensei bravely, and then in horror when Yanagi-sensei kicked the blonde boy away with ease. Hinata had contemplated in helping Naruto, but she was too weak to stand up to a jounin, especially one who was so cruel.

 Instead the timid little Hyuuga heiress pulled out her clue and read over it.

 Tall and straight like a tree am I, but no leaves or fruit I bear.

 Hinata blinked. It was a riddle, and a hard one by the looks of it. Hinata's clue could mean anything! Anything that was tall and not a tree, that is. Maybe if she got the other clues it would help, but she didn't want to attack her teammates! Hinata wouldn't last a second against Sasuke, and she wasn't going to attack Naruto for no reason.

 The pale eyed girl glanced back at her sensei as the Uchiha woman once again threw Naruto over her shoulder and laughed as he struggled to his feet. There was something missing, something that Yanagi had said. 'The last person to find the object is failed and goes back to the academy.' Hinata frowned. If that were true, it would be better for all three of them could find the object together so no one was first or last.

 Hinata gasped as realization dawned on her, that was what Yanagi wanted! Sensei was pitting the team against each other purposefully to see if anyone could figure out that the point was teamwork! That was why Team 7 was allowed to attack each other, to push the thoughts of teamwork further away. Yanagi had said that they would need all three clues to figure out the object they were trying to find, it was the only hint that Yanagi-sensei had given them.

 Now if Hinata could only work up her courage to tell her findings to the two boys in her team. The Hyuuga girl whimpered a little at the thought. They could try and attack her before she even had a chance to explain.

 vvv Normal POV vvv

 I smiled when I heard Hinata gasp. So she must have figured it out. My respect meter inched up a few pegs for the girl. She didn't have any male ego or pride to get in her way of thoughts. Still, what she would do now, that was the question.

 “YAAAAAAAAA!! Don't get distracted, sensei!” Naruto yelled multiple times from his shadow clone jutsu. I rolled my eyes and made a few quick hand signs with precision. I took a deep breath then blew between my thumb and forefinger. With a roar, the great fireball jutsu took out all shadow clones in front of it.

 I felt something hard connect with my back and I stumbled forward with a grunt, losing my concentration on the fireball. Cursing I started to turn my head to look over my shoulder at the little brat. He caught me off guard! Not even Obito in his pranking moods could accomplish that feat. Angry, I reached up and pulled the Kyuubi brat off of my back and flung him across the clearing.

 Naruto somehow was joyful in spite of being thrown a great distance, “Ha! I got a hit! Now tell me what the object is and where it is!”

 “No.”

 “WHAAAAT?! You said you would if I won!” Naruto shrieked.

 I glared at him, “I said if you beat me in battle. You only landed a hit,” I slowly started walking towards him. It stung my pride, both as an Uchiha and jounin, that some little blonde haired brat was able to land a hit on me. I wasn't really known for taking blows and turning the other cheek. Towering over the little genin I spoke, my tone, which had been amused until now, had a sharp cutting edge to it, “you rush in blindly and attack without strategy. That blow was a lucky shot, and it won't happen again.”

 Turning away from the kid I waved a hand, “Now, stop wasting my time and try to figure out that clue of yours.” I shunshined away before Naruto could attack, as I knew he probably would.

 vvv 3rd Person~ Naruto vvv

 Damn that frizzy haired lady! Naruto pouted and crossed his arms, it wasn't fair! He should have won, but his sensei was too stubborn to admit her defeat at his hands. Naruto could tell by the look on her face that the blow had taken her by surprise. If she hadn't reacted as quickly as she did, Frizzy-sensei would be on the ground!

 Naruto yanked out the clue from his jumpsuit and ripped the envelope open. Maybe the clue was super easy and he could guess it immediately. The look on Yanagi-sensei's face would be hilarious when Naruto showed up with the object before lunch. Naruto chuckled to himself as he imagined the expression of complete surprise and awe.

 My eyes glow red when I am mad or threatened.

 …What?! What did that mean? Was this some kind of insane creepy riddle that he had to figure out?! Was the object a vampire or something? Naruto had heard that some vampire's eyes glowed red when they drank blood. Naruto began to panic a little, he didn't want to fight a vampire! He had hard enough time beating Yanagi-sensei.

 RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!

 Naruto was torn between feeling relief and despair that the alarm had gone off. Now he wouldn't have to face the vampire, but–his stomach growled and Naruto groaned, remembering that Yanagi said no lunch for the person who hadn't found the vampire.

 vvv Normal POV vvv

 “The three of you are a... Bunch. Of. Idiots!” I shouted when all three genin lined up at the starting point. I was crying on the inside at the stupidity of the team I had been saddled with. Why was the only one to figure out the mission the shyest? I hadn't even done the bell test, which was probably the hardest teamwork exercise, like Kakashi-san usually did. In fact, I had given Team 7 the easiest and they still failed!

 Hinata was the only one looking abash. Naruto looked miserable, probably had something to do with the sounds his stomach was making, and Sasuke glared at me hotly. If I wasn't in such a foul mood I would have asked if he liked my clue to him.

 I paced in front of them, “I practically told you this treasure hunt was a teamwork exercise, but you all are too stupid to see that!” I spun to face the team and zeroed in on Sasuke's petulant face, “Sasuke, you were too busy trying to succeed with your one clue you seemed to forget that you needed all three of the clues to find the object.”

 Naruto got over his starving state to laugh at the slightly pouting Sasuke, “Ha ha! Teme you're so stupid!”

 I glared at the blond, “You, Naruto, are probably the stupidest of the three.” I snapped.

 “Hey!”

 “You were too busy trying to fight me to even pay attention to your clue. Had I not practically ordered you to, I doubt you would have even looked at it! I am a jounin, you dumbass, I cannot be taken down so easily by a genin. You're actions were lazy and stupid.” I growled menacingly. Naruto had the smarts not to say anything. I glared at the team as a whole again, “Hinata was the only one to figure out that this exercise was teamwork driven, but she was too much of a coward to tell you two idiots!”

 Naruto leapt to his feet, “Hey! Don't call Hinata a coward! She's just shy.” The blonde defended. I noticed that Hinata's blush turned darker almost immediately. I spared her a curious glance despite my anger, such a strange child she was. Not only was Hinata extremely shy and weak for a clan kid, but she also seemed to have a major crush on Naruto of all people.

 Still, I was glad I didn't have a squealing Sasuke fangirl on my hands.

 While distracted with my thoughts, Sasuke stood up to, “You should not pick on the shyest of the team simply because she poses no resistance to you.” He said, rather calmly, but I could tell by the way his dark eyes glittered that my little cousin was about as pissed as Naruto. Hinata looked between her two teammates, seemingly surprised that she was being defended by the both of them.

 I raised a cool eyebrow, “Oh? Then what should I do, let her grow up as a shy coward perhaps?” I asked mildly.

 Sasuke gave me a rather impressive version of the infamous Uchiha Glare, “If anyone is the coward it's you. You spend your time picking on twelve year olds.”

 “Well I can't really yell at your father or the Hokage, Duckass, so deal with it.” I said dully. The three genin looked a little confused since they didn't know why exactly I was forced into this. Nor would they ever unless the case called for it. The near disaster that almost ended in the massacre of the Uchiha clan had been classified as an S-level secret, along with Naruto's jinchuuriki status. None of the younger generation, not even those of the Uchiha clan, knew about our planned revolt or that Itachi and Shisui stopped it. They didn't know that this whole team was an experiment to see if an Uchiha could effectively teach Konoha genin.

 “Whatever. You still are all idiots for not figuring out that teamwork is important or doing nothing about it.” I said, waving a hand to dismiss the subject. I really didn't need to go into that, or I'd be killed for spilling the beans.

 Naruto titled his head, “Why is teamwork important? Wouldn't people just hold you back?”

 I couldn't help but reach over and swat the brat upside the head. After listening to his protests for half a second, I did the same thing to shut him up and spoke before he could start yelling at me in renewal, “Teamwork is essential to everything. They don't hold you back, a team is family. Had you got together and shared the clues, you would have easily figured out the object.”

 “W-w-w-w-w-w-wha-what i-is-is the o-o-o-obj-obj-ect?” Oh great, yelling at Hinata seemed to make her stutter more. Just my luck.

 I smiled for the first time since the timer went off. “I'm the object.” Cue the three stunned faces.

 My little cousin frowned, “How does my clue point towards you? You just insulted me.” I was surprised that Naruto hadn't laughed, but one look at the blonde genin revealed that he was paling at a rabid pace. Soon the Kyuubi brat would be as pale as Sasuke and Hinata.

 “ 'Sit here, you bothersome idiot. This code is too hard for you.' That is the clue, correct?” I asked. Sasuke nodded, suspicion leaking into his eyes. I gave him a close eyed grin, “Did you happen to notice that 'bothersome' had a hyphen?” Another nod of confirmation. “I told you the code was too hard, and I was right.”

 “There was no code.” Sasuke said stubbornly.

 Shaking my head I held up a finger, “Technically there was, but I knew that–as an Uchiha–you would over think things. If you had simply looked at where the hyphen was placed you would notice that 'me' had been separated from 'bothersome'. Really, the answer if quite obviously stupid when you think about it.”

 Sasuke actually facepalmed and I genuinely laughed when he did so.

 I turned my attention back on the team as an whole and held up one finger, “I already explained Sasuke's clue. It was the most obvious, too obvious to tell the truth.” I held up a second finger, “Hinata's clue was a little more difficult. 'Tall and straight like a tree am I, but no leaves or fruit I bear.' I am extremely tall for a woman. Naruto's clue-”

 “Are you a vampire?!” Naruto chose then to shout, his eyes wide as he pointed an accusing finger at me. I blinked at him as did Sasuke and even Hinata.

 “...What?”

 “You're a vampire, aren't you! Are you going to drink out blood?!”

 “And where did you get that silly notion?”

 “The clue!”

 “What?!” I stared at the blonde kid. Granted his clue was a little creepy but still, how did he get vampire out of glowing red eyes?

 Naruto seemed to suddenly notice the looks his teammates were giving him. A blush marred his cheeks lightly and he ducked his head, “The uh... the clue. It said that your eyes glow red...” He mumbled.

 The younger Uchiha actually took pity on Naruto, “That's the Uchiha Kekke Genkai. Our eyes turn red sometimes to help in battle.” Sasuke explained. I was glad he didn't go in depth. There had once been a time when the sharingan was a clan secret, but after so many years it just became common knowledge. Still, the Uchiha didn't like explaining their Kekke Genkai unless absolutely necessary, that way there was less people trying to steal it.

 “...oh...”

 I sighed and shook my head, “You need to stop watching whatever it is you watch...” I said sadly. Then I grinned, this one full of evil intent. The genin hunkered down, obviously knowing that we were about to return to the failed exercise, “now... we're going to try this again, but it won't be as easy as the treasure hunt.” I said and waited for one of the genin to ask what I was planning for them to do.

 Finally Sasuke was the one who dared to ask, “What is it?”

 My grin grew wider, “You're going to prank my brother, Uchiha Obito.”

 I was very pleased the way Sasuke's skin turned a unhealthy pale color. If I thought he was pasty before, it was nothing compared to this. I was nearly shivering in excitement. Maybe having a genin team was fun after all, if I could get away with pranking the Uchiha Prankster.

  Chapter 5: Why Never to Prank Obito

“Who put you in charge, Teme?” Naruto whined the minute Sasuke tried to start planning their prank on his cousin.

 Sasuke glared at the blonde, “Obito is my cousin, I know his reputation.” The Uchiha boy said simply.

 “Ha! But I'm a prankster, so I should know what to do!”

 “You have no idea what Obito is capable of.”

 “So what?! Doesn't make you the leader!”

 I sighed exasperated and pinched the bridge of my nose. I should have known that the two boys were going to develop some kind of rivalry. Every team did it, even myself and one of my genin teammates had one. Although it was my teammate who was under the delusion that we had a rivalry, I had no interest in being a rival to anyone– especially not a civilian brat. I simply played along for the entertainment of watching the guy fail time and time again.

 If I remember correctly he retired from his shinobi career after losing the Chuunin Exams to me.

 As my two students continued to argue who should be the leader, I glanced down at the fidgeting Hyuuga heiress standing beside me, almost behind me. I guess it was time for some 'sensei-student' bonding time. “Hinata.” The girl looked up at me, her pale eyes wide with obvious fright. Mentally I sighed, maybe calling her a coward earlier was a bit much.

 “Y-y-yes, sensei?” She managed to stutter out, pressing her two forefingers together in a nervous habit.

 I swatted her hands down, “Stop that. First rule of being a kunoichi: don't show nervousness.” Hinata gripped her hands together behind her back, like a small child being scolded and nodded in a jerking manner, “Second, I'm putting you on teamwork duty. While the three of you are out pranking my brother, you're going to keep the boys from killing each other. Consider it your first lesson in asserting yourself.”

 Hinata paled and she looked down at her feet. I could see that she was gripping her hands tightly, as if she were trying to talk her courage up. I sighed and tapped the bottom of her chin, bringing her gaze to meet mine.

 “You will get over this nervous habit of yours, Hyuuga. Shy little kids don't make it in this career.” I said sternly. Hinata nodded quickly and I rolled my eyes. I was starting to wonder if she was only nodding so I would stop talking to her. “You can start by breaking those two up now.” I said and pointed at Sasuke and Naruto as they got in each other face.

 Hesitatingly Hinata shuffled towards the two fighting boys. I watched her closely as she neared Naruto and Sasuke, analyzing her ever move. “E-excuse me...” She said in a whisper. Of course the boys didn't hear her over their own loud voices.

 I groaned. Seems this was going to be harder than I thought. Putting my two index fingers to my mouth, I whistled loudly, making everyone in the vicinity cringe. My genin looked at me and I glared back, “Alright, pansies, if there's going to be that much of a fuss over team leader, I'll pick. Hinata is the leader,” Oh I would enjoy the looks of surprise from the three preteens for years to come. Still, before I could visualize those expressions again, I had to lay down ground rules, “She's also the person who's going to make sure you two don't fight. For this 'mission' to go successfully, you have to work together and be quiet! Any questions?” I didn't give them enough time to ask before I was continuing, “Good. Now when you're done, you can go home.”

 “How do you know if we pass or not?” Sasuke asked, a frown pulling his thin eyebrows low over his eyes.

 Grinning evilly, I tapped him on his Haiti-ate, “Trust me, I'll know. Good luck~! You're going to need it.”

 vvv 3rd Person~ Sasuke vvv

 The second Yanagi-sensei disappeared, Sasuke turned to his two teammates, “We need a plan of attack. Cousin Obito won't be an easy target.” He said. There was no way Sasuke would be able to retain his cool if he didn't think of this stupid childish test as an actual mission.

 Naruto glared at him, “Hey! Hinata is the leader! Stop trying to usurp her command!” Hinata blushed and looked away quickly, her whole face red. Sasuke rolled his eyes, it took him by surprise that the dobe hadn't caught on to Hinata's affections by now.

 “I'm surprise you even know what 'usurp' means.” Sasuke commented drily. Naruto pulled a hateful face, the corner of his mouth twitching in frustration.

 “G-guys! Please d-don-don't fight!” Hinata interrupted before Naruto could respond. Both boys looked away with equal sour looks. There were a few minutes of silence before Hinata spoke again, “S-S-Sas-Sasuke-san. W-what w-w-w-were you say-saying?”

 The Uchiha glanced at his female teammate, it wasn't often that any girl added the honorific -san to his name, most of the time it was -kun. Sasuke liked the change. Ignoring Naruto's pout, Sasuke explained his plan on pranking his older cousin.

 vvv Normal POV vvv

 “Yeah, so since I couldn't do the same test twice, I made them work on something completely different.” I said to Kakashi as we both sat in the shade of some random tree, boredly watching Asuma and his three new genin. We both had free time, since Kakashi already failed his team and mine were currently trying to impress me.

 Kakashi hummed as he read his favorite book of all time for the millionth time, “So what are they doing...?” He asked distractedly.

 “Pranking Obito.” I got a laugh when Kakashi nearly fell out of the tree branch he was lounging in. Quickly, too quickly for my liking, Kakashi managed to catch himself and prevent a blackmail worthy moment.

 “He's going to kill you.”

 “That's why I'm hanging out with you,” I said jokingly, “You love me too much to let my big bad brother murder me.”

 I only got a sigh from the Copy-nin. I knew what was going on in his mind. “You put up with me because I'm the only person in the universe who can get Obito to stop annoying you. Besides, I have years worth of blackmail on you.” I answered his unasked question.

 Kakashi gave me a dry look, “You're incorrigible.” He grumbled. I laughed at him. Of all people in Konoha, Kakashi was probably the only one I truly got along with. One could say that I saw Kakashi as another brother, only I liked this one more than my blood brother. I liked to think that he saw me as a little sister.

 He teased me like one.

 The white haired jounin leaned closer to me and gave me his famous eye-smile, “And I have plenty blackmail over you too.” He said cheerfully.

 Glaring I crossed my arms, “Shut up.” I grumbled, not wanting to talk anymore. I felt a finger poke my cheek and I whipped around to snap at it, but like always Kakashi pulled back before I could dig my teeth in his finger.

 “Your crush on me was so cute! Of all my fangirls, you were probably my favorite.” Kakashi teased.

 My glare intensified until I was giving him a full Uchiha Glare. Having been a teammate with a hothead like my brother and being Kakashi in general, of course he was immune to it. Damn man. “That was only a brief time, it was a phase I went through you idiot. Hero worship!” I defended myself hotly.

 Kakashi leaned back, satisfied that he had riled me up, and took his book out again, “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you'll actually believe it one day.”

 I crossed my arms and slouched against the tree trunk, “I'm going to sell your Icha Icha novels, jerk.”

 “I keep them in a safe.”

 “What? You're not still mad that I burned your last series, are you?”

 “...yes...”

 “You should have listened to Obito then. He tried to warn you.” I said dismissively, shrugging as if burning his books were inevitable. Which, considering my undying hatred for the perverted novels, it kind of was inevitable.

 “Like I'd ever trust anything Obito would say.” Kakashi growled, probably remembering one of the many instances where trusting the Uchiha Prankster got Kakashi into trouble. I grinned mentally, remembering a few memories myself. Poor Kakashi had to learn what all Uchiha knew the hard way.

 “I'm pretty sure that when it comes to Icha Icha, Obito means every word he says.” I said drily. There were two things Kakashi and Obito had in common: their habit of tardiness and their creepy obsession with the Icha Icha series.

 Kakashi snorted and crossed his arms, the closest thing he'd ever get to pouting, “He also likes to spoil the new books.”

 I held up my hands as if to defend myself and screwed my eyes up, “I don't want to know anything that goes on in those smutty books of yours! You and my brother can keep your perverseness to yourselves!” I snapped.

 My brother figure glanced at me, his single visible eye full of mischief. Well crap, I just dug myself into a hole. Kakashi opened his mouth, or at least I assumed by the way his face mask moved, to speak but someone beat him to it.

 “Are you two going to distract my team all day or what?”

 Kakashi and I looked down from our perches to see Asuma standing at the base of the tree giving us a rather stern look, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Behind him, his three genin were watching us curiously. If I remember correctly, the blonde girl was one of Sasuke's more adamant fangirls, but I wasn't for sure. Kakashi only dipped his head in greeting and buried his nose in his dirty orange book.

 “Sorry, Asuma” I said, but my tone wasn't apologetic. Asuma may be more powerful and older than me, but I was still an Uchiha. Arrogance was a hereditary trait that my clan was born with. I didn't respect anyone unless they absolutely deserved it. Kakashi, without looking up from his book, swatted me in the back of my head.

 I glared at him, but before I could say anything Asuma spoke again, “Could you take your argument somewhere else?” Even though the Sarutobi had asked it as a question, both Kakashi and I knew it was an order.

 Without saying a word, Kakashi stood and threw me over his shoulder like he used to when I was a kid. “Hey! Let me go, you scarecrow!” I shouted in indignity, but of course he ignored me.

 vvv 3rd Person vvv

 “Shisui have you seen Yanagi?” An irritated voice asked. Both Itachi and Shisui turned around to face Obito. To their complete surprise he was covered head to toe in honey; stray coils of ninja wire still wrapped around random places of his body.

 Shisui blinked, “Uh... Obito-senpai? What happened to you?” The Uchiha with long eyelashes asked, shocked to see his former Konoha Police mentor so... gooey.

 Obito was too busy glaring past the two men at the third in their company, who was trying to act as casual as he could. Itachi and Shisui followed the older Uchiha's gaze to Sasuke. Itachi frowned a little, obviously making the connection between Obito's honeyed state and his little brother's poorly accomplished innocent expression. “Sasuke, did you do this?” The Uchiha Prodigy asked in a passive voice.

 Sasuke, who could never lie when around his brother, looked down guiltily. Everyone could practically feel Obito's killer intent spike. Itachi dropped his stoic facade to glare at his cousin, not liking the potential threat to his little brother.

 Shisui on the other hand was staring at Sasuke with his head tilted. He really couldn't understand why Sasuke would do something like that, especially when it was uncalled for. As far as Shisui knew, Obito and Sasuke had never talked except in passing. And any Uchiha would have to be insane to actually prank the Uchiha Prankster.

 “Where. Is. Yanagi?” Obito growled at Sasuke. Itachi twitched, obviously wanted to step between Obito and his brother, but refrained. Neither would appreciate his interference. And Itachi really didn't want to suffer through another prank of Obito's.

 He was still finding feathers in his room from all those damn chickens.

 Sasuke stared defiantly up at Obito, obviously not scared of the goofiest Uchiha. Shisui had to admit that the kid had guts. Obito was one hot tempered Uchiha, only bested by his younger sister Yanagi. Hell, when Yanagi was on a rampage even Shisui stayed well out of her warpath. That woman had no respect for anyone, not her brother and guardian, not her clan leader... there were times when Shisui doubted that even the Hokage received Yanagi's respect.

 “Kakashi, put me down damn it!”

 Well speak of the devil.

 Shisui grinned as Obito spun in his gooey glory to glare at Yanagi thrown over Kakashi's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The young woman struggled even harder when she spied her brother, “You little traitor. I'm going to burn your whole house down now!”

 “Go right ahead, my books are in a fire proof safe.” Kakashi returned drily before dumping Yanagi on the ground right in front of her glaring brother. Yanagi crossed her arms and glared right back at him. Shisui smiled at the sight of the two siblings glaring, they were so different from Itachi and Sasuke.

 “I've got a perfectly good reason.” Yanagi said defensively before Obito could get a word in.

 “Oh I would love to hear this.” Her brother growled back.

 “My genin are idiots, but they're idiots who pass.”

 Itachi and Shisui exchanged slightly confused confused looks. They were both wondering the same thing, where in the world did Yanagi's genin team–Shisui didn't even know she had one–came into play with Sasuke pranking Obito?! Shisui caught Sasuke glaring hotly at Yanagi from behind Itachi and then it clicked.

 Shisui laughed, bringing all attention to him, “Was this your teamwork building exercise, Yagi?” He asked, highly amused. As he suspected, Yanagi immediately clammed up the moment she saw Shisui. He should have known that Yanagi would use the excuse of teaching her genin teamwork to prank her brother.

  Chapter 6 Shisui and D-ranks are Not Pleasant

“...”

 “...'Sup?”

 “...”

 “...”

 There was a quiet, slightly awkward, cough, “Do they do this a lot?” I heard Kurenai ask, her tone one of concern.

 My brother sighed beside me, “You have no idea...” He grumbled. Without looking I landed my elbow in his side, “OUCH! Yanagi, that hurts.” Obito yelled at me. Oh how I wanted to make a snappy comment; however a certain jerk sitting beside me, grinning devilishly, was preventing me from doing so. I settled for a dark look.

 Shisui's grin widened when I returned my glare to him, “Awww... I was hoping I'd catch you talking. I haven't heard your melodious voice in forever~” He teased. I just continued to glare at him. Shisui pouted and looked over my head at a now snickering Obito, “Obito-senpai, your imoto is being mean!”

 I went to punch Shisui, but Obito hooked a hand around my elbow, “No.” He said sternly. Obito always did like Shisui, so I was never allowed to hit him when my brother was around.

 I narrowed my eyes at the most skilled Uchiha, trying to tell him with my eyes how lucky he was that my brother was here to stop me from punching Shisui's lights out. Shisui seemed to get my message and ruffled my hair like when we were younger as he stood up, “See ya, Yagi!” The nickname set my teeth on edge and I would have hit him again, if Obito hadn't already guessed my intentions and wrapped an arm around my torso, keeping me in my seat. Shisui gave me another grin before bowing politely to the elite jounin sitting around the table, then he shunshined away like he was never there.

 Stickin' shunshin master...

 I crossed my arms, “Damn Uchiha... I hate him.” I growled when I couldn't feel his chakra anymore. Obito and Kakashi seemed to be the only ones amused by my silent treatment towards Shisui.

 “But I thought you said you didn't hate him, imoto.” Obito interjected.

 “I don't!”

 “You just said you did a minute ago.”

 “...”

 “What, are you giving me the silent treatment now?” Obito teased. I glared at him hotly, I hated older brothers; that I would readily admit to. Obito leaned closer, a grin similar to Shisui's on his face.

 My glare intensified as I leaned back, trying to put more personal space between us. My brother knew I hated people evading my personal space, and he used it to his advantage, “Outta my face or I'm going to steal your candy stash again.” I threatened. Like a spring, Obito was sitting straight again, sending me a dirty look. I grinned back at him, the tables had turned.

 Kurenai sighed, more used to Obito and my antics than my silent treatment towards Shisui, “Would you two stop?” She asked, her tone someone managing to stay between polite and exasperated. Only the Yuhi woman could accomplish such a tone.

 Kakashi scoffed from his corner of the booth, his eyes still on his smutty literature. At least Obito knew when to stop reading. “Getting those two to stop is like getting-”

 I butted in before he could finish, “Getting you to stop reading your porn?” I drawled. When Kakashi gave me a one eyed glare I grinned at him. Asuma and Kurenai tried to hide their chuckles while Obito didn't even bother. Kakashi slowly bookmarked his place and put the book away, still glaring at me.

 “I was going to say getting you to stop antagonizing your team.” Kakashi said in an irritated tone that he usually reserved for Obito when my brother was being particularly annoying.

 I scoffed, “They're a bunch of pansies, they get what they deserve.” It was a lame defense, but then again Fugaku hadn't really been thinking when he put me as Sasuke's sensei. It would be his fault if his youngest son was mentally scarred when I got through with him. “Besides,” I continued with my nose in the air, “the worst thing I have done was scare the shit out of that class when I yelled at those Uchiha brats.”

 Kurenai giggled, “Yes, I heard about that from Kiba. He said you reminded him of his mother.”

 “Shikamaru thinks you're very 'troublesome' too. Ino and Chouji looked a little shaken up about the whole thing.” Asuma added, “I can't imagine how your team feels having you as a sensei.”

 I glared at the Sarutobi, slightly insulted, “How they feel about me does not matter,” I paused for a moment then said with a sneer, “but... I'm pretty sure they're scared shitless. Especially the Hyuuga girl.”

 Obito sighed, “You're going to be the worst sensei ever...” He mumbled, rolled his eyes. No one said anything, but I could tell they agreed with him. Bunch of lackluster faithless jerks if you ask me.

 Pursing my lips I turned to Kakashi, “So, how bad did your almost team fail?” I asked, changing the subject.

 Kakashi gave me a look that told me he knew exactly what I was trying to do, but answered anyway, “Miserably, though I might take the Uchiha kid on as a personal student. He was the only one smart enough to figure it out.” Obito and I perked up at the mention of our clan name.

 “Uchiha? Who?” Obito questioned, leaning towards his best friend/rival.

 Kakashi shrugged, “Some kid named Netsui. He has a twin sister who was placed on another team.”

 My brother and I exchanged looks. We knew who Kakashi was talking about. Having twins in the clan was extremely rare, so Netsui and Nerai were considered something special. “Why didn't they place Nerai on your team, Kakashi-baka? Netsui and Nerai have a lot of combo attacks that could be useful.” Obito commented. Kakashi only shrugged again and I rolled my eyes, seeing that he was reading Icha Icha under the table. I was sorely tempted to 'accidentally' spill my drink on Kakashi and see if I could ruin his book.

 Before I could attempt anything, Anko suddenly appeared carrying a plate of dango, “Yo my bitches! What boring conversation are you- HEY!” Anko shouted when Obito and I simultaneously nabbed a dango stick from Anko's plate and stuffed them in our mouths before Anko could snatch them back. Everyone at the table sighed.

 The snake mistress glared at us, “You're lucky that I love you two, or you'd be dead... pigs.” She growled.

 Kurenai shook her head, “You should know better than to bring sweets around Obito and his sister.” She scolded lightly. Anko was still glaring at us as she grabbed her last dango stick and popped the first dumpling in her mouth. Kakashi was just giving the both of us dry looks that practically screamed, 'you nimrods'.

 What can I say, when it came to anything containing sugar, Obito and I were on it like white on rice.

 “Mm,” I waved my now empty dango stick around as I chewed on the last dumpling. Swallowing I continued, “did you know that Sasuke doesn't like sweets?” I commented. The look of absolute horror on Obito's face was priceless. Anko, who was almost as bad of a sugar junkie as Obito and I, looked almost as horrified. The rest of the jounin were too busy trying not to laugh at Obito's expression, myself included.

 “What Uchiha doesn't like sweets?!” Obito shouted, gaining a few looks from the patrons in the tea house where the six of us were relaxing.

 I shrugged at my Nii-san's question, “Apparently the second son to Fugaku. I tried to be nice and share my candy with him yesterday, but he said he didn't like sweets.” I got more surprised faces, but this time for a completely different reason.

 “You... offered to share candy with someone?” Anko asked. There was a brief pause before she slapped her hand to my forehead, “Nope, you ain't got a fever. Were you blackmailed into doing it then?” I glared and slapped her hand away.

 “Hey, I was trying to 'bond' with my students. With that hodgepodge of weirdos, I need to find some resemblance of sanity before I forget what it looks like.” I snapped sarcastically. I then turned to glare at Asuma and Kurenai, “How well does your students get along with each other?” I asked, though I already knew what they were going to say.

 The not-quite-yet-couple glanced at each other, probably silently communicating like the old married couple they should be. “Well...” Kurenai started hesitantly, “Kiba has some kind of one sided rivalry going on with Shino, but it's nothing too bad; and Sakura yells at Kiba a lot for being too... I think she said 'Naruto-like'.” I snorted at that one. This Kiba brat must be annoying indeed if he was compared to Naruto.

 Asuma shrugged when I turned to him, “Ino acts the same way as Sakura, she gets fed up with Shikamaru's lazy habits. She also tries to boss the boys around every so often, but Shikamaru and Chouji just go along with it. They're all very laid back.”

 “You lucky jerks.” I whined.

 Obito glared at me, “You're team seems to have good teamwork, stop complaining.” My brother growled. I laughed at him. No doubt he was remembering yesterday and the honey. I'd still be in the doghouse if I hadn't thought ahead and bought Obito two weeks worth of candy. In our house, candy equaled instant forgiveness, no matter how bad the crime was.

 “But they're still idiots. Hinata looks like she's going to faint half the time and Naruto is either trying to physically fight me or Sasuke. And Sasuke is trying to act cool and-” My eyes casually flicked up to the small clock hanging on the back wall of the tea shop. I stiffened when I realized the time. “Shit! My team has a mission!” I cursed and literally vaulted over my brother in my hurry to get away. The group of jounin laughed as I tore out of the tea house in a fury to beat my team to our meeting point.

 The last thing I needed was my team complaining about me being late.

 vvv

 “You're late.” Sasuke said dully when I came skidding to a halt five minutes before the time I had given my team. Luckily my cousin was the only one there. My biggest worry had been the loud mouth blonde. Naruto would never let me live it down if I had been late.

 I glared at the navy haired Uchiha as I tried to catch my breath, “Not a... word.” I panted.

 Sasuke smirked, “What will I get out of it?” He asked smugly. Damn it, he was catching on.

 “Name your price.” I said in all seriousness.

 My cousin's smirk grew wider, “I want to know why you won't talk to Shisui.” Damn it all, this brat was learning too quick! I was expecting him to name his favorite food and make me buy it like Obito usually did, not information.

 “HA! I'M EARLY, SO I'M NOT LATE!” Naruto shouted then as he came running up to us, saving me from a conversation I didn't want to have. By the looks of his disheveled state, it was clear that he would have been late if he hadn't hauled ass.

 I looked around as was surprised to see Hinata standing slightly behind the two boys. I raised an eyebrow, I hadn't even noticed her come up. There was no way of knowing if she was early or on time. Mentally I made a note to bump up Hinata to more advance stealth training before I pulled out the mission scroll, “Okay, first D-ranked mission of the day is... babysitting twins.”

 I don't know who groaned louder: me or Naruto.

 vvv

 Naruto and I came to the mutual agreement to ditch the brats with Hinata and Sasuke. I was already struggling not to kill myself by just dealing with three preteens, I didn't need two five year olds to add to the list. Naruto just didn't like small kids in general.

 Hinata, not surprisingly, took care of her brat quite well. The five year old seemed quite taken with the shy Hyuuga heiress. I was sorely tempted to make a comment about Hinata's future abilities at motherhood, but decided against it knowing she would just faint. Sasuke also fared okay. After a few tantrums, the brat quieted down knowing that Sasuke wasn't going to deal with any of his crap. As Hinata and Sasuke wondered around Konoha with their kids in tow, Naruto and I followed behind them talking aimlessly about our favorite foods. When I said I didn't like ramen, Naruto nearly had a heart attack, which was amusing to Sasuke and I. The twins looked confused as to why Naruto was on the ground twitching while Hinata was stuttering up a storm trying to talk to the comatose blonde.

 At noon we returned the twins to their parents and I dragged my team with me to clean Nekobaa's house. This time it was Hinata and Naruto that did all the work while Sasuke and I visited with the Uchiha weapons supplier. Nekobaa and I were mostly content in teasing Sasuke about his little paw challenge that Itachi-san had given him when they were younger. Sasuke didn't seem to mind all that much, though he did glare at me for quite a while. Naturally, being Uchiha, Sasuke and I were overrun by cats demanding for attention. Of course Naruto flubbed it up when, after seeing Sasuke and I casually petting the ever present cats, tried to pet one too.

 I probably should have told him that only members of the Uchiha clan were allowed to touch the cats.

 Needless to say, Naruto got his ass handed to him by a house cat. Hinata then did another swooning/stuttering episode as she tried to talk to the once again unconscious Naruto. Sasuke and I just enjoyed ourselves again.

 After the mission with Nekobaa, I took my team to help clean out an old abandoned building that was going to be torn down soon. Hinata and I sat this mission out as the boys used their 'muscles' to move old rotten crates and other decrepit treasures that were buried in the corners of the warehouse. I tried to cure Hinata of her stuttering problem in that time, but I only succeeded in lessening how much she stuttered by a few seconds before Naruto once again caused disaster.

 I tried to make the man who owned the building see the bright side: now he would have to pay the demolition teams anything, since Naruto flattened the building like a bug.

 I'm still not sure how he did that...

 At sunset I lead Team 7 back to the Missions Assignment Office to hand in the reports of the missions. Of all of them, the babysitting mission had gone the smoothest. It was the only one that didn't fail due to destruction of private property. I was starting to worry that all our missions would fail as bad. One lecture from the Hokage about mission effectiveness later, Hiruzen dismissed us and Team 7 dispersed into the growing dusk, each heading to their own home.

 Sasuke and I walked back together in silence, far enough apart that we wouldn't brush up against each other as we walked. I was starting to get a feeling that this was going to be a regular thing.

 “You never did tell me why you don't speak to Shisui.” Sasuke commented out of the blue.

 I glared into the distance. Damn it I had been hoping he had forgotten about that. When I didn't say anything he continued, “I asked Shisui yesterday, but he only laughed it off and changed the subject. Aniki said you two used to be good friends.”

 “What happened to the glaring boy who first introduced himself?” I asked dryly.

 “He got curious.”

 “Curiosity killed the cat.”

 Sasuke finally glared at me before smirking, “And satisfaction brought it back.”

 I twitched in irritation. This kid had been hanging around Obito and Shisui too much if he was starting to quote those two goofballs. I started picking up my pace, making the Uchiha brat have to jog to keep up with me, “I don't have to explain anything to you. It's private.”

 Sasuke shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Fine. I'll tell Naruto that you were late today. I imagine he'll stop teasing you about it... when you're in your grave. Maybe not though.”

 It was hard resisting the urge to smack the boy upside the head like I would Nii-san or Shisui when they started blackmailing me. You don't blackmail the Blackmail Queen and get away with it, it was simply unheard of. I thought frantically of a way to get out of the mess I had created and cursed the fact that I didn't have any blackmail to hold over Sasuke.

 Oh wait...

 I smirked evilly down at him, enjoying the sight of Sasuke tensing up in anxiety. I already had the Uchiha brat trained so well, “Go ahead and tell Naruto,” I started nonchalantly with a shrug of my own. My eyes gleamed as I grinned sadistically, “but don't come whining to me when people start asking if you and the blonde brat are dating... That kiss was so romantic. I wonder what your family will think.”

 My little cousin's complexion turned from white to green to red in under two seconds. I laughed loudly and reached down to ruffle his duckass hair, ignoring his rather impressive glare, “Never try to blackmail the Blackmail Queen, I have that nickname for a reason. I know every embarrassing secret about everyone. Now drop the subject and you'll maintain your dignity.”

 “I will find out one day.” Sasuke said stubbornly.

 I held out my hands, palms facing upwards, and shrugged to show how much I cared, “Sure... maybe you will.” I said in a soothing tone, the kind that parents got when their child failed at something and was bawling their eyes out.

 Another glare from the boy, “Don't patronize me.”

 “Then don't leave yourself open.”

 “You're annoying.”

 “I've heard it all before, brat. Keep it coming.”

 “Aniki says you don't respect anyone.”

 “I don't respect people for who they are born as. They earn my respect.” I snapped, a little more harshly than I intended.

 Sasuke was silent after that, his young face hard with contemplation. I eyed the boy as we reached the Uchiha Compound. I knew Sasuke was smart–he should be after having a genius for an older brother–so it wasn't much of a surprise that he would think before he spoke. Still that expression on his face didn't belong on the twelve year old's face; one could hardly expect an adult to think so deeply, let alone a child. I did the only thing I could do.

 I swatted him upside the head.

 “HEY!” Sasuke yelped and glared at me as he rubbed the back of his head. I pulled my cousin in a choke hold and ground my first knuckle into his temple, like Obito used to do to me when I was younger.

 “You're still a brat and I still don't like you, but stop trying to over think things. Didn't you learn anything from your first teamwork exercise?” I asked. Sasuke glared at me for the reminder about his understated 'clue'. I laughed and pushed in away from me, “Go home and bother your 'aniki,' brat.” I said cheerfully and started to turn away before I remembered something.

 “Oh...” I looked over my shoulder at Sasuke who froze on spot, probably thinking I was going to say something evil, “and if Shisui ever gives you trouble, just ask him about his nineteenth birthday.” I said with a wink. I shunshined away, leaving the poor kid frowning in confusion.

  Chapter 7: Hypocrite Thy Name is-

Mission One: Retrieve cat from tree

 Rank: D-rank

 Team: Team 7

 Complete: yes

 Overview from Sensei: Team arrived on site for the mission and evaluated the situation. Sasuke shows signs of a adept strategist as he relayed a plan to his teammates on how to get the cat out of the tree. Hinata appears to be a good follower, as she completed every task Sasuke gave her. Naruto, however, shows that he is neither a good leader or a good follower. Disregarding both mine and Sasuke's orders, Naruto created kage bushin to climb up and retrieve the cat alone. Both Naruto and the tree were injured and the cat traumatized.

 …

 Mission Two: Grocery Shopping for the Chief Councilor’s Wife (time limit: 2 hours)

 Rank: D-rank

 Team: Team 7

 Complete: no

 Overview from Sensei: Hinata took action by dividing up the long list of groceries between the three genin to save time. Sasuke shows excellent signs of being a follower when it is needed. He finished his section in record time and had the foresight to retrieve items not on the list but were still necessary. Hinata was only moments behind Sasuke in completing her tasks. Naruto go sidetracked by ramen and thus failed the time crucial mission.

 …

 Mission Three: Weeding the Public Gardens

 Rank: D-Rank

 Team: Team 7

 Complete: no

 Overview from Sensei: Sasuke and Hinata did alright. They successfully finished their sections of the gardens and disposed of the weeds properly. Hinata was even able to give advice about plant upkeep to the caretakers. Naruto pulled everything, plant and weed, from his sections. Half of his paycheck has been cut to go to the whiny plant caretakers.

…

 Mission Four: Cleaning Nekobaa's House

 Rank: D-rank

 Team: Team 7

 Overview from Sensei: An almost replica of the team's first mission to clean Nekobaa's hut. Sasuke and Hinata applied their ninja skills to complete their tasks faster. Naruto once again upset the cats and made another mess. Thankfully Nekobaa was not too upset.

 …

 Mission Five: Babysitting

 Rank: D-Rank

 Team: Team 7

 Complete: yes

 Overview from Sensei: Naruto shouldn't be allowed around children. He somehow traumatized the little brat... and not by means that you are thinking of.

 ...

 Mission Six: Gardening for Lady Jin

 Rank: D-Rank

 Team: Team 7

 Complete: no

 Overview from Sensei: I'M STARTING TO THINK THIS IS A CRUEL JOKE, HOKAGE!

 I shoved the reports away from me and tossed the pen down. I needed a break. It was only my official second day of being a jounin sensei and already I needed a break. I was going to go insane if I had to spend another minute around those three brats!

 “YANAGI-SENSEI!” A voice I knew too well, and didn't like at all, shouted from the front door. The brat was loud enough that I could hear his voice even from the back of the house. Cursing I started to get up to answer it when the worst happened.

 Obito.

 Met.

 Naruto.

 “HEY LOUD-MOUTH BRAT! SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH BEFORE I FIND AWAY TO STITCH IT CLOSED! I'M TRYING TO WRITE REPORTS!!” Obito roared and I cringed at the sound of his loud voice bouncing off the walls of our house. Fugaku really didn't think things through when he thought that a two bedroom house was enough for the infamous Uchiha hotheads.

 “SAY THAT TO MY FACE!” Naruto, of course, yelled back. Luckily his voice was a little muffled so I didn't go completely deaf then and there.

 Nii-san cursed rather loudly and I could hear him stomping towards the front door. Well crap, now I had to deal with two idiots under the same roof. I groaned from my seat, not having yet bothered to move and separate the two before things could escalate. Why oh why was I cursed to live with a difficult brother and have to teach the loudest brat I had ever known in existence? Even if I was the worst kind of insane homicidal psychopath in a past life, I doubted that I deserved this fate.

 Whoever told Naruto where I lived, I was going to murder them in the most horrific way.

 “Hey! You're that guy we had to prank.” I could hear Naruto saying as I heard the sliding door slam open. Oh crap. I forgot about that prank! Scrambling out of my seat I rushed into the main room just in time to see Obito glowering down at my student. At least he wasn't killing him... yet.

 Obito, to say the least, didn't look pleased at all, “Kid, you've got three seconds to get off my property.”  Naruto had better thank his lucky stars that he was the son of Minato-san; otherwise I doubted that the blonde brat would be standing there for very long. Predictably, a very long and very loud argument between the two knuckleheads started.

 I sighed as I thought about my options. Option one: Do nothing and let Obito and Naruto dislike each other. It might be a good thing, since they wouldn't bother me as much when they were too busy yelling at each other. However, two extremely loud people shouting at each other was a sure ticket to migraines. Option two: Make them like each other. If Nii-san got along well enough with Naruto then they would probably go pranking together and get out of my hair for a few hours. The downside was that I would have to deal with Naruto more often. My choice was clear.

 After retrieving Obito's wallet from his room, I chucked it at my brother and hit him on the back of his head. Obito spun around to glare at me, “What the hell is wrong with you?!” He snapped.

 I glared back at him, “Stop giving me headaches and go bond with your Mini-me. Buy ramen or whatever.” I dismissed with a wave of my hand.

 “Mini-me?! He's (I'm) not my (his) Mini-me!” Obito and Naruto shouted at the same time, in the exact same offended voice. I laughed at their expressions as horror came over their faces and they glanced at each other. Everything was in perfect sync, it was very creepy but amusing at the same time. I just gave the two a knowing smirk. It was so obvious that Nii-san and the Kyuubi brat were alike, and they just kept proving it by mimicking each other.

 I turned to Naruto as the two came to terms with their sudden likeness, “How'd you get here? I know someone told you, who were they?” I asked sternly.

 Naruto was still too busy giving Obito a nasty glare, which was returned tenfold, to answer me. It wasn't until I reached around my brother and yanked harshly on Naruto's ear that the blonde finally looked at me, “Ai ai ai! Frizzy-sensei! Don't pulllll!” He whined. I stiffened at the nickname and Obito burst out laughing.

 “Frizzy...sensei?” I asked, my tone turning dangerously. My hair, I admit, was unruly–even more so than Shisui's–but you never ever tease a woman about her appearance. Especially a hot tempered woman like me. Uchiha women were naturally beautiful, with their long flowing hair and dark intelligent eyes; I knew I wasn't on par with them, and I was extra volatile about my appearance because of that.

 The kid seemed to understand that he was in deep trouble now as he squirmed in my grip. He kept apologizing over and over. I just pinched his earlobe harder in a warning before letting go. The brat danced from foot to foot, both hands clasped to his injured ear, wailing about how much it hurt. Obito snickered the whole time, finding amusement in what he normally did when Rin pulled on his ear.

 I shot my brother a meaningful look and thankfully Obito caught my meaning and shoved Naruto out the door, “Come on, ya brat. I'm hungry and my imoto will only murder you if you stay here.” My brother drawled. Naruto made no complaints, probably hoping that Obito would take pity on the blonde and feed him.

 Rolling my eyes at the stupidity of those around me, I shut the door and went back to my room. I needed to finish those stupid mission reports.

 Someone murder me now.

 vvv

 “OBITO!” A voice shouted and I groaned, letting my head fall onto my desk. Was I never to have a moment's peace to myself without some loud mouth idiot coming to ruin it?! Though, granted the person yelling now wasn't a loud mouth...

 He was just extremely pissed.

 I glared at Kakashi the minute I walked into the main room, “Honestly, Kakashi, you have no room to yell at Obito-nii for lateness. You do it yourself!” I snapped as my way to say hello.

 “Where is he?”

 “Out distracting Naruto so I can do reports.”

 “Did he finish his?”

 I shrugged, “He was working on his reports until Naruto came along. By the way, do you know who told Naruto where we live? 'Cause I sure as hell didn't!” I eyed Kakashi suspiciously, thinking maybe he had something to do with it; but I turned the thought down immediately. The only association Kakashi had with Naruto was through Minato-san. And besides, neither Obito or I had warranted the revenge of the Copy-nin... yet.

 Kakashi also shrugged, his temporary anger already dissipating. I don't know how Kakashi managed to go through the emotional spectrum so fast. Normally the only thing that could rile the white haired shinobi up was Obito, and Kakashi's anger usually went away after a few minutes. I on the other hand could hold grudges for a long time.

 ...Five years in fact...

 I rolled my eyes when Kakashi didn't say anything and walked past him to shut the door; Kakashi had a bad habit of leaving doors open when it wasn't his own house. I turned back to my brother figure after I locked the door. Seriously, living in a shinobi village... and we had a cheap lock on the door. Both Obito and I were powerful in the clan, bested only by Itachi and Shisui, so I didn't understand why Obito installed the lock in the first place. Besides, what good what it do? If anyone was determined enough, a lock wasn't going to stop them.

 “Any particular reason why you came to yell for my brother? Or are you just making sure he's not being lazy?” I asked Kakashi.

 Kakashi fell back into his laid-back persona and chuckled sheepishly, “A little bit of both actually.” He said, scratching the back of his head. I huffed, of course he was. I raised an eyebrow and waited for Kakashi to elaborate, “Obito promised Rin and me that he would meet us at the BBQ today at noon.” I checked the time. It was almost four in the afternoon, only an hour since Obito left to distract Naruto.

 I rolled my eyes, “And you're only now coming to yell at him? I think you're a tad late yourself, Kakashi.” My brother figure shrugged as if it was okay when he was the one that was late.

 Hypocrite.

 “Fine. Since you're here, you're going to treat me to dinner. No exceptions.” I said and pulled Kakashi out of the house. Had it been Obito, he would have whined about being forced to come, but Kakashi just chuckled at my controlling nature. He had long since learned that when I put my mind to something, I was the most stubborn thing alive.

 A few minutes later found the two of us in an Akimichi restaurant. The Akimichi clan was famous for owning several restaurants around Konoha as well as being a ninja clan. Many clans had civilian sideline profits that could be used for shinobi means; it was almost rare not to. The Akimichi were into restaurants, but they also made most of Konoha's standard ration bars and mission food supplies. The Yamanaka clan owns chains of flower shops and provided shinobi with poisons and herbs. The Uchiha worked as police for civilians but they could easily switch to being an army if the need arose. There were various ways the clans could help Konoha's civilian population; it was a complex system smoothed out from years of experimenting.

 Except the Hyuuga clan, they were just a bunch of freeloaders.

 “So did you ever decide if you were going to personally train that Uchiha kid or not?” I asked as Kakashi pulled down his mask to enjoy his dinner. The two of us were in a private booth so there were no worries about people seeing Kakashi's face. Since I had been practically raised by Kakashi as well as Obito, it was inevitable that I would see the Copy-nin unmasked so Kakashi never truly bothered to hide his face from me. Plus it always helped that I had threatened to reveal pictures of him unmasked to the fangirl population if he ever tried to hide his face from me.

 That was my first ever blackmail and I found pride in it.

 Kakashi held up a finger as he finished chewing on his mouthful of broiled saury. I was just happy that he didn't talk with his mouth full like Nii-san did, the uncouth pig. “I'm still debating.” He said nonchalantly when he swallowed. Code for: I haven't decided to retire from ANBU Corps yet. “What do you think I should do?” Kakashi added, almost in afterthought.

 “Mmm... when I talked to Sasuke about it, he said that Netsui was one of the top genin. It seems unfair that he would fail just because his team has no concept of teamwork.” I tapped my chopsticks against my bowl of Nikujaga as I thought. There were really only two options for Netsui. He could always go into the Genin Corps and work his way slowly up in ranks, but that would take time and it was unheard of for an Uchiha to do so. Or he could snag a jounin master and learn privately, which could go one of two ways: having a Uchiha clansmen help or a random jounin. A non-clansmen wouldn't be any good anyway, since they couldn't teach Netsui how to master his Sharingan if it developed; and getting an Uchiha to be Netsui's master could be problematic in the sense that Konoha would think the clan was beginning to conspire again. That was a fate I wished to avoid at all costs.

 I might have no love for the clan, but I still didn't want it to be wiped out like it almost was.

 A sudden flick in the forehead startled me out of my musings. Kakashi rolled his eye as he sat back, “Stop plotting and tell me what you're thinking.” He said dryly. I giggled a little. Because of his sharingan gift from Obito, Kakashi was one of the few outsiders that was close to the Uchiha clan so he knew all about our tendency to over think things.

 Quickly I explained my thoughts about Netsui's future. Even though he kept a relaxed posture Kakashi seemed to listen intently to my reasoning, I could tell by the sharp glint in his eye. That was one reason why I liked Kakashi. He didn't think that because I was female, even if I was an Uchiha, that I didn't know anything. I might not have Itachi-san's ability to think up plans years in advance and predict every possible outcome, but I still had a sharp mind and I put it to use. Kakashi knew that.

 Kakashi's single visible eyebrow pulled down low over his nose and his mouth turned downwards in a frown as he came to the same conclusion I did. If Kakashi didn't do anything, Netsui would be isolated from the clan and saw as a failure like Obito had been when he refused to take his sharingan back from Kakashi. The Uchiha clan didn't look kindly on failures; our ruthlessness was one of the aspects that made us stronger than most clans. Kind hearted fools had better be powerful or else they were cut off. It was one thing that would never change, even with the clan's change of heart we would be ruthless to the end.

 A heavy silence fell over our booth as I waited for Kakashi to speak. I knew Kakashi was going through all his options carefully, trying to see every possible outcome. Kakashi didn't run headfirst into things, he was levelheaded and logical. If I pushed him now he would probably read wrongly into my motives, thinking that I might have an ulterior motive in regards to Netsui's future. I would have to be patient and wait for Kakashi's answer.

 Finally my brother figure groaned, “No offense... but your clan sucks.” He said resigned.

 I laughed, “No offense taken, I think the same thing.” I said lightly and turned back to my Nikujaga. A different kind of silence descended on us, this one more peaceful now that matters were resolved and Netsui wasn't in danger of becoming an outcast like my brother.

 Of course, Kakashi in all his nosy glory had to ask, “Why are you so interested in the kid anyway? He's not related directly to you like Sasuke.”

 “Because,” I said seriously, giving my brother figure a hard stare, “I don't want anyone to end up like Obito. People still look down on Nii-san, even though he is the third most powerful in the clan. I... I don't want anyone to suffer like he has.” I finished in a whisper, staring down at my bowl of sweet beef. Suddenly it didn't look all that appealing anymore. I admit it, for all my ranting about Obito and for all the times I claimed I didn't like him, I was still his younger sister. And little sister had to look up to their brothers, especially when their brother was the person who raised them.

 Kakashi shifted in his seat, probably extremely uncomfortable. The Copy-nin never really did handle emotions well, there was a reason why one of his ANBU nicknames was the 'Hot and Cold Kakashi.' But hey, at least I wasn't crying.

 Kakashi freaked when a girl cried near him.

 “Maa... doesn't Netsui have a twin?” Kakashi asked, discomfort coloring his voice a little. I knew he would change the subject. Kakashi trying to get away from sensitive topics was about as certain as Gai connecting any conversation to youth in some fashion.

 So forgive me if I couldn't help but snort a little at his predictability, “Yeah. Nerai has good medical skills, best in her class from what I hear. Can you talk to Rin and see if she is willing to sponsor Nerai?” Nerai was easy to deal with, it was Netsui that I was concerned about. The Uchiha clan was always harder on their men than the women.

 Bunch of sexist pricks.

 Without waiting for Kakashi's reply I stood and threw some yen down on the table, “You can go read your porn now, Hentai-nii. I'm through bothering you for the day.” I said teasingly. Kakashi's expression was not a happy one to say the least.

 But that was what made things fun.

 vvv

 I barely sat down at my desk, prepared to finished up those stupid mission reports even if it killed me, when there was loud banging at the front door... again. I was never going to win! Growling curses and muttering of all the ways I could kill whoever was at the door, going as far as to specify what I would do with their severed fingers and toes, I went to answer the door.

 “What the hell do you want?” I growled as I slammed the door open then froze when I saw who was standing at my door.

 I blinked.

 And blinked again.

 Fugaku did not look amused at all. “We have been summoned to the Hokage's office. Let's go.” He said in that gruff voice of his before he shunshined away.

 I stood there for a moment, stunned that the Uchiha clan leader would have actually come to my door. If Fugaku ever needed something from either Obito or I, he would send one of his little minions to fetch us, not come personally. Whatever he wanted, it was serious if it could get his royal ass within ten meters of our house. Out of sheer curiosity, and nothing else, I followed after my clan leader and went to the Hokage's Office.

 I sincerely wished I hadn't.

 The moment I stepped into Hiruzen's office I knew I was in trouble. Not only was Fugaku standing off to the side, glaring at me like he always did, but across the room the Hyuuga clan leader also stood, giving me the same glare.

 If it wasn't for the different colored eyes, I'd say they were related.

 Ignoring the two arrogant clan leaders, I focused my attention on the highly amused Hokage, “You wished to see me, Hokage-sama?” I asked, my tone perfectly polite. From the aura darkening around Fugaku, I knew it irritated him. I had to keep the smirk off my face. Annoy my clan leader by being polite: check.

 The Hokage seemed to know what I was doing, since he shook his head disappoint but that didn't make his small smile go away. The Hyuuga spoke instead of the Hokage though, “The matter of my daughter.”

 “What about her?” I demanded, not even pretending to be polite. I might not like the Uchiha clan, but like any Uchiha with even an ounce of loyalty, I automatically detested the Hyuuga.

 The Hyuuga clan leader, whatever his name was, twitched at the blatant disrespect. I smirked at him, Uchiha may be traditional, but we had nothing on those white eyed weirdos. The Hokage sighed, “Please, do not antagonize, Uchiha Yanagi.” He said tiredly. I bowed low in a false apology and didn't say anything. Fugaku and Hiruzen knew that was the best they were going to get out of me and didn't press the subject.

 “Lord Hokage, why did you put Hinata on a team with two Uchiha?” Hyuuga Prick Number 1 asked, completely ignoring Fugaku and me like we didn't exist. I rolled my eyes, this was why the Uchiha found no love in the Hyuuga. You couldn't find another clan that had so many jackasses in it anywhere else in the world. Not even the Uchiha clan could compete with the Hyuuga in that.

 Hiruzen didn't react at all. He just looked at the Hyuuga and said in an almost scolding tone, “Hyuuga Hiashi, please calm down.” Even though it was polite, anyone could tell that the Hokage was ordering Hiashi to shut the hell up. Hiashi's face twisted with displeasure, but he didn't dare go against the Hokage.

 The old man took a long draw on his ever present pipe before saying, “It is that attitude that makes this team arrangement necessary.” Oh dear heaven above, here we go... another long winded speech, “For years the Uchiha have been oppressed because of their ancestors actions. People often forget that the Uchiha were one of the founding clans of Konoha. It was the Uchiha clan that kept Konoha safe in the first few years, along with the Senju clan, but now they are treated with suspicion. After the Kyuubi attack, people began to distrust the Uchiha even more, until the point that the Uchiha nearly started a coup.”

 “That is exactly why we shouldn't let the Uchiha teach our children!” Hiashi snapped.

 “Hey!” I shouted and took a menacing step forward, how dare that insufferable prick accuse me of brainwashing the genin, but Fugaku held me back. From the tightness of his grip I knew that, for once, my clan leader and I were in agreement with something.

 The Hokage gave the three of us a steely look that reminded us of the war leader he had been, not the harmless grandfatherly type that he appeared to be now. Even though I had only been seven when the Third Shinobi War had ended, it was enough to know just how frightening Hiruzen could be when he wanted.

 When we had calmed down enough not to attack each other, Hiruzen continued, “It is because the Uchiha almost revolted that we should have Uchiha teaching genin.” Cue the 'I'm confused but I'm sure as not showing it in front of my enemy' look from Hiashi. Hell, I was a little confused too. The Hokage smiled slightly, “The Uchiha lost trust in Konoha, that is why they almost attacked. Had it not been for certain parties to intervene, I doubt that the Uchiha would be alive today.” Of the few people who knew about the attempted Uchiha coup only a handful knew that Itachi and Shisui were the ones who stopped it. And none of them were Hiashi. “It was clear that such an event could possibly happen again in the future if nothing was done. Konoha, as well as the Uchiha clan, had to change for the better if we were to prevent something of that scale again. What better way to clear away the dark past then to instill a new future into the minds of the next generation?

 “As for your daughter; it is a simple attempt to bring the Uchiha clan closer to the others. In the past, both before Konoha and after it was built, the Uchiha clan has always stood alone. They never relied on alliances with other clans. I believe that if they were to open their arms and welcome the friendship of other clans, they would be even stronger than they are now.” I noticed that Fugaku was standing a little straighter behind me and I had to swallow the urge to laugh at his pride. The Hokage was playing these two old warthogs like a fiddle, and expertly too. “Clan alliances always work best in teamwork. Take the Akimichi, Yamanaka, and Nara clans. Any team that contains members of those clans are known to have the best teamwork. Just imagine what the Hyuuga and Uchiha could accomplish together.”

 Both clan members gave each other appeasing looks, as if both were trying to figure the benefits they would get being allies. I raised a knowing eyebrow at the Hokage while the old farts were busy eyeing each other like sacks of meat. Hiruzen only chuckled under his breath and gave me a quick wink, so fast had I blinked I would have never seen it.

 “So... does this mean I can get back to my team? I have torture to dish out.” I asked, half joking. Okay, so not the best thing to say in front of the three men who were fathers, or a grandfather figure in the Hokage's case, to my precious little genin.

 I don't think even Obito can ever achieve the evil looks I got from those three.

[taste-thewaste]

Potential-Madderton fic

Title: Potential Ship: Madderton Word count: ~4800 CW: Fluff, angst, mutual pining, misunderstanding sort of steering the plot lol Summary: Richard and Taron decide to take the next step and go out on their first date...but it’s a disaster. After, they don’t know where they stand with each other. A/N: This fic is a labor of love lol. Someone prompted me from a list of winter prompts that I reblogged forever ago, “our first date goes horribly so i don’t know why i say yes to a second date, and now, we’re stuck at the diner until the snow slows down and i'm having fun” and I’ve been working on this for a long time. This is the longest fic that I think I’ve written! It’s full of fluff and angst and gratuitous writing, so beware lol. Thank you for reading :)

--------

They’re sharing a pint in a tiny pub, and Taron’s just been stopped by the third person timidly asking for his photo. His eyes light up as he enthusiastically smiles for a selfie, his arm wrapped tight around the girl who owns the phone he’s staring into, and then he gives her a quick hug as she jets off back to her group of friends. Richard’s no stranger to being recognized-it’s happened twice to him tonight, as well-and it’s just a hazard of going out. Taron returns to the table and smiles sheepishly at Richard. 

“Sorry, Rich. It’s not always my favorite thing, but I’m still...grateful, you know? These people enjoy seeing me, my work, and just...I can’t believe this is my life sometimes.” Taron casts his eyes down, his cheeks pink from the beer and the heat of the tiny space and from his own brazen vulnerability. Richard just tilts his head, a slow smile spreading on his face. 

“Can I take you out to dinner Friday night?” Richard blurts, and then his own cheeks are pink and matching Taron’s. 

They’ve spent weeks in this place of non-definition, this gray area of relationship, not acknowledging the ways in which things have changed. They spend their evenings together, in pubs, in the cinema, in each other’s living rooms, and things are, functionally, very similar to the way they’ve always been. Except that now Rich’s knee brushes against Taron’s when they sit on the sofa, and neither of them move; Taron’s eyes linger on Richard’s just the slightest beat longer than they used to; once, in a fit of daring fueled by a few beers, Richard had pulled Taron close to him in a tight hug, buried his face in the sweet spot on T’s neck, kissed it just gently. 

No, they haven’t acknowledged these small moments of intimacy, not until now, and Richard has made a firm, calculated leap into reality. 

“Dinner?” Taron asks, softly, and Richard nods. 

“I...like you,” Richard says, his words trailing off into almost a whisper. It is raw, and vulnerable, and he is filled with fear as soon as the words leave his mouth. Taron is silent for a moment, and in those moments are everything Richard’s worried about since he came to the conclusion that he wanted to ask T out. He feels like a bloody teenager, like he’s covered in pimples and misread the signs; in those few silent moments, he rethinks everything he’s been thinking about this man. He pictures Taron recoiling in revulsion, accusing Richard of being mad, storming out of the pub. He thinks of all of the many ways he could have misread these last few weeks. He admits, to himself, that things were not clear in the slightest. 

“I-I mean, if you’d like to get dinner, that is, no pressure. It could be like tonight, just picking up some food, a beer, whatever, it doesn’t have to be anything serious…it doesn’t have to mean anything.” Now he’s stuttering like a teenager, good Christ. 

And then Taron’s hand is on his, gently, but it’s intentional and Richard looks up, allowing his eyes to meet Taron’s, and he’s calm again, because Taron is calm. 

“Yes, I want to get dinner, and I do want it to mean something,” Taron says evenly, and how could he have been nervous? His face breaks out into a relieved smile, and he nods.

“Okay. Sounds good,” Richard says, and the two of them finish their beers, make plans for Friday evening, laugh at everything stupid.

-------

Friday comes around, and for all the confidence that he’d felt when accepting, Taron will never admit to anyone how nervous he is about this dinner with Richard.

He gets dressed hours early, pulling on a pair of slacks that are both comfortable and flattering, clinging to his bum in just the right way. He pairs it with a dress shirt-dark blue, it brings out his eyes-and a jacket. It’s 4:05, and Rich isn’t due to arrive until 7. Taron’s cheeks flush as he realizes just how early he is, just how nervous he is, but it’s true. He doesn’t know why, but his stomach is churning with anxiety, his hands are shaking, and the only thing he’s certain of is that if he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll vomit all over his expensive shoes. He sits on the couch for a moment, willing his heart to stop pounding. 

“This is bloody ridiculous,” he says to himself, his voice echoing throughout the flat. “It’s Richard.” He has nothing to be nervous about; this is his best mate, his pal, the man with the ocean-blue eyes that he can’t stop thinking about. He’s been dreaming about something like this for ages, since the first time they kissed on Rocketman, and now it’s here and he can’t stop freaking out. 

He stands up from the couch and physically shakes out the nerves, flaps his arms, rolls his neck, attempts to release the tension. “I just have to chill out,” he mutters to himself. 

He kills the next three hours in a variety of ways. He attempts to read three different books, setting each of them down after just a few sentences or paragraphs. He turns on the telly and flips through the channels at lightning speed, not registering anything in front of him, ignoring the blur of the sounds and colors. He shuffles through the music on his phone, changing the songs one after the other. The activity that sticks longest is the game he makes of catching popcorn in his mouth; he tosses them in the air, tilts his head back, careens wildly to let the pieces fall into his mouth. 

By the time Richard arrives to pick him up, Taron is full of popcorn and feels like his eyes are spinning in his head. He’s more nervous than before, somehow, so when the knock comes at the door, he almost pukes. He frantically smoothes down his hair, takes a deep breath and opens the door.

--------

Richard decides to take Taron to the nicest restaurant he can find; he deserves that much, he deserves the world, Richard thinks. He makes a reservation and spends three days choosing what to wear. He bites his nails to the quick and when the day finally comes, he almost talks himself out of going. 

I could tell him I have food poisoning. I could tell him something’s come up and I have to fly home. I could tell him...anything, I could tell him anything because what if this is a terrible idea? 

The only thing that gets him into the car and across to Taron’s flat is reminding himself, calmly, insistently, that this is Taron, after all, his little Duckie, and this will all be fine. It’ll be better than fine, it’ll be brilliant. 

These words simply get him into the car and over to T’s, though. They do little to quell the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach as he drives there, the trembling in his hands as he approaches Taron’s door. Before he knocks, he takes one last big, deep breath, and reminds himself of the fact that he is absolutely certain he’s the only one who’s nervous. He’s sure that Taron is completely calm and ready for this evening. He reminds himself that everything will be just fine, better than fine. It will be wonderful.

He knocks.

-------- 

I don’t know that I’ve ever been nervous about something and had it turn out worse than I was imagining it, Taron thinks as he lays in bed that evening. It is 10:04 P.M. and he is laying in bed alone, the calling card of a date that didn’t go the way either party had hoped. Taron curls up into a ball and pulls the covers over his head, wishing he could stop reliving their evening, but unable to stop. 

It was as though every moment of their relationship up until that point had vanished out the window. Not just the small tender moments over the last few weeks, but their entire friendship. The car ride was silent and awkward, the only sound coming from Richard fiddling with the radio stations. 

Once they got to the restaurant, the awkwardness only swelled. They both behaved as if they were complete strangers who’d met on an app or through a mutual friend, strangely formal and courteous. Richard didn’t tease him about his hair or the bits of popcorn stuck in his teeth; he didn’t joke with Richard about the way he was walking as if there was a pole shoved into an uncomfortable position. They didn’t even talk about Rocketman or any of their shared experiences. They spoke politely and civilly, talked about the weather (cold); perfunctory details about their families (they were both close with their mums); their taste in music (similar). 

Taron was actually grateful when the food arrived, as it gave him something to do other than stare at Richard awkwardly and smile. They both ate quickly, barely glancing at each other throughout the meal.

“Quite good,” Richard remarked once. 

“Indeed,” Taron answered, swallowing thickly and taking a long drink of water. 

After they’d finished eating, the waiter came back and began to describe the dessert specials, until both Taron and Richard interrupted him with a sharp, short, “No!” 

Richard’s face flushed and he offered the waiter a shaky smile. “No, thank you, sir. Just the check, if you don’t mind.” 

Richard had insisted on paying, despite Taron’s repeated attempts to either pay for the whole thing or toss in his own portion, and they left quickly, for a repeat of the painfully silent car ride back to Taron’s flat. 

Once they’d arrived, Richard unbuckled his seat belt and started to open the door, but Taron had stopped him. 

“‘S okay, Rich. Why don’t we say goodnight now?” he’d muttered. Richard had cast his eyes down and nodded. “Thank you for dinner.” 

“Thanks for coming,” Richard had said quietly. “Have a good evening.” Taron had nodded and practically fled from the car, his heart thumping in his chest. 

Now, here he is, in bed alone at an absurdly early hour, and his heart is still thumping, but from something else. They’d tried it, going out, and it hadn’t worked. That isn’t what’s upsetting him, though. Sure he’s sad that their attempts to turn their relationship into something more haven’t worked; he’s been looking forward to more. The excitement of more between he and Rich has kept him going for longer than he cares to admit, and now that he knows it won’t work between them, the letdown is hard. 

But what’s really hard is the crushing feeling that something has changed between them. He’s closer to Richard than he is with almost anyone else. Rich is kind and funny and smart and the idea of losing him in any way, any capacity, as his friend, is devastating. He can’t shake the feeling that that’s what’s happened, though, and it’s too much for him to handle.

Taron burrows deeper underneath the covers and shuts his eyes. 

-------

The next morning, Richard rolls over in bed and squints against the bright sunlight. The first thing he’d done after getting home was fix himself a drink, then another, and another. It’s making the early morning sun a bit harsher than usual, and it’s, blissfully, all he can focus on for a minute. Then the previous evening floods back, and he buries his face in his hands. 

He’d been so stiff, so uptight, so worried that everything was going to go wrong that he’d ruined it all. He’d wanted Taron to like him so badly that he’d been unable to think of any reason why Taron would like him in the first place. He’d been unable to think of a single thing to say that hadn’t already been said, and then their night had ended obscenely early. 

After a shower, choking down a late breakfast and trying not to puke, he decides to fire off a text to Taron. Bugger it, he thinks as he types it out and sends it before he can lose his nerve. 

Hey. Thanks for going with me last night.

It takes twenty minutes for Taron to answer when it normally takes just a minute or two-the man is glued to his phone, always searching for cat videos and recipes-and the fact of that doesn’t escape Richard’s radar. 

No problem.

Richard’s heart sinks at the reply. It is blunt, matter-of-fact, to the point. There’s no banter, no back-and-forth. He takes a deep breath and plunges forward. 

Wanna grab a beer later? 

This time his reply takes two hours to arrive, during which Richard has taken to pacing the floors, worrying, flipping through channels. When it finally comes in, he leaps on his phone and hates himself for being so manic. 

Not today. Maybe next week.

There is no question mark at the of his sentence, he is not asking Rich if he’s free next week. He is making an excuse, deflecting from the question Rich had asked him. Rich quietly clicks his phone off and slides it onto the coffee table. His heart sinks, and tears well up in his eyes, unbidden. He sits on the couch, the low evening light just starting to filter in through the windows. 

Well, he thinks, at least I know where we stand now. He has taken the best friendship he’s ever had and ruined it in one evening, or so it seems. He knows he should leave Taron alone now. Their date had gone disastrously bad, the kind of bad that you write a shitty movie about, and he knows he should just let it be and see what happens naturally. 

This, of course, is something Richard simply can’t do. 

He spends the evening wallowing, watching bad TV and going to bed early. When he wakes the next day, he turns his phone back on, hopefully, and waits to see if Taron has sent him any messages. Maybe he’d misinterpreted the text last night, maybe Taron had just been in a bad mood or tired. Maybe, he thought hopefully, maybe he’d even misinterpreted how bad the entire date had gone! 

He waits a moment for his phone to catch up, but there are no notifications from Taron. One from his mom, another from his sister, and one from Jamie, but none from the person he really wants to talk to. His heart sinks, and he slides the phone back onto his nightstand, forgets about it for the rest of the day. 

-----------

When Richard texts him the day after their disastrous date, Taron sits with it for a while, lets it roll around in his head like a marble. His first instinct is to fire something back to Rich immediately, a gushing text about how he’s sorry it was so awkward and he wants to try again and no matter what he will always want Rich as a friend. 

But he stops himself. He tells himself he will wait, at least a little bit. 

During those twenty minutes, Taron’s mind whirls at a million miles a minute, and by the time he finally decides to text back, he’s convinced himself that Rich had only reached out to be polite. It would be just like Rich to do that, he thinks. The man is over-the-top polite in every scenario; he thanks everyone over and over, he holds doors open for strangers, he pushes his chair in when he leaves a table. It’s something that Taron has always admired in Richard, a quality that has always made him love him even more. 

But now he thinks that maybe Rich has only texted him to be polite. Maybe he’s just texting him to be nice so that their friendship doesn’t end on the sour note that had been their date last night. So when he answers, he is cordial, but there is no emotion behind it. He nearly scoffs when the text comes through and Rich pretends like he wants to hang out again; another attempt at being polite. He deflects, and their conversation ends. 

After he sets his phone down, he is filled with an immense sadness, like a weight pressing down on him. He wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed and hide under the covers again; disappear from the world until he feels ready to face it without Richard. 

But face it without Rich he must, because the show must go on. If life has taught him anything, it’s that.

---------

For the next two weeks, they are both at a stalemate, both men wanting desperately to reach out and both being too stubborn and pig-headed to do so. Taron sits in his flat, goes over the scripts that he’s sent, stares occasionally at his phone and pretends like he’s not hoping to see Rich’s name light up. He watches telly mindlessly, flipping through the channels and trying to distract himself from Richard’s face, which pushes its way into his mind more often than not.

Richard does the same, but he also cleans like a madman; when he’s stressed, he cleans. He scrubs the bathtub, polishes the countertops, and reorganizes his entire closet. He alphabetizes his bookshelves and rearranges his pots and pans. When he’s done, his flat is practically sparkling, and he’s still thinking about Taron.

Despite the fact that they are both constantly thinking about the other, neither of them wants to be the first to text. Neither of them think there is anything to text about. 

One night, though, Richard is sitting at home and he’s bored. He’s more than bored, he feels as though he will crawl out of his skin if he doesn’t get out of his flat right that very second. He’s done everything he can think of to keep himself entertained; he’s read books, he’s flipped through the channels, he’s listened to music. Nothing has kept his attention, and as such he is practically vibrating with anxiety and irritation. 

So he grabs his keys and his coat and he takes off for a drive. The night is cold and clear and it smells like winter. He marvels at the blue-black sky, inky and full, the weight of the world seeming to hang just above him. His car starts up smoothly, and he rolls down the windows just a bit despite the cold, letting the sweet night air blow into the car, making him chilly. 

He pretends like he doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, pretends he’s just driving for the sake of getting out of the house. Maybe he’ll stop and get ice cream or a coffee or even a beer, maybe, at least that’s what he tells himself.

He’s not surprised, however, when he finds himself pulling up outside Taron’s, walking boldly to the door, and knocking. His knuckles are sharp on the door, and he feels like he’s never heard anything louder than this sound as it rings out into the night. 

There’s a long moment and T doesn’t come to the door. Richard considers just leaving, hanging his head and tripping back down the sidewalk. He wrestles with his brain for another moment, and is just about to turn around and leave when he sees the doorknob turn. 

And then Taron is standing there, and it’s like a punch to Richard’s gut, just seeing him. He’s wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tight white t-shirt, and he looks good, fuck, he looks good. His hair is fluffy and disheveled, and his face is slightly soft and puffy, his eyes blinking rapidly and confusedly in the bright porch light. He has been sleeping, Richard realizes, and he feels bad. 

“Rich? What the hell are you doing here?” Taron asks, his voice still thick and husky from sleep. It’s a valid question...what the hell is he doing here? 

He is unable to say anything for just a moment as he just gazes at Taron. They’re only a few feet away from each other, but it feels like miles, and the air feels electrically charged with everything that’s not being said. Richard wants to reach out and grab Taron, pull him close to his body, bury his face into the sweet spot on his neck where his skin is always the softest, tell him how much he has missed him and how he doesn’t care if they ever go on another bloody date again, he just wants him, all of him, exactly this way. 

Instead, he stands just so many feet away, his arms crossed over his chest in an effort to look casual but really just making him look uncomfortable, which he is, and then he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Well?” Taron asks, and his voice sounds slightly hysterical. “It’s 11:30 at night, what are you doing on my porch?” 

Rich is slightly shocked at hearing how late it is; he’s been so in his own head lately that time has had almost no meaning. I missed you, he wants to say. I am here because I cannot imagine my life without you in it in some way. Because I missed the sound our voices make when they’re together. Because I missed your laugh. Because I missed being near you. He can’t say these things, though; he doesn’t know why, he just knows that he can’t. So he shrugs, struggling to maintain his nonchalance, and before he knows it he blurts out “Are you hungry?” 

Taron’s eyes narrow. “You came to my house at 11:30 p.m. to ask me if I’m hungry.” The words fall out of his mouth flat, and Richard suddenly feels like the biggest fool. It is over between he and Taron, and he has been unable to accept that. He has to. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, shifting his gaze to his feet. He hears a tiny sigh escape from Taron’s mouth. 

“Give me a minute,” Taron says, and Richard looks up just in time to see T disappear back inside. When he comes out five minutes later, he’s wearing worn-in jeans and a thick sweater; he tugs his front door closed, locks it, and looks at Rich. “Where to?” 

----------

They end up at a shitty all-night diner, the kind you see in indie movies and read about in novels with beveled edge pages. There’s only two other people inside, a pair of weary-looking old men eating limp sandwiches. There’s one waitress, bustling around behind the counter, refilling the coffee pots and wiping everything clean, and a bell rings out as Taron and Rich push the door open. They ease into a booth, their bums sliding across the cracked, faded leather. Rich runs a finger along the edge of the table, cracked formica. 

“Not exactly five-star accommodations,” Rich says with a small smile as he hands Taron a menu from the stack at the other end of the table. 

“It’s fine,” Taron says, meeting Rich’s smile with one of his own and cracking his menu open. 

The drive over had been silent, but the silence was not unwelcome or hostile. They were not trying to impress each other or mend any fences; they were simply together, as they’d been a thousand times before. 

Now the waitress bustles over and asks them if they need a moment before ordering; she is tired, and her voice suggests she’s been here for hours. They both order coffee, nothing more, and she sets down two mugs, fills them, returns with cream and sugar. 

Rich smirks as he watches Taron dump in his customary truckload of sugar, and outright laughs at the look on his face after he takes a big gulp of it. 

“Stuff’s horrid,” Taron whispers, but he is smiling still. Richard takes a drink of his own and nods hastily. It tastes burnt and bitter but he’ll always be grateful to that cup of coffee, because it breaks the ice between them, gives him enough courage to speak. 

“So what’ve you been up to the last couple of weeks?” 

Taron stirs his coffee absent-mindedly. “Not much. You?” 

“Yeah, not much.” 

“I--I’m glad you came by. I’ve missed you,” Taron says. “A lot,” he adds, under his breath. A warm feeling spreads in Richard’s stomach, his heart flutters a bit.

“Why didn’t you text, or call me?” Rich asks. 

“Why didn’t you text or call me?” Taron fires back, a steely glint in his eyes. It doesn’t upset Richard, it makes him smile even more. Taron has always been stubborn, and it’s one of the things Rich loves best about him. It can be infuriating at times when you’re begging him to just do something simple, but it also means that he’s stubborn about what he loves, too. If he’s being pig-headed, it means there’s still something there. 

“I thought I’d buggered our date up so badly that I’d ruined everything. I didn’t want to bother you. Especially after how you answered my text the morning after,” Rich says. 

“I thought you only texted me to be nice. You’re always so polite, I thought you were just doing it because you thought it was what you were supposed to do,” Taron says in the tiniest of voices, and it breaks Richard’s heart a little. He imagines Taron, sitting in his flat, thinking that his best friend, his...whatever-the-hell-they-were, was only talking to him to be polite. He impulsively reaches out and catches Taorn’s hand across the table. 

“I’d never lie to you, T. I’d never do anything disingenuous to you. You mean too much to me,” Richard says earnestly, squeezing Taron’s hand. “The truth is that I’ve missed you so much these last few weeks that it actually, physically, fucking hurts. It sounds dramatic but it’s true. I wanted nothing more than to ring you a million times. I just kept replaying our disastrous fucking date over and over in my head…” 

Taron laughs. “It really was brilliantly awful. What happened?” 

Richard passes the mug back and forth between his hands. “I don’t know, I wanted to impress you so bad. I picked the nicest restaurant and I dressed nicely. I was just so nervous, and I wanted you to like me so badly…” 

“God, Richie, I would’ve thought you knew me well enough to know that I’m impressed by you exactly the way you are,” Taron says lightly. “I mean, you’re the most talented actor I’ve ever seen. But besides that, you’re funny, and smart, and incredibly kind. You’re the kindest person I know. And the fact that I even get to know you is amazing. So, you see, you’d already done the impressing by the time we even got to the date.” 

He says all this effortlessly, as though these are things he just inherently knows and has thought about for ages. He says them as those his words are just true, as if they don’t mean everything in the world to Richard. But they do. 

“T, I...can we start over? With everything?” Rich’s cheeks flush with a hint of pink, and his hands are now laid, flat, on the chipped formica table. They are shaking, just a bit, from the nerves and a rush of love and the wholeness of it all. Taron reaches across and grips both of Richard’s hand in his. 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Taron asks, a grin slipping onto his face, and Richard matches it eagerly. 

------

They leave the diner an hour later, full of bitter coffee and a slice of apple pie that they’d shared, and Taron looks up at the sky. Snow is swirling around them in great tufts, coming down in a dizzying array of white. Richard���s car is already covered in it, and their shoes, hastily selected sneakers instead of the boots that would’ve been more helpful, slip and slide through the fine white powder. The world is still, at almost 1 a.m., as the snow cascades down around them. 

“It’s beautiful,” Taron says, his voice as soft as the flakes that land in his hair. His eyes are shining with the reflection of the snow and the bright streetlamp.

Richard reaches out and pulls Taron close to him, finally nuzzles that sweet spot on T’s neck. Taron scrunches his face up and laughs a little, and the sound is like music to Rich’s ears. “Not as beautiful as you,” he whispers in Taron’s ear. Taron leans over and impulsively, madly, kisses Richard. It is insistent and present and better than anything they’ve shared together so far, somehow. It is a joining together, a reminder of why they started this in the first place, an erasure of their terrible first date. Richard smiles into it. 

“Come back to my place?” Taron asks, and Richard nods. He laces their fingers together and leads Taron to the car, towards Taron’s house, towards a future together.

[lupienne]

Thought I’d post part of a Negan fic I started back after #174 (Negan’s second-to-last issue) This is about half of it. Like a few of my one shots, it’s just been sitting around waiting for me to get off my ass (or maybe on my ass in front of the keyboard!) and finish it.

Anyway, it takes place after #174...Negan is still living in the dumpy house all by his lonesome.

--

Living out here was purgatory. It wasn't like I was physically trapped in the rundown house or tied to this patch of earth. Not physically, no. But something kept me here nonetheless. Maybe the pieces of Lucille had cast hooks into me, and to move beyond their range was unthinkable.

Either way, I felt as stuck as a fly in honey. My mind wasn't numb like back in the days after Lucille died. I had all sorts of thoughts and feelings pressing on me but I tried to keep them out. A futile struggle to hold up an avalanche. I didn't want to feel that shit. Feeling stuff hurt.

But my ability to go numb had been lost. My mind-freezing machine was broken. Some days I damned Rick Grimes or Maggie or Dwight... I fucking cursed them for ripping away the shields of my mind and leaving it exposed and bleeding.

Most days I placed blame where blame was due. I damned myself.

Summer came to a close. Soon the leaves would start changing color. I dreaded it. Lucille had loved autumn. Maybe I'd bring the colored leaves to decorate her grave. Make some kind of wreath to hang on her cross. But when autumn ended, winter would come. I wasn't sure I'd survive it.

Here and then, Rick would swing by and drop off a crate of supplies. He never stayed long. Sometimes he just dropped the fucker at my door and left, not bothering to wait for me to come home from foraging. I'd return and there it would be. Not even a goddamn love letter. I wasn't too proud to beg him to stay and chat, but he never did.

Fucking Prick.

I guess I should be grateful that he gave me supplies at all. Just like old times. Paying me my dues. That was a laugh. Before, I'd been rolling in excess and I didn't really need the Alexandrian's tributes. Yeah, they eased the life of my Saviors and myself, of course. But we didn't need it.

Now, it's just a reminder of how inadequate I am out here on my own. There's weeks when I've only survived because of the food Rick brought. When I can't find or snare game, when the cans I scavenge end up being foul and causing me hours of shitty distress. Maybe Rick brings me things for the same reason he kept me alive: to rub my face in my failure.

Whatever. Food is fucking food. Just eat it and don't think of the fucking reasons behind it.

I try not to think at all anymore. I wish I could lose my mind along with my numbness. Maybe I'd be happier if I broke entirely, if I just fractured into pieces and put them back into a new person. If I just wasn't... me... anymore.

It's hard living with a person you hate.

-

A couple of weeks into fall, I gathered a bunch of acorns. In my youth, I remember reading some book where a guy ground acorns into flour and made bread or pancakes or some shit. I have no idea if that's even feasible, or whether I'll just end up poisoning myself. At this point, it's something to do. I've been distracting myself with projects.

I cleaned up my living space in the house and boarded up most of the windows except one. I got myself a proper bed instead of a pile of blankets on the floor. I made that wreath for Lucille. Spent hours boiling and storing water for the winter from the river two miles from here. Been trying to make venison and rabbit jerky. And when I can't block my thoughts any more, I sit before Lucille and blubber like a fucking baby. Just for one minute...one fucking second...I wish I could hear her voice, or feel her hand smoothing through my hair. I'd fucking slaughter a village to feel that again.

Fuck me, here I am, smashing acorns with a hammer and crying...again.

I wiped my eyes and proceeded. From the nearby woods, I thought I saw a flash of movement. I took my eyes off my work for a split second, while the hammer descended – and smashed right on top of my fucking thumb.

I jumped up, screaming swears as the pain shot through like a lightning bolt. Bending double, tucking the injured hand into my belly.

“Goddamn it! Fuck!” Let's do the sensible thing. Whip down the hammer. Kick over the rock and the acorns and scatter all the hard work, sending the acorn flour all over the fucking ground.

I almost didn't care if the walkers came. Let them come. Maybe I'll throw my head back and let them have my throat. Fuck it. Fuck it.

I whirled around, staring at my dumpy-ass house, and the woods of colored leaves, Lucille's grave that wasn't even her in there because I left the real her to rot a lifetime away – I looked at my stupid fucking house and just fucking screamed.

No walkers came. There was nothing here. I was alone. I was the loneliest fucking thing on this planet.

My vision was blurry. I kicked that fucking cross over. “Why the fuck did you have to die?!”

That goddamn weak woman. She had to give in and leave me, she had to give up on me, she had to just let the sickness take over and-

“I'm sorry...” I scrabbled for the cross, righting it again. One of the sticks had splintered. I'd have to make a new one. The sight of it put me on my knees, and I huddled there, crying like a goddamn baby. Every shuddered breath made my thumb throb in time.

If she'd just stayed... I wouldn't have turned into this.

A monster.

Alone.

A fucking wreck.

I had to get some sticks to make a new cross. I stood, numb as fuck. Better take the shotgun with me. Might need it. For whatever was moving in the woods. I heard rustling but saw nothing. I didn't really care, as I moved into the dense green growth.

I wasn't really taking that shotgun with me for defense.

I wasn't really gathering sticks.

I was just... ready.

Maggie had given me a second chance. I mean, that's not how she saw it, but that's what it was in the grand scheme of things. Maybe that's not what it was at all. It was just a fucking epiphany. The fuck-you-up-the-ass realization. I had spoken it out loud in my pathetic voice, as I groveled at her feet. The undeniable truth that I wanted to die.

That I was over and fucking done. Before she came, I was slogging through in denial, thinking it here and there, flirting with it. Grazing my fingers over it like a teenager afraid to touch a chick for the first time. A breath held in the lungs in anticipation.

Maggie made it all crystal clear. When I burnt the second bat, I knew there was no way to hold onto Lucille anymore. She was gone. I couldn't imbue her into anything...not a bat, not a grave, not into the night stars. She just wasn't there anymore.

And so...I didn't want to be here either.

(And that’s it for now. ‘Intriguing’, I know. Maybe I do plan on giving Negan a happy ending. Though his idea of a happy ending might be just... ending it. XD)

[faee-riee]

let me see your soul; pt. I

let me see your soul;

SoulMateAU! OCs

\\ where everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate.

TRIGGER WARNING: A few swears, but other than that, none !

--------------------

     It was depressing, to say the least - to witness people halt in their tracks as they meet eyes with a total stranger then suddenly, sparks fly. It is a monumental moment in every person’s life: they meet their lover, they can start a family with their lover, they can turn grey with their lover. However, they obviously do not know the risks of locking eyes with their lover.

     Elena rested her chin on the palm of her hand as she peeks out the window at the tops of people’s heads, trying to find a subject to illustrate. Her gaze locks onto a couple parting ways, seemingly, for good. The girl walks away as the boy stands dazed. He stares at her shrinking form until she disappears out of his life completely. He looks heartbroken and that is exactly what ignites the fire inside of her. Elena’s brows furrowed together and she gripped her stubby pencil.

     What’s the point in dating another person if you know they are not the one? Were they really soulmates? Is it possible for a soulmate to be unrequited? If so, is this man really heartbroken or is he just going through the notions? Either way, it’s just more wasted time that you could be using to do something more productive. The fact that some people pretend to be, bothers me. They don’t know what heartbreak looks like; and,  they should be elated that they don’t.

     Elena feels her pencil snap from the pressure that has been put on it in the midst of her irritation. She doesn’t need to look down to process what happened, instead she allowed her eyes to close as she sighed in frustration, “You’re kidding me.” She opens her eyes and gets up from her task chair to walk across her studio to where she keeps her graphite pencils. Passing by the door, she glances out to see her dad’s slumped form in his armchair. Elena frowned to herself by continues to open the drawer containing her regular graphite pencils. After tugging at the handle of the drawer, she groans at how light it feels and runs her fingers through her hair before looking inside.

     “Empty. Okay. This is fine,” reaching for the other drawer, “Anything is okay. I’ll make do with whatever I find.”

     She prays that it is filled with graphite sticks, pencils, pens, anything - but, alas, nothing. Deflated, Elena truds back to her seat and rests her head on her desk. Her lips involuntarily assumed a pout as she thinks back to her dad - she’s never seen him look that down before. Minutes pass by before she gets up and heads to her closet. She psychs herself up as she changes to go out to buy another bulk of her art supplies. Usually, she would ask her dad to buy her art supplies when he goes out to buy groceries but he hasn’t been in the mood to go outside. The food stashed at their house has been diminishing slower than normal so they did not need to head out as often. Elena deduced that her father had not been eating properly and chastised herself for not realizing sooner. She makes his favorite foods constantly, but it’s still never enough for him to finish a bowl. At the dinner table, she would look into his eyes and see a piece of his soul missing as each day goes by. His facial expressions lost its warmth: his soft dark hair, his smile, his dimple, his laugh lines. All of them were replaced with short strokes of depression etched onto his skin. Elena hated seeing him like this, and she hated her mother even more for making him like this. She has tried to convince him to go out and meet new people, telling him that maybe there was a mistake but, this would only bring up emotions that she would rather keep subdued.

------

     Her father’s eyes crinkled into slits, “No, listen to me, Elena. Your mother was my only shot. She was my person! My love! She left with all the color! This shouldn’t have happened -- no, this doesn’t happen! Who else has experienced something like this? No one! This is a predestined thing, and you know you fucked up when it turns out that you and your soulmate aren’t meant to be.”

     “But dad! Who says that she was your one shot? Who says that--”

     “No, Elena. Please, hear me out,” his sharp eyes softened considerably as he regarded her tense stance, “Her leaving isn’t the only thing that saddens me. It’s you.. You had to witness this, and you had to adapt to my behavior. I can no longer see the vibrant explosions of your work that you created. Your heart and soul. While you couldn’t see them the way I saw them, I saw you in your artwork. Along with that, I lost the colors of your warm brown eyes, your olive skin, your long black hair. That hurt my heart because all of those colors were you! All of them, painting or appearance.”

     He let Elena process what he said and continued when he saw tears form in her eyes, knowing that she needed to hear this for her own good.

     “I wasn’t able to hide the hurt and, I’ll admit, I let it get the best of me. But seeing you notice and start to use more colorless mediums that I told you about, just so I wouldn’t be sad made me realize that you had hidden yourself for my sake.,” he stood up from his chair and walked over to Elena to embrace her, “I’m sorry I got angry earlier.”

     “Elena hid her face in her father’s chest, “It’s okay, dad, I’m sorry I pushed.”

     “I don’t want you worrying about me like this, honey. Could you do that for me?”

     “I can’t promise you that. I’m sorry.”

     “I know, baby. But please try? I hate seeing you like this more than anything.”

     “I’ll try my best.”

------

     Elena stared at her reflection for a few more minutes and then grabbed her sketchbook before heading out into the kitchen to see which groceries she needed to buy. Okay, potatoes, carrots, chicken broth, what else..? Her dad slowly stood up, “You’re going out?”

     “Yep. Ran out of some art supplies-- well, actually, all of them. But! I thought I’d restock on food while I’m out.”

     Elena turned around and her dad was at the kitchen island, taking note of what was gone in the fridge, “What else do you need?”

     “No, dad. Sit back down,” she pointed back to the chair and threw a playful glare at him, “I’ll be the one getting all the stuff today.”

     Her dad smiled softly, “You don’t need to, I can do it. I know you don’t want to risk going outside.”

     “I never said that you can’t do it,” Elena rolled her eyes, I know that you shouldn’t, “I’ve been in this house the majority of them time, that window really blocks where most of the action happens. So, I had the brilliant idea of actually putting myself in the action for once.”

     She closed the fridge and smiled at him, “I’ll be fine. I’ll be out and back in no time, you wouldn’t have even known I left.”

     “Why are you taking your sketchbook then?”

     Elena walked over to the keyring and grabbed the spare key and put on her sunglasses, “I’ll be in the action this time, remember? I’ll do rough sketches of things and come back home to add more details.”

     She walked up to her dad and stood on her tiptoes to give a kiss on his cheek then headed for the door. Once she stepped out, she realized that she actually truly missed being outdoors. While her parents were together, seeing how in love they were - it made her long to be in a relationship with someone like that. So, as a little girl, she always wanted to be outside staring at random boys around her age until she locked eyes with them. Of course, none of them were the one as she still sees in shades of black and white. Once her mother left them, she refrained from going outside as much as possible for two reasons. First being so she could stay and keep an eye on her dad to the best of her abilities, and second is to not risk ending up like him. She walked down the sidewalk until she turned onto the main road where all the businesses were. Elena waltzed through the doors of her local grocery shop and navigated herself to the vegetables. At times like this, she wondered if seeing in color would really make a difference. Words like Orange, Green, Vibrant, and Dull were just words. She knew basic things like, the sky is blue, grass is green, trees are brown, and clouds are white. But they meant nothing because she couldn’t manifest what she’s never seen. She picked up a carrot that did not look physically deformed and gave it a light squeeze to see if it was spoiled or not. Because she couldn’t rely on color, she depended on her other senses to make sure she was not buying potentially poisonous ingredients. She tossed a few more into the basket before continuing the same process with potatoes.

     Elena rounded the corner into the aisle containing the chicken broth. Okay, a little rectangular carton with a picture of a chicken shouldn’t be that hard to find, right? It was. The relatively short length of the aisle seemed to drag on forever as there were multiple small rectangular boxes with a picture of a chicken. She browsed each row on the self reading the titles since she did not recall any unique features of the one they normally buy. Her walking back and forth in the same row did garner some unwanted attention.

     Things like, “Poor girl, remember when we had to live like that?

     “Colors really change the game.”

     “Isn’t she like, twenty-one? How has she not found her soulmate?”

     “I’m so glad I have you now.”

     “I don’t appreciate color enough!”

     They were poorly whispered around Elena. She heard every single comment, but she carried on with what she was doing until she found what she was looking for. Smiling softly to herself, she placed the chicken broth into the cart and grabbed a few more for good measure so she doesn’t ever have to do that again. She made her way to the self check-out, as she wanted to desperately get away from the eyes of those who saw her earlier, and paid for her items then immediately beelined to the exit.  Elena peered into her bags to recount her items as she went through the doors only to run into a wall, effectively knocking her and her things to the ground.

     A voice appeared, “I’m so sorry! Let me get those for you!”

     Elena’s eyes saw a hand frantically grab for her sunglasses and her gaze couldn’t help but trail up the person’s arm until she met with this person’s eyes.

     “Oh shit.”

     She stared at this man’s face as it slowly started to warp into something unknown to Elena. Something new and scary - but so refresing!

     “Definitely not what I thought my soulmate’s first word to me would be. But that works, too. I’m Adolfo.” He bent down to pick up the other items before he reached his hand out and patiently waited for her.

     Elena’s mind wanted to start a war with her subconscious, but she put it on hold as she processed more colors becoming more saturated. She doesn’t know what she’s seeing, but she wants to see every single bit of it. It started with the color of his eyes, his skin, his hair, then it moved to the color of his shirt all the way to his shoes. Before she knew it, all her surroundings had painted themselves in all the colors known to mankind. She looked up to the sky, blue. Then to the trees, brown - her eyes went to the grass surrounding the base of the tree and jumped back up to the leaves on the tree, and green? A clearing of the throat from behind her made her take his and and jump up, apologizing profusely to the individual who wanted to get past them.

     Her mind clicked and Elena whipped around to face the man who was flipping through her sketchbook, “Oh god. I said that out loud didn’t I?,” she was mortified. 

     He looked up and smiled, “You sure did, cutie. What’s your name?”

     “I’m sorry, it just slipped out of me. I’m.. Elena.”

     He cocked an eyebrow, “And that’s your real name, correct?”

     “Of course! What makes you say that?”

     “You hesitated.” Adolfo shut her carefully shut her sketchbook and handed it to her.

     “Oh...”

     “Well! Nice to meet you Elena, like I said before: I’m Adolfo. Your elated, and less talented, soulmate.”

--------------------

Author’s Note: It’s been awhile. Writing got rusty, but with all this online learning classes, an opportunity to write more stories came up. Revised the first part got tired on the rest :p This is actually supposed to be a short story for my english class, but I think I’ll make it into a series? Who knows. Hopefully through this, I improve some more and get better ideas! 

I hope that you guys are staying safe and calm. If you are struggling with something and just need to vent, I’m here if you’re comfortable with that. I won’t push. In any case, if it’s more serious (because I know that some people are in unfortunate circumstances) please, don’t hesitate to seek help. People are here for you in this time of need, and they care for you.

Below, I’ll list hotlines that you or someone you know may need:

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255 National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE U.S. National Domestic Violence Hotline: (800) 799-7233 The Trevor Project: (866) 488-7386 Crisis Text Line: Text ‘START’ to 741-741 National Runaway Safeline: 800-RUNAWAY (800-786-2929) True Colors United: (212) 461-4401

Stay safe and Take care. -s.

[hazedazethestealthhero]

Words Unspoken

“But times running out and you made this decision already without us having a fun chance to figure out how to make things work”

Your idea on the big factors as to why I’m leaving: How you treat me, how you question how I spend my money, and my standards of a clean house.

You said you would wait to respond to my responses in order to be able to come at me with a level head and be respectful. But of course, things escalated again. That’s both of our faults.

We rushed into this house. It was only meant to be a stepping stone. I know it wasn’t right to just make the decision without discussing it first, but honestly, I feel like I would’ve caved into staying longer even though I desperately need to leave. To just continue spiraling down. 

I don’t necessarily think you’re being over dramatic. But I think you know that you’re twisting that knife with some malicious intent. I wasn’t making this decision to hurt everyone. I was making this decision to help. Maybe it is a bit selfish that I am making this decision to help mostly myself. But sometimes you have to put yourself first.

I’ve been constantly trying to put you and the girls first. I care, and you seem convinced I don’t. If I didn’t care I wouldn’t have dropped everything to rush down to Kentucky to go get your sisters. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have taken you to the courts to fill out the necessary paperwork and get guardianship of them. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have made multiple shopping trips to try and help them get new clothes. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have taken them to the doctors/dentists. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have made multiple trips to and from their schools when they called or when they needed to come home when you weren’t answering your phone.

I never asked you to repay me for those and I never would. I did those things because I care. And I would do them again just the same.

I love you.

I love the girls.

I love our third roommate.

I love our animals.

I’m sorry that as of this moment I need to leave. That you consider this me abandoning you and our family. 

I’m sorry that you think me physically leaving is basically giving up and throwing it all away.

In your eyes, I am now deemed as weak and worthless. That now thoughts of tormenting me plague your mind.

But it’s because of how toxic you are growing. How your toxicity is spreading and affecting those around you. It’s a big factor in my decision for leaving though it isn’t the only reason.

It’s starting to affect me so bad. 

I don’t know if you’ve always been like this and I’ve just been able to handle it and now the dam is broken in me or if this is how you’re becoming now and I simply can’t handle it.

It’s kind of shitty to say that overall despite how I’m feeling, it was still more important to pay rent.

“Idk dude you do you

You gave up on everything

It’s just over now

Our social link is fully reversed”

In part, yes I am retracting my support. I can see your point on that. It might mean hardly anything to you but I was still willing to pay a couple months of my rent after moving out to help transition you and the family after my departure. Even with everything, I still want to at least help the best I can in my current situation. I’m sorry it’s just not to the full extent that you want it to be.

You bring up the argument that it sucked to watch me splurge on fast food and clothes for myself when you were spending your money on groceries, that it was too bothersome for me to even cook. In part, I can see your reasoning. I did go out and spend my own money on myself. But I’ve also spent my own money to help the family as well. You use the link card for grocery money. And if there was ever a time to where you needed money, you know all you ever had to do was ask and I would try to figure out something for you and the girls. As for cooking, half the time it was an argument if I went to go use something that was designated for something else. You were the one doing the grocery shopping, I had no idea what was supposed to be stored and not touched and it’s known that I don’t really have too much of a sense for cooking on the fly. I guess, in part, I could’ve asked you, so I guess all I can do is accept that jab.

You brought up your side of the gas station incident.

Stating that it really messed you up that I refused to drink tap water and I was going to take the whole family out to the gas station an hour before the city curfew and that it was unsafe but you were mind blown that I was “just gonna do it”.

That we didn’t grow up “privileged like that either” and to go out for “over priced water”

That I only chose to go out for water because I was “directly effect and wanted it”.

It’s funny because the only reason why I told the girls to go gather everyone up for water to make a quick trip was because the youngest was asking if we could please go get water. I wasn’t doing it because of me solely. I was doing it because the kids asked me. 

But just the day before you and the girls walked to the front of the neighborhood to go see what was happening down the street sometime after 5PM. That was more safe? And then got upset that I didn’t want to go but it was okay to act like  you did at the gas station. I just don’t understand sometimes. That’s what I mean by I feel like you are hypocritical. I’m not saying I’m not, I know I can be some times.

Then you brought up the cleaning thing and how cleaning only seemed important when it effected me. That I dismissed the kids every time cleaning was brought up and I wasn’t interested.

It gets tiring to be on everyone’s case about cleaning constantly. It also really got to me because it’s not like you were working or the kids were doing school since the middle of March. It was okay for you guys to stay up all night and the house to be messy after I had spent time cleaning it just to wake up and see it a mess again. So yes, I was a bit crazy when it came to cleaning because there was no excuse for it to ever get like that. No excuse for messes to sit for longer than a day, sometimes no reason not be cleaned up immediately. Yes, I did dismiss the kids sometimes when cleaning was brought up. I have to accept that jab. I won’t make any excuses for it because mostly it steamed from me being so agitated that they only had the drive to get up and clean their messes so infrequently. 

I get that you and the girls weren’t raised with the same levels and standards as me, and yes efforts have been made, but it only really felt like those efforts were made as to stop hearing me bitch, moan, and complain about it. 

When I said that you didn’t understand why I had said that I felt like I didn’t get to talk and the only thing I could do was apologize, I wasn’t talking as a whole, I was talking about in that moment. You went off about how I was basically a piece of shit for doing what I’m doing and I just kept saying sorry and then said “I feel like we talked a lot so I’ll talk to you later” but then went ahead and put in that extra like sprinkle about how my decision was going to make you an unfit guardian and that I made a promise to stick it out when things got tough. That’s what I had meant when I said I didn’t feel like I got to talk and only felt like I was just apologizing profusely. 

“But at the end of the day you gave up

You weren’t strong enough, and I do feel bad for that

But I know I would never give up and leave you hanging

And if I knew you were feeling this bad I would have tried even hard to fix what you needed me to fix

But you never shared what bothered you you were never fully honest”

I’ve always tried being my most honest self with you. I’m sorry that my weakened mental state makes you feel like I’m just giving up. But I never would’ve brought you down like that when you were already feeling low. To call you that we were weak and that it brings shame to others.

You are a strong person. But just because I’m not “as strong” as you or strong in the way that you are, doesn’t mean I’m weak. 

I’m sorry I couldn’t meet your “expectations”. 

I’m sorry that this decision is screwing you and the girls over.

But I can’t say sorry for trying to take the time to heal myself.

“Enough is enough.

Everything I’m saying is proving you’re right about how I make you feel.”

You say you don’t understand my words but I don’t understand yours.

If you’re saying that your words are only proving mine right, then how can you claim that you don’t understand my words?

I don’t know what else I can say to make you understand that things are growing toxic so fast. I didn’t want it to fester anymore. I know in part I did make it worse. Sometimes it has to get worse before it can get better. We’ve dealt with worse before with our mothers, but I can’t handle it anymore. I’m not able to handle even a fraction of that heartache like I used to. But I didn’t want to try leaving when things were so bad that it only left us dying from the poison. I’m leaving in hopes to stop the spreading and to find the cure.

Then I see you posts about how you want to watch me cower in the shadows.

It only reaffirms my stance and me standing my ground on my decision. To know that you know I’m wounded but you’d like to see me suffer more, you are only proving my words right.

I’m not saying I’m 100% in the right. I know I’m not. In part my actions were that of a coward, I can see why you would say I’m not strong. I’m just sad that the very person who is making me feel like a coward is the very person who used to inspire strength in me.

I have to carry that weight in my soul for the rest of my life about how my decision is affecting everyone I care about.

Next

[fishylife]

Spoilers for Ep 30 of the Rise of Phoenixes

I was SO IMPRESSED WITH THIS EPISODE!!!!!!!!

- I love HOW SMART everybody is at this point! Literally all the characters who matter can see through the easy shit. I’ll expand more on this in each of the character points.

- One thing I absolutely LOVE about this show so far is how easy misunderstandings are cleared up. Misunderstandings are one of my LEAST favourite tropes ever, and I’m glad that any misunderstands are corrected very soon afterwards (e.g. Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei finding out about each other’s identity, Ning Yi finding out about Feng Zhiwei not being dead). In this episode, the misunderstanding was when Ning Sheng poisoned the food sent by Ning Yi to cause a rift between Ning Yi and Zhan Bi, but Zhang Bi saw through that immediately. Zhan Bi also knew right away when he met Ning Yi that he was the real Chuwang and not Ning Sheng. I’m not 100% on whether his deduction was due to any specific reason or whether it was just a feeling. I’m willing to bet on the latter, that it was a combination of Ning Yi maybe having some of the physical and personality traits of his mother, and also the solemnity of Ning Yi when he was speaking to the man for whom his mother died.

- Even with Zhan Bi not falling for Ning Sheng’s ploy, Ning Sheng had a plan B already set in motion. I’m actually quite impressed with his plot. Perhaps the only weakness was threatening Wei Zhi, because of how good s/he is at thinking on their feet. It would have been easier to threaten Ning Qi (like he had already done before).

- A big difference between Ning Sheng and Ning Chuan as big bads is probably that Ning Chuan has a much bigger ego. He was the first born son of the empress, so if he hadn’t messed up in any major way, he was probably going to be the crown prince anyway. Except he did mess up in many big ways and that led to his downfall. On the other hand, Ning Sheng doesn’t really care much about his current status. Even Shaoning makes a huge deal out of being a child of the empress (and looks down on children of concubines) but that doesn’t bother Ning Sheng at all. But Ning Sheng knows that he can get to the top just by using his wits.

- Ning Sheng and Chang Guifei are cold blooded af though. Ning Sheng is cool, but whenever Chang Guifei exerts her power, I get chills. Somehow, her soft power is even more frightening than Ning Sheng’s plots. Maybe it’s because for her, it’s about the power. She will never become Emperor, or even the Regent. Much of what she is doing is for Ning Sheng’s sake. I even think about her attitudes towards her siblings, and I feel a bit of fear. Her “love” for her elder sister was only a tool for her to get sympathy from the Emperor. The fact that she can “use love” so casually is so frightening to me. She tried to sneak around to find out what was happening with Ning Sheng’s plot. However, she was wearing a veil, and when she flipped up her veil, Ning Yi laughed. I wonder what, if anything, happened to her, and if there was any sinister cause to it.

- Shaoning moved to the background after her assassination plot on Ning Yi didn’t work. She isn’t as smart as the other characters, but she can still be used by Ning Sheng due to her hatred of Ning Yi. The friendship angst between Shaoning and Wei Zhi was interesting to me too. Wei Zhi was getting friendly with Shaoning, but likely not for any other reason than to simply not be on her bad side. Wei Zhi was trying really hard not to get involved, but since the “poisoning” incident of this episode, I think it’s clear that Shaoning will see her as an obstacle and an enemy.

- I am so, so impressed with Feng Zhiwei’s quick thinking in this episode. Neither Zhiwei nor Ning Yi knew what the poison was. From what we’ve seen in the story so far, Ning Yi will take the poison every time because he’d rather avoid rousing suspicion that he knew more than he appears to. For him, it’s always a risk he’s willing to take. However, after seeing that Shaoning took the poison willingly, I think Zhiwei realized that this was probably a safe risk to take. So when serving the drinks to the court, she added the “poison” to all the bowls. Honestly, this was such great thinking on short notice. I mean, the drinks was also kind of...plot device-y, since this is the first time we’ve seen food being served at court, but I’ll take it. I was super tense and riled up during this scene because Ning Yi seemed genuinely shook that his identity was being questioned. Luckily Feng Zhiwei saved him instead of playing the neutral party.

- Qiu Mingying is a smart mom, but we all knew that. When she and Feng Hao came to Wei Zhi’s house, Qiu Mingying had to speak in metaphors because there was no way Shaoning and her people were not spying on them. If I remember correctly, Qiu Mingying told Wei Zhi to go about his business as usual and not to mind them. But I think Qiu Mingying was also telling Feng Zhiwei that she should do what she must, and not worry about their safety. I wonder if this is the first step that Qiu Mingying is taking to accept Feng Zhiwei’s decision to be a court official even if she has to hide her identity. In any case, despite speaking in code, I thought this was a rare but nice instance of Qiu Mingying showing concern for her daughter and understanding that her child is involved in something bigger than they both might realize.

- I’m curious about Ning Qi. I wonder if he’s trying to play both sides, or truly just trying to stay as neutral as possible. When he came back to the palace, I think everybody had assumed that he was weak and naive. His mother wasn’t highly-ranked, and even she warned Ning Qi to steer clear of the brothers’ shady dealings. When he speaks with Ning Yi, he does seem like the younger 7th brother who’s entirely under the thumb of the 2nd prince. I don’t know if Ning Qi just has resting smiling face, but in court, he did have a smile on his face when Ning Yi was being accused. And when they were waiting for the Emperor, he had some encouraging words for Ning Sheng. I’m really curious if he has any ambitions or if he is really just trying to stay neutral/avoid suspicion.

- You can tell how tired the Emperor is in the last scene when he sees his sons + Wei Zhi in private court. When he was in court, I think he wanted to see how everything played out because he needed all of the information. He wanted Ning Sheng to go about his whole spiel because he needed to know what Ning Sheng had up his sleeve. It had never crossed my mind that Ning Yi might’ve been Zhan Bi’s child. I’m not sure why that is. Maybe it’s because Ning Yi and the Emperor seem to have a certain level of trust that just seems rather intimate. Anyway, I’m definitely interested to see how this will play out.

- I’m also not sure what Helian Zheng’s role will be moving forward, but I wonder if he will have a romantic subplot with Feng Zhiwei. He definitely is charming, but he also fits the “charming bad boy prince” type lol.

- I swear to god every time Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei are interacting on a one-to-one basis the sparks are flying like crazy. This is the case whenever they’re alone, like when Ning Yi told Zhiwei that their feelings had to stay in the darkness, or even in this episode when Ning Yi seemed so happy about being able to drink at Zhiwei’s home. I love that separately, Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei are strong, smart, ambitious, but when they’re together, they’re soft, kind, and emotional.

Ok that’s all I got for now but wow, the episodes just keep getting more and more tense.

[teaspoin]

Living- Part 2

This is a continuation to my series Meet the Winchesters. You can read it here.

Catch up: 1

Warnings: language, mentions of Hell, missing persons, language

Word count: 1718

Authors Note: I’m sorry this took so long to post. I had really bad writers block, so I skipped this part and wrote part 3 instead. It worked out, it gave me more of a straight forward idea. I spent a little more time on this part, and I really pushed to write more. Thank you guys for all the love, it means the world to me.

You left town right after you had killed the werewolf. You grabbed everything from the motel and got the hell outta dodge. Sam had taken the backseat of the Impala to spread out and sleep, while you couldn’t sleep.

“You should sleep,” Dean spoke.

“I can’t,” you replied. You could see he was tired, and you worried about him more than yourself. “Dean, I… I just killed something. I took a life. It scares me.”

“Why? It was going to kill us!” his voice got louder, but he still tried to be quiet for Sam.

“Dean,” you squeaked out. “I liked it.”

He wasn’t surprised, after all, he liked the job too. “It’s normal.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s normal?’”

“After it happens, I get an adrenaline rush. It’s like after you ride on a rollercoaster, you’re terrified to go back, but you want to get back on,” he explained.

“Really?” you sighed in relief. “I thought I was a psychopath or whatever. It just… felt good to do something.”

“Good people feel good about doing things that help others,” he said.

“Why don’t you think you’re a good person then?” you asked him.

“I’ve done things that aren’t good that I’ve enjoyed.”

You thought of your current situation. You didn’t think that taking a life was good, so how were you different from Dean? You wanted to know, but you didn’t want to push it.

“What?” you asked softly. You could tell he was hesitant, but he wanted to tell you.

“I went to Hell,” he said. “Real Hell. Long story short, Sam died and I made a crossroad deal. I got one year. When the year was over, I was dragged to the pit.”

“But, you went to Hell for someone else, not your actions,” you said.

“Yes,” he paused. “Hell isn’t just sitting alone for eternity. It’s… torture. Actual physical torture. They carve you and slice you in ways you wouldn’t think are possible. And when you’re gone, you’re suddenly made whole again.”

You could see the pain in his eyes talking about it, but he didn’t answer the question. He knew you were thinking about it.

“I was in Hell for 4 months up here, but down there? 40 years.” You gasped. You couldn’t believe he went through that for so long. “I wasn’t tortured the whole time, though. Everyday, I got a deal. I could get off the rack and start torturing others, or stay on. I stayed on for 30 years.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“And I liked it,” Dean quietly said. “I’m not proud.”

After he told you this, you still had one question. “How did you get out?”

“Cas,” he said. “He dragged me out.”

“Is that when you two first met?” you asked

“No, we first met when I tried to kill him in a barn, and after he burned the eyes out of my psychic friend.”

You chuckled quietly. “Hell of a way to make friends.”

He smiled. “Tell me about you, anything about you.”

“Uh…” you didn’t know what to say. “My life has been sad, and I have never gone on vacation.”

“Is that a hint?” he flirted. “Where do you want to go?”

You sighed. It wasn’t a sad sigh, more of a where-do-I-begin kind of thing. “Everywhere. I’ve always wanted to travel, my whole life. That’s kind of why I like being on the road so much. I like seeing everything I can.”

“You gonna have to narrow that list down,” he teased,

“Um,” you paused to think. “Washington, D.C., Virgina, Pennsylvania, New York, the whole west coast honestly. Germany, Britain, Greece, Switzerland, Iceland, Sweden-”

“I get it, everywhere.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “What about you?”

“Uh, nowhere overseas. I hate flying.”

“Really? I’ve only been flown once, and that was in 8th grade to Washington D.C. on a school trip.”

“I thought you wanted to go,” he questioned.

“I want to go again. I think you forget that I studied history, too. I got my bachelor’s in that. I just really love history.”

He laughed. You felt different with him, like you loved him so much that your heart could burst. He was laughing, you were laughing. You felt like you could be with him forever. Even though he could die at any given moment, especially when he was hunting, you knew it was him. You knew it was quick, and that you had said that you weren’t dating long enough, but tonight showed you that life is too short, especially being a hunter.

And in the heat of the moment, you said, “Marry me.”

He was taken aback. He had just talked about this earlier with you, and he knew you thought it wasn’t long enough.

“Tonight showed me something. You could’ve died, and I didn’t even realize how dangerous this job was. I don’t want to wait around just because of timing. Time is against us, and I don’t want to let it slow us down.”

“Poetic speech,” he smiled. “Why don’t we talk about it after you sleep?”

Tears started to form, but you tried to fight them back. You thought he wanted to marry you, he talked about it at breakfast. Maybe you were reading too much into things, and maybe he didn’t think the same way as you did.

“As someone once told me, it’s not a no, but it’s not a yes.”

You realized that it was a horrible thing to say. He saw how much it hurt you, but he didn’t know if you were even thinking straight. He thought that maybe you had too much adrenaline tonight, and maybe it wasn’t really what you wanted.

“Okay,” your voice broke. Falling asleep was hard, but it was waking up that was the bigger challenge. You woke up in the bunker, but Dean wasn’t next to you. You looked over at the clock and saw it was just before 10. Usually, he would still be sleeping.

You threw on a sweatshirt and headed out of your bedroom.

“Dean?” you called out.

You saw Sam in the hallway, and before you could ask him anything, he held his finger up to his lips, shushing you.

“Go back into your room!” he whispered-yelled at you. He brought you back to your room and told you to stay. You sighed and sat back down. You didn’t know what was going on, and you were worried that something was wrong.

Your worries were dismissed when Dean came in with a plate of breakfast.

“Come on,” he whined. “You’re never asleep when I try to make you breakfast.”

You giggled and he set down the tray. “I’m sorry I hurt you last night.”

“This is an apology breakfast?” you scoffed. “I understand what I said yesterday was hurtful, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it.”

“It’s not an apology breakfast, it’s more of an ‘I love you’ breakfast.”

You blushed at what he said. He always seemed to know what to say.

“Are you gonna eat?” he asked.

He made you pancakes, and they were really good. You didn’t understand why he thought that he was a bad cook, but if you didn’t get food poisoning, it was fine.

He just sat there, looking at you the entire time.

“What?” you said, your mouth full of food. He turned his back and opened this first drawer of the dresser. Carefully, he pulled out a ring box. He sat next to you and opened it.

“If you still want to,” his voice was shaken, you could tell he was nervous.

It was a simple ring, nothing fancy. You thought it represented your relationship with him well. He saw the smile on your face, and he knew it was time to ask the question.

“Y/N,” he said while getting down on one knee. “Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

You squealed and jumped off the bed, practically tackling him for a kiss. “Yes!”

He put the ring on your finger, and you both walked out of the room. Sam and Cas were waiting in the library.

“Check out the new jewelry!” you exclaimed, holding up your hand. They gave you both congratulations and hugged you. You wished this day would never end.

“As much as I wish I didn’t have to end this, I actually have to run some errands,” you said, picking up your purse from the table.

“I love you,” Dean whispered in your ear. You turned to him and gave him a kiss.

“And I love you,” you said. “I’ll see all of you guys later.”

---

You took your car to the store. You wanted to pick up some beer for the boys and some extra groceries. As you walked throughout the store, you had the feeling that someone was watching you. It was how you felt when you first met the boys. You grabbed your keys and put them in between your fingers. You knew that whatever it was, the keys wouldn’t do much, but it was better than nothing.

You reached in your purse to grab your phone when a man grabbed it and threw it on the ground.

“You come with us willingly,” he said, grabbing your wrist and flashing his black eyes. “Or we’ll kill you right now.”

“Okay,” you said softly, walking with them.

---

“Hey Y/N, I thought you would only be gone for an hour. Call me back,” Dean spoke into his phone after it went straight to voicemail.

“She didn’t pick up?” Sam asked.

“No, maybe her phone died. I can’t remember if she charged it last night,” Dean replied. Sam could see the worry on Dean’s face, but he knew Dean didn’t want to be too overprotective of you.

“We can go there if you’d like, just to make sure,” Sam said, trying to ease Dean.

“Maybe in a little bit, I don’t want to make a whole rescue trip over a dead phone,” Dean responded, forcing a smile.

You weren’t home within 15 minutes of the conversation, and Dean decided that he was going to take Cas to see what was going on. They arrived at the store and saw your car parked. Cas’ head perked up.

“Demons,” he said.