#i am but a soft and lonely sack of potatoes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fandomlurker · 4 years

Text

A Ponderous Rewatch: Bubba Bo Bob Brain and Cameo

Can I just say that I think I’m somehow getting worse at keeping the screenshot count down?

Neither the cameo nor the main episode in this post are animated by TMS, so that’s not the reason for the surprisingly high screenshot count. However, the regular episode is animated by Wang Film Production, who are the same folks that animated the very first PatB segment and have done most of the episodes I’ve covered so far, including the previous one. I can tell they’ve gotten a better handle at animating our main duo in the skit we’re looking at today, especially Brain. Wang Film Production is no TMS, but they’ve gotten very, very good at expressions. They’ve also seemed to settle into a rounded and soft design for Brain, something that they’re kind of known for among fans if I recall correctly. Pinky can still be a little…off at this point in time, though.

Moving on, the cameo that we’re starting with is animated by Akom Film Productions. They’re the folks who usually do the animation for the Chicken Boo and Goodfeathers episodes, and they usually do a pretty good job with those characters. As far as our mouse duo go, though, Akom has only done “Opportunity Knox” so far. You know, the one with the oddly nightmarish Brain close-ups. Thankfully we get none of that since it’s only a short bit.

So yes, onto the cameo in “Noah’s Lark”!

So this is actually a Hip Hippos episode, but luckily we don’t have to deal with them at all right now. The premise is the story of Noah’s Ark, obviously, but the character of Noah is done as a parody of the stand-up comedian Richard Lewis, who was somewhat popular in the 80s. The most modern and notable media he’s been involved in that people on Tumblr might know him from (or at least, what I think folks here might recognize, it can be a little hard to gauge that since both millennials and gen z folks are the main demographic of this site) are Robin Hood: Men in Tights where he played Prince John, and Curb Your Enthusiasm where he plays himself.

Noah is rounding up two of every animal to go onto the ark (which is a popular depiction of how the story goes, but is actually false: it’s supposed to be seven male and female pairs of “clean” animals of each species and one pair of “unclean” animals of the same species, but that’s as far as I’m going into that topic). He’s nearly finished the list and has just been mauled by the wolverine pair, and…

“Lab mice?...”

The fact that he’s specifically asking for a pair of lab mice raises a lot of questions that I don’t think we have time to unpack.

The pair of lab mice that he gets is, of course, Pinky and the Brain.

And Pinky is, for the very first time in the series, crossdressing, presumably to pass as a female mouse so he and Brain can survive the great flood by boarding the ark.

…This is also a lot to unpack.

“Check!” they both exclaim, although Pinky does it in a very deep voice for some reason.

Wow, look at the surprise and then hostile suspicion on Noah’s face there!

Their outfits are very 1950s, with Brain even carrying a suitcase. Anachronisms aside, these two really went all out for the “we are a normal, heterosexual pair” ruse, didn’t they? Not only is Pinky in a dress and a blonde wig, but Brain even put on a little bowler hat. Why did he feel the need to do that? Did he feel left out of dressing up otherwise? Was he afraid he wouldn’t look “manly” and hetero enough without it? I have so many questions…

“Whew! These pantyhose are killing me, Brain!”

Wow, for once it’s Pinky physically hurting Brain, even if it’s a relatively minor tug on the ear.

“I think I prefer knee-highs…”

…Pinky, you’re not even wearing pantyhose. What the hell are you talking about?

Assuming that this is just the result of an animation oversight (which, honestly, I’m certain it was), we now know that his disguise went so over-the-top as to include pantyhose which Noah wouldn’t normally see…and also it’s a type of pantyhose that Pinky doesn’t even like wearing, which implies to me that this is something Brain acquired for him.

There is just so much going on in cameos like these if you think about them for even a few seconds.

Also, I agree with Pinky. Knee-high pantyhose are much less uncomfortable to wear.

BONK!

So the mice are allowed to board and the audience is left to think that their little ruse worked, but immediately after the two run off and are out of listening range Noah rolls his eyes and says

“Who am I to judge?”

Heavily implying Noah completely saw through it and let them on anyway. Wow.

That’s the end of their cameo. Who’d have thought that this little scene would be the precursor to Brain having Pinky crossdress to disguise him as Brain’s wife so many times in the series? And who’d have thought that this very first time wouldn’t fool anyone at all?

But now let’s move on to the meat of this rewatch post:

We open to Acme Labs at night, as usual, though I’ve never noticed until now how lonely and eerie the place seems if you ignore our mouse duo.

“Pinky… I believe I have conceived my most brilliant plan to date!”

Oh boy, we have another first for today! Brain is very much a fan of using temporary mind control for his plans. It’s the method he falls back on the most, which is very interesting when you consider his various psychological issues involving having control taken away from him all his life.

“I shall use subliminal mind control to take over the world!”

“…Pinky?”

The hand-on-hip pose here is great.

“Today’s inside story is country mega-star Willie Ray Cypress!”

Uh, Pinky? Considering that this is pretty much the expression you had while looking at Pharfignewton, I am very, very worried about you looking at the Billy Ray Cyrus parody the same way.

“Don’t tell my head, my empty hollow head!~”

“You know I wouldn’t understand!~”

Same, Brain. Same. It’s just like Pinky to enjoy a song as earworm-y as this (not to mention how relevant this parody is to his everyday experience with Brain’s plans), but lord was the real song this is making fun of annoying as hell back in the day. Like, I was a small child at the time this song came out, and I still hated how often this would be played on the radio.

Luckily, Brain pounces on the remote’s off button and puts an end to the nonsense.

But oh, the look of sad betrayal on Pinky’s face is heartbreaking! I’m sorry, sweetie!

“It must be inordinately taxing to be such a boob.”

Heh, Brain said “boob”. /inner six year old

“You have no idea…”

“Pinky, do you know what a subliminal message is?”

“Something you leave on a subliminal telephone answering machine?”

Nice try, Pinky.

“No. It is a recorded message perceived only by the subconscious human mind.”

Two things here:

This diagram bothers me because my mind always interprets the way they’ve drawn the bottom of the cerebellum as the person shutting their eyes extremely tightly.

Brain using his own tail as a pointing stick is very, very cute and I love this detail.

“I have recorded such a message.”

He’s still holding his tail, aaaa!~

“Citizens of the world, you are under my control. You will do whatever I say…”

“Nice mix, but it’s not exactly danceable, is it?”

Oh, Pinky. Only you would sincerely compliment Brain’s incredibly dry mind control message and then immediately point out a flaw that has nothing to do with its purpose. Bless you, you stupid and wonderful little mouse.

I like how Pinky’s interjection startles the hell outta Brain for a moment, too.

“If people heard this message enough times, they would succumb to my control and we could take over the world!”

Notice that despite Pinky being a minor annoyance and despite the fact that Brain claims that everyone will be under his control, yet again it’s still both of them taking over the world.

“What do you think, Pinky?”

And he still wants Pinky’s input. It’s small and scattered and very, very subtle, but in my opinion this is Brain’s most frequent way of showing that he cares about Pinky. Brain likely isn’t even aware that he does it. Pinky might not be aware, either.

“I think I’m getting dizzy and I rather like it! Ahahahahahoo!~”

“Sometimes you hurt my head, Pinky…”

And yet, Brain. And yet…

“The only problem: How to get this message repeated worldwide airplay…?”

Offscreen, Pinky turns the TV back on and startles Brain again, but only for a moment.

Another great pose and expression here: Mildly annoyed, but interested and on the verge of an idea.

“I just adore Willie Ray!”

“I listen to his song twenty times a day!”

I…really don’t know why they chose to have this shot done with Brain walking over the “camera” towards the TV so we get a brief close-up of Brain’s mousey behind. It made me laugh, though, so I thought I’d share.

“Pinky… Are you pondering what I’m pondering?”

I’m also kind of obsessed with this brief expression of Pinky’s I unintentionally managed to capture. It’s a bit of a smug, knowing, and yet endeared look. I’m sure it’s completely unintentional on the animators’ part, but I love the idea it gives me of Pinky knowing exactly what Brain’s thinking but purposefully saying something entirely unrelated to playfully tease him.

“Well, I think so, Brain, but burlap chafes me so.”

To be fair, Pinky, I think burlap chafes everyone. And were you thinking about doing a potato sack race? That’s the only connection to burlap I can think of that would be in any way relevant...

“Country music, Pinky. I will go to Nashville and become the biggest country music star of all time! Everyone will hear my record and my subliminal message and I will take over the world!”

In all honesty, that would probably be easier to do in the early 90s when this takes place since country music wasn’t such a…well, “dead” is a bit of an exaggeration, but country music as a genre is incredibly unpopular nowadays with the occasional notable exception. In the early 90s? Not so much.

“Egad, Brain!”

This is the most enthusiastic swoon I’ve seen and heard from you yet, Pinky.

“Oh! But no, no… It takes people years of hard work to become famous, Brain.”

Well, that or they’re born into a famous family. Or they’re just rich.

“Why, take Kathie Lee Gifford for example: She did community theatre, and—“

I actually can’t find anything via Googling about Kathie Lee doing community theatre before she became famous. She seems to have studied music and drama in university, and had a folk music group in high school, but the only reference to theatre I can find is professional musical theatre in the late 90s.

It’s possible Pinky’s right, though.

BONK!

BRAIN! …Wait, where did you even get that tiny club?

“Stop talking, Pinky, I must think.”

You… Brain, I think I’m starting to see why some fans believe you may be as neurodivergent as Pinky is, but in a different way. I can’t in good faith elaborate on that myself, since I haven’t been diagnosed as such and it would be completely disrespectful of me to do so, but if anyone wants a good little theory on that, try here.

“I have calculated every ingredient necessary to become a country music mega-star. Read me the list, Pinky!”

He’s typing by hopping from one key to another, aww!

Eeeh, the lettering work on that computer is pretty bad, though.

“A cowboy hat.”

“Check!”

“A southern dialect.”

“Check, ya’ll!”

“Nice, Brain.”

The way Pinky says “nice” here reminds me of this meme. Also, aww, Pinky’s always ready with the compliments.

“Working class values…”

“I enjoy beef jerky and the comedy stylings of Gallagher. Check.”

His visible cringe at having to say he enjoys Gallagher is wonderful. I first heard about Gallagher through My Brother, My Brother and Me, but for anyone that doesn’t know, Gallagher is a frankly terrible prop comedian whose most famous act was smashing things on stage (usually fruits of increasing size) with a large mallet that he called the “Sledge-O-Matic”, ending with smashing a watermelon. It was apparently a mildly popular bit of comedy in the south. Does that sound entertaining? No? Yeah, that’s…that’s why Brain is cringing so hard.

“A song.”

“Check!”

A song titled “A Song”. Brain, sweetheart, I think you’re going to need to put in a little more effort than that.

“A name consisting of not less than three words.”

“From now on, I shall be ‘Bubba Bo Bob Brain’. Check.”

I would make fun of him for this name, but honestly it’s kind of genius in its bland simplicity.

“And…a height of at least six feet!”

“Aaa--guebuh…”

Whoops. Forgot about that one, huh?

“Drat!”

“There must be some way for me to increase my height…”

Gee, if only you had a fully operational mechanical human suit just laying around.

“Hmm, let me think…”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Pinky.”

He is trying his best!

“Faster, Pinky! Faster!”

…Why does Pinky have to spin the thread? The whole point of sewing machines like this is that they’re powered electrically, Brain. Are you just making him do this so Pinky feels included?

Oh. Oh no…

Brain’s “WTF?” face is great. He’s surprised and yet not at the same time, because things like this just happen when you have Pinky around.

“You amaze me, Pinky.”

“I do my best…”

A very cute exchange.

So instead of using the mechanical human suit they usually fall back on in times like these (maybe it’s under six feet tall?), the mice instead come up with…this.

“Proceed, Pinky.”

I have to give them some credit, regardless of how ridiculous this is, as sewing denim to make a very bizarrely thin and tall pair of jeans must have been an absolute nightmare.

“Ki-yi-yippee-yi-yo. How do I look?”

I’m getting flashbacks to the similarly deadpan singing of “Camptown Races” from last episode. Brain’s really on a western kick lately, isn’t he?

“Oh, very nice, Brain!”

Your finger-framing may be focused on the back of Brain’s head for some reason, Pinky, but your pupils are definitely pointed a bit…lower.

“It’s ‘Bubba Bo Bob Brain’.”

“You are my manager, Colonel Pinky.”

This is a reference to Elvis Presley’s manager, Colonel Tom Parker, who was honestly quite the bungler when it came to managing Elvis’ career. I honestly don’t think Brain’s making a subtle jab at Pinky’s competency here for once because Brain’s grasp of pop culture he’s not already interested in is surface level at best most of the time.

“You discovered me playing the guitar on the front porch of my humble pig farm. Any questions?”

“Oh, just one: When you farm humble pigs, how far apart do you have to plant them?”

“…If I could reach you, I would hurt you.”

Hey now, you’re the one that asked, Brain.

“But for now, on to Nashville!”

“On to Nashville!”

BONK!

“This is a pain that is going to linger…”

That’s what you get for rolling your eyes at Pinky’s enthusiasm.

No perilous car trips this time! Instead, the boys are getting bus tickets to Nashville.

“Two tickets to Nashville, please.”

“Ooh-wee!~ You’re a tall drink a’ water, aint’cha, darlin’?”

…Ma’am? Excuse me, ma’am? Ma’am, are you flirting with The Brain?

Like, sorry, that “tall drink of water” saying is not just to point out that someone’s tall. It’s specifically for flirting with someone who is tall and gorgeous and a refreshing sight to see, like a tall glass of water on a hot summer day.

This lady is flirting with a mouse on stilt legs.

I know that Brain’s disguises are prone to inexplicably work even when by all rights they shouldn’t, but…

“Actually, I am a lab mouse on stilts.”

Brain does his usual bold and plain truth shtick and I’m a little surprised that he didn’t react to what she said beyond that. Then again, this is Brain and he’s quite terrible when talking to women in general, so maybe we dodged a bullet here.

“…At least he didn’t ask me to pull his finger.”

I’ve worked in retail and food service for years, ma’am, and if that’s the extent of your experience with unpleasant men, consider yourself lucky.

“EGAD, Bibby-boo-bop-Brain! Round trips are so exciting!”

“It’s ‘Bubba Bo Bob Brain’, Pinky.”

“Right! Sorry. Zort!”

Honestly, Pinky’s version is much cuter.

“Concentrate, Pinky, concentrate!”

BONK!

“YES! This pain will definitely be with me a while.”

Brain out here looking like a bad Minecraft texture.

Hello again, Warner Siblings! Gosh, that little fringed western skirt on Dot is cute.

“’The Rowdy Ranch Nightclub’… What are we doing here, Boobie-baa-baa-Brain?”

I checked the official subtitles for this and yes, that is exactly what he mistakenly calls Brain here. We have had both of these two call each other “boob” or some permutation of it this episode.

Pinky and the Brain sure is a show that exists.

“…It’s ‘Bubba Bo Bob’ Brain. And according to statistics, and inordinate number of country western superstars have gotten their start at this very establishment.”

You probably didn’t need me to tell you this, but there’s no Rowdy Ranch Nightclub in real life. There is, however, “The Rowdy Ranch”, uh, ranch in Texas.

“Egad! [gasp] Do you suppose Minnie Pearl performed here?”

“One can only hope…”

Man, Brain, you are really laying the sarcasm on thick this episode. Come to think of it, he’s been slightly more sassy towards Pinky than usual this episode as well. I suppose he’s still sore about the end of the last one. You know, for reasons.

BONK!

At least he’s getting some karmic punishment for it, I guess.

“I am a telephone repairman from this area!~”

This little ditty this man is singing has bugged the hell out of me for quite a while, as it certainly sounds like it’s a reference to something but I never knew exactly what it was referring to until just now thanks to an old Animaniacs Usenet group from way back in the day: It’s a parody of the song “Whichita Lineman” by Glenn Campbell. The writers are really giving it their all with the pop culture references this time.

“When I give the signal, play the subliminal message tape.”

“Right-o, Bippie Bebop Balloola!”

“…Sometimes you frighten me, Pinky.”

Why, though?! Despite it being a mistake it’s honestly a goddamn adorable one. Why must you fear affectionate, innocent, unknowing malapropisms, Brain? Pinky’s still going to do what you told him to.

Anyway, Brain is ushered onto the stage as a newcomer and he’s…not exactly any more eloquent than Pinky was just now.

“Howdy, you all. Here’s a little…ditty I wrote. Hope you enjoy it…you all.”

Here’s the thing: Brain’s not one to get stage fright, and while he’s not the best actor he’s still usually better than this. He was saying “ya’ll” and getting the country-isms perfectly fine beforehand, although he was still doing it in his deadpan Brain way.

Now, suddenly, after hearing Pinky cutely screw up his fake name and going on stage he’s starting to mess up. It’s like Pinky’s error is still in the back of his mind and flustering him enough to throw him off for a bit.

He gets back into the swing of things when he starts singing his song, though.

“I am a lab mouse, I escaped from my cage

Never had a job, never earned minimum wage.~”

“He ain’t half bad.”

“Ain’t half good, either.”

OUCH. That’s a little harsh. Sure, the lyrics are kinda blah but he’s a decent singer here. Really, it’s just not a genre of music that his voice fits very well.

Also, lady? You’ve got a suspiciously busty doppleganger in the back there. That’s got to be a bad omen for you.

“But you will respect me, YES, once my plan is unfurled!~

You will call me your leader, I’ll be king of the world!~”

Careful, Brain. Your complicated emotional complex is starting to show in those lyrics.

There’s some more nice facial expressions here too. I can’t really capture it with still images, but Brain’s got a very tender demeanor when he sings about being king of the world.

“Now, Pinky!”

…I just noticed that Pinky’s wearing a completely different outfit here at the nightclub than he was when boarding the bus to get to Nashville. He was previously in an all-white colonel outfit and now he’s in a more generic yet very sweet cowboy get-up. Did you make yourself an entire wardrobe, Pinky?

Another minor detail is that while Pinky’s cowboy hat is a generic tan colour (although before, it was white), Brain’s hat is completely black, which as per western film traditions marks him as a clear villain.

You and I know he’s not really a villain and is, at worst, an anti-villain…but I thought this was worth pointing out anyway.

“Citizens of the world, you are under my control. You will do whatever I say.”

I love how he does this completely unneeded strum on his guitar in the middle of his subliminal message. It's for the drama!

“Buy my record and listen to it twenty times a day.”

Corporations be like…

Who am I kidding? Corporations nowadays would have you pay a fee monthly to have a song on your phone playlist and you would never really own a copy.

“Let’s buy his record…”

“And listen to it twenty times a day…”

Lady, that doppleganger is still over there. Do you need a distraction while you sneak out the back?

This smug lil’ jerk. Gotta love him, though.

And so Brain’s cassette tapes fly off the shelves at record speed.

Man. Cassette tapes. I feel so fuckin’ old…

“I don’t know ‘bout ya’ll, but I can’t get enough of Bubba Bo Bob Brain. Let’s hear it again!”

JFC, that spittoon. Blegh! And just what do you need that rope for?!?

“Well, he’s the hottest thing to hit Nashville since my mama’s jalapeno grits! Here’s Bubba Bo Bob Brain!”

Having just recently learned what exactly “grits” is, I am very disturbed by the idea of jalapeno grits.

“I’m your biggest fan! What d’you say to that?”

Hi, Dolly Parton! I’ve gotta say that the animators nailed the caricature of 90s Dolly here pretty well. She’s instantly recognizable, unlike some other celebrity parodies Animaniacs does. It’s not just because of Dolly’s, uh…most renowned physical characteristics, either. That’s a very Dolly Parton smiling face.

Not much to say here other than that Dolly’s a sweetheart of a woman, from what I know about her, especially for a celebrity. She’s a staunch supporter of Covid relief and Black Lives Matter as well.

That said, she’s sadly—both in the 90s and now—most well known for…

“I’d say puberty was inordinately kind to you.”

BRAIN!

Well, yeah. That.

I guess now you can see what I mean about Brain not being very good at talking to women. Like, he’s definitely not ogling her here. In fact he’s just kind of…stating something he’s noticed and looking absolutely done with this whole celebrity thing. But Brain you don’t just make a joke like that about a woman’s bust size no matter how deadpan you do it, you ass!

“Haha, go on.”

She takes it well, though, just like Dolly seems to in reality.

Still, though! Brain, you retroactively deserved all those run-ins with doorframes.

Continuing on the buxom southern women thing this episode has decided to run with (seriously, what’s going on here?), we now have a brief parody of a Hee Haw skit.

“Hahahahaha!”

“Hey, Bubba Bo Bob Brain, I just got back from France!”

“How’d you find it?”

“I used a map.~”

“Hahahahaha!”

Yeah, that’s an accurate depiction of Hee Haw style humour.

“And the Country Tune Award for best male vocal goes to…”

“Bubba Bo Bob Brain!”

Here we have Garth Brooks and Crystal Gayle emceeing this awards ceremony. I had to look up who these two were supposed to be, though, since the caricatures are pretty vague this time.

“EGAD! YIPPEE! Narf! Ah hahahahahaha!”

Aww, he’s so happy for Brain! And oh, is that yet another outfit I see? And a much more appropriately sunshine-y yellow and flamboyant one at that! Pinky really went all-out for this.

Again with the tongue hanging out too, except this time it’s more understandable.

“You’re embarrassing me, Pinky.”

And you’re continuing to be a jerk, wow. Someone needs a nap or something.

“Pardon my effervescence, but your accolade is more than any bucolic mouse merits.”

“What’s he sayin’?”

“I don’t know.”

Yes, Brain just used the word “effervescence”, much like in that one Tumblr Twilight meme. To those reeling from the fact that this compares Edward to Brain via their shared pretentiousness: You’re welcome.

Also, a Brain-to-common English translation: “Pardon my bubbly enthusiasm, but your award is more than any countryside mouse deserves.” Would that have been so hard to say, Brain?

“…I’d like to thank my mama and Elvis.”

I wouldn’t thank Elvis. He was an asshole. But that’s probably not wise to say at a 90s country music award show, so I guess it’s understandable.

“Oh, how nice!”

“Well isn’t that nice!”

“I’m outside the Grand Ol’ Opry, where tonight’s concert featuring country music sensation ‘Bubba Bo Bob Brain’ is being televised worldwide.”

“In two words: Bubba is hot!”

I… That’s twice in this episode where a human woman thinks a tiny, big-headed mouse on stilts is hot.

Furries, come get these poor, confused women.

“You gotta know how to cut ‘em

Know how to shuffle

Know how to deal the cards, before you play Fish with me.~”

Hello, Kenny Rogers. I only know the song parodied here, “The Gambler”, again through “My Brother, My Brother and Me” and the long and hilarious conversation about it.

It’s kind of weird to have a song that was made famous by Rogers in 1978 sung like it’s a recent hit in an early 90s awards show, but ehh. Maybe the shelf life of hit country songs is a lot longer than songs of other genres.

And then you die in your sleep~

“Do you realize what will happen if the world hears my song just one more time?”

“An angel will get its wings?!”

If only, Pinky.

“NO, Pinky!”

I think all this country stuff is really getting on Brain’s nerves. He’s being snappy and irritable and lashing out an abnormal amount ever since arriving in Nashville, and there’s not a lot of joy in the minor successes he’s had so far. Like, compare Brain smiling and praising Pinky for his work during the alien encounter spoof they did together, the last episode with Brain cheerfully singing to himself when he was certain he’d win the race…to now where he’s yelling at Pinky for minor mistakes that no one but himself is aware of and being joyless and faking pleasantries and rolling his eyes at the country stars he’s surrounded by. This mouse is crabby as all hell, and I don’t think it’s just because he finds the whole country western thing stupid and below him. This is a mouse who’s done and will continue to do degrading things to achieve his goal of world domination without this much jerkishness.

I think he’s still fuming about the whole Pharfignewton and Pinky thing, and the current plan being a very rural, country-focused plan like the last one with the Kentucky Derby is just exacerbating it by reminding him of it. Like, you don’t even have to take it in the gay way I am and instead take it in a “how dare that goddamn horse take the complete attention of my friend/world domination partner away from me and my plans, this sucks and I can’t believe Pinky’s just being his usual dumbass self like everything is fine and the same” sort of way.

But the gay way makes way more sense, fight me.

…Okay, don’t fight me, I’m tired and old and I really don’t want to get in internet fights about cartoon mice.

“My subliminal message will take permanent hold, and the world will be under my control!”

Ooof! We’re back down to “my” control and not “our”. Jeez, Brain. You really are spiraling right now, aren’t you? Your attitude has quickly devolved from the beginning of this episode...

“Oh, that.”

And dang, even Pinky’s enthusiasm is starting to get deflated.

“Now, do you remember what you have to do?”

“Yes. I need to make a dental appointment. I have horrible plaque buildup!”

Pinky, you do realize that unlike a regular, non-sapient mouse you can just brush your teeth, right?

“The tape, Pinky, the TAPE!”

“Oooh, right! When you give the signal, I play the tape.”

“And now, I’d like to introduce…”

“This is it, I’m on.”

“Good luck, Booba Bip Bop Brain!”

Folks, I swear to you that I tried to get a decent screencap of Pinky slapping Brain to figure out if he slapped his back or his ass and for the life of me I could not get it. The slap goes by just that fast and I’d honestly have to go frame by frame if I wanted to get it, but my video player will not go that slow.

Either way, Brain is certainly startled by the contact but is fixated more on the continued mangling of his fake name.

“How many times do I have to tell you, my name is--!”

Uhh, Brain? Getting a liiiittle close there.

“—Bubba Bo Bob Brain!” exclaims Kenny Rogers. And oh boy are these screencaps exploitable. Again, you’re welcome.

“Yee-haw! Let’s start this hootenanny!”

Better than last time you came out on stage to sing at a show, at least.

This time the crowd even sings along with him, and they’re not even hypnotized yet. Much better.

“Now, Pinky!”

“You are under my control, you will do whatever I say…”

“I will do whatever he says… Whatever he says… Whatever he says… Whatever he says…”

A confusingly consistent detail here: Every woman in the crowd has swirly red hypnotized eyes and every man in the crowd has swirly green hypnotized eyes. Why? Who knows!

“Way to go, Blubber Boo Bean Brain. Narf!”

Heh, that hand flip.

It looks like Pinky is trying hard to suppress his verbal tic here for some reason? Or maybe he’s just realized that he’s messed up the name again and is cringing in anticipation of Brain yelling at him? Either way, poor guy… You really don’t deserve any of what’s coming.

And what’s coming? Well, given Brain’s heightened pissy attitude and his mental issues with not having things go exactly the way he wants them to, plus his obsessive need this episode to correct Pinky on this one thing that doesn’t need to even be addressed because no one else hears it, plus other repressed emotions…

��Do me a favour and forget my name. While you’re at it, forget you ever knew me!”

Holy shit.

…Now you fucked up, Brain. Now you fucked up.

Man, I hate the one thick facial hair on the dude in the middle. It’s so unsettling.

“Hey, who’s that skinny guy on stage?”

“Who is he?”

“Get him off!”

“Boo!”

“We wanna see someone famous!”

Yup. Look at what you did. You messed this up all because you were having a temper tantrum about Pinky messing up your stupid false name. You hang that head in shame. And you apologize to Pinky.

Later...

“Tonight’s inside story: A complete unknown somehow made it on to the stage at the Grand Ol’ Opry.”

“…Turn that off, Pinky.”

You know what? Keep it on for a bit, Pinky. Let Brain wallow in this humiliation just a bit more. He needs to have the lesson set in.

“I’m trying to concentrate on a better plan for tomorrow night.”

“Why, Brain? What are we going to do tomorrow night?”

“Same thing we do every night, Pinky:”

“Try to take over the world!”

Hey wait just a minute! You can’t just reuse this excellent ending from “Win Big” on this episode! Brain doesn’t yet deserve to get back to being cocky and determined after being such an ass!

Ahh well. He does get better, folks, I promise. This is just a rough patch. Brain is… He’s going through some things, I think. He’s not processing his emotions in a healthy way and it’s really coming back to bite him.

Listen, I understand this whole thing with Brain being extra grumpy and hostile after the whole Pinky dating Pharfignewton thing is largely coincidence. We don’t actually know what order these episodes were made in, after all, and the Animaniacs writers were not big on continuity.

Here’s the thing, though: I still find it fascinating that these episodes were aired one after the other…especially with a random cameo with Pinky and Brain disguised as a married couple in between. It makes for the beginning of a strange sort of arc that occasionally reminds us that, hey, these two mice are a duo and something is amiss when that duo is broken up or there is a strain put on that relationship.

I’ve read that after a while, network executives at the time tried to push for these mice to settle down and have families and for the skits and the eventual spin-off to largely abandon the whole world domination thing. They wanted it to be more sitcom-like to rival and imitate shows like The Simpsons.

That obviously doesn’t work. It can’t work. The writers, especially Peter Hastings, very much pushed back against the idea. When you have a duo of characters who fit together and play off one another so well, when the basic premise of a story is of a pair of characters working together to achieve a goal, and when those characters just mesh so perfectly and basically complete one another…trying to add another main character just puts the entire story completely out of wack and/or changes it into something unrecognizable. You can add reoccurring characters off to the side, sure. You can have a nemesis or two pop up and return every now and again. But with something like Pinky and the Brain where the main story is a small pair against incredible odds working towards a singular goal, disrupting that core relationship is going to cause a domino effect that will ruin the whole thing.

All this to say that I like this approach that’s going on here much more, even if it was completely unintended by the creative team: There is the element added of Pinky, off-screen, dating someone. It’s not something that’s brought up a lot and whenever it is brought up, Brain is irritated. We’ve seen at the end of the last episode where this development was introduced that Brain is unusually snappy, and now in the next episode he continues to be angry more often than he was before. It’s a more subtle and smooth way of seeing how these characters react if something or someone threatens to come between them, in a way that doesn’t immediately break the entire premise to pieces. Of course, it helps that Pharfignewton is…largely absent for all this and is only brought up every now and again. It’s not a perfect way to explore this kind of thing, but it’s preferable when compared to something like Pinky, Elymra, and The Brain.

However, after this episode Brain’s temper begins to de-escalate, and we won’t pick back up on this accidental “arc” for a few episodes. So to folks who are maybe a little bit bummed out about his behaviour here: don’t worry. We’re getting quite the breather next time with a very odd alternate universe skit courtesy of the Warner Siblings messing around with character placement, as well as an entire Animaniacs episode devoted to a Pinky and the Brain skit…fantasy style!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Bubba Bo Bob Brain

17 notes · View notes

thefantasygirl3 · 4 years

Text

Negaverse stories: Bushroot's backstory

Genre/warnings: Comedy, Slice of life, Action, Drama.

Word count: 3 581

Summary: After the events of Darkwing Duck coming to the Negaverse and helping the now called “Darkwing Ducks” save st. Canard, the four heroes decided to adopt the adorable little Gosalyn, buy a house and start a life together. But the little duckling is curious over how all her dads became heroes to start with, so she asks them to tell her that story.

Notes: The third story out of four, featuring the friendly four. I almost forgot to upload it here, but here it is. Only one more to go. Link to other parts of the story: 1 - Megavolt. 2 - Quackerjack. 4 - Liquidator.

It was 9:00 am in st. Canard. Most kids were busy in school, learning their ABCs and 123s. Emphasis on "most". In the Darkwing ducks' household, the little duckling Gosalyn was laying in bed with an ice pack on her head. She had gotten sick that morning and her parents had made her stay home, which she thought stunk! What is she going to do when she's stuck in bed? While she's laying like a sack of sneezing potatoes in bed, all her friends are having fun at school, playing with their new dolls and talking about their pets. She wanted to hang out with all the other kids! But at least she wasn't completely alone, not only was Bushroot home, as he was a stay-at-home-dad, but Quackerjack also left Mr. Banana brain to keep her company while her papa was busy.

She let out a big, bored sigh and sank more into her bed, almost disappearing in the covers. But then she heard something from outside her window, making her push herself up with a groan and head over to take a peek. And outside she saw her papa, Bushroot, kneeled down by his garden and tending to the pretty little flowers, yet to bloom while he hummed happily. His fly trap was helping him by carrying the watering can for him. One of the buds started to make strange little noises before it burst out crying like a child. He gasped softly and bent down to give the baby bud soothing pats to calm it down. "Shhhh. Don't cry, my widdle baby! It's ok! Shhhh… it's ok. Go back to sleep. Papa's here" he whispered in a baby voice to the bud as it stopped crying.

Gosalyn puffed up her cheeks grumpily and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at her papa acting like that to one of his mutated flowers. Always doting on them like babies. He never treated her like that! Was she getting jealous of flowers? Yes! Yes she was!

She walked over to the door to head out into the garden, but was interrupted as she let out a big, loud sneeze. She snivled and rubbed her beak of snot while glancing back at the bed, where Banana brain was looking over at her while lying lazily on the bed. "Don't look at me like that. I'm just going outside" she told him with a stuffy nose before she sniffed a bit and continued towards the stairs.

As she was half way down the stairs, she spotted the plant man starting to hurry inside and soon thereafter spotted the sick little girl dragging herself down from her room. "Oh nonono!" he shouted surprised as he ran over towards her and stopped her at the end of the stairwell. "Chickpea! You shouldn't be walking around! You should be trying to sleep the sickness off!" the nervous duck man started to gently usher her up the stairs, until he noticed her grumpy face and came to a stop.

"Hun? What's the matter? You don't look happy" he muttered concerned and crouched down to be on her level. "... I was lonely" she mumbled and lowered her head, getting red cheeks from the feeling of embarrassment. The plant let out a big sigh and stood up so he could walk over towards the couch. Gosalyn, without a word, followed after him and crawled up beside him. "Dandelion, you need to rest. But if you're feeling lonely, I guess I can sit with you for a while. So… what did you want to do?" He asked while reaching an arm out to wrap around her and pull her in closer. "... can you… tell me about when you became a hero?" She muttered weakly and looked up at him with a pair of puppy eyes. "Ah… so it's my turn now? I… guess it was inevitable. Very well… I can't say no to you when you make those eyes" he let out a soft chuckle before giving his daughter a smile and giving her a gentle hug.

Before I became… this, I used to be the head scientist in a food lab. We would find the best, cheapest ways to make our food. But I was… let's just say rebellious and used the lab to make my own interesting food experiments. See I wasn't exactly cooperative, I would bully the scientists beneath me to get my way and I'd use all of the equipment to do my own things. I'd even manipulate and bully my boss so I had him in my grasp as well. There was only one person I couldn't push around in the workplace and that was ms. Rhoda Dendron.

Rhoda… she was… beautiful. She was smart and headstrong, an amazing addition to our little lab team. She'd treat me so coldly and would not give me the time of day at all. And I was crazy over her. She was so confident, I just couldn't help but fall head over heels in love with this feisty woman. But she absolutely despised me. She saw me as a jerk who disrespected everyone and didn't mind using others for my own self gain. And… she was kind of right. I'd be so nice and romantic to her, but she couldn't care less.

"What? Why would you like someone who doesn't like you?" Gosalyn asked confused as she nuzzled into her papa's side, glancing up at him slightly. Bushroot blushed up lightly and looked away from her, a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead. "Um… well… she was… you know! She was pretty! And confident!" He tried to excuse himself while getting progressively redder. "Eh. It's fine. Love is weird. Please keep going" she told him softly as she dismissed the question as fast as she had asked it.

Anyways. One day, I was working in the lab, ordering around the other two scientists to do my work for me while I was investigating the growth of my lovely little plants. They were rushing around with hamburgers or something, doing whatever it was we were trying to do at the time. I honestly can't remember. But then, suddenly, one of the guys ran into me and spilled ketchup all over my plant. I gasped in shock and turned to him, face covered in rage. "You MORONS!" I yelled "Can't you watch where you're going?! You might just have ruined my experiment!". The other man ran over and helped his friend up, looking at me while apologizing. "Why I OUGHTA-" as I was just threatening them, I heard the door open and I looked up to see Rhoda enter. I was immediately smitten and I reached out to pull up the scared scientist I had just raised my hand to, finishing my sentence with "Help you up, you poor man!".

She simply gave me the dirtiest look and turned her head away, walking straight past me without any acknowledgement. I just watched her walk past and ignore me, throwing my labmates to the floor in frustration. As soon as I did, the door opened again and my boss came in. He looked over at me with a big grin. "Ah! Mr. Bushroot sir! It's great to see how far you've gotten on today's assignment! I really am lucky to have you on the team!" He kept praising me, like always. I just huffed at him and went back to clean my plant off. "It's really those two you should be thanking! Reginald was probably playing with his flowers the whole time!" Rhoda scoffed as she took out her lab notes and pens, glaring back at me like I was the scum of the earth. My boss turned to her with a gasp and stormed over with an angry look. "Ms. Dendron! We don't make such harsh, unfounded statements towards our labmates! Plus, he wasn't the one who came late today, now was he?" He scolded her while she simply rolled her eyes and looked at him irritated. "And because of your tardiness, I will be forced to cut your pay!" He added on, finally earning a reaction out of her. "What?! How dare you?!" She barked in shock.

I shot up straight as I heard that, realizing I could do something that I thought would be sure to make her like me. "Um, actually! I asked her to get me some documents that I really needed! That's why she came in a little late. Those documents were very important" I told my boss calmly while I slid up beside him, giving Rhoda a smug grin and a raise of my eyebrows. She frowned grumpily at me. "Oh! Very well then! Sorry for the confusion! Carry on!" My boss told the two of us before he left the room. I turned to Rhoda to smile at her, but she just turned away from me and huffed angrily. "Thanks, but I don't need your pity! I'd rather be fired!" She growled at me before storming off to her papers again. I was left standing there, sour and annoyed. I just stared and muttered under my breath "I will impress you… you'll see. I'll be amazing the next time you see me".

That evening I went back to my green house where I conducted most of my experiments. I was determined to show Rhoda what she was missing out on, so I had decided to put my most ambitious project into play. I had been working on a way for people to survive on only water and sunlight, just like plants do. If I could somehow combine a plant's DNA with a person's physical form then I was sure I would be on the front of every magazine and newspaper. But most importantly, Rhoda would be so impressed that she'd fall in love with me instantly. At least that's what I thought at the time. So I set up the machine, connecting a simple house plant to one end and getting myself ready for the other end. But before I started, I had set up a camera to film my achievement and I had just pressed record and started talking to the camera. "Attempt number 14, time 6:42 pm. Date- wait. The recording lists the date. He he! Well I have finalized all the components of the photosynthesis converter and I believe now is the perfect time to try it out on a living subject. And that will be me! Thank me later for making you famous, future me! Oh! And if I die and you find this tape, Rhoda, I want to say that I love you and that you deserve my position in the lab. I formally give it to her if this is seen after my death. Alright! Let's begin!" I finished my statement and ran over to the lab table so I could lay down on it. I hooked myself up and started the process, watching myself and the plant get raised up from the ground.

Everything became blurry after that. I barely remember anything until a while after I had woken up. I must have stumbled around in a daze for a while until I regained my composure. When I did, I was laying on a big leaf, as if it had caught my fall. My head was spinning and pounding, making my vision all white. When everything in my lab started fading into view, I finally sat up and rubbed my head, groaning and whining. Then I heard the sound of a gasp, catching my attention. I looked up and saw none other than my love herself, Rhoda, staring at me in absolute horror before letting out a blood curdling scream. I screamed too and shot up from the leaf. "Ms. Dendron! Wh-what are you doing-?!" Before I could finish, she grabbed a nearby broom and started hitting me with it. I yelped in pain at her hits and started to back away from her, backing up into a window where I saw a frightening sight.

I was a plant. I had turned myself into a duck-plant-mutant, green with a head full of petals. I was shocked, until I got another whack by the broom. I turned around to her and pleaded "W-wait! Rhoda! I-i-it's me! Reginald Bushroot!". She stopped hitting me and stared surprised. "Mr. Bushroot?!?" She asked in disbelief as I let out a sigh of relief. She then smacked me again, even though she just realized it was me. "H-hey! Stop! Stop hitting me! I'm not a monster! H-h-help! HELP ME!!!" I yelled and begged as she kept hitting me, until she stopped all of a sudden and screamed in fear. I looked up and saw one of my plants had grabbed a hold of her arm and was pulling her away from me, as if it was trying to save me. Instinctively, I ran over and grabbed her other arm, yelling "No! Let go of her! Don't hurt her!". And it did exactly that, releasing her and pulling back. We were both left in stunned silence, until Rhoda broke it with "you… can talk to plants now?!". "No… no! I never meant for this to happen! I was supposed to photosynthesize! I was going to eat like a plant, not be one! I'm going to be INFAMOUS Now! I'll be some sort of freak of nature, literally! It's awful! It's horrible! It's-!" I kept rambling and pacing back and forth, starting to panic over what an awful failure this experiment was.

"Amazing! You're a super duck! You can make plants do what you want! That's so impressive!" She suddenly interrupted me, making me stiffen up in surprise. "It… is?" I muttered, clearly having this flattered grin on my face, judging by the sudden thoughtful grin that she got. "Oh… of course it is! Reggie! This is so cool! If I knew you could do something like this… why I'm just sorry for how I've acted!" Rhoda said in this sugar sweet voice, tilting towards me and giving me these big pretty eyes. I just blushed up and felt my body start to shake, like there was an assault of butterflies in my stomach. "R-re-r-reggie…?" I could only utter before I collapsed backwards, getting caught by the branches of a tree behind me before I hit the ground. "Oh you're so silly, Reggie. It's kinda cute" she commented with a small giggle.

Me and Rhoda had moved toward the front door of the greenhouse while I explained to her what happened. She interrupted me somewhere near the end by putting a finger to my beak. "No need to explain more. Why don't we go outside and try those powers out, huh?" She suggested as we headed out through the door and stood outside. I felt a little nervous as I removed her hand and smiled nervously. "Um… I'm not sure I should do that. What if someone sees me? I'll be taken away!" I told her, looking around nervously to make sure no one was around. Rhoda leaned over and grabbed my arm, whispering softly "do it for me". I just gulped and walked past her, looking around for something to do to impress her. I saw a few pretty flowers bit away and thought they would do nicely. '"Alright! How about you show me some fun tricks, cuties?" I asked kindly, watching as the flowers grew up taller and twisted around each other delicately. I watched with this big smile on my face, until they suddenly reached out to grab the nearby bench and threw it into a lamp post. "Oh no! Don't do that!" I gasped and tried to pull the flowers back while the lamp post collapsed at the middle and came crashing down beside me. Those tiny flowers sure were strong! Rhoda just watched me, mumbling something, sounding very impressed by what just happened.

"I'm sorry Rhoda! I didn't Think they would get so violent. Maybe I am just a monster now! I make plants come to life and attack people!" I started panicking as me and her were heading back inside. "Oh you're being silly, Reggie! Maybe… they just misunderstood you! Or wanted… to impress you? Who cares anyways? What you did was really amazing! Imagine what you could do with these powers. You could rule the whole city. With your… girlfriend by your side?" she told me as she hung onto my shoulders and gave me this sensual look. I just stared at her, not able to enjoy the moment after her mentioning the ruling the city thing. I just removed her arms and backed up a bit. "Ha ha! Funny joke!" I just said while still backing away. "No! I'm serious! You and I could finally make a mark on history! Who cares about science anymore!? We could be more than scientists! Reggie!" She insisted as she started to approach me more, this devilish smile on her face. "Uuuh! R-rhoda! I think you're misunderstanding me! I'm not an evil scientist! I just want to experiment with plants!" I insisted as I backed up faster, a big leaf coming down to help hide me since I was clearly scared.

"Ugh! What's wrong with you, Bushroot?! Why are you such a coward?! You weren't acting like this in the lab! Guess I finally see who you really are, a loser! You have this fantastic opportunity and you're not taking it!" Rhoda suddenly started yelling at me as she swatted the leaf out of the way and stomped closer, causing me to fall backwards and crawl back towards my lab area. I grabbed the machine that mutated me and used it to pull myself up off the floor, looking at the angry woman horrified. Her attention was pulled towards the machine and her scowl turned to a light frown. "Well if you're not using these powers, then I will" she growled and ran to connect herself to the machine. But I grabbed her with my vine arms and threw her back away from it. "No! I'm not letting this happen to anyone else! I'M NOT CREATING ANOTHER MONSTER! THIS MACHINE WILL NEVER BE ACTIVATED AGAIN! EVER!!!" I started screaming as I turned around to face the machine. "PLANTS! DESTROY IT!!!" I demanded with a stomp, watching as the biggest plant in the room reached down to grab a hold of the whole appliance, ripping it off of it's wires. "NO!!!" Rhoda screamed and grabbed the emergency axe, swinging it at the tall flora and making it drop the apparatus back down. It broke open in a huge explosion, knocking me out cold.

I don't remember much after that. I was out for quite some time. I just remember my consciousness fading in and out as I was trapped under the debris. At one point, I could hear faint talking, yelling, as if there were people trying to put out the fire I assume was going on around me. Then my sight faded back in when I was free from the collapsed greenhouse. I was watching it grow further and further away as I was seemingly being carried away by someone wearing rather colorful clothes. When I finally woke up completely, I was staring at an unfamiliar roof, laying on a mattress, bandaged up and treated. I sat up and saw these two people in weird outfits sitting nearby, sighing in relief as they saw me awake. "Hey! You're ok!" The duck in the jester outfit cheered and smiled brightly at me. I completely ignored him and said the first thing on my mind. "My lab… what happened to…?" Before I could finish, the look on the rat's face told me everything I needed to know. It was all gone. My life work was gone. My eyes filled with tears and I just cried quietly. "H-hey! Not everything burned! This little guy made it!" The rat then said as he ushered over this adorable venus fly trap to me, which licked my face and nuzzled me gently. I just cried and hugged onto him tightly, letting the tears just flow as I began to sob uncontrollably. The rat and duck moved closer to me and tried to comfort me the best they could. I was crying like a baby for quite some time.

"After that… the guys took care of me until I was back on my feet. When I was, I told them my story and they offered to let me join them and help them fight crime. So that's what I did. And now I'm here" Bushroot finished his story and smiled down at his kid, who was half asleep in his lap, cuddling up to him. "So she didn't really like you… that's awful" She commented and let out a yawn. "It was… the biggest heartbreak of my life. I was never able to feel attracted to another woman after that. But I did find love… in my wonderful family!" He sighed as he hugged onto her gently and patted her head. Gosalyn smiled brightly and closed her eyes, muttering "I love you, papa". "I love you too" Bushroot responded with a huge grin, picking her up to head off to bed. Spike the fly trap took a peek out of curiosity, making the duck hush him softly. "Shhh. Let the angel sleep" he whispered before carrying her off to her room, Spike close behind.

#darkwing duck #DWD #negaverse #nega gosalyn #Gosalyn Mallard #nega bushroot #bushroot #the fearsome four #the friendly four #friendly four

41 notes · View notes

raendown · 4 years

Link

First entry for @madatobiweek this year! Today’s story is for the prompts magic au and de-aged.

Companion art for this story found here!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 10,519 Rated: T+ Summary: All the magic he could possibly want at his fingertips and yet he can't stop one big brother from meddling. Forced in to revealing both his heart and his deepest secret, in the end Tobirama is happy - and happily plotting revenge.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Small Problems

“What do you mean you don’t know how this happened?”

“I’m not sure how else to say that so you can understand it.” Tobirama was aware of the dryness in his tone, aware that was one thing that never failed to rile this man up, but in a situation like this he simply could not be bothered to modulate himself.

Not when the brother who should have been two years older than him sat across the room with rounded baby cheeks, chubby little toddler legs, and a face he hadn’t seen since he himself was about five years old. What on earth his brother had been doing to land himself in such a predicament was uncertain but the two remaining adults both understood one thing without having to voice it.

They needed to right this wrong before Mito returned from visiting the Uzushio Temples or there would be hell to pay.

“Haven’t you memorized basically every damn book in the entire library here?” Madara demanded. “Take a look around! You could say which ones here have spells in them that could do this!”

“I have read many of them, not all. I would need another hundred years at the very least to merely skim the entire collection.” Not that he hadn’t been giving his best shot at doing so. Almost every spare moment not spent bored in council meetings or crafting charms for gullible tourists to buy was spent with his nose in whatever books he could get his hands on. If not for Hashirama occasionally dragging him out of his study he might not eat some days.

“Ugh. What even is the use of you?” His companion crossed both arms and turned his head away, dark hair swaying forward until it almost concealed the way his eyes traced back over to watch Hashirama very intently pluck at a loose thread on the cushion underneath him.

To be fair he did make for an adorable sight. Despite reverting to an age when he had once sported an abominable bowl cut his brown locks remained as long and smooth as ever, long enough to give the effect of a permanent cape draped over tiny shoulders. His fingers were clumsy, tongue sticking out one corner of his mouth in concentration, and the look in his eyes was about as vapidly thoughtless as any seven year old had ever been. Whatever nonsense he’d been fiddling with had well and truly brought him back to childhood.

“Anija?” Tobirama kept his voice soft since he’d already discovered that speaking sharply led to even easier tears than normal. “You said you can’t remember what you were, ah, playing with. Do you remember anything at all?”

“I remember Tobi! Up! Up!” It was disgustingly hard to resist the cuteness of a tiny Hashirama holding out both arms with a beaming smile.

Madara stared at him when he inevitably capitulated, snagging the miniaturized man under both arms and hauling him up to rest on one hip. “I never took you for a softy, Senju. You like kids or something?”

The tone was clearly meant to be a mocking one but the sneering laughter cut off at a calm nod from the one he was trying to poke fun at. Even as a child himself Tobirama had adored taking care of other younglings. Children were uncomplicated, innocent, and they never judged unless they were taught to do so by an adult. None of their endless questions had ill intentions. Sometimes he very seriously considered taking his brother’s frequent suggestions to get out of the house and take up a second job as a teacher of some sort but the thought of not having an out for the times when he just couldn’t concentrate around his latest obsession always brought him back down to reality.

When Hashirama began to babble he listened at first, hoping his question was actually being answered, but it only took half a sentence for him to recognize the usual nonsense and tune it out. He looked to Madara instead with a contemplative expression.

“How do you feel about children yourself?” he asked, unsurprised when the man narrowed both eyes suspiciously.

“Don’t hate ‘em, I guess, why?”

“If you want me to figure out what part of this mess caused my older brother to become my younger brother then I’ll need some time to dig through it all. Can you watch him? I won’t get anything done if I have to constantly pull balls of paper out of his mouth and drag him away from things that could hurt him in this state.”

Watching those dark eyes widen and fill with horror was one of the simpler pleasures in life. “Me? Watch tiny kid Hashirama? Have you lost your entire mind!?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his best friend?” Tobirama snorted. “One would think you knew him well enough to keep him entertained for a day or two. Or is childcare too much of a challenge for one such as yourself?”

That had exactly the effect he suspected it would. Madara spluttered and grumbled about how he was perfectly capable of watching one child for a few hours, how hard could it be, and other such nonsense. Amusing as that was, Tobirama did his best not to laugh. He truly wouldn’t get anything done with Hashirama underfoot and being obvious about his amusement would only send the very sexy bane of his existence storming away with no offers of help.

Honestly if the man weren’t so attractive both in mind and body Tobirama would have drowned him in a water sphere years ago. As long as he drew all the moisture out of the room afterwards it would be the perfect murder. No way to trace it back to him. But of course he had never lowered himself to fantasize about shutting that infuriating mouth up before - murderously, amorously, or otherwise. Wanting anything from someone he argued with so frequently would be a futile exercise and Tobirama was nothing if not a practical man. His time was better spent buried in books as he had been for the past two centuries.

If he learned enough about the world sometimes he wondered if it would make it all feel less lonely.

“Does he even know who I am?” Madara’s capitulation was as easy as that, although he made a point of not verbally agreeing, which was just like him. It was a good point, though. Tobirama hefted the child on his hip and cleared his throat.

“Anija? Do you remember who this is?” he asked.

“Maddy!”

“Yes. That’s exactly who this is.” Tobirama’s lips spread in a shameless smile. “Maddy.”

The sounds of spluttering from across the room were music to his ears, doubly so when the teasing hadn’t even really come from him so he couldn’t be blamed for it. Just for that he resolved to be a little less angry when everything was back to how it should be. Only a little though.

“You’re going to go play with Madara for a while, alright? Be good for him. And use your manners.”

“We’re not going to play,” Madara groused. He seemed to regret it immediately when Hashirama began tearing up. Nothing out of the ordinary, really, but the tears had extra impact when spilling out over chubby cheeks, big brown eyes even wider than normal when set in such a tiny face.

“B-but I wanna!” he cried, chin wobbling dangerously.

Madara backtracked wildly even as Tobirama stepped across the room to hand over the man-child. “No no! Of course we can play! I have lots of board games at home and a pack of tarot cards you can read and I think I still have some kid-friendly runes in one of the cupboards. Kagami likes to play with those. That’s good, right? Please stop crying.”

The way he took Hashirama’s small body in both hands like a sack of potatoes spoke to a certain inexperience with kids and yet once Hashirama finally quit producing tears and giggled at his best friend’s high pitched tone Madara looked much more comfortable, enough that when he set Hashirama on one hip the motion was as smooth and thoughtless as any full time parent. It did ridiculous things to Tobirama’s insides. Attractive, intelligent, and apparently decent with children. If it weren’t for the fact that he just couldn’t see it happening he might have been tempted to pursue something that would definitely end up terrifying everyone around them.

Unfortunately he had many times gotten the impression that Madara did not find displays of intelligence as arousing as he did - usually seemed more annoyed by it than anything else - so the thought was set aside just as it had been every other time it showed up again. While the other two whispered together about how they would fill their time for the rest of the day Tobirama looked around the room and tried to decide where he would start first. He’d initially found his brother buried under the small mountain of scrolls and tomes in the eastern corner of the room but it was all too possible that he’d simply knocked some things over in his struggle to understand this new body. Still, it was the only lead he had and it wasn’t any better or worse than starting somewhere else.

“Right.” Cracking both wrists in preparation, he turned to lift one eyebrow at the co-conspirators giggling away by the door. “I should get started if we want him back to normal before the next meeting of the Magic High Council.”

“We’ll get out of your way,” Madara took the hint, thankfully.

“Don’t forget to feed him. No sugar though, he was a demon whenever he ate sugar at that age.”

“Got it.”

Hashirama whined but Madara was already turning to leave with a little extra bounce in his step to distract the tiny body on his hip.

Although he did his best not to be obvious about it Tobirama watched them until the door closed behind his favorite pair of mischief makers. Only after their voices began to fade down the hallway did he turn and cast a weather eye over the messy study. How his brother got anything done in here was beyond him. Every inch of him itched to clean up, mourning briefly that he hadn’t been born with an affinity for air magic. With air he could have simply waved his hand and called the spirits to help him tidy the room without so much as moving from this spot, could have spent his hours in the library calling books to him without getting up, but alas he had been born with a connection to water instead.

The pile where he started took more than an hour to sift through and at the end he found nothing but the tear stains left by a confused young-again toddler. It probably wouldn’t have taken him half that long just to look at all the book titles and determine whether they were a likely culprit but his instincts demanded that he organize as he went, sorting the books in to categories by subject and gathering the papers that seemed to go together in separate piles as well. Several of the scrolls were unmarked and those he set aside for later. Messing with unknown, possibly magical artefacts was a mistake he’d made several times before. Now was not the time for a repeat. If the rest of the chaos around him yielded nothing he would look in to the unmarked items with due caution and only after advising someone else to come check that he wasn’t dead afterwards.

From there Tobirama began to move around the perimeter of the room, going through each new spot of chaos with a fine toothed comb, leaving order in his wake when he moved on. It saddened him to know that all this effort would probably be ruined in less than a week after his brother was free in here once more.

Beneath one pile of debris he discovered a couch and under a different one he found a table. In one pile after several hours of labor he found some books that he had loaned to his sibling and never gotten back, told they were mysteriously lost somewhere. From now on anything he loaned this idiot would be tethered to a tracking rune and carefully monitored; then the first time Hashirama tried to say something was lost he was going to go dig it up out of this trash heap of a room and commit violence with it.

Maybe he would even let Madara watch. The man did always seem like he could use a good laugh.

Over half the room had been torn apart and rebuilt in to piles of satisfying organization before Tobirama finally unearthed a clue as to what his brother had been messing with. Bundled under a few tomes about interdimensional flora trades he found one that he himself hadn’t read yet, though he remembered mentally noting it for a future subject of interest. Age manipulation was one of the few subsections of time magic he had yet to turn his attention to. His last experiments in those areas had led to tears from several of their neighbors and angered Kawarama so badly his youngest sibling had refused to speak to him for a whole year. Not truly such a large portion of their extended life spans but he’d felt the loss all the same and no matter what others thought he was capable of learning from his mistakes. Even if the mistake he interpreted was not being sneaky enough with his research.

There were probably at least a dozen other ways that Hashirama might have landed himself in the state that he did but finding materials specifically to do with age regression magic in his possession was fairly damning evidence for that possibility. Just in case, Tobirama took a moment to pause and look around the rest of the room. One corner that he hadn’t yet gotten to was an area he very rarely saw his brother digging in to and had thus left it to be dealt with last. Now he looked a little closer and noticed that several piles of nonsense had all been very carefully arranged to give the appearance of being the same old stacks of garbage while concealing a cleared area in the very center, a suspicious little set up if he’d ever seen one. Tobirama set down the thick Treatise on Age Manipulation: Techniques of the Elemental Nations and padded his way across the carpet on silent feet as though if he made too much noise he might startle away whatever lay in the hidey hole before him.

As soon as he poked his head around one tall stack of paper he was frowning deeply, more suspicious than ever. In the very center of the mess, hidden from sight at any other angle but the one he was looking from, a small area had been cleared out to set up an obvious workspace. He remembered when they were little and Hashirama had been so fond of building himself little forts or secret hideaways where he could practice with the natural magics in his blood, making games out of pretending to be some Master Enchanter conducting secret experiments.

Fun as it was to think back to such innocent times from two centuries before, not even the nostalgia of childhood was going to save Hashirama from his wrath if it turned out the idiot had done all this on purpose. With a deep scowl scoring lines in his forehead to match the tattoos on his cheeks, Tobirama slid carefully in to the cleared out space and hunkered down, pulling several open notebooks towards himself to read through his brother’s familiar handwriting.

His fears were proven disgustingly true in but a few pages. Judging by the typically scatter-brained notes, it seemed that not only was this not an accident but that Hashirama had actively sought out this brand of magic for the specific purpose of regressing himself to a toddler. Why he wanted to be seven years old again was not mentioned in the initial notes and so Tobirama read on with a headache already forming from clenching his jaw too tightly.

Two more notebooks of terribly organized outlines and vague descriptions of eighteen different experiments granted Tobirama no more clarity on the situation, although he did pick up enough crumbs of information to piece together a decent knowledge of the subject matter. His temper was barely contained by the time he worked his way down to the final notebook. Fascinating as he had always found it comparing the theories of one spell to another, he needed to figure out which one had actually been used that morning in order to properly reverse it. Truly a regrettable restriction.

Well, regrettable from Hashirama’s point of view, probably. He was the one who would suffer the wrath of an angry water mage until Tobirama had worked out the frustration of this moment.

The last notebook left unread sat open to a random page that Tobirama smacked his hand down on in a temper. Dragging it towards him across the worksurface made the distinct sound of crumpling paper as he did so. Instantly mired with an instinctual scholar’s guilt, he very carefully lifted the book to peer underneath and assess whatever damage he’d just done.

A lone sheet of parchment fluttered back in to place where he easily identified it as a letter. The frown that already might as well be permanently etched in to his face deepend at the sight of his own name at the top. Why in the many interdimensional worlds would his brother need to write to him? They lived right next door to each other! Setting the notebooks aside, he used both hands to smooth out the rest of the letter and held the edges down so he could skim the contents. The moment he reached the bottom his eyes snapped back to the top for a more careful read through since clearly he must have hallucinated what he thought he’d just read.

Nothing changed. Tobirama’s hands were shaking with rage as he read through his brother’s words for a third time like they might somehow change in to something less stupid.

Dear Tobi

If you’re finding this then my plans are in motion! You will be very proud of me, I’m sure, for how carefully I conducted my experiments and research. Just like you!

Watching you and Madara dance around each other the way you have been for half a century is starting to get ridiculous. I really hate seeing both of you so lonely but you both refuse to do anything about it so I decided to do that myself. You’ll thank me, I promise!

The spell I’ll be using will bring my body and mind back to when I was a child - but I guess you’ll already know that when you find this. Don’t worry for me, I still have all my memories. But there is only one way to break the spell and bring me back to normal. All you have to do is say a few simple words. Easy, right? I hope so because the words I chose for my release incantation are words you should have said a long time ago.

You have to ask Madara on a date! Isn’t that fun? I told you that you would thank me later! You can’t just say any old words, though, you have to say it exactly like this: “Madara, it would make me very happy if you would take me on a date tomorrow.” You deserve to be pampered. He should be the one taking you out and treating you nice!

I can’t wait to see how happy you’ll be when I’m back to normal!

Love, Hashirama (the best big brother in the world)

The sound of crumpling parchment filled the air around him, fingers clenching in to the letter with white-knuckled rage. Happy was not even close to any of the feelings chasing red hot through his blood. After he managed to get this idiot back to his usual height Tobirma was going to punch the man right back down to the ground. Stagnant thought it may be, his love life was his own damn business.

His first instinct, of course, was to tear his way through the final notebook in search of which exact spell his brother had ended up using. Almost every curse and rune and incantation that had ever been crafted could be broken or cancelled out by something if a man was desperate enough to do something stupid - and Tobirama was fairly desperate not to get backed in to such a ridiculous corner. Of all the hills he’d been prepared to die on over the years this probably ranked among the pettiest and yet that knowledge did nothing to stop him from slapping the notebook back down in a rush of fury when he discovered what he had most feared.

For a very stupid man Hashirama did have his moments of evil genius. All the notes appeared to be there just as they had been for the rest but here the letters were blurred with some sort of privacy seal, visible only to Hashirama’s eyes. The only thing keeping Tobirama from whipping the entire thing across the room was knowing he would feel compelled to go clean up whatever mess his little hissy fit might cause.

Dragging both hands down his face, he leaned back in what small space was available and tilted his head back to look up blankly at the ceiling, wracking his brain for a way to get around this. He knew dozens of counter-enchantments that could be attuned to different spells but of course Hashirama had known those would be his answer. Without knowing how to attune them he could end up hurting the idiot before he had a chance to murder him properly and that was far from what he wanted. Revenge would be sweet - but deliberate.

It couldn’t hurt anything to go home and do a little research of his own to see if there was some solution that might not be occurring to him in the panic. He had salvaged dozens of seemingly hopeless experiments over the years long after something appeared to be impossible, he wouldn’t know until he tried. With any luck he might stumble upon some hidden nugget of information to save the day and prevent him from making such an utter fool of himself in front of Madara by asking questions he was fairly sure he already knew the answer to. No need to expose himself like that. He’d been lucky in his experiments before, there was no reason to think he might not be lucky again.

Except for perhaps the fact that fate was often a bitch like that, abandoning him when he needed her most.

There was nothing really to pack up since none of the materials around him would be very useful so it only took a moment to squeeze his way back out of the little fort before he could head for the exit. Concentrated as he had been on the task of figuring out what the fuck was going on, his brain had rather easily filtered out the muted sounds drifting over from the other end of Hashirama’s ridiculously oversized home. Thanks to some rather clever seal work designed by Mito the inside of the house was nearly three times as large as the outside, new rooms and wings added on whenever Hashirama took a fancy to some new hobby or another. Until he was intercepted halfway to the front door Tobirama hadn’t realized one of the newest additions was a nursery.

“Play!” Hashirama’s tiny voice demanded with childish imperialism. “Tobi play!”

“Get back here you miniaturized tree! How the hell do you move so fast- oh.” Madara froze in the doorway, arms outstretched where he had clearly been attempting to capture his runaway charge.

“Having fun, are we?” Tobirama murmured. He tilted his head down to see two wide brow eyes staring back at him as though he’d hung the very stars in the sky. It’d been years since any of his brothers looked at him like that. Some small corner of his heart melted instantly, fingers twitching with the need to pull this tiny figure up on to his hip for a good cuddle.

Madara straightened up and cleared his throat. “You don’t need to check up on us, you know.”

“Up!”

“Not now, Anija.” Absently patting the man-child’s hair, Tobirama lifted one eyebrow. “I was on my way to look a bit deeper in to our options for this rather unorthodox situation. My own laboratory is much better equipped for such research so if the two of you would excuse me. Anija, please let go now.”

Hashirama’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously. “No. Tobi has to play!”

Difficult to tell at the best of times, it was even harder to figure out if his emotions were real or put upon with such an earnest and tiny face. He hadn’t lost his memories, after all, only his emotional and mental maturity. Which wasn’t all that great to begin with but Tobirama had been given enough lectures on the subject not to mention that anymore - at least not where sensitive ears might carry his words to a vengeful Mito.

“I can’t stay and play, Anija, I need to work on getting you back to normal.” And planning his revenge, of course, though he refused to give any hints of that. Surprises were supposed to be fun, or so he’d been told.

“But Toooobiiiiii!” Hashirama’s pudgy fingers curled around his leg in a stubborn embrace. “I already said how! I wroted you a letter! Play!”

“The correct word is ‘wrote’,” Tobirama corrected him out of sheer habit. He may not have accepted any of the teaching positions offered to him over the years but there would always be an educator buried somewhere in his heart.

Nodding furiously, the limpet clinging to him faithfully repeated his correction. “Wrote! Now come give me piggyback rides? Madara’s really good at them but his hair is all slippy and I keep sliding off!”

Listening to the strange mesh of adult language and the childish need to bastardize grammar was bound to give him a headache in less than five minutes. Hashirama’s pronunciation was perfect, it was clear he was aware of every mistake in his sentences, so Tobirama was left to conclude that it was all very deliberate. The undersized nuisance was acting as childish as he could to play it up. He had to be. Nothing else could explain how he remembered writing that letter but ‘didn’t remember’ how to properly communicate as such.

Even worse, it was working. Tobirama could feel his resolve weakening with every tug as Hashirama pulled insistently at his fingers. In his current state he had next to no strength and barely a fraction of his usual body weight, there was really no reason he should be able to pull a fully grown man around, and yet Tobirama found himself shuffling forward in half steps anyway. As an instinctual defense against his own stupidly soft heart he made sure to roll his eyes heavenward in an expression of great suffering. From the quiet snort that Madara let out he could guess that his efforts were wasted. So much for all-consuming rage.

As he allowed himself to get pulled in to what looked like the aftermath of a tornado Tobirama quickly revised his plans. He would allow himself to be distracted for ten minutes or so, just enough time to appease Hashirama, then he would head home as planned and see if there was anything helpful to be gleaned from his personal library.

“Maddy helpeded me build a tower!” Hashirama scurried over to show him the wobbly structure made out of wooden rune blocks, imitations of the stones and charms Tobirama himself often peddled for money. Not exactly work to be proud of but it was fairly easy income and quick fingers meant he could produce them fast enough to give himself lots of time for the research he was truly interested in. Pride was all well and good until it got in the way of his experiments.

“It’s a very...tower.” Try as he might Tobirama couldn’t bring himself to compliment that architectural monstrosity.

“He worked very hard on that,” Madara pointed out.

Tobirama turned to level him with a flat stare. “I have my own hard work to be doing right now.”

“Awww but you haven’t even given me a piggyback ride yet!” Abandoning his tower, Hashirama toddled over to strike an admittedly very cute pose. “Stop trying to run away, little brother!”

“Which one of us is little right now?” he snapped back.

Madara didn’t even bother to stifle the bark of laughter that jerked his entire frame, although he did turn his face away to let out a long bout of snickering. Being mocked by him was nothing new, that was pretty much the basis for most of their interactions, but it still wasn’t pleasant to realize he was acting so childishly in front of the man he had such unfortunate feelings for. Tobirama just barely stopped himself from crossing his arms; that would have really driven the nails down in his coffin.

Instead he appeased himself with a pointed glare down at the little body dancing from side to side near his feet. He’d sort of forgotten just how fidgety his brother had been at this age. Of course, the years hadn’t really dulled the habit all that much, just enough that he was able to pass for a semi-respectable adult for short spurts at a time.

“One ride,” Tobirama offered stiffly. “I will take you once around the room and then you will let me leave. Do we have a deal?”

“No! You have to play with both of us!”

“What on earth led you to believe you have any sort of bargaining power here?”

Daring to produce a sunny smile, Hashirama giggled in his face, clearly unaware of the massive hole he was digging for himself by the minute. Vengeance would be sweet once he was returned to a mental state that would understand the sort of tortures Tobirama had in mind.

“If you don’t play with me I’ll tell Maddy what I wrote in the letter!”

Tobirama had never snatched a child off the ground so fast in all his life. Doing his best to ignore the curious and increasingly irritated questions from Madara, he settled his brother across both shoulders and began trotting about the room. When Hashirama demanded it he even gave a very flat neigh. If they had been alone, if this were any other child on his back, he would have had so much more enthusiasm for play. Normally he loved kids. With Madara doubled over in the corner and both hands wrapped around his stomach to contain the mirth it was a little harder than usual to lose himself in the joy of youthful innocence.

Once around the room was deemed far from enough when he tried to stop. All it took was one glance over at Madara for him to set off again with barely a grumble. Mortifying as this was, making the other man laugh was preferable to letting him catch his breath enough for curiosity to set in again. He must have heard something about the letter. Or maybe he hadn’t and the spirits had for once decided to have mercy and allow Tobirama to escape this room without embarrassing himself with the one thing he would never recover from - his feelings.

For perhaps a whole five minutes he was allowed to have hope. Hashirama directed him like a little general on several laps around the nursery before dragging him over to the blocks and demanding he help make an ‘even betterer’ tower. With his guidance the results were at least structurally sound, if not entirely practical. He wasn’t so sure how necessary it was to have so many rooftops. After playing with the rune blocks Hashirama cheerfully announced that he wanted to play dress up and that, unsurprisingly, was where Tobirama drew the line. There were many things he would do to save himself from the fate his brother had chosen to be his doom but putting on a fashion show for a toddler and a man with the power to burn memories in to his own mind was not one of those things. Just the thought of whatever monstrosities might be hiding in this home, waiting for his tortured form to be stuffed in to them, was enough to turn his stomach. His brother was not known for any sort of fashion sense.

“Alright, that is enough,” he declared, standing up to brush imaginary lint from his pants. “You asked that I play with you and I have. Now I will be going-”

“But you didn’t play with Maddy at all!” Hashirama’s tiny legs fluttered him across the room to hang off his best friend’s sleeve.

“I don’t think he’s all that heart broken about it,” Tobirama pointed out flatly.

To his horror, Madara chose that moment to feel a little mischievous. “How would you know? Maybe I’m just torn apart inside with despair that you could possibly think to leave me out of the fun. Come now, Senju, stay and play with me too!”

“Oh! We could have a sleepover!” Clapping both hands to either side of his face, Hashirama’s eyes practically glittered at the very thought.

He wilted sadly when Tobirama shot him down with a short, “No.”

“Whyyyyy!?”

“Because I have work to do.”

“No you don’t!” Hashirama stuck his tongue out. “You just want to go and read a bunch of books a-’cause you’re trying not to ask Maddy-”

“FINE!”

Both of them stared at him with wide eyes for such an unexpected outburst. Madara’s eyes quickly narrowed again in thought, a dangerous expression. The man may have been famous for his manipulation of fire magics but only because there were so few people who had witnessed just what those dangerous eyes could do and lived to tell the tale. And as much as Tobirama knew that should have sobered him with fear he could only mentally sigh at the warm burst of intrigue that bloomed in his chest.

Clearing his throat, he did his best to smooth away the panic from his expression and coached his voice to more normal, less panicked tones.

“If you absolutely must then you may have your...sleepover.” The word came out through gritted teeth.

“Why do I keep picking up hints that there’s something you don’t want me to know?” Madara asked.

“Because there is something I don’t want you to know.”

The offended squawk was amusing, at least. Madara always had this way of bristling like an angry hedgehog whenever they traded their usual insults and that, Tobirama realized now, was probably the origin of his downfall. He couldn’t help it if his poor taste thought it was cute to see an already wild man made even wilder as his hair spiked up and his cheeks puffed out with indignation.

Before his thoughts could run too far away and bring any sort of damning color to his face Tobirama followed tiredly along with his little-older brother’s instructions to set up the room for a good old camp out. In a magically expanded mansion like this one there were a dozen or so futons to choose from. Hashirama picked out the ones he declared the cushiest and conducted his two temporary slaves to drag them through the halls, hemming and hawing with all his seven-year old eye for decorating, demanding they rearrange things four times before it was perfect. If he were honest it looked completely the same to Tobirama in each iteration but he knew better than to say so. He wasn’t looking for a three hour lecture on home decor from someone whose voice had reversed to prepubescence.

When all was about as perfect as he wanted it to be Hashirama threw his tiny body in to the very middle of the mess and began squirming around with all four limbs flailing. Irritating as the situation might be, that was still an adorable sight that forced Tobirama to hide a smile. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to wait at least until the little idiot fell asleep before he slipped away to hit the books. He just hoped that whatever spell had shrunk his brother would not have any adverse effects with lengthy exposure; it would be just his luck to finally have everyone back to their correct age only to discover that he had accidentally saddled himself with a man forever stuck in the mind of a child.

Not to mention that Mito would have his head for that.

He wasn’t the only one who seemed suspiciously okay with the proceedings. As unselfconsciously as though he were entirely alone, Madara straightened to pull off his outer robes and reached back to sweep the great mass of his long hair behind him. While he listened to Hashirama chatter excitedly about the bedtime stories they should tell he separated his hair in to three sections and began to braid the lot of it in to a thick rope. It was entirely unfair how much more approachable he looked without all that snarled black wire bristling around his head.

Tobirama looked away before anyone could catch him staring. He occupied himself instead with fussing at some of the blankets, turning the edges down and pulling them in to place a little better. Presumably Hashirama would be sleeping in the center and even at his full size he somehow managed not to hold on to any body heat during the night. All the blankets around them might feel excessive but they were probably necessary.

In an effort to relax himself he allowed his body to flop down over the mess of bedding, grateful when his head landed at least somewhat over a pillow. There would be no escape until little eyes had fallen asleep so he might as well get comfortable for now and since he had no long hair to braid or extraneous outer layers to remove there was nothing to do but consciously loosen the muscles in his body until he felt himself all but melting down in to the futon. Someday when this nursery was occupied by actual children he was pleased to note that they would undoubtedly be quite comfortable with soft beds, tasteful decor carefully chosen for a soothing atmosphere, and so many spells layered together for climate control he didn’t think it was even possible for one to grow cold in this room - unless you were Hashirama. A good place to raise children.

Crude as it was, his plan of waiting until Hashirama fell asleep to make his escape sounded perfectly fine right up until the tiny traitor passed out sprawled over his lap in the middle of a story he used to recite for their younger brothers. As soon as Tobirama realized what had happened he fell silent with a baleful glare.

“What’s he done now?” Madara asked with a snicker. “I thought the whole point of telling him stories was to make him fall asleep so what’s with that look?”

“I didn’t mean for him to do so on top of me.”

“Guess you’re trapped here with us, then.” Strangely enough, he didn’t look all that upset about it for a man who’d never seemed particularly enamoured with his best friend’s little brother.

Heaving a deep sigh of resignation, Tobirama closed his eyes and prayed to the spirits of water for patience. This was exactly the sort of situation he did not want to be in. He’d been stupid enough to admit that he was keeping something from Madara specifically and now here he was trapped in place at the other’s mercy. If he wanted to move he would risk waking Hashirama who was even more likely to simply blurt out his secrets than he was to reveal them on purpose. With despair he noted that it seemed Hashirama’s plan would be coming to fruition after all, the bastard. There didn’t seem like a way out of this now. If he woke Hashirama and left his Anija would simply tattle on him but if he stayed here Madara’s relentless personality would not stop until he had the answers he knew were being kept from him.

Staring back at the expectant grin watching him like a hawk, Tobirama could already taste defeat heavy on his tongue. He wasn’t going to get out of this without making a fool of himself. At least, he consoled himself, it wouldn’t be all that hard to avoid the man for a decade or so and by then either his feelings would hopefully have faded or Madara’s memories would have.

“Anything you want to fess up to while we’re stuck together?”

“You,” Tobirama snarled, “are not stuck anywhere. He’s not even a little on top of you.”

“I forgot how cute he used to be - in a dorky sort of way. The lack of bowl cut is a definite improvement.” Already sitting with his legs crossed, Madara folded himself a little tighter so he could lean down and inspect the small sleeping face between them.

Tobirama did his best not to track the movements of that thick braid or think about how much he wanted to unravel it loop by loop with his own fingers. It took a sizable chunk of self control but he managed to meet the other’s gaze once Madara finally sat upright again. “After a prank like this one I am tempted to recreate the bowl cut while he sleeps. He deserves to be laughed out of town.”

“Oh come on, he’s just trying to get you to open your mouth as far as I can tell. So why don’t you just make your confessions and then everything will be fine, ne?”

“Go to hell.”

“Been there, done that, won the throne.”

“Ugh.”

Even that was enough to spawn some very interesting pictures in his mind, images of this man in dark robes lounging on the throne of hell, which made Tobirama glad that he had more self control than most. Otherwise having his brother spread across his lap would have suddenly become twice as awkward.

“Go on then, putting us both out of our miseries now would save a lot of time and badgering,” Madara said.

“And yet I still find myself reluctant to say anything,” Tobirama shot back.

“It must be extra embarrassing then; I’ve got to know!”

With a scowl he turned his head away and declared, “No, you don’t.”

“The more you protest the more curious I become,” Madara laughed. The truth of the statement brought one of Tobirama’s hands up to drag tiredly down his face.

“Right. I should have expected that. Would the reason why we’re in this situation satisfy you? That sounds like a decent compromise to me - and brother is always whining at the two of us to compromise more.” It wasn’t as though they didn’t get along at all but they were both possessed of cantankerous personalities that led to bickering more often than not. Hashirama hated it but Tobirama was often grateful for the way his feature naturally affected a scowl, neatly hiding the fact that he actually enjoyed their verbal spars.

“Sounds entertaining, at least!”

“Hmph.”

Entertaining the other was the last thing he was after, no matter how deviously attractive Madara looked when he was bent over with laughter at someone making a fool of themselves. Right now his biggest concern was mitigating the damage. With that in mind he shored up what little courage he had left the matter and cleared his throat.

“In a stroke of brilliance that I was unaware he possessed - and will happily beat out of him later - Anija located a spell that requires an incantation to break. He chose a certain phrase that he would like me to say, something he has made the decision on my behalf that desperately needs to be said out loud no matter my personal feelings on the matter.” Tobirama took a deep breath in an effort not to get himself riled up. “In short, I am under duress to make confessions I would rather not. Does that satisfy you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Madara declared with a grin.

“You cannot be serious!”

His companion fell back in to the bedding with a bark of laughter. “If anything I’m even more curious. So he won’t turn back in to an adult unless you say whatever he set as the decantation?”

“Mn.”

“Would just be easier to get it over with, wouldn't it?”

“Not really.” Tobirama studied a spot on the wall without actually seeing it. “One doesn’t just say things like this without expecting the consequences to be remembered. You do, after all, have quite the long memory when it comes to mocking others. Not so much when it comes to important dates.”

“I forgot his birthday one time! One time!”

For a moment he breathed a subtle sigh of relief. Madara seemed content to be distracted by going off on a rant about how it should be completely forgivable that in several hundred years he had only missed one of Hashirama’s birthdays, too deep in his studies to see the way time marched on around him. It was a state that Tobirama could more than sympathize with, although that did nothing to stop him from throwing it in the man’s face whenever he needed a good distraction.

To his poor luck, however, today his foolproof distraction failed him at last. Madara’s rant ended after only a handful of minutes when he snapped his jaw shut with a suddenness that clacked his teeth together. A curl of his top lip slowly blossomed in to something downright evil looking.

“Something you don’t want to say to me but Hashirama thinks that you should.” He cackled softly under his breath. “Oh this promises to be so embarrassing. Perfect! I have to know!”

“No, you don’t,” Tobirama said again.

“I really, really do.”

A growl slipped out between his teeth as he gnashed them together. “What would it take to convince you to just drop it?”

“More than you could ever afford,” Madara answered promptly.

“Would begging help?” Tobirama’s voice carried a note of mounting desperation.

Yet still Madara shook his head, expression filled with malicious delight. His toes were practically wriggling with it. If it weren’t for the visual comparison spread across his own lap Tobirama might have been tempted to call the man a child for looking so pleased over something so cruel.

Why, in the name of all things holy, did he find that so attractive? Clearly there was something wrong with him.

“I’m afraid you just talked yourself in to a corner by piquing my interest even more. Which means that you have two options.” Madara held up his fingers in a V shape. “One, you tell me whatever this gift wrapped blackmail is yourself. Two, I wake Hashirama up and we hear it from his mouth instead.”

Tobirama stared at him with his heart sinking in his chest because the man was right. He had only two options and of those two he knew which one would feel worse. Saying the words himself was going to end in pain - for more than just himself if his plans for revenge had anything to say about it - but cowering in the corner like a shy child ashamed of his own feelings while someone else exposed his vulnerabilities? Just the thought of standing back and letting that happen made him shudder. It took several tries drawing breath deep in to his lungs but eventually he was able to force his chin up, shoulders square. He held Madara’s gaze for all of three second before his eyes skittered away of their own accord to stare at the wall instead.

“Madara,” he breathed, “it would make me very happy if you would take me on a date tomorrow.”

“W-what?”

“AH!” The booming baritone of Hashirama’s voice was startling after an afternoon of listening to his seven year old squeaking, almost more of a distraction than the way his body returned abruptly to its usual size with a rending crack that echoed off the walls. When he sat up he did so with the clumsy movement of a new faun learning its own legs. “Did I fall asleep? How did the story end? Why does my voi- oh! Oh brother! You must have asked him! I’m so proud of you, I can’t wait to hear how your first date goes!”

Shoving his giant lump of a brother off, Tobirama ignored the indignant whine as he surged upwards to his feet and stormed towards the door. “Don’t hold your breath. The answer is no.”

“You said no!?” Hashirama exclaimed, turning to his best friend who sat very still with a poleaxed expression.

“I didn’t say anything…”

“He never said anything, Tobi. How do you know what his answer is if you don’t let him speak?”

“Easy.” When he paused at the door to look over one shoulder he could meet neither of their eyes. “There was never a chance he would say yes.”

Without waiting to hear a response from either of them he turned back to the door and left, down the hall and through the many twisting corridors of his brother’s stupidly large home. Drafting seals in his mind to cancel out the magic expanding the inside of Hashirama’s house was so much easier to think about than the fact that he would probably have to avoid Madara for the next couple of decades. The man did have a long memory. There was really no guarantee he would ever forget but hopefully the shine of mocking Tobirama for his feelings would have faded away by the time he allowed them to talk again.

His nose wrinkled against the cold when he finally managed to find his way outside to the cobblestone streets of the capital city. Council meetings; he’d forgotten that all three of them sat together on the Magic High Council. That would make it infinitely harder for him to avoid conversing with either of those morons but he was sure he could find a way. Maybe he could design a rune that would remove his voice for a while.

No, that would make it difficult to sell his wares when he needed money. Not to mention that many of the spells he spent his time researching required incantations. He would have to think of something else.

It wasn’t exactly a long journey to his own modest home next door, although with his head lost in the swirl of dark thoughts it felt like it took forever to get there. Stepping in to the ring of fae-fire light illuminating his front step brought with it the familiar shiver of wards scanning him for ill intent and he was glad to have his attention pulled back to reality. Thinking about Madara wouldn’t do him any good. It never had before. Tomorrow he could lock himself away with several notebooks and brainstorm some underhanded method or another to minimize the contact between them until he could meet the other man’s eyes again but for now the best thing would be to just get some sleep.

The house was dark and Tobirama didn’t bother to turn on any lights, familiar enough with his own layout not to need them. Living by himself as he had for so long meant that he really felt no desire to expand the inside as his brother had. What need did he have of more space? He already had more rooms than he knew what to do with, filling most of them with books and the results of failed experiments, so the thought of adding more felt ridiculous.

Even without light enough to see it Tobirama could feel the comfort of his living room the moment he stepped inside. Well worn carpet buoyed his steps on his way to collapse down over the threadbare couch. Not many things in his house had been replaced in the past couple of centuries. Impressing the rare guests who entered was far less important to him than the precious memories attached to every item here that had been with him through discoveries, achievements, and heartbreaks. He gave the cushions underneath him a chance now to help him through one more of the latter as he stretched out on his back to stare up at the shadows on the ceiling. Would that he could turn his mind off. To not think any thoughts for several hours would be a wonderful boon at the moment but sleep felt as far away as the ocean.

A good thing, as it turned out. The spirits of water only knew what sort of reaction he might have had to being awakened by the sound of booted feet storming in to the room and a violent hand smacking the light switch without looking. Despite knowing exactly who had invaded his home - he knew those footsteps, would always know the pattern of that confident stride - Tobirama pulled himself in to a sitting position where he could glare down his unwanted guest.

“I have never understood,” he growled, “how you always bypass my wards.”

“Don’t need to. They let me in just fine.”

“They shouldn’t!”

“Why the hell not?”

Shifting forward to the edge of his seat, Tobirama pointed back down the hall. “Get out. I have better things to spend my night doing than being mocked by you - like figuring out what loophole you’ve found that keeps letting you in here.”

“They’re intent based, aren’t they? I get in because I have no intent to harm you in any way.” In deliberate ignorance of being asked to leave Madara stepped further in to the room. Somehow he managed to look both his usual confident self and oddly hesitant, arms folded closely to his chest.

“Like hell you don’t. It’s not just physical harm they’re supposed to guard me against. Just leave. I don’t want to listen to whatever-”

“Just let me talk!”

Sitting down while the other hovered menacingly over him felt like weakness, like offering himself as bait, so Tobirama stood to fold his own arms with a frown. “I’m sure I don’t want to hear whatever it is you came here to say.”

Whether that be mockery or some kind of apology for not returning his feelings he really didn’t want to listen. Both options would hurt equally as bad. It was something he had observed long before falling prey to the same thing himself; beings like themselves with lives extended by the magic in their veins tended to harbor their pains much deeper and much longer than the humans with more natural lifespans. He’d been in love with Madara for so long it was hard to remember when he first decided to push it all down and simply forge ahead. Learning to let these feelings go was going to be even harder than learning to ignore them had been.

“I think you do. But first I need to know; did he make you ask me that because…”

“Don’t make me say it,” Tobirama said quietly, looking away.

“So you do... Then you meant what you said to Hashirama? You really think there’s no chance at all that I could ever say yes to you?” Madara took another step forward only to pause when Tobirama took a step back in answer.

A glare probably wasn’t enough answer so he forced himself to say, “Obviously.”

“W-What do you mean ‘obviously’? That’s not- Like hell!”

“Either make sense or leave. Actually, just leave. Now.” Tobirama took a step back with the intention of turning and walking away. His bedroom was much more heavily warded than the rest of the house, he would be safe in there from whatever the hell was going on.

He froze when Madara blurted out, “I would have said yes!”

“I...beg your pardon?”

The particular shade of red currently spreading across Madara’s face was one Tobirama had long ago learned to associate with an impending explosion, generally one of words and almost always directed at himself. Some part of him braced for impact out of sheer habit even as the rest of his body hung loose with shock and his thoughts ground to a stuttering halt. He watched Madara fidget and held his breath.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. You like me, I’m allowed to like you back!”

“Since when!?” Tobirama demanded. Then, because that didn’t feel like enough, he also spluttered his way through, “How? What? Me?”

“Of course you! It’s always been you! You’re the only one who knows how to properly yell back at me, you’re so smart already and you still spend every day lost in your studies, you’re more attractive than I know what to do with; who the hell wouldn’t say yes to all that?” With a toss of his head Madara scoffed and tried to stand casually as though he weren’t blushing redder than his own family crest.

Tobirama could only stare. “I don’t...what?”

By the determined expression on the other’s face Tobirama figured he should probably turn tail and run when Madara began marching across the room towards him. As luck had it, he was still too deep in shock to do anything but stand there like an idiot until his collar was bunched up in a pair of fists.

“Fuck it,” Madara snarled. “Neither of us was ever any good at words anyway.”

Despite all the clues laid out so neatly in a row for him Tobirama’s first thought when he was yanked forward was that he was about to be headbutted, a ridiculously mundane attack considering how much magical power they both wielded. Nothing could have possibly surprised him more than Madara’s lips crushing against his own in a kiss that began as brutally as their clashes ever had only to soften, taking and taking and then suddenly asking, exploring, reaching out with a question he could finally understand. It took several heartbeats for him to respond through the shock but when he did-

Oh, when he did. Centuries of yearning coalesced inside him and faded away to dust as he slid his fingers in to midnight hair and tilted his head for a better angle, a deeper kiss. Madara sighed in to the affection like he too had been waiting much too long for this moment. The feeling of that strong body pressed against his own was like finding the other half of himself and finally finally coming back together again. Tobirama held tight and prayed that none of this would disappear when he woke the next morning.

“Was that clear enough?” Madara asked him in breathless words, quiet as though he didn’t want to disturb the moment.

“I will have a lot of questions,” Tobirama warned him. “Later. Just- again.” He was grateful that his incoherency made sense to the other, pulled in for another kiss that felt like learning how to breathe for the first time.

They could have made their way to the bedroom, to the couch he was still right next to, up against the wall or anywhere really. It was late and the day had been filled with more emotions than either of them were accustomed to dealing with in such a short time span. Still they remained where they were. Even when the kisses began to fade and the desperation in their movements settled in to the confounding knowledge that this was truly happening they stood where they were, wound together with their eyes closed and their cheeks pressed against each other in silence. Tobirama breathed in the scent of smoke and ash, closed his eyes, and smiled.

Maybe he wouldn’t kill his brother after all. It was possible - unlikely as it sounded - that Hashirama had been right in the end. And as much as Tobirama protested the methods used to force his words in to the light he was self-aware enough to know that he would never have said them otherwise, too wrapped up in his own interpretations to see the truth.

Another deep breath and Tobirama admitted to himself that he should probably thank his brother. Without interference he might have never had the opportunity to feel the beat of Madara’s heart against his own, the way their chests pressed together with every synchronized breath in. His eyes cracked open but it was only to crinkle at the edges with a smirk as evil as he had ever been accused of being. Thanking Hashirama could come after the revenge he was equally owed. A few smiles, a day or two of playing nice, and he was sure he could weasel out of the man which spell he had used to reverse his age. Tobirama was patient. Locking his brother in that limited body for a week or so would be so much sweeter after Mito came home and he could leave the idiot to her lack of mercy. Only after apologies had been given on bended knee would he relent.

“You’re thinking something evil,” Madara’s voice rumbled in his ear. “Your fingers always twitch when you do.”

“Sorry-”

“I like it. You’ve always been a mean son of a bitch and that’s part of what I like about you. Share whatever evil thoughts you have in your head?”

Tobirama bit his lower lip to keep himself from laughing, curling tighter around the body in his arms as he whispered, “Stay.”

“Always,” Madara whispered back. “I always meant to stay.”

It seemed like it should be impossible to have everything he wanted handed to him as easily as that but Tobirama was hardly going to question it. He questioned enough in his research. All thoughts of giving thanks or revenge could wait until after he’d spent at least a few good hours memorizing the way it felt to finally hold this man in his arms.

Pressing their lips together again was more of a rush than any magical discovery had ever given him, dusting his cheeks with a pleasant warmth, and Tobirama decided that he was happy to stand here for the rest of time if it meant he never had to do anything but trade gentle kisses just like this. It felt like the events of tonight had gone by so fast he wasn’t entirely sure how any of this had happened but that was alright.

“Always. I like the sound of that.”

#rae writes #madatobiweek2020 #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction #magic au

41 notes · View notes

xgryffinwhore · 4 years

Text

Young Sirius Black x Reader!!

Stolen Star

summary: You and Sirius have been best friends for a while, but what happens when he gets sick of burrying his feelings for you?

warnings : fluff, liiiiight smut, i may have spelt words wrong?

This was a regular evening you spent with your friends in the chilly Gryffindor common room, late November, gathered by the fire and goofing around as you all had done for years previously. It was your 6th year, finally. As the night rolled by, the laughter became more contagious, and smiles widened to what witty thing James was going to say next. Remus and Peter sitting on the floor laughing at him. Lily hiding her face, embarrassed of her choice of a man. And you and Sirius. Like always, together.

You and had grown up a few houses down from James, so entering Hogwarts wasn't lonely. He made friends quickly, but you didn't. You were very independent, that’s why most people found you intimidating. But James understood that and introduced you to the infamous marauders, who became your family faster than anyone imagined. The entire group was inseparable; you, Lily, James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius went everywhere together. But you and Sirius moved as one. But you and Sirius, you moved as one. From the moment he met you, he knew you were going to be important to his life.

You were sitting with James during dinner, it was the first night of Holiday break after exams, and your parents went to Ireland to go visit a sick fired, so you were forced to stay at school. James' parents learned fast that having James at school as much as possible was most beneficial to their stress levels, so he was also spending holiday break at school. You were eating your pudding, laughing at James’s fail of a paper snowflake when a small lanky boy with messy black hair sat across from the both of you. You looked up immediately, his grey eyes we're playful and guilty (of what, we do not know) and had was looking rather mischievously at James when you caught his eye. ”Mate” he threw a pea at James’s temple ”Whos that?” he side-eyed you. Are you joking? You were right there. ”Are you serious right now?” He snickered ”Yeah, yeah I am, Who are you?” Then you remembered. It’s Sirius Black, he pantsed a 5th year and got hung up on a flag pole. You’ve heard things about him; absolutely not one thing good. You smirked lightly and said ”I could tell you..” you trailed off and loaded for a spoon with pudding. ”Or, I could just” and you wanted the gushy chocolatey mess directly onto his cheek. James boomed milk out of his nose and hit the table laughing uncontrollably. You got up and walked away, hearing a distraught yet entertained Sirius equal ”Oui I like her, she's got spice!” All break, Sirius bothered you, trying to get to know you better. You eventually gave in.

And now here you are, years later and closer then magnets. Your personalities complimented each other, and you absolutely adored each other. Of course, you thought of Sirius as more than a friend, the sexual tension between you two was astronomical, but you knew he thought of you as a sister. As the night went on, Sirius’s arm never left your shoulder. This hand always found its way to your knee. And he was constantly looking back at you, to see your reaction to things he and his idiot friends were doing. It was late, you were tired ”Lils, I'm going to bed, come with?” you gestured at lily with your fingers, she grabbed them and you both waved goodbye to the boys. Giving them hugs and goodnight messages. ”Night Sirius, ill see you tomorrow.” He smiled at you and kissed your hand ”Goodbye doll, I'll be seeing you bright and early tomorrow, saving your seat.” And with a wink, you were up the stairs in bed, sleeping soundly after a long lovely night with the people you love.

*Sirius POV*

There she goes, the girl with the perfect wink, the perfect smile, the perfect shoulder to rest on, the perfect everything. Sirius had it for you bad, for years now, how could he not. All his mates knew, the people who saw you knew, and the ones who didn't, wouldn't take long to figure it out. He was going to tell you that night, he swore. After your foot disappeared from the stairs, the other three boys gave him quite the nag. ”I recall some cocky bastard declaring he was going to confess to a certain Y/n how he felt tonight, hm?” James poked at your rib. ”Yeah pads, it's killing us, and I bet it's killing her,” Remus said roughly. Remus and James passed an upset Sirius, bumping their shoulders with his and heading up their dorm. Peter followed quickly, giving Sirius an empathetic look. Sirius stood there for a minute, thinking how stupid he was, Y/n is a perfect girl, if she doesn't like him she doesn't like him and that's that. But it's killing him and everyone around them to see they're flirting goes unsolved. He knew what he had to do.

*back to reader*

You some up late the next morning, around 10. You missed breakfast, and Lily was sitting on your bed, looking at you and beamed when your eyes opened. ”Good morning Y/n, Sirius is waiting for you down in the common room, had said rake your time.” You rubbed your eyes and waved her off. You out on one of your casual skirts and your usual Sunday jumper, Y/f/c of course, it brought out your eyes. You pulled back your hair in a messy low bun, leaving strands out to frame your face. You skip down the stairs to see Sirius waiting on the couch. You tap his shoulder and are greeted with a bright smile. “Lauren” he grins standing up and picking you up, throwing your body over his shoulder and out of the portrait hole. “Sirius!? Where are you taking me” you begin picking his back and kicking. “Love, it would be so much easier if you just trusted me and waited” he patted your bum and you hit his spine. He set you took you up the astronomy tower. “So you mean to tell me you got me out of bed and carried me like a sack of potatoes, to a tower to be used during the night, in the afternoon?” You liked at him confused; “Y/n can’t I just have no excuse to hang out with you? is it that big of a deal that I just wanted hang out” he turned away sounding annoyed. You walked up slowly and put your hand on his shoulder and turned him around “Sirius is there something wrong? I’m sorry, we hang out all the time I just didn’t know why you brought me here” she looked at him, in a way that made his heart wrench. He took her hand in his and with the other brushed the strands from her face “Y/n” he looked into your soul with those grey eyes “I need you to close your eyes for my love, trust me?” you did, blindly. Closing your eyes was intimidating, the second your eyes shut, your heartbeat sped up, and you knew he could hear it. you felt his face grace your jawline and baby hairs and suddenly, soft lips were on yours. you were breathless for a second, so was he. this was it. you wrapped your arms around his neck and back and parted your lips inviting him in. he took the opportunity with a low groan from the back of his throat. his hands hastily roamed your waste and hips, bring them closer to his core. His tongue darted in and out of your mouth, teasing you. His right hand began roaming the front of you, but stopped under your breast and tremored back down to your stomach. you broke the kiss to move his hand back up to cup your breast ”you can do that you know” you blushed. He looked down in amazement then back into your y/e/c eyes ”doll, I’m in love with you.” “Sirius, I love you” you whispered, that set him off. he picked you up by your thighs and drove you up the stone wall, holding you up and kissing you monstrously. you but your fingers in his hair and pulled it. Sirius let out a weak moan as he began creating friction between your womanhood and his member. you could feel his heat, and you were sure he could feel yours. you pulled his hair harder, rolling your hips into his, creating a sloppy, moaning mess. you’d never had sex, but you were ready for him. you’d been ready for him. you began taking off your shirt, but to your surprise, he set you down. you looked up at him in shock and confusion, but before you could question him he put his index finger in front of your mouth and smiled “there’s no rush Y/n, I’m taking my time with you.” You spent The remainder of the day up in the astronomy tower, sharing stories of how you almost told each other of your true feelings, and the memories you shared that were romantic, and every thought or feeling that you’ve ever had with each other. you were in the middle of kissing, Again (why wouldn’t you be its mother trucking Sirius black) when you heard to victory giggles from the stairwell. “ FINALLY! HALLELUJAH!” James cry it out, well Remus stayed by his side looking giddy. James walked over to Sirius and punched him in the shoulder “ Atta boy, knew you’d do it, you too need a good snogging” Remus came over and pulled James away and began ushering him down the stairs.

#sirius balck #harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter smut #young sirius imagine #young sirius black #young sirius x reader #sirius x you #sirius x reader #harry potter fanfiction #ben barnes #the marauders

23 notes · View notes

ofharrie · 5 years

Text

Summary: Harry and Y/N explore a...different side of their friendship.

Themes: smut, friends to lovers, virginY/n, pwp

Word count: 2113

(A/N: I’m back with another piece after not having posted since january oops hope yall like it please give me feedback also request for a part 2 if you liked it thanks heaps!)

masterlist

“What about if I...y’know?” Harry asked, gesturing with a wave of his hand.

“What if you what?” She questioned, cocking her head to the side as if insisting for him to just spit it out whatever it was on his mind.

“If I...deflowered you?” Harry replied bluntly, internally wincing at his choice of words. Never has he been made nervous by the subject of sex or anything remotely sexual. But it was sex with her that they were talking about and if there was ever anyone that made his palms cold and sweaty, it was Y/N.

The pair were in Y/N’s living room, sat next to each other in Y/N’s yellow couch passing back and forth a cheap bottle of wine. Neither of them could remember how the topic of Y/N still being a virgin came up in the conversation, but nonetheless it was now thrown out in the open. Y/N wasn’t completely inexperienced, per se. She’s had her fair share of kisses and she’s made out with a couple of people but she’s never done anything more than that.

Harry was not ridiculing her for being inexperienced, because of course he wasn’t! She’s one of his best friends, albeit they’ve only known each other for a little less than a year, but Harry can’t remember a time where he and Y/N weren’t in each other’s pockets ever since they met. So it was surprising to him, that after all the times they’ve spent together, they’ve never brought up Y/N sexual history until now.

“Deflower me?” Y/N let out a loud snort. “Will you also ask for my hand in marriage in exchange for your fattest goat and a sack of freshly harvested potatoes? This isn’t the medieval ages, Harry. You can say ‘virginity’, it’s not gonna hurt anyone.”

“I just didn’t want to be crude,” He scoffed, shaking his head at her. “But, seriously. What if I...I was the one to take your virginity?”

“Why would you want to do that?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Because why not?” Harry rebutted. “You’re one of my best friends, also one of the few people that I trust wholeheartedly. I pride myself in being a gentleman and I’ll even light candles and spread petals on the bed for you if you want!”

“But wouldn’t it be weird afterwards?” Y/N asked, completely ignoring Harry’s arguments. “I feel like it’ll change everything between us and I don’t want that. You’re also one of my best friends and I don’t want to ruin what we have because I’m still a lonely virgin!”

“It’s not gonna ruin anything,” He argued, setting down the bottle of wine on the wooden coffee table before them. “We trust each other, don’t we? If it ends up being an awful and awkward experienced, we can just never speak about it again.”

“I don’t think you’ve really thought this through,” Y/N said. “You’re going to be inside of me, Harry. How would it not be awkward afterwards?”

“Okay, then I don’t have to fuck you,” He backtracked, scooting a tad closer to Y/N so that their knees were touching. “I can just do things for you, if you want?”

There was a brief pause in the conversation, Y/N jutted her head towards Harry just to make sure she heard that right. Harry could see the gears turning in her brain and he knew she was in the midst of considering his offer.

“Like what?” She asked.

“Anything you want,” Harry replied, giving her a cocky smirk. “Say the word and I’ll do it.”

“What, now?” She scoffed, laughing at Harry’s words. “You can’t be serious. You’re bluffing!”

“But I am serious,” He reaffirmed, still with a smile on his face. “If you want me to eat you out right now,, I’ll get on my knees and devour you.”

She felt herself swallow the lump in her throat. Never has a guy offered to eat her out, let alone devour her. It made her head spin, thinking about Harry in any way that’s not completely platonic. Although she would be lying if she said she’s never thought about him sexually.

There have been nights where she’d toss and turn, thinking about Harry’s big, strong hands, or his long and slightly dishevelled brown hair, or even his lips that he’d sometimes pull on out of habit. But she never let her thoughts run too wild, immediately stopping as soon as she got too hot and bothered.

“I think you’re scared because I might not be kidding,” Harry observed. “I’m willing to do it if you’d let me.”

“Yeah?” She asked, sheepishly.

“Yeah,” Harry reciprocated, giving her a small nod.

They hadn’t noticed how close they’ve inched towards each other. Harry could smell the red wine in her breath, mixed with the perfume he bought for her after a trip in Italy just because. The warm, dim light coming from the thrifted lamp atop the wooden side table created shadows on her face, emphasising every bump and crease on the surface. And yet, Harry couldn’t help but smile and admire her.

Y/N’s heart was hammering against her ribs, her eyes going back and forth from Harry’s lips to his eyes that have gone a rich emerald colour due to the low-lighting in the living room. Time moved slowly as Harry reached out to cup her cheek before leaning in and connecting their lips together. His thumb caressed her face, burning her skin and sending tingles down her spine. Y/N thought she’s never been kissed so gingerly; Harry was being so soft and gentle like a proper gentleman, just like he promised. His other hand remained still on her exposed thigh, just below the hem of her cotton shorts, making no move to inch any closer to her centre.

Y/N cupped Harry’s jaw with both hands, deepening their kiss with the subtle movement of her tongue between his lips. He scooped her from her spot on the couch, manoeuvring so that she was now straddling his thighs.

“We don’t have to do anything if you want,” Harry spoke lowly, in between kisses. His hands have now found their place, one pressed firmly against Y/N lower back and the other behind her head. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N had to pause for a moment but not without sneaking in a few kisses from the man underneath her. “If it’s okay with you, I don’t want you to eat me out right now.”

“That’s okay,” Harry said, inhaling deeply to even out his breathing.

“Can we-” Y/N was interrupted by a quick peck from Harry on her jaw. “Can we keep kissing, though? And...um…”

“What is it, love?” Harry asked, continuing to plant kisses on Y/N’s jaw. “What else do you want to do?”

“I wanna…” She was trying to tell Harry that she could feel him against her thigh. She wants to ask him, beg him, to let her feel him grinding against her clothed core. But Harry’s wet lips pressing lingering kisses along her neck was proving to be a distraction.

“If you don’t tell me, I won’t be able to do whatever it is that you want,” Harry teased. “I told you, I’m down for anything.”

“I want to...um…I-” Y/N stammered, licking her lips before continuing to voice out her desires. “I want to grind against you.” The last part was dealt out in a rushed whisper that Harry almost didn’t catch it. Her request evoked a sharp breath from him, clearing his throat before speaking again.

“You wanna feel my cock against you?” He clarified, raising an eyebrow at the girl on top of him. He could feel her cold hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt, followed by a small nod from Y/N.

His hands pulled her closer towards him, eliciting a small moan from Y/N. Her crotch was now directly against Harry’s hard on and she’s trying her hardest not to think about how there’s only a few layers of clothing separating the two of them and how easily Harry could just take out his hard cock, pull her shorts and panties to the side and fuck her real good.

“Does that feel good, love?” Harry asked, thrusting up against Y/N’s heat. He liked watching her reactions, she looked so shy and yet so insatiable at the same time. Y/N brought her lips back to Harry’s, continuing from where they left off with their tongues in each other’s mouths.

Y/N began grinding her hips, desperately chasing the high of the friction between the two of them. Harry’s hands travelled down to her bum and pulled her even closer, matching her needy movements by thrusting up to her soaked heat.

“Tell me how it feels,” Harry said, his breathing laboured as he continued to explore her mouth.

“Feels so good, H,” She whined, followed by a loud moan from a mix of Harry squeezing her ass and giving her a particularly hard thrust. “I’m so wet.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, her words knocking the wind out of his lungs. He’s never heard such filthy words come out of her mouth and it made his cock dribble with pre cum. “Gonna let me have a taste one day? Let me feel your wet little pussy against my tongue?”

“Yes,” She answered quietly, reverting back to her usual shy demeanour. “Yes, Harry.”

“You have no idea,” Harry breathed out, his jaw go slack from pleasure. “How long I’ve wanted this. Been wanting to see you and make you cum for ages.”

“Really?” Y/N grinned, looking down at Harry who had a similar smile on his face.

“Yes, really,” He replied, leaning in to give her a kiss. “Can’t count how many times I’ve cum just thinking about you. You drive me crazy.”

“I’m so close, Harry,” Y/N whined, biting on her bottom lip in an attempt to conceal another loud moan. She no longer cared how needy she sounded, all she wanted was to cum with Harry’s leaking cock rubbing against her wet core and sensitive clit. “I wanna cum.”

“Take what you need, Y/N,” Harry said, his eyes fixed on Y/N who had her head thrown back and her eyes closed. “Use me to get yourself off.”

He could see a wet patch on his grey joggers, both from his and Y/N wetness. The filthy sight made his head spin and the desire to feel Y/N’s slick folds gliding against his bare cock grew stronger. He doesn’t think he’s ever been as hard as he was at this moment, with his best friend on top of him and looking like she’s never had anyone pleasure her like this before. And in fact, she hasn’t and it made his member throb.

“Oh gosh,” She gasped as she felt Harry nibbling on her neck and his hand reaching under her shirt to cup her breast. The mix of sensations was so overwhelming, driving her closer to her climax. “Harry!”

“You’re soaking my joggers, love,” Harry teased, wanting to help Y/N cum. “Can only imagine how you’d feel around my fingers. You want that, Y/N? Wanna feel my fingers fucking your pussy, pressing against your special spot? Feel my thumb playing with your throbbing clit?”

“So close,” She whined, continuing to move her hips against Harry. “Keep talking. Please.”

“What about my cock, huh?” Harry whispered against her ear, picking up the pace of his thrusts. “I bet you want to know how it feels to squeeze around my thick cock while I’m balls deep inside of you. Can feel me in your stomach, that’s how deep I’ll fuck you,”

A long, drawn out moan came out of Y/N’s lips and Harry felt her tremble before freezing. He studied her face as she came undone, not wanting to ever forget the way she looked after he made her cum. Her head was thrown back in pleasure, mouth slightly ajar and her chest heaving up and down as her shaky palms rested on Harry’s shoulders. He was already certain that image was all he would think about when he closes his eyes before going to bed.

“Holy shit,” Y/N breathed out, smiling at Harry who was staring at her, dumbfounded by her actions.

“Look so beautiful when you cum,” Harry commented, letting out a breathless laugh. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” Y/N said, smiling down on him.

“That’s good,” Harry replied. “So...how about some pizza?”

#writing #hs*#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles writing

148 notes · View notes

essays-for-breakfast · 5 years

Text

One Vow

Melizabeth Week Day 6: Promise/Devotion

Promises. At this point, Meliodas had made and broken so many he had lost count. He had promised Hawk to pick out the empty bottles and store them somewhere other than the top of the counter. He had promised Ban another round of their ongoing arm-wrestling competition to give him the chance to make up for his last defeat. He had promised Merlin to keep that tiny creature with an appetite for scorched fingers in her lab alive while she visited some far off library. Of course, he had failed all of them, so broken pledges were part of the course with him.

Hawk had no reason to be surprised that Meliodas had, in fact, not practiced his cooking skills.

“You can’t tell me all of this is just lack of talent,” the loudmouthed swine yelled and pointed accusingly at the food in front of him with his hooves. Meliodas considered adding pig feet to the menu of his tavern. “You are nothing but a lazy pig, you could do better if you tried! Or you want to poison me with your terrible scraps.”

“That isn’t scraps,” Meliodas said and pulled the plate of baked carrots and potatoes out of Hawk’s reach.

“Which only proves my point. How are we supposed to attract customers when they die of disgust as soon as they eat a spoonful of that?”

“Well, we have a travelling tavern, so I only need to lure them with the smell of the food once. Never said I wanted long-lasting relationships with the drunk folk you call customers. Besides, I heard roasted bacon is really popular these days. Fits great with Aberdeen Ale.”

Hawk narrowed his eyes which only made the fat in his cheeks more alluring. A good slate of pig cheek – not even Meliodas’ lack of skills with a frying pan could ruin that image. “The ground on which this establishment stands belongs to me. You would have long starved if it weren’t for my generosity. And just so that we’re clear, Mama will eat you if you try anything funny.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

The floor stopped swaying as Mama Hawk halted at their destination on the hill outside the next town, only to tilt as she dug herself into the ground to create the illusion of a normal tavern that had been built from the ground up overnight. Meliodas grabbed Hawk by his ears to prevent him from skidding through the room like last time before he marched into the kitchen to prepare for the first customers.

The shoebox of a room in the back of the circular building showed all the signs of a tavern without any employees – apart from the fund manager who happened to be an excessively talkative pig. Sacks and caskets with ingrediencies stacked on every surface and most of the floor, and the mix of plates without one to match another towered on the workbench next to the sink. Maybe before his next stop, Meliodas would find the time to furnish a new cupboard.

He pried a fork from the basket in the corner and took a bite of the meal Hawk had assaulted with words. Awful. Even worse than how Hawk had described the taste. With a frustrated sigh on his lips, Meliodas showed the remains into Hawks bowl on the floor and frisbeed the plate onto the top of the stack of its mismatched brothers where it landed with an indignant clatter. Where was Ban, that criminal, when he needed him?

The first guest dribbled into the tavern, and Meliodas greeted them with a cheerful grin and a tray of ale mugs. From the looks of it, business would run well today, nothing to worry about. Some of the folks brave enough to order food accused him of poisoning – enough to make Hawk raise a smug eyebrow –, but another serving of ale appeased them.

Meliodas was about to mark this day as the best one in a while, when chatter about a rusty knight on the lookout for the Seven Deadly Sins caught his attention. Sure, whenever season was dry and people had nothing to gush about, the old stories about the Sins resurfaced with more ghastly details than the previous year, but no one had been idiotic enough to look for them until now. And as if the mention had summoned a ghost onto Meliodas porch, a knight clad in full armor stepped through the door and rattled, “The Seven Deadly Sins…”

Now that was interesting.

But Meliodas’ clientele viewed the situation a tad differently, screamed at the top of their lungs, and made a run for the door faster than the eye could see. In no time, Meliodas was left alone with the Rust Knight swaying back and forth like a drunkard. He sighed. Ghost apparitions were bad for business; he wouldn’t sell a single mug of ale in this town as soon as word spread about the supposed murder knight who searched for the even more murderous Seven Deadly Sins.

Well, now that the Rust Knight had found its way into his tavern, least Meliodas could do was find out why he was looking for him. “Who’re you?” he asked.

As an answer, the knight reeled back and crashed on the stone tiles with a rumble loud enough to alert every Holy Knight in the kingdom. The knight’s helmet rolled under a nearby table to reveal its owner’s identity…

…No, no, it couldn’t be, what were the odds? She had no reason to travel this far away from the capital, no reason to search for him. His eyes must be playing a trick on him, the girl was nothing but an illusion created by his desperate mind because he hadn’t seen her in so long. And yet, the face under the helmet belonged to her without a sliver of doubt. Elizabeth.

She had grown since last Meliodas had seen her, her soft features had abandoned some of the childlike roundness in favor of maturity. He knew every inch of her soft skin, had stroked these cheeks in love and death with fingers bleeding, cold, or full of life. He had dreamed of these fine eyebrows and the small, adorable nose day in and day out, no matter if he was with her or without her. He had kissed these lips more times than he could count, kisses of innocent love, of unending devotion, of tear-filled goodbyes. These silver strands Meliodas had brushed a million times charmed her face as she lay on his tavern floor still as death if it weren’t for the faint sound of her heart.

She was a mirror image of the original Elizabeth in every sense of the word. They had all been, all 105 incarnations between then and now had dawned these features Meliodas couldn’t help but fall in love with, over and over again, until the day the earth would stand still. But for reasons Meliodas failed to find words for, this version seemed closer to the one he had first met during the fires of the Holy War. She was her, and yet she was all of them at once.

And before Meliodas had taken a single step forward to check her heartbeat, he had already lost himself in his love for Elizabeth for the 107th time.

But he had to make sure, convince even the last fiber of his heart that wanted to doubt she had returned to him this soon. Meliodas removed the pieces of armor until the girl wore nothing but her skintight black undergarment. And the more of her curves he revealed, the more Meliodas had to force the muscles of his face into an emotionless mask, even though his seven hearts beat against his ribcage with adoration and longing; he couldn’t allow Hawk to see how much their guest threw him off balance.

She felt too light, malnourished and defeated, in his arms when Meliodas carried her to the second floor and placed her into the cushions of his bed. Hawk struggled to climb the steps with his short legs and warned Meliodas to keep his hands to himself while he worked hard to heave his bacon up the stairs. But for just one moment, Meliodas was alone with her in this room that had felt lonely until she had come along to fill the emptiness with her presence.

He took Elizabeth’s hand and pressed the limp fingers against his cheek while he fought down the tears. The last remains of doubt had long faded, and her scent of summer days long gone filled his mind with regret strong enough to drown him.

“I let you down so many times,” Meliodas whispered. “How often did I promise you I wouldn’t let you go through this again? I promised to break the curse when I had the hope it could be done. I promised to love you even though the thought of losing you always remained in the back of my mind. I promised to stay away because of how much I hurt you – but it seems I failed. Again.”

Elizabeth remained motionless under his touch. If she died right here and now, the curse would still have triumphed. Meliodas would have been in lost in love while she died in front of him. The same way their shared path always ended.

“I promised to continue to fight and free you from this curse even if you die. But look at the failure I am, Elizabeth.” The chuckle escaping his lips sounded more like a desperate sob. “I will make it up to you. A thousand times over with interest. As long as you stand beside me and lend me your strength. I won’t fail you this time.”

Meliodas’ promises might have little value left with how often he had broken them, but he swore he wouldn’t allow this Elizabeth to die. He would learn all about her quirks, the things she enjoyed in life and the nightmares that kept her up at night, no matter what it would take. If he had to take Zeldris’ power, if he had to face the Ten Commandments all at once, if he had to wear the shackles of the Demon King, he would do all this and more.

This time, Elizabeth would live.

This time, Meliodas would keep his promise.

#melizabethweek #nnt fanfiction #my writing #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins #fanfiction #meliodas #elizabeth #melizabeth

43 notes · View notes

centuryofdean · 5 years

Text

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 9

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+ At this point in the story there isn’t much, but later on the M rating will come into effect.

Warnings:: Language and Violence

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Laurel

How was I supposed to tell him I was scared to love him? If something happened to him I would waste away like my mother. The ache in my chest was replaced with something more when he was kissing my neck. If it hasn't been for the fact that everyone was mere feet away I would have probably turned around and jumped on top of him, only to regret it later. No matter how much I tell myself I can't put myself in that position, I know deep down I am already there.

Once he finally fell asleep I threw the blanket he gave to me cover him and myself, curling into him. Almost as if he sensed my movement, he turned onto his side, letting me fit in the crook of his neck. He threw an arm over me and pulled me closer, sniffing my hair. A sigh of contentment filled me, this is where I was meant to be.

Suddenly he grasped my bottom and gave it a squeeze.

Oh Kili.

I was woken by someone kicking my leg. It wasn't a light kick either. With a rub to my eyes, I squinted against the rising sun to find Thorin standing above me. It was difficult to try and untangle myself from his nephew. Kili's leg was wrapped around me along with his arm. Surprisingly the prince was a heavy sleeper, as he did not wake when I pulled his arms and leg off of me to get up.

Thorin was still standing before me, watching intently.

"Did you need something," I asked somewhat bitterly.

"A word with you," he muttered with distaste.

I rose, stretching as I followed Thorin a little ways out away from everyone. We came upon the stream, where he bent down and splash water on his face and drink lightly. When he rose and wiped his hands on his pants I stood a little straighter. Even if I didn't care for him he was still a king, right?

"You are not of this world," he started as if it were a rehearsed speech. "You will come with us to the Lonely Mountain, so we can return you to your world. If it fails and you cannot be returned, you are to go stay with the Hobbit in the Shire. He has agreed it would be the best for you."

"Okay," I sighed.

"You are not to get close to Kili."

A harsh laugh left me, "It's already too late for that. He knows me better than anyone in my world, and now your's."

"I have seen how he looks upon you," Thorin spat. "He is infatuated. He is heir to be king if something happens to Fili. Dwarf kings do not mate with Halflings."

That jab didn't hurt at all. Halfling. If it weren't true I would have been insulted.

"Alright," I muttered, "anything else?"

"This journey will be long and hard. If something happens to you I will not lift a finger for your aide. I will not be stopped by some mere girl that cannot take care of herself."

A scoff left me as my arms crossed over my chest.

"King or not Thorin Oakenshield," I spat out, "I won't stand here and let you insult me just because you don't like that I'm not a dwarf. I can take care of myself plenty out in the woods. It seems you have forgotten, so let me refresh your memory. I saved your ass and everyone else's from three damn trolls just a few days ago. "

A look of disgust passed his face. "If it not for Kili I would leave you here," he muttered, "for if I left you, he would stay as well. Your words run wild and you speak of things you do not know. You have no place among us."

Did he seriously forget already? It was at least a day ago that I shot the trolls with arrows. At least a day ago I put out a fire lit under a spit of dwarves and cut half of them out of potato sacks. Things I did not know? What I knew is that he was a pretentious--

"Whatever. I didn't plan on trying to pursue Kili anyway, so don't get your trousers in a twist," I muttered.

Someone cleared their throat, making my attention flip over to see Gandalf standing. He gestured to his left, revealing the rest of the dwarves. It appeared everyone came to listen in on the thrashing I was receiving. Kili looked more furious than myself. None the less I passed by each of them and back to where my things were. I wasn't going to stay where I wasn't welcomed.

After all my things were gathered I went back to the castle of sorts that the elves lived in. I was welcomed politely, even offered food. As I sat at the small table eating fruit everyone else came in to start eating as well. The mood was very somber, no one really speaking. At least all the food was fresh and plentiful.

Elrond joined the hall at the larger table with Gandalf. "Morning guests," he stated. "Tonight the moon will be perfect for reading the map you have brought. This time tomorrow you will be able to continue on with your journey with new knowledge and purpose."

Most of the dwarves cheered, starting new conversation soon after.

"Tell me Laurel," Elrond continued lightly, "why do you feast on the flesh of nature?"

I wiped at my lips, ridding myself from the juices of an apple. "Animals? Well because it is food," I stated confused.

"Elves value all life," Kili offered, "they will not maim animals unless their lives are in danger. Eating creatures is absurd to the elves."

"In my world it is very common for us to eat meat. There are farms dedicated just for it. I don't make a lot of money, so I hunt for food mostly, even have a small vegetable garden," I replied.

"Do you like it," Elrond asked interested.

"Yes, especially deer. Very clean and healthy meat."

Throughout the day I practiced using my newly acquired bow. It was beautiful. The string was very flexible, but easy to pull. I could not really test the distance it could shoot, but it did pack quiet a wallop. Though I did not hit my target every time, I was able to come pretty close. As long as my target in the future was big enough I would be able to strike fatally until I could make my aim more acute.

Kili didn't speak to me at all, instead he just watched me and followed wherever I went. It was sort of annoying, but I did not say anything to him about it.

Occasionally another dwarf, usually Bofur or Nori, would sit with me in the clearing and tell me stories of other adventures they had gone on. I told them of different things in my world.

"They are called airplanes. Huge machines that travel people or things from far distances. They travel in the air like birds," I explained.

"Amazin'," Bofur seemed dumb founded.

As night started to fall, the dwarves gathered back to where they first had a fire the night before. I was contemplating on if I should ask if there was a room inside I could stay in. Obviously Kili wasn't in a good mood, so trying to sleep next to him again probably wasn't in my best interest. Food was brought out here this time. I don't know how much longer I could just eat bread, fruit, and vegetables. This night I did not share wine, instead I drank water and ate my food in silence. Thorin and Gandalf both were missing from the group once more.

After finishing my food I read from my book of herbs again. It was marvelous, holding drawings of the plants and a description of what they can help with. Only a fourth of it I already knew from my grandmother, the rest was new to me. Maybe my mom was an elf and so was grandmother, she did look quite young.

Kili whom sat next to me elbowed me lightly, offering me something that he had just bitten off of.

"What is it," I asked before accepting it.

"Dried meat, go ahead," he nodded, "you can have the rest."

The meat was spiced like jerky, but tasted good either way. I thanked him quietly and continued to read from my book.

"What is that," he asked, pointing to the writing I made out of wet charcoal.

"This is English writing."

"It looks confusing."

"The elvish writing was confusing," I stated, "this way I can study from it. This here is what we call California Poppy in my time. 'Infuse it with water and it will make the drinker fall asleep.'"

He leaned in closely to watch what I was pointing to. For a while we sat by the firelight reading from my book, his arm draped around me lightly. Slowly I found myself curling into him like it was story time. We went through all the pages together, coming to the end where blank pages were for me to add things if I wanted.

"Show me how you write your name," his voice was soft in my ear. I printed my name clearly so that he could see. "Write my name."

I did the same for his not really knowing how it was spelled. So I simply wrote Kili out for him to see. The conversation around us grew into a mess that I stopped paying attention too, just background noise. My face rose so that I could look up at him. I felt his hand raise and play with my braid. "I am sorry about what Thorin did this morning. It was not right," he stated.

"It's fine," I murmured letting my head fall back against his shoulder as I shut the book. "I understand what he's saying."

Kili didn't respond, instead he wrapped me up in his arms and gave a soft squeeze. We rose together and moved to where we slept the night before. Without question I settled down next to him and did not fight it when his arm was thrown over me and pulling me to his chest.

"I do not know why you fight me Laurel," he sighed into my hair, "but for now I will allow you to fight me. Soon I will grow tired and not allow it."

Without our horses we were due to walk the rest of the journey the next morning. I made it a habit to stick to the back of the troop so that I didn't have to be anywhere near Thorin. Bilbo tended to float back and forth between the front and back to talk to me. If what he said earlier was true, then he was probably a distant cousin of some sort. It was odd to think that this world I was in was actually the past. There was nothing of this written in any books that I knew of.

By time we stopped for our first break I had to sigh in contentment. Never have I walked that much before in my life. It was very tiring.

Placed between Kili and Fili I did more work going through my book and checking the herbs that were packed in my bag. Most of them were dried and folded into cloth and tied. Some of the more rare things were placed in small glass vials of water, wrapped in cloth so they would not break.

Kili rose to disappear into the woods for a while. Once he was out of sight Fili elbowed me, glancing around at everyone and their positions.

"Tell me Lady Laurel, what do you see in my brother," he asked quietly, blue eyes alive with wonder.

It was one of the first times I actually looked at Fili. It was odd how the brothers were like complete opposites. Here is Fili the older brother with his long blonde hair, and braided mustache and beard. Bright blue eyes that would make women weak at the knees. From what I have seen Fili was usually the more serious of the two.

Then there was Kili, the younger brother with long black hair and lack of actual beard. His light brown eyes were full of mirth and fun. His nose was formed perfectly with his cheeks to scream perfection. Just thinking of his scruff against my skin had me closing my knees as they quivered.

"I see a lot of things in him. Though he is usually in a light mood of fun and laughs, he can be serious. I always find he is kind and selfless," I thought aloud, "he is strong and fights well I've seen. He talks fondly of family and friends. Kili does have a way of charming me, and I do find him quite attractive."

Fili laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulder to pat my back. "Do not let him hear you say these things! He already thinks too highly of himself, you would only make it worse."

"Why doesn't he have a beard and mustache like you," I wondered.

"Ah, he was never fond of the longer hair. He is still young for a dwarf, as he grows older he will become accustomed to it and start his braiding."

I eyed the clasps that kept the braids of his mustache together, "I've seen men braid beards in my world, but never mustaches. Your clasps looks like the one Kili put in my hair."

"He braided your hair? Put one of his beads in it did he?"

My brows furrowed, I did know that braiding was very important to them. Braiding the hair of a dwarf woman surely meant something to them I figured. "Yes," I trailed off, fingering it once more.

In turn he pulled me closer, leaning in and whispering in my ear. It sent shivers down my spine unwillingly. It was just because of the fact that it was hot breathe on my ear, but startled me none the less.

"I'm sure you understand that braiding the hair of a dwarf maiden is meaningful," he started softly, "it shows that he is interested in you as a mate. Putting our family bead in the braid says he is very interested. It is bold considering Thorin forbade the relationship. You do look very lovely none the less."

A soft giggle left my lips, charming woman must run in the family. I looked up to see that Kili returned, he was standing next to Bilbo talking, starring daggers in my direction. Why on Earth would he be in a foul mood now? He was just fine this morning. The feeling of Fili retreating from my proximity sent off alarms in my head.

He thought Fili and I were probably flirting together. Shit.

Just as I was thinking of throwing off Fili's arm, he removed it himself, coughing and looking away awkwardly. Kili didn't return to us for the rest of our break and left for the front of the troop while we continued on towards what they called the Misty Mountains.

"Well," I sighed kicking a rock while Fili and I brought up the rear, "seems we've pissed him off."

"Nonsense," Fili waved away, playing with yet another knife I haven't seen on his person before, "he is just jealous at the moment. By the end of day he will be talking to you again."

"I hope so," I sighed, "he's one of the greater friends I have. Especially here. There is nothing to be jealous of."

The dwarf next to me nudged me with his elbow once more, pointing ahead of us, "I don't know about that. I find your company likable, Ori, I think has taken a small liking to you as well.

"If I hadn't known about your attachment with my brother I would find an attachment to you I think. Do not worry about Kili, he usually has always been the jealous type. Though it is only the second time I have been the one he was jealous of."

Previous Chapter << Chapter 8: Sweet Apple and Wine Dances

Next Chapter >> Chapter 10: Pruned Gardens Bring Curious Deer

#the hobbit #kili x oc #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #kili x reader #kili durin #fanfic #fanfiction #when lightning strikes

11 notes · View notes

savage-rhi · 5 years

Note

The pregnant one was sooooooo cute. Can you do a follow up right after the baby's birth?

Since I’m on a roll, sure thing doll :D! Here ya go and thank you!

“Shh. You’re fine.” Higgs murmured to the newborn cradled up in his arms as he looked over Gene. She was sleeping peacefully at last. He watched as Gene’s chest had risen and fallen, thankful that the hardest part was over for her. The birth of their child had been joyful but scary. Gene’s cries and screams were still lodged in his ears, amazed she managed to keep going through the delivery despite the horrendous pain she was under.

Higgs knew after this long night and early morning, he was gonna kiss the ground Gene walked on for the rest of his life if he could help it. There’s no way he would have had the strength nor spirit to bring their little one into the world like she did. Not only that but being a vessel of another human being was downright terrifying in its own right. Higgs could remember when Gene was showing more pregnancy signs and how the baby would kick. They’d both jump as if an alien was going to burst from her stomach. Higgs and Gene heard pregnancy was a beautiful thing, and both thought folks were full of shit. In their eyes, it was creepy. It still holds true for them, even after the birth of their child, but Higgs was elated to be holding his little one after waiting all this time. He was still scared shitless being a dad nonetheless.

Higgs used a free arm to reach down towards the bed and cover Gene up with the clean blankets he got after the birth was over. He brushed some strands of hair from her sweaty face, tucking a braid he had done during labor behind her ear before leaning down and peppering the side of her face with kisses and a nuzzle. Gene groaned a little, barely moving. Higgs knew she was beyond exhausted, but he had to admit, they both did a good job handling the delivery all by themselves; not wanting to risk folks bombarding Gene nor have anyone harm their baby. They were still fugitives in America after all regardless of living in the Far North.

“You’ve hurt mommy so much I was tempted to punch your face when you came out. I thought I was gonna lose both you and mommy cause’ you were taking your sweet time playing peek a boo down there. Shoulda’ ripped you out, but mommy would have deep-sixed me and you’d never know I existed.”

Higgs admitted to his baby with a firm tone, rocking them as their little eyes opened staring at his face. They were blue much like his. Their hair the same dark color as his locks, but they had Gene’s face, her nose, her cheeks, the perfect combo of the two of them. The little one smiled up at him, making a soft cooing noise as their tiny hands flailed about in the blanket Higgs wrapped them up in.

“I worked hard to make you into a burrito, you knock it off.” Higgs said, the smile not leaving his face as he sighed. He was tired too, and not fully cleaned from the birth. He wanted to take a shower, but not until Gene got plenty of rest so she could handle their baby.

“I was scared you were gonna look like me, but you look more like a potato sack with a face. I can’t believe I was terrified of a little beast like you. You know, we weren’t prepared for you. At all. But you showed up anyway. ” Higgs started, chuckling a little as the baby’s eyes fluttered and closed, their toothless smile never ceasing to leave as they kept staring up at Higgs like he was their whole world. Throughout Gene’s pregnancy, Higgs talked to the baby before bed. Making it a habit. He wondered if they knew his voice well by now.

“You know how mommy and I met? I saved her from these bad guys and she had a hurt foot and then mommy started bringing me things cause I was a lonely bastard. Then mommy had to deliver this package to these people, and I went along as her bodyguard. We had all sorts of adventures, her and I. We got drunk, got matching branding tattoos, got into trouble, and maybe killed some terrorists papa used to run with.” Higgs chuckled as the baby laughed, almost as if they understood what he was saying. Their little one was hooked onto his voice, lovingly staring up at Higgs.

“I’ll give you the details when you’re older. It was a fun night.” Higgs laughed, minding to keep his voice down so Gene could continue to sleep. He paced around the room, rocking his little one while keeping his eyes fixated on them. He couldn’t stop admiring how beautiful they were.

“Papa did a lot of bad things. I tried to end the world. If I had done that, you wouldn’t be here looking at me with that sweet smile. I never would have met mommy. You have no idea how thankful I am I got my ass handed to me that day. I’d do it all over again, knowing I’d get to meet you.” Higgs said, not noticing he was tearing up. He brought his baby close to his face, their little hands reaching up to touch the scruff on his cheek as they cooed and smiled at him.

Higgs blinked a few times, feeling his tears fall as he rests his lips against his baby’s forehead, inhaling their scent. There was nothing to describe it, how he was overcome with a euphoria that rivaled how he felt when falling in love with Gene. He pulled back slowly, looking at his daughter in the face with pride. She was his.

“I love you. Papa loves you so damn much.” Higgs said softly between tears as she reached out, touching his nose, forcing a tired laugh out of him as she smiled before giving a yawn. Higgs brought her close to his chest, hugging her to him.

“Still have no idea what the hell we’re gonna call you, but you’re loved little pipsqueak,” Higgs said with a shrug before he started humming a song to her.

All the while, Gene had been listening the entire time despite her eyes being closed. She smiled big and tried to go back to sleep, finding it hard because she didn’t want to miss any of this.

**A link to my ko-fi account. If you enjoy my content and want to support me getting my monthly medication for fibromyalgia and arthritis, I would be eternally grateful. It is NOT a requirement however! All my work is free to read!**

16 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Faithfully Yours

Bring him home by Luke Evans , the final Prompt, and she left the most heart breaking for last, so here’s an old idea i’ve had for a while

…

Warning, battlefield c section mentioned, not really gruesome in being done but haunting to the oc who performed it i’ll ad -- around it

...

Five years, was all that stood between you. Servant to King Dior, his personal messenger as your Father stood as his Personal Guard and your Mother stood as Handmaiden to Queen Nimloth. Between messages you were free to your own leaving plenty of time for you to absently pass the shop of your focus with the blonde as equally set on stealing delivery paths to the Palace himself to steal glimpses of you. Two servants of varying stations meant to keep you separate but well below the Nobles you all served.

But fire came raining down form the sky and while your parents raced one way you raced the other. A trip to Gondolin had been planned and things were mostly packed so in a stolen path into the armory while the forces scattered a baggy set of mithril chain mail was taken and slid under your hunting garb you donned when the Princess Earwing felt the urge to test her bow and was in need of someone to *cough, cough* ‘outdo’. Vases flew and looking more like you were expecting you raced into the crowds fleeing the city through the paths your cousins were guiding them through after refusing to chase after the stubborn Princess shouting for the Feanoreans to come and face her themselves.

You were not an idiot, you had seen those flames and heard the cries of their assumed foes before and had no wish to remain, simply tore the shimmering stone from her hand and knocked her out allowing her other servants to carry her off in a sack to safety while you carried your own treasured hoard. All night you raced and finally came to a stop seeing the endless plumes of smoke filling the sky in the distance while echoes of the shouts of failure wafted on the breeze. Turned to face the sight pale blue eyes still locked on your back neared you admiring the flickers of moonlight lighting your white golden curls laying in a frayed leaf and twig filled braid down your dirt and soot coated back of your armored shirt over the bright red light that had lit you up in a pinkish hue in his brief glimpses in your fleeing.

Clearing his throat you turned and his mouth went dry having your silver speckled purple eyes on him, “Ada said we have room in our tent, Naneth smells rain.”

“Oh,” you glanced to the tent seeing his mother standing there with a soft encouraging grin, “Thank you.” Again your head swiveled and you stated, “I doubt they are here, however I cannot help but look…”

“I understand. I am certain when we cross Helcrax and arrive in Lindon proper name records will be taken for those who are misplaced.”

You nodded and flashed him a weak grin, there were no tears, no, you had far too much hope just yet to accept that end. Inside the open tent you ducked and accepted the corner they offered, laying your bag down they watched your hand remain fixed on your belly narrowing their gaze until they saw the armored cloak of yours unhooked and baggy mithril raised with the slip of an arm out the sleeve to free the sleeping toddler Princes from the slings draped around your neck and shoulders.

Thankfully they had slept the whole way and remained sleeping still with only peeks of their periwinkle eyes glancing up at you to close again as you brushed their white curls from their faces. There in that tent a promise was made, you now had two brothers and your place now was with your cousins who led the escape eager to keep up the ruse. With your family so close to the ruling family none really could say otherwise it wasn’t true past a knowing few unwilling ever to endanger the children you had stolen.

God on high

Hear my prayer

In my need

You have always been there

Helcrax seemed to never and bore the only cold your kin would ever suffer, but you and your cousins in the line tapering back to Ulmo’s only child forged ahead burrowing tunnels with swipes of your hands in turns forming tunnels the masses walked through until you tired yourselves out. Waking topped in thin layers of snow you burst free and begun your rounds again until a flash of green appeared on the other side of your icy wall letting in a gust of warm air through the endless tunnel closing in behind those in the back from the growing storm blocking you from the few Noldor forces chasing after your numbers.

Lindon held nothing but pain in no openings for you or real sense of space for your kin leading to your joining those who decided to head East, mainly those of lower rank not accepted well in the nearly full lush society. Another endless stretch led you past the lush green plains and hills and the Misty Mountains blocking off those on the other side until a curious band of dark and fiery haired Elves peered out of their forest and issued their curious shimmering expelled kin an invitation to dwell in their lands.

It is hard to say how but on the road new ranks had been set and Orophin now headed your people. His generous nature and disposition led to the Silvans accepting him as their King as well in the construction of the new kingdom to house your kin and theirs alike. But still alliances were kept and when it came time to choose Head Servant to the King one choice was clear. The twins were tasked to grow one day to sit on the Council and were cared for by the Queen herself in her adoration of the boys to keep them close and protected always within your view.

He is young

He's afraid

Let him rest

Heaven blessed

Battle was imminent and to stave off a countless stream of attacks the King had taken to locking himself away with maps and pouring over plans to try and save his men, though little to no plans ever saw completion in his deteriorating consciousness and mental capacities to follow. There were no Elves, but orcs and Goblins to face here in battle and the inexperienced King seemed to be teetering near his end. At the end of his parchment coated desk with scattered maps between he shifted a page for Thranduil to get a better glimpse of in hopes of hearing his opinion on the matter when the door opened and you walked through with tray in hand you set down right on top of the map making the King stare up at you in a weakened glare from his exhaustion.

“Nieninque! I did not call for a meal!”

Instantly your head tilted and Thranduil’s lips pursed in the crossing of your arms, “I noticed!” You had never so much as cleared your throat loudly in his presence since first you had spoken and never had spoken so boldly to him since his being named as King. “You have not taken any meal for a week now and for my own safety I have made inquiry into quarters in Lothlorien. After all if the King cannot protect his own health how is he to defend the safety of his people.” On your heel you turned and dropped your hands to your sides to open and close the door behind you in your usual peaceful silent manner so opposite to your previous behavior.

In a near growl the King plopped into his seat behind him leaving his stunned Prince lost for words watching him lift his fork and stab into one of the tiny boiled potatoes in the veggie mix beside the strips of seasoned chicken and ham he bit into and mumbled to himself around each bite clearing his plate then stormed his way off to bed. Heavily he dropped and did not wake for nearly a day but when he had a stunning plan marking no casualties at all came right away to him and with it a basket of sliced fruit came to your door with a highly thick apologetic note.

It was never mentioned what you had said outside his family and it would be a lie to say it had been the last. You were granted that freedom, it was never in malice or contempt of anything past their loss of common sense easily set right again.

Bring him home

A heart is quite a resilient thing, to break and break and still go on beating. That barrier remained and for all the clear respect you held it was never to be that he could be yours, a trip to Lothlorien sealed that in your very soul burning the words on the walls of your heart. The Prince found his Princess, a cousin of King Amroth’s wife Nimrodel, who upon return caught on right away to the sting of poison flowing through your body in a flinch of your gaze to the ground in bowing your head greeting the new Princess, who in all but eye color and the looseness of the waves in her waist length hair compared to your wall of self controlling curls often pooling into your face even in a complex braid. Instantly she felt your pain and then never a trace of it again in the more startling burial of it behind your unnoticed façade with tears none but you and the stars on your nightly stroll along the isolated peaks bore witness to.

. -- (skip ahead to the next dashes if you like)

Fire again came and with it the departure of the armed forces. Under guard of the twins Queen Taule left for Lothlorien and a few days behind her you and the heavily pregnant Princess traveled after in full caravan of guards. It seemed to come from nowhere, a hidden bear trap snapping the wheel of the carriage making it tip signaling your holding the Princess safely from the crash and taking the pain for yourself. Armed and free of the carriage you led her and the lone guard to safety, or tried to, two whistles flew and pained groans sounded. Instantly the guard was gone and the Princess collapsed to her knees gripping her belly as the arrow in her shoulder released its poison. Panting from the shock of it you stopped and turned to face the trio of orcs still on your tail, one by one they fell and echoes of more approaching nearly a mile off.

At her side onto your knees you fell teary eyed knowing how little you knew of correcting black arrows or mending injuries such as this in her own teary sobs realizing how this would affect her husband. A dagger was pressed into your palm and your eyes fell to it as she whimpered, “Save my child.” Your eyes met hers and tears rolled down your cheeks from your wide eyes, “That is an order! We have little time left before they are upon us, save my child! Only you I trust him with, only you! Only you could love them as I have.” Inhaling sharply she lowered your hand to her belly she had already torn the silk and tulle layers draped across it, “Now!” A stick she found was pressed between her teeth as you could see her glow waning already, if the poison wouldn’t kill her she would fade before you could manage this.

Screams filled the growl filled forest as the trees surrounding you fought to buy you time, a few moments was all she got and tearfully she held her crying son swaddled in her shawl she had kept clean between her raised knees. Just like that she was gone and again so were you, with all you could carry of the supplies running until you had to stop at an impossible tide restrictive river blocking your way. Gently you washed him clean along with the shawl you hung to dry while using another you had taken to keep him close to your heart hoping he would remain silent. Though hunger eventually hit and with it another discovery came, a faint glow in the stream whispered to you to nurse the child and surprisingly milk was granted to you enabling you to do so. Tearfully you kept your word keeping him fed, warm, clean and quiet, hiding him in a sling under your cloak as you found the way into Lothlorien.

Silent and slightly broken you took a corner of the hall granted to the visiting servants and guards remaining silent and distant with your hood drawn worrying many passing you in the word of King Oropher’s fall stirring up screams from Queen Taule doubling at the news of the injured return of her son. All seemed to be lost and silent you remained still feeling the blood on your hands from the act you had been ordered to commit.

On the moment of his arrival the Prince now King had ordered a search for his pregnant wife when news that your caravan had never arrived, one that returned with news of the butchering of the Queen taking his unborn son so far from his due date. He ordered the room be cleared, he wanted to be alone. Everything had changed and in his mind all had been lost, for nothing with regrets of the issue to evacuate the Royal Family from Amon Lanc.

Silent and alone you went catching the gaze of the twins, who broke the King’s solitude to inform him you had arrived, possibly with an explanation. Straight through you were ushered and in the dropping of your cloak he saw at once you had witnessed all that had occurred. Straight to his side you went in his stunned silence as he struggled against tearing his stitches to sit up and hold you tightly to ease your pain. With trembling lips you drew in a breath then eased back your cloak parting his lips in seeing the familiar shawl in your arms. Down you sat breaking rank so he wouldn’t injure himself, on his chest the boy was cradled in his own approaching sobs from the tears filling his eyes.

Broken and in a gasp you spoke, “I’m sorry!” Again you exhaled drawing out the Queen’s personal dagger in another cloth still bearing your prints and her dried blood, “So very sorry!” Again you gasped a breath and in a soft whimper of the boy the twins peeked inside with parted lips seeing the King kissing the head of his premature son far bigger than he should have been showing he had been well fed and protected since his terrifying birth. “I could not remove the arrow, and more were coming, and she ordered-,” Your lips quivered again and tears poured down your cheek as your body began to slide off the bed so you would be on your knees. “I killed the Queen. I fully accept-,”

Harshly his hand gripped one of your thighs and jerked you back up onto the bed to lay at his side, right where he held you tightly and closed his eyes in a sniffle while his son nodded off to the sound of his heart beat. Tossing the dagger to the ground he kept his hold on you and the pair of you wept for your losses until you fell asleep to be discovered by the former Queen in her arrival with food and fresh bandages. Tears fell from her eyes as her stirring son allowed her to take hold of the infant freeing him to dry your blotchy cheeks and pull you closer to his side closing his eyes again.

No punishment was to be taken, not when elation spread that the Prince, however a gruesome method in doing so, had been saved. Clearly you had expected to face execution but in being granted milk by the Valar Ulmo the title of Queen Mother had been granted to you along with the protection and nursing of the young Prince the former Queen herself had chosen you for. Hours he had thanked you when you had first woken and a familiar tale you had told of your mother had told you of the trees with the tiniest leaves in the first breath of spring bringing the most hope had secured the name for the tiny boy, the tiny green leaf that brought so much hope to the people for better things to come one day.

As often as he required to gradually learn all that had been said or done by or around you the King soon learned all and gained even more respect and adoration for you in all you had endured with still such kindness and love for the infant you were intertwined the life of eternally.

He's like the son I might have known

If God had granted me a son

The summers die

One by one

How soon they fly

On and on

And I am old

And will be gone

Times were growing tough and once again the prince found himself witness to your temper in his own struggle to put off sleep to dig through papers having stacked up in his weeks of healing. The cool sting of metal now unsheathed form his very hip found his own sword to his throat. Up his hand went and around your wrist it wrapped, clearly he could disarm you and yet when his eyes met yours he relented slightly uncertain of why.

“Bed, now.”

With a sigh he said, “I must finish reading these reports.”

“Either way you are near to dropping, if it is what it takes I will read you to sleep.”

Relenting to your will as his father had done the blade was traded for the reports and a new tradition was shared, him in bed as you read the reports he required each night from a stool along the wall until he fell asleep. Soon there had been plans to construct a second Palace in the Northern peaks and between trips to oversee that his time was most spent with you and his son.

The boy loved you, whole heartedly and between nights laying up staring at the stars with the both of them, climbing trees and running through fields of tall grass and flowers none could ever tell him he was anything but yours. Yet his teens had come and gone and with adulthood came with a curiosity for the Elleth that had carried him when it finally settled in that you and his father were not bound and both clearly was suffering from that fact.

Bring him peace

Bring him joy

He is young

He is only a boy

With walls came puppets and spies. Sauron and Melkor, both disguised for many held no sway over your knowledge of them in their many visits to King Dior. Shadows spread and in a try to find the best plan to alert the now haze minded King you had no clue how to waken. Away you had to go, past the band of Dwarves and Hobbit once you had been captured in your flight their shouts sounded as you were beaten unconscious and chained in side the cage with the tiniest Dwarf now cowering at the fiery gaze of the metal clad puppets now patrolling the halls of the kingdom.

The pair left returning to guide the Elf King to march upon the mountain himself for the gold inside to wipe out his armies, a troubling task itself even with the haze his mind was under. A fiery haired Elleth far too distracted in searching the skies slipped back inside in time to see your capture and in their flight snuck in to bring down the puppets and use the keys to let you and the company free.

Behind her the Prince had snuck and into your barrel he jumped refusing to leave while Tauriel lingered with Bilbo to help him into a spare barrel for the ride to Laketown. A trade of rings after one of gold was spotted in passing left the Hobbit elated at the sapphire ring able to shift him into a white dove whenever he wished and back again just the same, much preferred over the shadowy paths his left him wandering.

A bargain had been struck, another ring granted, one to freeze the giant beast and any of fire hoping to attack them enabling them to break apart with axes without trouble in return for humoring the Elf King and drawing things out as long as he could without drawing blood. Away you turned and sighed seeing Legolas staring you down, “You are mistaken if you imagine I am letting you go alone.”

Turning away you mumbled, “We can add this to the list of reasons to execute me.”

Instantly spurring up an argument lasting hours between the duo against you until Tauriel finally asked, “Just where is our destination?”

“King Thorondor’s domain.”

Legolas excitedly asked, “The Eagles? We’re going to see the Eagles?!”

The excitement died however at the straight climb up the endless peak for days on end finally a landing was gripped and you crawled up onto it and helped the duo up after you only to knock Legolas down at a swooping talon ended foot slashing to Legolas, who you covered. “WHO DARES ENTER OUR DOMAIN?!”

Kneeling forward nearly to the ground you replied, “Please forgive me, I have come to request your aid.”

“What task could possibly lead you to imagine we would aid you nameless Elleth?!”

“We have discovered Sauron’s Ring and require aid in entering Mordor.”

A round of screeches sounded as you all gripped the cracks in the ledge you were on in the gusts their flapping wings stirred up. “HOW DARE YOU BRING THESE MATTERS HERE!”

A sudden lurch to Legolas had his eyes widen and you jerk him down again to cover him as he squeaked out, “Naneth!”

“Don’t hurt them, please! I led them here! Don’t hurt them!” Gripping him tightly under you the shadow of the giant Eagle above you inspecting the pair of you and Tauriel curled up at your sides for a moment.

Above you the Eagle King spoke firmly, “Leave and never return!” Silently you nudged the pair back to the long climb down and quietly you vanished from their keep and you especially did not speak until you reached the bottom and you sat down in the snow bank there drying your lingering tears from the shock of what had happened.

To yourself you muttered, “I hoped they would help.”

Legolas crouched before you saying when your eyes met his, “Naneth, we will find a way.”

Tauriel nodded, “And they will greatly regret not aiding in our adventure.”

With a nod you stood and mumbled to yourself, “Adventure…” Continuing on the path taking you to the distant plumes of smoke and ash.

You can take

You can give

Let him be

Let him live

If I die, let me die

Let him live

Atop another peak you crouched eyeing the flaming darkened city making Legolas’ eyes go wide until you said, “The river.”

They both looked at you and you pointed out a tiny river flowing under the Eastern wall making Legolas ask, “The river lets us in, then what do we do about all of them?”

With a smirk you answered, “We break the dam.” His brow inched up and you showed him the dam located half a mile from the river used to power a great deal of machines parting their lips. “You can wait here, if you wish.”

Tauriel, “We are not abandoning you, Queen Mother.”

Legolas, “Naneth, you should know well enough the stubbornness of Elves to question our loyalty to you.”

Oddly frigid water led you inside to follow the currents to a set of rocks you used for cover to start the path to the dam with tossed rocks far in the distance to spur up distractions to remain unseen. Up a rocky path you climbed and to a set of mechanisms you climbed a built in ladder and broke the securing bolts and seals of the pipes around the dam building the pressure making you cling together in the wall of water crashing down into the city stirring up a call to open the gates. That however would take time, and you used it to your advantage to muster up a raft you bent the water to urge it towards Mt Doom. Up the ridge you ran and after tossing the ring away into the lava the pair pulling the raft helped you ease it into the water at your sign and held on for you to ride the waves of water pouring out through the gates.

Earth cracking below you had you leaping off at the last moment to roll to safety and spend a few elated giggling moments on the edge of oblivion before rolling to your knees for the walk home again. A shadowy path however led you right into a trap, one of riders from Gondor who had seen your path to the darkened now disappeared city. The ring had bored deep into the minds of those corrupted and it would take time to free those minds and with Gondor being so close the effects were so much stronger. Hard shoves and blows were given until you again were thrown into a cell coughing across the cold stone floor with the duo in separate cells across from you staggering to their knees shouting your name at your slow rise.

Eventually you did after a few room settling moments and spat blood into the corner in your wincing rise to your feet at the nearing of another guard. A sudden grip of your braid and tug on his chain mail sleeve to bring him in reach had your braid around his neck parting the lips of the duo across from you listening to his heart slow as he stopped struggling. Right after he slipped unconscious you let the chokehold loose and grabbed the keys on his belt freeing yourself and them after. Through the city muffled shouts and cries came with every person knocked out along the way until you were finally in possession of your things and free again to slip into the night on the moonless night.

The race however came to an abrupt end in your steadily slowing pace to a trot and near collapse bringing the attention of the duo to the dagger you had sutured in your thigh, the blood loss from which had your eyes rolling back in a slump forward. They tried to catch you, but a much larger foot did instead. Far from over head in their path of monitoring the tasks and paths you had taken a pair of Eagles had followed you, one now carrying you and the other, who snatched up Legolas and Tauriel.

Bring him home

Execution was the last of your worries, or would be had you not been unconscious. Locked inside your apartment you were seen to on the hour every hour as the Prince and Tauriel were questioned thoroughly by the King. It wasn’t the corruption, the shadows or even the number of people having been locked away to send his stomach churning, but the thought of finding your blood stained apartment, now scrubbed clean, without any sight of you, his son or Tauriel.

It was right there, always right there. How he loved his Wife so easily, she was the version of you he was allowed to project his adoration onto, and what was worse she knew it, mentioned it often his bond with you he brushed off as friends. It was always more, the pregnancy news that sent him full panic at, now he realized not being yours, calmed when you were the one to find him off riding on his Elk in a faked need to scout supplies for a gift. You said he would be a great father, a great King, but he never wanted her, it was all yours. None of this would be here without you, his father surely would have lost it all, none could have passed Middle Earth or the Misty Mountains, and surely wouldn’t have passed Helcrax.

There was such a peace when you were named Queen Mother, everything felt right, but that damn bed, that damn empty bed he no longer realized as you read him to sleep and bled into his dreams only to shatter him at waking alone. He had found peace with you. A peace shattered when your bloody limp body was left in the middle of a garden by Eagles followed by his son and Captain of the Guard behind you to share how you had been injured.

The weight weighed heavily on Legolas, he swore he had seen a dagger in that final hall be drawn on him and you made the Man go flying with your punch, you were safe, you were supposed to be safe. But he didn’t get it, you loved him, and he meant more to you than life itself. Thranduil repeated the very sentiment you had shared with him when he confronted you about his birth mother, when you had given him the still bloody dagger expecting him to take revenge. But he dropped it and clung to you. Teary eyed he sat watching his father leave after the tightest hug he’d ever received from him that stirred a lingering ache in his ribs. You chose his barrel, the sturdiest and least likely to leak, you chose his portions always bigger than yours, you covered him when facing the Eagles and pled for their safety saying nothing for yourself.

That was love. Unflinching and selfless. Life was meaningless if he wasn’t safe and happy, you knew there would be sadness but he had time to be happy again if you fell in his place. So much had been sacrificed and it all returned to every pained glance you never knew he saw. He knew your smile, your laugh, the pure joy exuding from you when you were with him, and then is father would come and each glance, word and step closer or apart held a weight he couldn’t place, the same the opposite way. It never ended the tension and finally that dam was to break and he would make certain that all left unsaid would be unspoken somehow. It all had to come out, or surely you would drown from the blood seeping out of your torn open heart.

Quietly he sat replaying each moment he had missed sharing all he thought of you and as you slept, just as in your absence he wrote it all out for you. One journal turned to two and on his reach for a third after two weeks asleep your eyes opened and he stood crossing to plant his knee on the bed, “You are never to leave these walls again.”

Inhaling sharply you took that as your eternal imprisonment until his hands claimed yours in your reach to surrender to being bound and they were planted over your head in a warm kiss melting into forty three after ending with his settling at your side reaching for the first journal as you panted, “How long have we been back?”

“Two weeks and two days. Now rest.”

He opened the journal and you asked, “Shouldn’t you-,”

“Shhh. You will rest, and you will listen until I have read it all and long after until you have shared it all as well, by then the wedding service will be prepared.”

“Who is getting married?”

“We are.” Kissing you in a nestling hold to draw you closer to his chest for him to rest his cheek on top of your head and begin to read.

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf, @pastelhexmaniac

#Theincaprincesswritingchallenge #30daywritingchallengebytheincaprincess #thranduil x oc #hobbit #lotr

22 notes · View notes

malexmalereader · 5 years

Text

Jesse McCree x FtM!Reader - drown it out

A/N: Me??? Writing something depressing for myself to indulge in because I am big sad??? It's more likely than you think. hello yes, I almost cried writing like this HAHA I'm so damn lonely. High five!

Info: the ftm character in this one has undergone top surgery and is on hrt - thought I'd start mentioning that.

TW: dysphoria and depression

You don't quite remember when Jesse's said he'd be back. In the evening? Or maybe tomorrow morning? You are just hoping it isn't any time too soon.

The music blaring out of your headphones into your ears was a pitiful attempt at drowning out self destructive thoughts and the same old depression making it's way to your heart.

It hurts, and you don't know what to do. You feel empty as you slowly get out of bed, shoving your phone into the pocket of the jeans that you didn't take off yesterday evening before going to bed. The next song started, almost too loud to handle. Though, it just made you feel comfortably numb.

You drag yourself to the bathroom, staring into your reflection before taking a quick look out of the window. It's noon already. How long have you been sleeping? Who knows. Who cares, anyway?

You grit your teeth together, knowing that Jesse would care. He always did. And that's a point you didn't understand. At all. How have you gotten this lucky? Luck usually wasn't on your side. The thought that Jesse might find someone better one day nagged at your mind, although you would never admit to feeling this way.

You stare back at your reflection again. You had borrowed one of Jesse's flannels that hung loosely, making it almost look like you are wearing a potato sack or something.

Your view lingered on your chest. The scars were faded - long since had been - but you couldn't help but feel weird about them once in a while.

You were glad how far you'd come and yet...the occasional feeling of being nothing but a fraud and lacking bit right through all confidence you'd built in the past decade.

You know you are a real man. There was no doubt about it, but every time you heard people talking -even when it was with no intentions to be rude, maybe they were just uneducated - you couldn't help but feel like everyone could see right through you. You felt weak and vulnerable in those moments, no matter how confident you'd felt before.

You let out a shaky breath, holding yourself up with your hands desperately supporting your weight on the edge of the sink.

You'd thought by now you wouldn't feel this way. Everything was supposed to be fine.

You are ripped from your thoughts by the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

You practically jump out of your skin, swivelling around. With the music turned up you hadn't noticed Jesse stomping up the stairs, coming into the bathroom, approaching you and maybe even calling out for you.

Quickly you take your headphones off and Jesse frowns at the volume before trying to look into your eyes. You avert yours in shame, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation.

You feel how Jesse wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close, his flesh hand finding its way to push your hair out of your face.

"Honey?", He gently calls out and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes before letting out a weak hum in response.

"What's wrong?", Jesse asks. You swallow before answearing with a quick: "It's...nothing."

You hear Jesse sigh in response, he seems to be looking for what he could possibly say next. The music from your headphones was filling the silence in the room that would else just crush you.

"Can you look at me?", he tries, his hand caressing your cheek. You hesitantly raise your head slightly to look at your boyfriend. His eyes become sadder, his eyebrows narrow together in worry as he notices the tears in your eyes.

"This really doesn't look like nothing, Darlin'.", He whispers, scanning your face for an answear. You lean into his touch, biting the inside of your cheek.

"How about we go cuddle on the bed a bit?", he now suggests. You take a deep breath, determined to at least give him one proper answear. You feel bad about making him this worried about you. "...that would be nice.", you croak out, trying to manage a genuine smile.

Jesse smiles back sadly before carefully leading you back into the bedroom where you plop down on the bed, him sitting down behind you, pulling you into another warm embrace. He presses a kiss to your neck before nuzzling his face against your skin, his hands stroking your sides as his heavy frame leans against you. It was...tender. And comforting. And a kind of love that you hadn't felt in so long. Thinking about it, Jesse was the only one this affectionate with you.

Another terrible thought strikes your mind as you pull your phone out of your pocket and turn of the music.

If Jesse ever leaves I'll have no one

You know that that isn't true. You have friends and family, and yet...your mind played the dirty trick on you often, but you never found a way to make it stop.

Before you know it you're shaking and crying, tears dripping down on the blanket under you. Jesse lifts his head from your shoulder and gently brings your face up to look at him. It is a bit uncomfortable turning you head this far, but you don't care.

"Are you sure that it's nothing, Baby?", he asks, his own voice sounding strained and close to tears. You take a moment before choking out an answear.

"I've just been...feeling off.", you say, your throat hurting and the words barely sounding proper. "Like...the usual, you know? Same old shit as always.", you try to laugh at your own misery, it's ridiculous, isn't it? This feeling. It's misplaced.

"(Y/N)...", Jesse sighs, holding you a bit tighter "I'm so sorry..."

You stare at him in confusion. "What do you mean? This isn't your fault.", you state, your voice still weak.

"But you shouldn't feel this way. That pretty little head of yours should be free of those damned thoughts.", he explains, slipping your hands into his, almost holding on for dear life. "I'm sorry...", you now say. He's right. These thoughts shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be depressed.

"I don't mean it like that...you're allowed to be sad, but I just...", he stops talking and takes a deep breath. "I hate seeing you like this, not even for my sake I just...I just want you to happy again."

"We've been over this often enough, Jesse.", you begin "I'll get over it eventually, won't it? It's always been that way."

It's always been that way. You're in a slump and then you aren't. And then you're again and it's a never ending cycle and even after all those years you haven't found a remedy.

"I know, but...", Jesse is slowly running out of things to say, also knowing how it goes down. He abandons the sentence he started and squeezes your hands lightly.

"You know I love you, right? I won't leave. I won't go and I'll do everything in my power to bring back that beautiful little laugh of yours.", he declares, looking right into your eyes. You can't help but smile slightly.

"... of course I know that.", you begin, leaning your head again his shoulder, glancing up at his face. "And I...I appreciate that. I...", you take a deep breath. "I love you, too."

Jesse let's go of one of your hands to cup your cheek, bringing you in for a soft, loving kiss. You enjoy every second of it, taking a moment to open your eyes after he pulls away.

"Now, how about we bake a pie together? Some cherry pie filling, listening to some Willie Nelson? How does that sound?", He ask, running his fingers through your hair. Your smile grows a bit brighter.

"Sounds good."

120 notes · View notes

kakuzuisabigidiotwholoveshidan · 5 years

Note

Thoughts on Kakuhida breaking up (and coming back together)? I mean, their whole thing is that they ~hate~ each other but there isn't anybody better but maybe in certain settings (I'm thinking modern AU, for example), they do because they have different values and are just different people. I was just listening to some songs and made myself sad :/ I would love to know your thoughts because I love your execution on these things as I don't see the topic often with the ship.

Hmm, that’s a good question. I agree, I can see them having a very volatile relationship, but more so in a modern au than canon. I don’t think they would break up in canon, especially not as long as they are still fighting together. What’s the saying? “Couples who slay together, stay together.” They might go their different ways in an “everybody lives” au, when the Akatsuki breaks apart and they try to make it on their own, but sooner or later they would probably gravitate back into each other’s lives.

But in a modern au? Oh boy. I can easily envision them breaking up A LOT. Like, all the time. It’s probably usually Hidan who says “I’m out, bitch” and then two days later he just crawls back into Kakuzu’s bed without apologizing. Or Kakuzu gets one of his bursts of angers and throws Hidan out of his apartment because their relationship can’t possible be worth all the headaches he gets.

And then he gets bored. And lonely. And his flat feels entirely too empty. He’s in the middle of a meal eaten in deafening silence when he sighs and throws the chop sticks back into his take-out. It’s already dark outside, but he knows where Hidan will be. As soon as he spots him, he drags him back by the scruff of his neck without another word.

Hidan’s friends were really alarmed the first time it happened, because a tall, brooding stranger just kidnapped their friend, but Hidan complained only mildly and looked entirely too pleased with the whole situation, so they just shrugged. By now, it’s a regular occurrence and they make sure to exchange pleasantries with Kakuzu while he carries his boyfriend home like a sack of potatoes.

“Ah, Mr. Taki, took you long enough! He’s been drowning his sorrows in alcohol.” -cut to Hidan half-asleep on the counter-

“He’s been a real idiot this time,” Kakuzu explains while rolling Hidan off the counter. “Anyway, Todd, how’s your mother doing?”

“Much better! Changing her insurance plan helped a lot, thanks for the advice.”

Kakuzu picks Hidan up, slowly shaking his head. “The cost-benefit ratio was terrible. She’s getting a lot more for her money now.” And then he disappears into the night and all Todd and the others hear are mumbled threats about not puking in the fucking car.

They probably break up less and less as they grow old together, but might still do it sometimes just for old times’ sake, keeping all those fond memories alive. Like, other couples celebrate their anniversaries, they celebrate their break-ups.

What I’m adamant about is that they always come back together. Is the reason for this that I like my happy endings and am a soft, soft bitch? It sure is. They already didn’t get a happy ending in canon, so it is our job to give them one. I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

#kakuzu #hidan #kakuhida #modern au #ask #I'm still working on the other asks #I haven't forgotten about you!#I'm just slow as fuck #sorry #my writing

15 notes · View notes

babbushka · 5 years

Note

I would love to see V: “Velvet is the best material ever.” with Flip, about a reader who doesn't get dressed up often or something? Idk you have complete creative freedom, I just really like that prompt. Also your writing totally rocks !

Please accept my most humble of apologies for how long this has taken.

(new prompt submissions are closed for right now! I’ve got quite a few to get through though, so please keep an eye out for those!)

Word count: 1400

Warnings: mild smut but not really this is really tame lol

When you opened the front door after the sounding of the doorbell rang,you hadn’t recognized your husband for a moment. Gone were his worn flannel andcomfy jeans that you had kissed him goodbye in that morning, replaced instead witha very simple yet elegant black suit. He had combed his hair nicely so that thelayers framed his striking face, and he smelled of the cologne you buy him eachyear as a Hanukkah gift.

“Hello handsome.” You grinned, stepping onto the porch andclosing and locking the door behind you.

“Hi ketsl, you look stunning.” Hegreeted you, leaning down to kiss you sweetly.

You wore a black velvet dress,long sleeved to keep your arms warm against the chill of the early Spring evening,but with a completely open back. Flip’s hand hovered just there as the two ofyou walked down the few steps to his truck, where he held the door open for youand helped you in, your shoes looking beautiful but not doing much to helpagainst the last bits of ice leftover from the blizzard last week.

“Are you going to be comfortablefor the two hour drive?” He asked, once he rounded the other side of the truckand climbed in.

“Yes, I’ll be alright. Thank youagain for taking me, I’m so excited!” You beamed up at him.

“Anything for my girl on ouranniversary.” Flip leaned over to kiss you once more, making you blush with affection.

The Central City Opera House wasone of the oldest in the country, and you had never been. You had recently uncoveredsome old records of operas at a secondhand store, and you had been playing themnonstop as background music to help keep you company while Flip was at work,but you found yourself falling in love with the music and even went so far as togo to the library to read translated versions of the words.

Flip had no fucking clue what anyof it was or what it meant, but he knew it made you happy. So, he got dinnerreservations at a nice steakhouse near the theater, and tickets for theupcoming performance of Tosca, whichwas your latest favorite.

The drive up to Central City wasa fun one, filled with excitement and light jokes. Flip told you of his day atwork, and you caught him up on the gossip of the neighborhood. You kept onehand on Flip’s knee the whole drive, and he would snatch it up and press kissesall over it at any red lights making you laugh brightly. Any time it got too close to his crotch he would pinch your thigh, but that just spurred you on.

“You should probably cut back onthe steaks.” You teased him once the two of you were tucked away in acandle-lit booth at the upscale restaurant Flip had gotten reservations for. Hehad ordered filet mignon for the occasion, and you shook your head fondly. Youneeded him healthy, to take care of you, to take care of any children you mighthave.

“You feed me too well, I’m notworried.” Flip rolled his eyes in response. He swore he probably ate morevegetables in the time that you were married than he had his whole life prior.

“Six years of me feeding you, anddare I say you look better than the day we met.” You agreed with a smile. Hehad always been attractive, but there was something about him now that he wasin his thirties that just drove you wild. You absolutely chalked it up to yourfamous cooking, certainly not genetics or biology or anything like that.

“I can’t believe you’ve put upwith me for six whole years.” Flip blushed ever so slightly, reaching to takeyour hand across the table. “Boy am I one lucky son-of-a-bitch.”

“Don’t talk about Esther that way.”You grinned, squeezing his hand playfully. “Come sit over here, I’m lonely.”

“We’re going to sit next to eachother for three hours, and then another two hours home.” Flip chuckled, gettingup anyway and cozying up to your side on the booth. He knew it wouldn’t havebeen proper to drape an arm around your shoulder – this was a two Michelin starafter all – so he settled for lacing the fingers of his right hand with that ofyour left.

“I don’t care.” You beamed,pleased to be next to your best friend.

“Sometimes I wish I could marryyou all over again ketsl.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and then releasedyour hand so that the two of you could eat – couldn’t have that filet gettingcold.

“I wouldn’t say no to a secondhoneymoon.” You teased, and Flip found himself thinking how he could get awaywith taking you on a long vacation, he wanted to give you everything he could.

He felt that way too when he hadbooked the opera tickets, but when it came time to actually sit through the thing,he realized he really didn’t like opera at all. The stage and the building werenice, but he had no idea what the people were saying, and the booklet didn’thelp when he got lost.

“What’s happening now?” Hewhispered into your ear for the fifth time.

You were enraptured, practicallychewing your lip from the tension of it all. Yes you had listened to the songsat home a dozen times, but it was so much different seeing it live!

“Spolleta, just told Scarpia thatAngelotti killed himself. Scarpia declared that Mario must be executed toounless Tosca gives in to his advances. If she does, Scarpia will stage a mockexecution.” You whispered back, much to the annoyance of the people next toyou, but you paid them no mind. You were having an amazing time with yourhusband.

“That’s very dramatic.” Flipremarked, scanning the pages of the booklet to try and catch up to where theyactually were in the plot – he had been a good five pages off, no wondernothing made sense.

“That’s opera.” You winked,snuggling up against him in the dim light of the theater.

He watched you the whole time, sneakingglances and holding your hand. Every now and again you would catch him looking,and you would smile, try your best not to laugh and really piss off the people next to you.

Eventually, the giggling won,particularly when your stomach had rumbled a bit during a quiet moment, you hadto cover your mouth to not get completely kicked out. Flip thought that was worthevery minute of confusion, seeing you enjoy yourself.

“I was thinking…” You said oncethe opera was long done and the two of you were back at home. “I’d like us totry and start a family.”

You had spoken about it before,late night conversations about kids and the future, many times. You were bothon the same page; wanting to wait until the timing was right, wanting to makesure you both were mentally and financially prepared to care for a child, butyou felt that the time was right. Something in your mind just seemed to click.

“Are you sure?” Flip asked, freezinghalfway through shrugging off his suit jacket that he looked devilishlyhandsome in.

“More than sure, it was all I couldthink about all evening.” You blushed.

He rushed to your side, handswinding around the back of your dress, feeling up the soft fabric.

“Velvet is the best material ever,” Flip murmured, his lips against yourneck, “But I need to get you naked, now.”He pulled down the zipper that held your dress on, and tugged your arms free ofthe sleeves, letting the fabric drop to the floor.

It was almost funny how quickly Flip’sbrain short-circuited, when your completely naked body was revealed to him. Youhad forgone undergarments, planning that the evening would take this sort ofturn.

“God you’re such a slut, I loveyou.” Flip groaned, pressing his face right in between your breasts and suckingat the skin just at your sternum.

“Happy anniversary honey.” Youlaughed, squealing as he slung you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoesand carried you up the stairs two at a time.

A happy anniversary indeed.

Tagging some pals! :) As always, if you’d like to be added or taken off the list please just shoot me a message! @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam @dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @aweirdlookingtree@rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape @arwarz @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem @fallin-for-youreyes

#reader insert #flip zimmerman x reader #flip x reader #blackkklansman #prompt fill #my writing #Anonymous #cowboy answers

97 notes · View notes

7deadlycinderellas · 5 years

Text

The First Warm Day

Ao3 link

Arya hadn’t been sure how she would like living as far south as Storm’s End. The North, with Winterfell and it’s heavy snows and deep dark forests was part of her blood. But after a few weeks in their new home, and Arya felt she could definitely get used to it.

Gendry wasn’t as fond of the heavy rains as she was, but he liked the ocean. That was probably why on that morning, he had elbowed her awake, with an

“Arya. The rain has finally stopped.”

Arya sits up in bed, blinking to rid her eyes of sleep. When she recognizes the sun shining past the oil cloth covering the small window on the other side of the room, she throws off the checked blanket and moves to get up.

“Can you put the kettle on? We’ll have porridge for breakfast, but I want to take my bath first.”

Gendry pokes the coals back to life, and pulls the kettle from it’s spot on the window before putting it over them. Arya fills a cup of oats and adds them to the water as it starts a rolling boil. She was no fine cook, but porridge was easy.

And, she thought smugly, this was one domestic art that Sansa had known little about too.

When she opens the door, the sunshine streams down in front of her. Everything in the Stormlands it seemed, was forever green from the rain. She unstakes the oil cloths from the two small windows, letting the sunshine through the whole place.

She checks the large wooden tub to the right of the door, under the window. It was nearly full. Good. The little dwelling Renly had said they could make theirs was humble to be sure, stout and stone and only really a single room- though it did have a half wall separating their bed from the kitchen and table- and hardly any bigger than her own chambers back at Winterfell. Arya still loved it to bits. And it was surrounded by a multitude of useful things, that Renly had tried to apologize for as “junk”.

Like the tub and barrels that functioned wonderfully to collect rainwater so she didn’t have to haul herself down the hill to the well.

Arya strips halfway out the door, and grabbing the block of soap and a rag, climbs into the tub. The water was a bit chilly, but she could handle it. She was a northerner after all.

“Should I stand guard to make sure no one sneaks up on the fair maiden in the river?” Gendry asks her sardonically. Arya snorts and splashes him.

“Be my guest. Hell, bring your breakfast out here and sit if you must.”

He does that actually, dragging out a chair to sit beside the tub and eat his porridge.

Not that anyone could have snuck up on them. The house was on the very edge of the Storm’s End keep’s lands, outside the town and away from the castle. It seemed neglected to be true. The ground in front of the house sloped down rather sharply and was littered with broken wagon wheels, rusted tools and empty sacks half buried. And behind them was the edge of a damned cliff. Gendry had hung a bracket above their bed where Arya kept Needle shelved, and she felt this was a good arrangement.

Just another in the list of things Arya’s sister would have hated about her new life.

When Arya’s scrubbed off, she stands and shakes off before climbing out of the tub,

“You want a turn?”

Gendry shakes his head. “I come home dirtier than I am now. Plus, unlike you, I don’t think diving into ice water is a good way to start the day.”

Arya laughs at him. Southern born indeed, it was warmer here now than Winterfell often was even in the summer, despite the frequent storms. Arya dresses, and throws the thick black cloth she’d removed from their bed the first day, and throws it over the tub, to let the sun warm it.

She gets her porridge and sits beside Gendry in the front.

“What’s on your plate for today?” She asks.

He licks his spoon clean from his last bite.

“More horses probably. I’ve never shod so many horses in my life. “

The forge in town was quite large, as it had four smiths working there now and often took overflow projects from the castle blacksmith, but the town had no farrier.

“You’ll get something fun to make soon,” Arya promises him.

Gendry shrugs her concern off.

“Horses still put food on the table, and their owners are usually grateful.”

He stands to pull his boots on, and takes his pack.

“I’ll get a bowl in town for lunch. Please no more seagull for dinner.”

Arya rolls her eyes. To think he was the picky one. She hadn’t even known you could eat seagull before she’d snared one two nights before and roasted it. Sure, she wasn’t the greatest at making food tasty yet, but she could keep the two of them fed.

Gendry grabs her face and kisses her once, twice, before leaving. That leaves her with a silly grin. She watches him walk away. The towns and villages here are filled with fewer people, despite the fertility of the land. Gendry does better without the crowds, she thinks. He’s got some color to his cheeks now.

She does the breakfast dishes in a bucket she fills from one of the other rain barrels, all three of them. After she’s done, she ponders how to spend the rest of her day. She should sweep the floor, but that took all of five minutes for a place this size.

She could go down to the town. They already had flour and oats, and enough milk, cheese and eggs for a few days in the cool cellar. Mya had said she was setting off for the Red Mountains today, but maybe Arya could head to the shore and try and befriend some more of the wives in the fisherman’s cottages. They were often lonely with their husbands gone. One of them had told her she’d teach her to make a crab trap. It wasn’t good fishing season yet, but maybe she could net something for dinner out of the ocean. She should try the bread again, a slightly different mix of flour, salt and yeast, this time. The last time had been brittle, but she could get closer this time.

All the bulbs Maester Aaroc had given her she’d planted. The rusted shovel from back by the outhouse had turned the soft ground with ease, and she’d buried the potatoes, beets, yams and carrots, but none of them had sprouted as of yet.

She’d been so proud of it afterwards.

The blackberry vine creeping over the back of the house needed no maintenance. Aaroc had told her that as long as they liked blackberries, they would have them, as the vine was, as he put it, “practically a blight in terms of our ability to be rid of it”.

Maybe she would get lucky and some of the children from nearby would come to investigate again. So many of them had been intrigued by the holdfast’s new arrivals, some of them even moreso when they discovered Arya owned and could use a sword.

One of the fisherman’s daughters had told her that there was a Lady, an actual noble woman, in Renly’s rainbow guard. She told Arya this with a tone of longing in her voice that Arya had recognized deep down. And so she’d told her that if she could find her two sticks of fair heft, than she would teach any of them who wanted the basic forms and movements. The next day an even bigger group had shown up.

She had seen the Lady Brienne, with the rest of Renly’s guard, when he had come to greet them, and the envy that had swelled up in her throat had nearly been overwhelming. And the disparaging comments from some of the other men, even some ones who had been traveling with Edric and them, had enraged her. But Renly had treated her with casual respect, and so she quieted down.

Arya still wasn’t sure what she thought of Renly. The colors his guard, and himself too, wore struck her as a bit garish, and the man too, seemed to be all about show. But he’d greeted Gendry and Mya warmly, and had extended all courtesies while he had the maester and stewards get them settled.

Maester Aaroc had helped take them out of the courtyard, where the steward would show them to the house. He had expressed interest in Lyanna, as Storm’s End had only the more traditionally trained ravens. Arya had said she would go over with him how her and Luwin had trained her. But first, she had to ask,

“You’re supposed to be the wise one around here. Why do you think Renly wants all of his brother’s bastards in Storm’s End?”

The older man had laughed softly at her accusing tone.

“The young Lord is the youngest brother, and he is...unlikely to grow a family in the traditional manner...so I believe he wants all his options keep close to the chest.”

“And, what? He wants a bunch of spares handy so he can dump responsibility on them?”

The old man nods quietly, and Arya quietly fumes.

And since then, Renly hadn’t paid them any nevermind.

She toyed with Needle a bit, considering. Maybe she would train one of the Stormlands’ future knights, one of these days.

And then she giggles to herself. She’s never truly had the whole day in front of her for her choosing like this before.

Her decision ends up being made for her when she notices a small figure bounding up the side of the hill towards her.

As it gets closer, Arya realizes that the figure she had assumed was Dot (the knight watcher) or one of the other fisher children, was in fact Shireen Baratheon.

Arya had been surprised to be introduced to her, not having expected there to be any people younger than her in court. She had been fostered here, Renly spoke, since her father had become Hand of the King and her mother in Dragonstone fallen ill. Though marked by the reminder of the grayscale she’d been blighted by in early childhood, the girl’s boundless good will had endeared her to everyone. Mya had already promised to let her ride the mules when she returned to the keep, and she had already paid several visits to Arya and Gendry. The girl had no particular interest in swords or arrows, but she was eager to share her books and stories of great adventures with anyone who would listen.

“Shireen!” She calls out to her, “What’s the word today?”

Shireen reaches her, panting. She hands her a paper wrapped package. Arya unwraps it, revealing a flower cut to the root. Arya recognizes it as the herb the Maester had given her since she had explained that despite her marriage, she did not yet feel ready for children.

“Maester Aaroc says that should root easily in a jar in a window, and if you can’t get it to come back, just return to the castle and he can keep you in supply”.

“Thank you Shireen,” she tells the girl. “But why did you run up here just for that?”

Shireen shakes her head, and Arya finds herself more confused than before.

“There are two visitors here to see you”.

Arya sighs deeply outwardly, though inside she is pleased.

“Tall and handsome, and tall and head-in-the-clouds?”

Shireen nods.

Arya sighs again.

“You can bring them”.

Shireen takes off, and Arya rolls her eyes. There goes her day. She pulls out her and Gendry’s cups. She quickly brews her own tea cold and sucks it down, then fills two more cups with hot, and sits in the doorway waiting.

Dot shows up first, holding the wooden practice swords, looking excited. With blonde hair and blue eyes, she could grow up to be a great beauty, but she is the only of the children who has shown up every day since they’ve come here. Arya hates to disappoint her.

“Got guests coming today, Dot. You’ll have to practice by yourself. Do your forms like I taught you”

Dot looks at her disbelievingly, “You just got here, who’s already coming to see you?”

“Just my brothers.”

“We saw the horses at the gate of the castle earlier. They had the direwolf sigils on.”

Arya nods.

“So it’s true, you are a Lady.”

Arya laughs and glances around.

“Maybe, they might be coming to tell me I’m being disowned.”

Suddenly she remembers dinner. She steps inside the house, into the little bag holding the coins Gendry’s received for payment the last few weeks. It’s not a ton, but it’s enough. She fishes out a few coppers and gives them to Dot.

“Can you go down to the greengrocer and bring me back a few potatoes?”

Dot glances up and down at her.

“Will I at least get to meet them?”

“If you get back fast enough I’ll even let you spar with my younger brother.”

A smile erupts on Dot’s face and she takes off down the hill. Arya barely has long enough to find where she threw the bones from last night’s seagull and toss them into a pot to boil. She had nearly thrown them out before Gendry had told her that all good soup started with boiled bones. Who would have known?

By the time it’s on the coals, boiling, Shireen’s coming back up the hill with Robb and Bran. Though still dressed in their riding clothes, they both look somewhat worse for wear. The road has clearly taken a toll on them. They’ve both shed their cloaks, and look like their sweating in the ocean air. Arya admits head to toe leather and wool probably isn’t best for summer. When Arya makes eye contact with her, Shireen waves and skips off back towards the castle.

Arya sits in her chair in the doorway, expectantly. She wonders how she looks to them. She’s taken to not braiding her hair at home. She’s still in breeches that used to be Bran’s. A few days ago she’d traded her fur muff (realizing it wasn’t quite as necessary here) for a few men’s linen tunics, which she wore tied with a belt of rope. She’d sliced the arms off with Needle and her arms were beginning to brown. She is freshly bathed though, so that might be new.

“So am I being dragged back to Winterfell, or just disowned?” She doesn’t seriously believe either is a risk...well the latter has a small chance.

“Is that anyway to greet your brothers?” Robb replies. Arya ignores him. She hadn’t even called either of them stupid, so this greeting was a step up.

“So how long did it take for Sansa to crack?” Arya smirks.

“Most of a day,” Bran admits immediately. Arya raises an eyebrow. That’s actually better than she expected.

“Really shouldn’t count. We didn’t realize you were gone until dinner.”

That actually hurts a tiny bit, but Arya knows she kept strange hours and company, so not too much. She steps inside to grab the two mugs of tea to hand them. Bran takes the moment to peek inside the cottage, seemingly amazed.

“What’s been taking you two so long? We arrived here nearly a moon ago, and you only left a day and a half behind us.”

Robb cocks an eyebrow. Apparently they hadn’t been terribly well concealed.

“We got lost in the Neck” Bran admits.

Arya nods. That made sense. The rain had been so heavy then.

“How long did it take you to get back to the Kingsroad?”

“We didn’t,” That surprises her. It was the only known safe way through the swamps and bogs.

“We were found by the Lady of House Reed.” Robb explains, the tips of Bran’s ears and the back of his neck suddenly turning red. “They sheltered us until the rain started to let up, then she guided us out on one of the routes only the crannogmen know. We’re not even sure if the Kingsroad is safe again at all.”

“It should be,” Arya comments, “Renly said he sent scouts ahead, because there was a caravan of traders who needed past to start for the Vale.”

Robb’s glancing around the house. It really doesn’t look like much after having grown up in Winterfell.

“This is where he has you living?”

“I like it,” Arya insists. Robb doesn’t look quite like he believes her. Bran steps closer to her, looking over her neck, wrists, and waist.

“Well I don’t see any irons holding her,” he says wryly. “Nor does she sound like she’s bewitched. I think we can probably reassure Father and Mother.”

“I still want to talk to Gendry,” Robb says, his face turning harsh. Arya rolls her eyes and points.

“Forge is about five minutes down the hill and to the left, you can’t miss it. And if you pass a blonde child carrying potatoes, don’t scare her off- those potatoes are mine. And when you find Gendry, don’t do anything stupid, you’re both in public.”

When he’s out of sight, Arya and Bran sit down at the table near the fire.

“I don’t think he’ll do anything bad to him, “ Bran tells her, “When he read your letter he laughed. He’s just putting off that Father told us to check up on some things in King’s Landing.”

Arya wrinkles her nose. She still did wonder, after seeing Myrcella and Tommen leave. She had hoped it was really nothing.

“So how was it deep within the Neck?” She asks, changing the subject. The tips of Bran’s ears went red again.

“Somehow both beautiful and terrifying. The last night we camped alone I thought there were eyes staring at us through the forest. I’m still not quite sure if it was my imagination or Meera’s scouts keeping an eye on us.”

He calls her Meera, Arya notes. Eager to tease her younger brother, Arya interjects,

“Jealous of me being the first to wed and hoping to catch up? Father and Mother would probably approve of yours”

Bran turns even redder and starts stuttering. Arya decides to go easy on him.

“Is it true, the things they say about the crannogmen?”

Bran seems to be able to form full sentences now. “I saw no green teeth and no one breathing water. They are all rather short though, and Greywater Watch is really built on a floating island.”

He lets a long pause sit, as Arya imagines what he’s telling her.

“And frog isn’t bad, it sort of tastes like poultry. I saw nets and bronze knives, and shields made of leather. Meera carried one too, a lot of the women did. “

He nudges Arya’s shoulder.

“Maybe you should have been born in a swamp.”

She laughs. Sometimes she thinks about things like that, wonders if she would have been happier to be born somewhere else. But if she had, would she even still be the person she was?

“I was thinking,” Bran says, suddenly, “Before all of this happened, I actually thought about asking Mother and Father to send me to learn to be a Maester.”

Arya cocks an eyebrow at him, “Makes sense, you always were smart and liked all the old stories.”

“I do. But it was more than that. I just could never picture myself marrying.”

Arya laughs, full bellied.

“Bran, you know my entire life that I have made my feelings on the topic of marriage very clear. Things change, and sometimes you just have to go with it.”

She waits again before asking.

“Is she pretty?”

Bran smiles when he answers. He’s still very red, hasn’t in fact returned to his natural color yet.

“Sort of? She’s not pretty like a pretty woman. It’s more like- looking at her is like looking out the window on a sunny morning.”

Dear gods, he sounds like Sansa, is all Arya can think. Maybe she shouldn’t have left her alone with the rest of the family, she was going to rub off on them. Then again, maybe affection turns all men into poets. Gendry had once told her that looking at her made him feel like he was about to take a dive into very deep water.

Their conversation is interrupted by Dot galloping back up the hill, holding the potatoes in her apron.

Arya takes them from her.

“I met your other brother on the way up, he’s cute!” Dot babbles.

“Eyes to yourself, he’s twice your age.”

Arya gestures.

“This is Dot, her father’s a fishermen, and she’s on the journey to join me and Brienne of Tarth as part of the exclusive guild of women who wield swords.”

Dot practically shoves the practice swords at Bran, bouncing with excitement.

“Don’t go easy on her, I’ve been teaching her what Syrio taught me.”

While Dot and Bran go back and forth, Arya picks up Needle from its perch, and uses it to cut the potatoes. When she climbs down to the cellar to get the remaining milk and butter, she wonders what Jon would think of finding out what she was using his gift for.

The soup is hot and bubbly by the time Gendry and Robb appear at the bottom of the hill, apparently no worse for the wear. Bran and Dot have finally yielded, and are both breathing hard on the grass. Dot only managed to get a single hit off on Bran, but to her credit, she keeps getting back up.

Arya greets Gendry with “All parts still attached?”

“I think we’ve come to an understanding,” is how Robb puts it. Gendry only looks a little pale, so Arya doesn’t prod.

Gendry hands over his day’s earnings. A small chunk of cheese, a string of sausages and a small group of copper coins. She stows them. Arya is about to tell Dot to go on ahead home, when the girl lets out a huge squeal, and using the window as a stepping stone, climbs onto the cottages roof.

“There’s a ship coming! It might be my Papa’s!”

And she takes off without another word.

Arya picks up the practice swords from where they lay on the ground and places them by the window. Then she hoists herself up onto the roof.

She reaches a hand down to Bran,

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you pass up climbing something.”

The roof fits all four of them, though Gendry sticks to the edge, not a confident climber.

Arya shades her eyes. It does look like a fisherman’s ship.

“They say spring is one of the only times of year ships can safely port at Shipbreaker’s Bay, so they should be coming in for the next several weeks.”

“This is a really great view,” Robb admits.

“Renly said this building used to be as tall as the castle.” Arya muses, remembering back to what he’d told them that first day. “They used to light an oil fire in the top, to warn ships that there was shore, so they wouldn’t hit the rocks.”

“What happened to the rest of it,” Bran wants to know.

“Storm took it out. “ Gendry says. He had looked vaguely terrified to hear the tale. “A ship got pulled by the wind all the way over the shore and collided. Took out all but what’s left.”

“Not entirely true, they did cover up the hole in the roof”.

Robb looks suddenly uneasy. “Are they sure the rest of it’s safe?”

“That was near on forty years ago.” Arya says, “And ships don’t attempt to port here in bad weather anymore. Too many ships and lives lost.”

It is a wonderful view, even as the ship sails out of view, the late afternoon sun turns the water a million colors, all shifting and drifting with the nearly glassy sea.

Eventually Arya’s stomach growls, and she climbs down to pour the soup. They only have the two bowls, so her and Gendry eat theirs from the tea mugs. It’s not perfect, it needs something, bacon maybe, Arya thinks, trying to remember the potato soup the cooks at Winterfell had made when the winter was it’s coldest.

Bran and Robb eat theirs with trepidation. Arya rolls her eyes extra hard. She has to, she’s not going to be able to anymore.

“If I was going to poison you, I wouldn’t bother making it taste good.”

“Who says we’re assuming you meant to?” Robb japes.

She hits him with the back of the wooden spoon for that.

After they’ve finished the pot, Robb says they have to be getting on.

“Don’t the door hit you on the way out, and enjoy the rest of your night with the Lord of ugly capes,” is what Arya says, after hugging them both multiple times.

“And send me a raven if Mother and Father say yes,” she whispers to Bran.

She stands at the door, and watches as they walk down the hill. It’s nearly dark already.

She clears the dishes, and smothers the flames down to embers and Gendry takes his bath. Arya reaches in to touch the water, the cloth did it’s work, it’s very warm.

“Is there anyone else who might come and interrupt us again?” Gendry asks as he laces the breeches he wears in bed.

Arya’s laying back on top of the quilt in her shift, and she responds by grabbing his hand and pulling him atop her.

“Well if there is, they’re going to get an eyeful.”

Gendry grins, and presses a kiss to her throat, then lower. One of his hands pulls her shift up over her hips and lifts one of her thighs onto his shoulder.

Later, when they’re both sated and sweaty, Gendry asks,

“Is there anything you need to get done tomorrow?”

Arya shakes her head. Her face is pressed into the side of Gendry’s neck, one of her arms wrapped around her.

“We need milk and butter, but that’s easy. And if that was her father’s ship, Dot won’t show up. Why?”

“I want you to come to the forge with me.”

That gets Arya’s attention. She props herself up on one elbow to look at him.

“How come?”

“Renly takes his taxes in arrowheads. Liester was telling me it used to take up at least half of his time, just making them, no matter the rest of the orders he had to fill. We’re not at war now, so Renly doesn’t ask as many, but it’s still time consuming.”

Arya’s still confused, “So what did he do?”

“He taught his wife to make them. He says she’s as handy with a hammer as any boy.”

Arya’s now astonished. This is something that’s never even occurred to her. Women took up trades of course, but not highborns, and not usually young women. This isn’t something she would have ever even thought to imagine.

“Besides, it would be good for you to know how to do basic smithing, in case something ever happens to me.”

Arya reaches out and pins one of his wrists. “Don’t you go talking about dying. It’s spring now.”

“I won’t. I won’t die, just because you said so.”

Good, Arya thinks, settling her head back beside his.

She stares up at the ceiling. She imagines the stars beyond it, and wills Lyanna to fly faster.

She already has so much more to tell Sansa.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #gendrya #Arya and Sansa #fic

29 notes · View notes