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errantknightess · 6 years ago

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Such great heights

Pairing: Noctis/Prompto

Word count: 2,159

Summary: Two dorks get stuck on a Ferris wheel.

[Read on AO3]

Insomnia is a patchwork of black and gold below their feet. Spots of lights litter the ground, flickering in bright clusters like some unknown constellations. Usually it’s hard to see the actual stars with all the light pollution from the city, but from this high up, they’re kind of visible too – pale, but there.

That’s what Prompto tries to focus on, looking up instead of down at the dizzying distance back to earth. They’re not even at the top yet; the Ferris wheel spins so slowly that he can barely feel them move. But he knows it’s carrying them farther away with every second, and he really doesn’t need the reminder. So instead he sits back and stares at the purple sky through the transparent walls of the pod. They’re covered in tiny flecks and scratches, like an image from a badly tuned TV. There’s a thin crack in the plexiglass where it meets the metal frame, and another one right above his head.

“This thing has seen better days,” Prompto observes in a weak voice. “You think it will hold us?”

Noctis shrugs with the same unfazed face he always wears. It’s a good look on him, even in the dim ambient light of the cabin.

“Gladio wouldn’t have let me ride if it wasn’t safe. He’d been fussing about security issues for a week. No worries.”

The nonchalance with which he says it is a bit reassuring. Prompto lets himself relax, melting against the hard plastic bench.

“I’m surprised he didn’t insist on riding with you. As your Shield and all,” he muses.

“Not like he could shield me from much up here,” Noctis snorts. “Imagine swinging his sword in this tiny thing.”

“Right.” Prompto glances up over his shoulder, where he can almost see the car that Ignis and Gladio took. “I hope they’re okay. I mean, Ignis kind of had to fold in half to get in and Gladio’s twice the size of a normal person. That can’t be comfortable.”

“They wanted to ride together anyway,” Noctis says. “They’ll be fine. But yeah, it sure looked bigger from the outside.” He pokes the opposite wall with the toe of his boot; he can’t even stretch his leg all the way. “Sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind,” Prompto says quickly. Noct’s arm brushes against his, skin still chilly from the night air outside.

“That’s good.” Noctis gives him a wry smile. “Cause we’re stuck here for one more spin after this.”

In fact, Prompto does mind a little. Being cramped so close next to Noct never bothers him – but being cramped in a small, flimsy box a hundred meters off the ground? Yeah, that’s a problem. There’s no way to solve it now, though, so Prompto does what he does best and tries to shove it deep down with the rest of his problems. They’re almost halfway through, anyway. He can make it. As long as he doesn’t look down.

He takes a deep breath, clenches his fists and stares ahead, where the sea of lights spills over the horizon.

“This city’s so big,” Noctis says quietly. He sounds a bit scared, too, but in a whole different way. Like he’s overwhelmed to realize how much he’ll be responsible for one day.

“Yeah.” Prompto nudges him with his knee. His leg keeps bouncing nervously. “We don’t really think about it every day, huh? It’s easy to forget. Even though it takes me over an hour just to get back home from school.”

Noctis cranes his neck, the tip of his nose just shy of touching the glass. “Can you see your house from here?”

“Nope, it’s way too far from the center… I can see yours, though.” Prompto grins, pointing at the twin towers of the Citadel shooting up over the rest of the city.

“Smartass,” Noctis snorts. Then he leans over Prompto’s lap, screening his eyes with one hand. “Oh hey, my apartment building is down there, too.”

“This one?” Prompto’s hand wavers. He’s has been there dozens of times, knows the way with his eyes closed, but now all the familiar streets are just a bunch of shiny dotted lines. And he really doesn’t want to look at them for too long.

“There.” Noctis grabs his hand and pulls it over the glass, pointing the way. “See that big Ebony billboard? It’s just to the left.”

“Oh.” Prompto nods, staring at their linked hands. His palm feels sweaty in Noctis’s grip. His head starts to spin, even though he’s making an effort not to look down. Noctis is still leaning on him, and still doesn’t let go. Prompto wants to make light of it, scrambles for a joke, but he bites his tongue just in time.

And then he really bites his tongue. The car jolts, the metal bearings screech like a dying zu, and the lights outside stop getting away.

“Ow,” Noct groans from where he’s crumpled in a heap on top of him. He’s clutching his nose, like he’s face-planted into the window. Prompto grabs him by the shoulders and carefully helps him sit back up.

“You okay?” he asks, hands hovering uncertainly over Noct’s face.

“Yeah.” Noctis pulls his own hand away, and it looks like that’s true. He looks around with a frown. “We’ve stopped?”

“Seems like it,” Prompto says, trying and failing to keep his voice from cracking. “What do you think happened?”

Noctis pulls a face. “No idea. The lights are still on, though. Can’t be anything serious. They’re probably gonna turn it on again in a moment.”

Prompto almost believes him. Wants so badly to believe him. “But what if they don’t? What if we have to climb down on our own?”

“I could try warping us both if I have to,” Noctis says. “Better just wait, though. They must have some way to get people down safely if they can’t make it move.”

“Right,” Prompto mutters, more to himself. “That makes sense. Figures they can’t risk it. And they should play it extra safe, since they know you’re here.” He looks at Noct and watches his face fall between two blinks. Neither of them voices what they both must be thinking: what if that’s exactly the reason?

They sit listening to the silence, stock still save for the shiver rattling Prompto’s body. Noctis sure must feel it too for how close they’re pressed side by side, but if he does, he doesn’t say anything. Prompto starts counting the passing seconds, then stops as they turn into minutes: it’s just making him even more nervous.

But nothing happens. There are no shouts, no blaring sirens, no commotion in the brightly lit patch of the fairgrounds as he peeks down between his knees through that damn transparent floor. In a way, this weird calm is comforting. If something was going to happen, it would be happening already.

The pod sways slightly, and for a blessed half second Prompto thinks they’re starting to move again. But then it sways once more, harder, and it’s nothing like the smooth, steady climb from before.

“What’s going on?” He hates how high his voice sounds, even though that’s the last thing he should be worried about now. The car stills for a moment, then trembles again, in a short, uneven burst.

“It’s just the wind,” Noctis says, and now that Prompto listens for it, there is that faint familiar whistle underneath all the ominous rattling. Still, he pulls as far from the wall as he can, until his shoulder is buried under Noct’s armpit and Noct’s elbow might leave a permanent imprint between his ribs. He doesn’t care. And apparently Noctis doesn’t either, because when he shifts, it’s only to reach for Prompto’s arm and squeeze lightly.

“I didn’t know you were scared of heights,” he mutters. There’s no teasing bite to it. He sounds almost apologetic, as if he had anything to apologize for. Prompto lets out an awkward laugh, a near perfect imitation of the squeaking metal around them.

“I didn’t know either, dude. Never been high enough to find out.”

“Lucky you.” Noctis laughs too, and Prompto’s stomach backflips like it always does. “When I was a kid, I got stuck on the ceiling once.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it was dumb,” Noct says flatly; his fingers tap a broken rhythm on Prompto’s wrist. “There are those beams way up across the ceiling in the training hall… And I was finally just getting the hang of warping, and I thought it would be fun to walk on them. You know, like in video games?” He rolls his eyes, like he’s too embarrassed to meet Prompto’s. “So I warped. And it was pretty cool. But then I dropped my sword, and I couldn’t warp back anymore. And there was no other way down. So I sat there. For hours. Gladio was absolutely pissed when he found me. But then he made fun of me for weeks, so… yeah. Now you can too, I guess.”

Noctis looks up at last, and they stare at each other while Prompto fights to get the words through his throat. He doesn’t feel like laughing.

“Dude, that’s…” His mouth feels dry at the very thought. He leans back and the skin at the base of his spine crawls before he hits the bench, like for a blink it just wasn’t there and he was about to tip over into the void. “Yikes. Instant trauma.”

“I was trying to distract you.” Noctis looks at him sideways, scrunching up his nose to match Prompto’s own grimace. “Not helping, huh?”

“Nope.” Prompto cringes into him and clenches his fist into the leg of Noctis’s pants. Maybe if he holds onto something, his body will stop feeling like he’s seconds away from falling. He stares at his feet, trying to remind himself they’re still firmly planted on the floor, but it really does nothing when through that floor he can clearly see the matchbox buildings and pinhead figures all the way down, down, down…

“Hey.” Noct grabs him by the chin and pulls his head up, fixing him with a serious ice-blue gaze. “Don’t look at it. Look at me.”

So Prompto does. It makes his stomach drop the same way, even though the specks of light in Noct’s eyes are so much closer than the ones on the ground. But Noct’s fingers are holding him firm, warm on his skin, and he knows it’s fine. It’s fine. He won’t fall.

He breathes out slowly. The air swirls between them, hitting him hot in the face. Prompto blinks against it, but can’t bring himself to open his eyes again. The tips of Noct’s hair tickle his cheek. Another puff of breath melts on his lips, and then he tastes warmth and chapped skin and the cloying ghost of cotton candy that they both stuffed themselves with right before the ride. It’s even sweeter now. Prompto leans in to chase it, to drink in as much of it as he can. Noct’s mouth is soft and shy, pressing back lightly, just enough to make Prompto’s breath hitch. As far as distraction goes, this is much better.

His head is spinning. Everything starts to sway. Then Noctis yelps against his lips, and Prompto realizes it’s not just in his head. His eyes fly open as he loses his balance and tumbles backward. Noct’s forehead slams into his, so hard he sees white. By the time he blinks it away, he’s slumped against the wall of the pod; Noctis is braced on his elbow over him, and the city lights are slowly crawling away underneath them.

“That took quicker than I thought,” Noctis says. There’s no relief in his voice. It almost sounds disappointed.

He skims his fingers over the throbbing spot between Prompto’s eyebrows. It’s brief, barely there, but Prompto still feels his skin tingle even as Noct pulls away to give him space. Not that there’s a lot of space he can get. When he sits up, they’re face to face once again, and Noctis’s eyes are the bluest they’ve ever been.

Prompto smiles awkwardly – he knows it’s awkward, it has to be; his mouth is twitching and stretching and he can’t control it, no more than he can control his frantic heartbeat. The sinking feeling in his stomach is pulling him down like a lead weight. The gaping space down below is just waiting to swallow him.

So Prompto does the only thing that makes sense: closes his eyes and tucks that stupid smile against Noct’s lips.

It tickles when Noctis smiles back, filling him with a surprised laugh. His hand finds Prompto’s, brushing gently over his knuckles as he laces their fingers together. Holding him safely. He doesn’t let go for a moment while the wheel slowly dips to finish the first round.

When they start to soar again, Prompto is not afraid of falling anymore. He feels like flying.

#promptis #ffxv #fanfiction #I should be working on my minibang fic #but in the meantime here's this

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bluefurcape · 7 years ago

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Sakura and Kakashi - Part 2

Part 1 here!

For the “Locked In” prompt for Kakasaku Month 2018!!!!!!!! @thekakasakusquad @itslulu42

Phew, wasn’t really planning for it to be this long. I will be posting this on ao3 and ff after some light edits. Thanks for reading!

September was the month that she’d gotten divorced. One day, she’d woken up alone in the bed that she’d shared with her ex-husband and realized that seven years had gone by. She’d wondered then when she’d learned to just accept how things had become. The dinners with just her and Sarada. The parent-teacher conferences where the instructor sympathetically, if mistakenly, patted Sakura’s hand for being so brave as a single mother. The fact that not a closet in their home contained a single item of Sasuke’s clothing.

Maybe she could have handled it if Sasuke’s coldness had only extended to her, but she noticed Sarada watching Inojin with his father at the summer lantern festival with a sadness that broke her heart. Over and over again, Sarada bit her lower lip before shaking it off and putting on a brave face. She was just a child, born into this world with all of Sakura’s love. Sakura knew something had to change.

The divorce was messy, a process that she didn’t care to relive if she could help it. Some people that she thought were her friends turned on her, blamed her for her marriage falling apart. Ino was always there for her and for that she would be truly grateful. Naruto did his best, though on the most basic level, he didn’t understand why Sasuke just couldn’t get it together. At least he hadn’t tried the same kind of stunt he was pulling tonight with her and Sasuke. She shuddered to imagine what kind of permanent damage that would have done. Kakashi at least was willing to humor this. She imagined Sasuke would have renounced Konoha for good, if the situation had been forced on him.

Ino was the shoulder that Sakura had cried on, but Kakashi had been there for her in his own way. Take-out dinners picked up for her and Sarada. Training sessions here and there to help her daughter with a particularly tricky technique. A leak fixed in their ceiling after a particularly bad storm. Chance encounters that always made her feel like the world wasn’t so bad, reminding her that she still had people that she could trust.

The only exit to the room remained secured, the seal glaring back at her like a disembodied eyeball. She couldn't believe that she was still here. She took a piece of paper from the stack of notes left on the table, and after noting that it was regarding a meeting on nothing important (just Naruto’s doodles and a few ideas for Icha Icha fanfiction) she tore little pieces from it and crumpled them into balls. The repetitive action soothed her somewhat.

Eventually, she grew tired of sitting on the chair and, because it was preferable over the floor, she chose to stretch out on top of the table, staring up at the recessed lighting on the ceiling. The fatigue of the day caught up to her and she longed for her bed. She had never been much of a night owl by nature, but she had a suspicion that the same was not true for Kakashi. He remained as he was, engrossed in his book without a single complaint. Paired with the fact that he often would show up to training sessions scheduled to begin in the morning well into the afternoon, she surmised that he probably preferred being awake at night.

"This is so pointless," she said under her breath. To her surprise, Kakashi's gaze flickered up to her. She could almost believe that she had imagined breaking through his general shield of indifference. The silence had stretched this long, so she wondered why he reacted at all. Being forced into the same room together seemed like an ill thought through plan, a matter-of-fact strategy that was not surprising coming from Naruto. Despite the years since they’d both been taken off active duty, they were still both shinobi. They had endured worse interrogation techniques, though she was tempted to say that this was going to make the top ten. She supposed she should be touched that Naruto still retained more than a touch of the naivete of his youth. He believed in the best version of people, meaning that he failed to understand why people just couldn't get along. It must have been especially hard to swallow when it came to his old teammates. But sometimes that was just how it was. Teams grew apart, lost contact. It was a natural part of life.

"You should sleep. It'll make the time pass faster," Kakashi said. The statement didn’t count as a real conversation, though it would be the first time that he’d spoken more than two words at once to her in more than a year. It veered towards a command, the kind a superior officer would drop curtly. All business.

A part of her didn't want to give him the satisfaction of ordering her around, like he was still her captain, but she was tired. She refused to answer him, turning away and closing her eyes, aggressively trying to fall asleep. Even breathing. Clearing her mind. Counting by multiples of three. She used all of the tactics at her disposal to make herself fall unconscious, but success eluded her. Her brows knitted together.

The problem was that she realized she could feel his attention on her back.

“Quit staring,” she demanded. At the same time, her curiosity speculated wildly on the reason for his eyes being on her.

He coughed. The chair legs dragged as he shifted his position. She held her breath as she waited for his response, but there was none. Did he finally want to talk or was there something gross stuck to her back? She discreetly reached around and patted the area.

“Do you have an itch?” Kakashi asked.

Immediately, she retracted her hand. “No.”

“Naruto…sure is something. Isn’t he?”

“He’s an idiot.”

Kakashi sighed. “I didn’t realize that it had become this bad.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I regularly stop speaking to some of my oldest friends all the time. It’s a completely normal thing to do.”

“…Sorry.”

She sat up, incredulous. “Sorry? That’s it? Sorry? You ignored me for a year. What did—” She stopped herself, realizing that she was about to ask him what she had done wrong, because her default always went to a place where the fault lied with her.”Never mind, there’s no point.” She turned away again to lie on her side, showing her back to him. She cringed at herself, torn between feeling like a bitch and feeling weak. Neither made her consider herself a very good person.

She heard the pages of his book rustle as he closed them. He asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m not.” Screw it, if they weren’t friends anymore, at the very least she was going to get some kind of closure. She rolled to her back, her body hitting the table like a sack of potatoes with a thump. “Why did you stop talking to me?”

He blinked, the book in his hand halfway raised in hesitation, as if he was considering just hiding his face instead of responding. The muscles in his neck tightened as he swallowed. Finally, he sighed. “I was distracted by a few things.”

Her lips pressed together. She wanted to shoot back that she had seen him out and about, talking with Genma, doing stupid shit with Gai, even grabbing a bowl of ramen with Naruto. She didn’t want to admit just how closely she’d been paying attention, knowing that it would only make her appear needy and insecure. “You could have come to me if you needed help,” she said softly, deciding to ignore what she felt was a lie. Arguing about it would only end badly.

“I wouldn’t want to burden you like that.”

“That’s what friends do. They come to each other for help.” Perhaps they weren’t friends. Perhaps they never had been. Pity could have motivated him to help her back then. She ignored the aching emptiness the thought left in her. “I guess you didn’t see me like that.” He didn’t want to rely upon her.

“I couldn’t come to you for this,” he murmured.

“But we are friends,” she said, contradicting the voice of doubt in her head.

“Of course.”

She grabbed one of the small pieces of crumpled paper that she’d been piling on the table. She threw them at him, one by one. “Friends. Don’t. Do. What. You. Did.” It wasn’t cool. The unaffected, stoic asshole act had lost its appeal to her long ago.

He took the barrage of paper balls without changing his expression. Tiny pieces got stuck in his hair. She giggled, which broke into full on laughter, at his ridiculous appearance. The corners of his mouth tilted up.

“Good to see you finally cracking a smile after all this time,” she said.

“You were always able to make me smile.”

The revelation touched her, but her bright expression faltered. “Then tell me why you stopped talking to me.”

He closed his eyes. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

If not for the chakra dampening stone, Kakashi would have disappeared after his cryptic refusal. She was at a loss on how to draw out the conversation, so she let it drop.

She accepted that sleep was an impossibility for the night. Kakashi went back to reading his Icha Icha in isolation and she was bored. In her delirium formed from a combination of a lack of rest and her emotions, she put together a doll of Kakashi, made of a permanent marker that she’d scavenged out of on of the cabinets and taped on some paper hair cut to resemble his spiky silhouette. She made one of herself too out of a pink highlighter.

“My name is Kakashi, and I’m a big ol’ jerk,” she made the makeshift doll say in her terrible imitation of his voice. She glanced over at Kakashi, who flipped through the pages of Icha Icha in deep concentration. The small bit of conversation that they’d had cleared the largest elephant in the room, but not much had been resolved. He still hadn’t explained why he’d ignored her for so long. In fact, he made it clear just how reluctant he was to broach the subject. She continued in the little Kakashi’s voice, wanting to provoke a reaction, if anything, “Icha Icha is the worst. You know that it doesn’t matter if any of the characters die because they just come back to life later on! There’s no real stakes in the story.”

Kakashi’s brow rose.

She waved little Kakashi in the air dramatically. “The love story in Icha Icha Violence doesn’t have enough development. Am I supposed to believe that Yuki and Soichiro are hot for each other at first sight when they have nothing in common?”

Kakashi started drumming his fingers on the table.

“The villain’s motivation is so weak—so he’s just mad that Soichiro was rude to him? Is that a good enough reason to try and wreck everyone’s lives?” she made the Sakura doll say.

“You’re missing the point of Icha Icha completely,” Kakashi interrupted, an edge of irritation in his voice.

“Enlighten me.”

He leaned forward, on the verge of launching a tirade, before he stopped himself. He settled back into his seat, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

She wasn’t even worth the effort of a stupid argument about made up characters. She let the makeshift dolls fall, her shoulders shaking. “That’s how it always is, isn’t it? Do you know how hard it’s been for me to accept that this is how it’s going to be?” Things had been different right after the war. She couldn’t claim they had been bosom buddies, but there had been more to their relationship than this awkward, tense silence. Her divorce had been difficult. Sasuke had not taken it well, though in the end, he accepted that it was over. During those awful days, her random encounters with Kakashi had been some of the only times that she had been able to smile. He broke through the misery and guilt. She had always trusted him, but she came to learn exactly why. He was there for her in unexpected ways. Not to fix her. He was just…there

And at one point she had thought they were becoming…something more. “I missed you, Kakashi. Really missed you. You were part of my team.” To her horror, tears dripped down her face. Her voice cracked. “You locked me out.”

She hid her face, ashamed that she couldn’t stop crying. The floodgates were open and the truth was, she was never okay with losing Kakashi. She needed his odd, stabilizing presence in her life; the past year had shown her just how much she needed him.

She heard his chair scrape across the carpet and looked up. He moved quickly when he needed to and suddenly he was by the door, sizing it up, then rearing back and slamming his fist into it. Predictably, the seal remained whole, but he stood there, frozen.

“Kakashi?”

He hissed out a swear, falling to his knees and clutching his hand, his knuckles rapidly swelling to an ugly red that had a promise of a darker bruise as time went on. Sakura hurried to him, instinctively reaching for her chakra. Belatedly, she remembered she couldn’t heal as she needed to here. “You idiot, what have you done?” She clicked her tongue and gently cradled his hand. “Did my crying make you so uncomfortable that you actually tried punching your way out? You’re going to have to deal with a broken hand until we get out. Stupid.” She called him other variations of a person without low intelligence as she rummaged through the cabinets for some kind of emergency medical kit.

He watched her as she set the bones, wincing, but quiet. She managed to find painkillers and gave him a triple dosage to help him get through it until morning.

“I’m sorry that you’re always having to fix me up,” he murmured.

She looked up in surprise. “What’s wrong with that?” She smiled, wiping away the remnants of her tears. “You’re my friend. I don’t mind because I care about you.” She let her voice drop. “You mean a lot to me. I just wish you cared about me too, just a little bit.”

She felt his uninjured hand trace her jawline. “I do care, Sakura.”

“Then why?” Her eyes were filling again with tears. He knew exactly what she was asking him about.

He confessed everything.

Kakashi wanted to see her again.

One day, he woke up with that realization and felt his stomach drop. Sakura was a bright, kind woman, with a young child to care for. She had only just gotten through her divorce with a man that she had tried hard to love since she was a child. It must have been difficult giving that up in so many ways. He berated himself for being selfish.

But he never claimed to be a good man. He still found himself running errands around the time that he knew that she would be out and about. Or heading to the hospital during her shift for an injury he could have easily avoided during a bet with Gai. More frequently, he came up with flimsy excuses to cross paths with her. Just hearing her laugh made his day.

He didn’t dare hope that she felt the same way, though there were a few signs that even he picked up. There were the lingering glances. The non-verbal communications that passed between them as easily as if they could speak telepathically. The times when their hands brushed together and remained touching.

He could see a life with her, clear as day. Happy. That state almost seemed like a foreign concept, but he found himself daydreaming about it anyway. He couldn’t offer her much, just himself, and he had to admit that sounded like poor prospects. He didn’t exactly go courting frequently. And he was pretty sure that nobody called it ��courting.’ Even his thoughts were proving to him that he was an out-of-touch old man. But if she wanted him too…

He waited, gathering the courage to say something. Simply being by her side was enough. His day was good if she turned her smile on him. A little pathetic, he realized.

Kakashi had fallen hard and fast.

He was on his way to the bookstore to pick up a copy of a title that Sakura had recommended, when Sasuke’s voice from an alleyway stopped him in his tracks. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Good afternoon to you too, stranger.” Kakashi touched two fingers to his temple in a loose salute. After the divorce, Sasuke had cleared out of Konoha. Not that he had kept his residency here for long periods of time before, but he even cut contact with Naruto. Kakashi only knew that because Naruto included it on his drunken list of grievances against Sasuke. It was extensive, detailed, and repeating.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sasuke repeated more firmly, stepping out onto the street. He had lost weight. His cheekbones cut more sharply than Kakashi remembered.

“Going…to buy a book?”

Sasuke scowled. “You know what I mean—with Sakura. I come back and find out that you’ve been hanging around her like a puppy.”

“We run in to each sometimes.” Many times a week.

“You fixed a leaking ceiling in her house?” His glare grew pointed. “That better not have been a euphemism.” For a man who chose to be a wandering hermit, he was surprisingly up to date on the gossip.

“Is there a point to this? I have places to be.”

“The divorce only went through three months ago,” Sasuke pointed out.

“Oh, has it been that long?” Kakashi feigned, well aware of the timeline.

“You’re a vulture. The ink’s barely dried.”

“Sakura and I are friends, Sasuke.” Kakashi was a touch exasperated.

Sasuke continued as if he hadn’t spoken, voice lowered in bitterness, “We don’t deserve her.” That gave Kakashi pause, the subtly snarky responses that he’d been volleying back dying in his throat half-formed. “You know it. We’re more alike than I’d like to admit.”

That must have taken a lot for Sasuke to concede, given that he seemed to enjoy flaunting his own rarity through the ‘Last of the Uchiha’ status. (Seemed like he was a bad father, though, forgetting that Sarada was also an Uchiha.) A reluctant part of Kakashi agreed with Sasuke. Kakashi was not a superstitious man, but it did feel sometimes like a curse had followed both of them around for their lives. Misery affected the people that they loved the most. Sasuke had not been able to make Sakura happy and she had chased after him since she was a child. Was it arrogant to think that Kakashi could do any better?

“For her sake,” Sasuke said, “leave her be. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Forgive me if I don’t put a lot of stock in your judgment.” Kakashi drew himself up.

“Then what about this: did you know that there is a lengthy appeal process for divorce?” Sasuke tilted his head, regarding Kakashi coldly. “The statute of limitations is two years. The Council frowns upon divorce and gives every opportunity for couples to work it out.”

Kakashi blinked deliberately, not wanting to betray his thoughts as he put two and two together. “Is that a threat?”

“I gave Sakura what she wanted, but I will still protect her. She needs a different kind of man, not someone like us.”

Someone like us. The words echoed in Kakashi’s mind with growing intensity.

Sasuke stepped back into the shadows of the alley behind him with a stony expression. The red of his sharingan eyes glowed even in the dim light.

His message had been clear.

At the conclusion of his story, Kakashi said, “I couldn’t let him put you through the divorce again.” He looked down. “And I didn’t think I mattered enough if I disappeared.”

Oh, she was going to kill Sasuke.

Despite his injury, Sakura punched Kakashi in the shoulder as hard as she could. He yelped. “We’re idiots,” she whispered, then she pulled down his mask and kissed him.

The kiss was sweet, tinged with a year’s worth of longing. He had believed that he mattered so little to her that he could just leave. She wanted him to know how far away from the truth he was. Her lips on his were a promise and when she felt him respond, her heart soared.

She couldn’t help but laugh as a thought occurred to her. “So Sasuke told you not to date me, and you cut off all contact?” The ridiculous logic of it was not fitting with her.

He flushed as he sheepishly admitted, “It was a little extreme, but I couldn’t go halfway. I—” his gaze lowered to her mouth, “—couldn’t trust myself.”

She hummed to herself, leaning closer. “I’m still mad at you. You have a lot of making up to do.”

“I’ll try my best,” he breathed and kissed her again.

The door to the room swung open. From somewhere in the back of the group, Kiba groaned, “They’re not naked!”

“Gross,” Ino replied, shoving him.

“Are there any shrimp chips left?” Naruto peered at the discarded bags of various junk food.

Sakura sat up from the table that she and Kakashi had been sharing as comfortably as they could (not very). Her back ached, but not from any lewd acts, as much as she would have preferred that. She scowled, crossing her arms across her chest. “You assholes, I can’t believe you did this to us.” She sniffed. “We ate everything in the cabinets.”

“Everything!” Naruto shouted in outrage. “Even my limited edition fire ramen that I hid in the vent?”

“Especially the limited edition fire ramen,” Kakashi said.

Naruto’s face crumpled. Then, just as quickly, he brightened. “You two look like you’re getting along much better. I knew my plan would work.”

“Actually, we’re mortal enemies now.” Sakura shot a glance at Kakashi, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

“Huh?” Naruto looked to the older man for an explanation, but received none. “Mortal enemies?”

“She is my nemesis. Come on, we’ll let you buy us breakfast.” Kakashi hopped off the table.

Naruto remained behind, frowning as if he was doing highly complicated calculus in his brain. It wasn’t until he saw Kakashi take Sakura’s hand that he finally understood the joke.

He punched the air. “I’M A FLIPPING GENIUS.”

#kakasakumonth2018 #week3day5 #kakasaku #my writing #sakura and kakashi

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diyunho · 8 years ago

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The Joker x Reader -“ELLIS”

Nothing is ever easy with him, but this time he really crossed the line. If The Joker doesn’t care about anything at all, what is the point of you two being together? Unless…maybe he gives a damn about at least one thing.

You always drive back to Gotham on lonely, deserted roads, trying to avoid traffic as much as possible.

“J, we’re close to our cabin, we should stop and spend the night; just me and you, yes?” you smile, attempting to be cheerful and lightening up the mood.

“I don’t feel like it!” he bitterly replies, keeping his eyes on the road.

“We’re almost at the turn we have to take to get there. Come on… please?”

“NO! I told you I don’t feel like it!” he snarls, clenching his fingers on the steering wheel. You place your hand on his thigh, caressing it with your thumb:

“Baby, it’s not my fault the meeting didn’t go well.”

He pushes your hand away, still fuming. You look outside the window and take a deep breath, watching the sun going down behind the trees.

“J, come on, don’t be like this…You know I love you,” you tilt your head towards him, hoping he will change his mind.

“Right!!” he scoffs with a sour expression on his face.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask, getting restless.

“It means whatever you want it to mean!” the Joker snaps, quickly glancing your way.“You don’t love me, nobody does!” he hisses, being in such a foul mood he can barely concentrate on driving.

“Yeah…I wonder why…” you mutter but he heard you and it makes him even more enraged. You start massaging your temples; you really don’t need this after all the stuff that happened lately.

“J…why did we get married?” you ask, closing your eyes, thinking how much you wish your lives were different.

“Because we’re idiots, Y/N, that’s why!” he angrily raises his voice, accelerating. “Thank God you had the miscarriage three months ago because the kid would have probably had your attitude. I don’t think I could handle two of you!”

He hears you sniffle and your voice breaks down when you address him:

“Why…why do you say such cruel things?” and you start sobbing, deeply hurt by his words. “Stop the car…” you manage to speak through tears. “Stop the car!!!!” you suddenly hit the window with your first and he slams the breaks, unnerved.

You get out fast, taking your wedding ring off and tossing it in his lap:

“Here, consider yourself divorced!” you slam the door, frantically wiping your tears. He just grunts, annoyed and screams back at you: “Fine! I don’t need you anyway!”

“I don’t need you either!” you yell, whimpering, feeling so miserable you can’t wait for him to go away.

“I hope you die in these woods!” The Joker growls, taking off in a frenzy, aggravated.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction!” you shout, crossing your arms on your tummy, watching him disappear in the distance. You turn around and start walking back towards the hidden unpaved, unmarked road that leads to your cabin. It should be about 10-15 minutes away by foot. You recently passed the spot by car so it shouldn’t be too far. Add about 2 more hours of walking until you reach the destination and you should be there before it gets really dark.

You walk rather slow, deep in thought; being outdoors does make you feel a little bit better. It takes you more than 2 hours, but you are finally at the hideout. You go inside and turn the lights on, looking through your supplies to see what you could munch on. You decide to make a tea and wrap yourself in a blanket, then head out to the porch so you can enjoy the silence you crave so badly.

You have your little backpack with you and search inside until you find the ultrasound picture you kept from when it was confirmed you were pregnant. Your eyes get teary again and you kiss the small image, talking to yourself: “He only wishes you would have been like me…” you sadly smile and your grieving is interrupted by the sound of tires approaching.

Oh, no, what is he doing here? you panic, covering your head with the hoodie in a failed effort to calm down.

He gets out of the car and slams the door as hard as he can, staring you down.

“W-what are you doing here?” you inquire, shriveling down under your fluffy cover. J walks the stairs up to the porch, barking your way:

“I wanted to see if you died on your way here this way I can bury you. It would have given me great pleasure.”

“I’m not sorry to disappoint,” you sneer, still holding the little picture to your chest.

“What’s that?” The Joker points towards it, even if he already has an idea.

“Nothing you care about…”, you chew on your words, making an extra effort to keep your composure as you return your treasure to the backpack.

He takes a seat on the bench that’s the furthest from you, legs up on the railing, trying to light up a cigarette when you unexpectedly rush to yank it out of his hand and toss it to the ground, stepping on it:

“You quit two years ago!”

“Give it a rest before you make me mad!” J growls, taking out the full pack of cigarettes but you snatch it from him, breaking and tearing it to pieces, frustrated about everything and taking it on his nasty habit.

He takes a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper and warns you:

“Stop your shit, Y/N, you’re pissing me off!”

You don’t even care and continue:

“Go back to Gotham, I want to be alone! I don’t want you here, go away!” you shriek through your clenched teeth, heading back inside, trying not to cry.

“I don’t care about what you want; this is my hideout too!” you hear him grumble and don’t care for the rest since you step inside the bathroom, closing the door. You are so ready for a shower and a bit of sleep to calm down the tension you feel in every muscle of your body.

15 minutes into it and J parts the curtain to the side, making you jump since you didn’t hear him sneak in.

“Make room, I want to take a shower too,” he commands, getting inside.

“Go take a shower in the other bathroom!” you plead, irritated he’s so inconsiderate.

“I like this one better!” he kind of shoves you to the side, getting under the warm water.

“Fine, you can have it!” you give up, grabbing your towel and step outside when he tries to snatch you.

“Where are you going? I wanna wash your hair!” he angrily yells after you, unhappy you’re defiant…again.

“I already washed it myself!” you slam the door and J continues his tirade, tossing shampoo and body wash bottles around the bathtub in his tantrum.

I just need some peace and quiet, why can’t I have that? you think while resting your back against the door for a few seconds, sensing your anxiety is going to reach new levels soon.

The Joker took his time in there but now he’s finally done. He searches for you inside the cabin but you are not there. He peeks out of the window and notices you are dozing off on the couch to the left side of the porch, covered in blankets. Perfect time to rant some more, you are definitely going to hear about how much you annoyed him today!

But when he sees you are in a deep sleep, something stops him. The corner of the ultrasound picture sticks out a bit from under your pillow and he slowly pulls it out, glaring at it for a few good minutes before putting it back with a remorseful sigh. He takes a deep breath and grabs more blankets from the pile on the table and covers you with them, keeping just one for himself. J also brings the gun from the car and seats on the chair next to yours, awake all night because he believes a wild animal might creep up on you.

When the first rays of sunshine pierce through the thick fog, he finally loses the battle and closes his eyes, exhausted. He wakes up three hours later, wrapped in a dozen blankets, not feeling the cold he braved last night anymore; it gets so chilly in these woods after sunset.

He finds breakfast and hot coffee inside but you are gone again. Probably hiking at your favorite spot, J assumes, munching on a few goodies from his plate. You’ve been away for a while and he decides to search for you, he doesn’t even know why. You aren’t too far, just about a mile away behind the cabin, legs crossed in the grass, reading a magazine under your umbrella and enjoying the warm temperature. You hear him approach and you don’t lift your eyes up. He doesn’t say a word and just imitates your position a few steps away from you.

“What are you doing?” you coldly question him, not thrilled of his presence.

“Nothing,” The Joker barely bothers to answer.

You exhale, turning the page and fighting not to pay attention to his nonsense:

“You can’t stay in the sun, you know you burn easily,” you grunt, indirectly inviting him to get lost.

“So? Why do you care? Mind your own business!” and he lets himself go on his back, enjoying the hot sun.

“You’ll burn badly, go in the shadow,” J distinguishes your low voice urging him to move.

He ignores your warning and after a few more moments he opens his eyes to see your umbrella by his head, shielding half of his body from the sun and you walking away.

She’s so obnoxious, I really hate her, is the last thought he has before closing his eyes again and falling asleep shortly after since he’s so tired.

************

You are nowhere to be found. The Joker searched the cabin and around it but you vanished.

Good, maybe she fell from a cliff and my problems are done, he maliciously grins, relieved and hoping for his wish to come true, but after a few seconds the evil smile freezes on his lips as he notices your backpack is gone. And the small post-it on the fridge he didn’t see before makes him cringe:

“I’m going back to Gotham.”

Crazy woman, walking alone in the woods, J growls, taking the car keys out of his pocket and heading outside.

*************

You discern the sound of the engine getting closer and closer and quicken your pace, not understanding why you can’t have a moment to yourself when you are very entitled to it. He passes you by and turns the car sideways, slamming on the breaks, gets out of the car and awaits your arrival, his blue eyes so dark it would make you hesitate on your decision.

Yet you avoid looking at him and attempt to go around when he rolls his eyes, fed up with your behavior and stomps towards you, lifting you up and slamming you on the hood, making you seat there against your will while you struggle to get down. J is blocking your way, not budging when you struggle to escape.

“Where are you going, hm? Are you really trying to get on my nerves?” he pins your hands behind your back, watching tears of frustrations forming in your eyes but you are too strong to let him win and swallow your vexation, finally looking at him.

“I’m walking back to Gotham,” you mutter, defying his blue gaze.

“It’s a long walk, Doll,” he pushes you up on the hood even more, making sure you can’t move.

“Why do you care? You don’t care about anything, not even…about…” and you can’t control yourself anymore and start sobbing, thinking about the mean things he said to you yesterday that hurt you so much. J knows exactly what you are referring to and sucks on his cheeks, gulping, finally speaking up on the subject:

“I did care about that…”

You shake your head in denial, whimpering, dismissing his words so he repeats:

“I did care about that.”

“N-no you d-didn’t,” you cry harder and The Joker sets your hands free, backing out just a bit so you can slide down towards him.

“I did, I cared about that,” he insists, rolling up the sleeve on his left arm to point out the huge “ELLIS” tattoo on his forearm. “Why do you think I got the name on my skin and didn’t remove it? I will always keep it, do you hear me? I did care…” his voice breaks a bit and wipes your tears, lifting your chin up, forcing you to look at him again.

Ellis is the name you two picked for the baby when you found out you were pregnant, fit for a boy or a girl. You were so excited and over the moon you didn’t have patience to wait any longer. But it wasn’t meant to be…

Since you can’t stop crying and he grows impatient, J yanks you in his arms, hugging you while you want to push him away.

“I did care…” he continues to whisper in your ear over and over again until he feels your body relaxing and your arms go around his waist, hugging him back really tight. Since you still won’t stop crying, he caresses your hair, tightening his grip on you too. He senses tears menacing to roll down his cheeks but he brushes the awkward feeling away, because it’s not like him to show any weakness. Instead, he chooses to be The Joker and he has to admit to himself it really takes a lot of effort this time around:

“…Say, Princess, are we still divorced?”

“U-hum,” you manage to squeal, sobbing on his chest.

“That’s too bad, I was hoping to get some tonight,” and he kind of sadly smiles when you pinch his side.” Since I’m here and you’re here, can we at least have an affair?”

“Stop your stupid jokes,” you scold him, sniffling. He kisses your temple and helps you down, regaining his posture, but still holds your hand.

He seems surprised when you push yourself against his body and make him pay attention to what you have to say:

“You can lash out at me, but…” and your voice shakes ”…you can’t say anything mean about our poor baby, do you hear me?” There is so much pain and grief in your voice that he has no choice but to nod yes.

“Don’t ever say anything mean about Ellis… promise?” and you cup his face, waiting for the answer.

“I promise,” he agrees so fast he shocks himself.

“Good then, now you are allowed to drive me back to Gotham,” you announce and take your backpack off, going around the car to get in on the passenger’s side. “Did you lock the cabin?”

“I did,” J reports and can’t help bickering as he starts to drive away:

“Allowed to drive you back, Pumpkin?! Like it’s what, a privilege??!!”

“Damn right it is!” you raise your voice and look out the window, ignoring the outburst.

“Pffttt, lucky me…” he grumbles but takes your hand and kisses it. You don’t object and scoot over towards him, silently leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, Kitten, are we still divorced? Or do you want your ring back? I have it in my jacket.”

“I guess you’re allowed to give it back to me when we get home,” you decide with an indifferent tone.

“Allowed to give it back??! Like it’s what, a privilege??!” he mocks, taking the turn towards the main road.

“Damn right it is!” you elbow him and he frowns, aggravated:

“Pffttt, lucky me…”

“You are lucky!” you cut him off, lifting your eyebrows with an attitude.

“Maybe just a little bit…” he admits and it makes you smirk, clenching to his arm even more.