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screampied · 1 month

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𝜗𝜚 SWEETEST (CREAM)PIE ?!

☆ sum. you let him finish inside for the first time and he's never been the same since. toji, nanami, choso, gojo, sukuna.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, major breēding kinks, size kink, talks of pregnancy, praise, manhandling, mating press, pròne bone, doggy, pússy drunk men, dirty talk, implied multiple rounds, overstim, choking, squırting, praise, spanks, spıt, biting, bòob fondling, cum... balls... lots of cum

☆ CHOSO KAMO.

“p- please,” he swallows, beads of sweat racing down both sides of his forehead. you’ve never seen him so needy before. breathy minuscule gasps leave from his lips after each succulent thrust from your hips. “oh fuuuck,” he whines, your maddened bouncing against him already causing his pretty raven eyes to roll way back into the depths of his head. thin sable tresses of hair stick to his skin like glue as he’s openly glancing at your perfect cunt swallowing him whole every single time. your grip was purely enticing—he clenches down on his jaw as his scarred open palms cling to your rickety waist. “baby, wanna cum inside. wanna give you a-all of me.”

with a sleazy lopsided grin, you lean in to kiss the right side of his mouth. coral pink lips of his twitch at your sudden contact before he moans. “do it choso,” you sweetly coo, continuing to rut your jostling hips against his. your warmth—he couldn’t ever in his right mind fathom how good you felt from the inside. choso fell in love the second he eased his eager cock into your gummy walls. your words were as smooth as silk. “ ‘s okay, baby. you can cum inside.”

“okay,” he whimpers, and as your hips continue to buck, he buries his face into the cute exposed crook of your neck. “ ‘m not gonna miss, promise.”

choso bites down on his lip as he’s continuing to plummet his full balls into raw.

his breath continues to hitch and his head tosses itself back in sweet rapture.

“fuck, fuck, ‘s gonna be so much,” he whines, slick bodies grinding against each other in pure rhythmic sync. he’s just as hot as you—sweltering with perspiring sweat. your drooling chasm continues to grip around him and he’s hungry for more. with the way choso’s black lashes flutter and his hooded eyes droop, you could tell he was visibly pussy drunk. his brows furrow in pleasure as he feels your hands swiftly wrap around his neck. “y- yeah, choke me baby. please, fuck me.”

your bouncing against him accelerates quicker as he’s chasing his incoming orgasm—it’s coming quick and he can barely prepare himself. the pointed tips of his ears burn with parching heat as your plush keen thighs ricochet onto his own, continuously slap slap slapping against his skin. “that’s it, ‘cho,” you whisper, your body swerving back and forth to match his crazed tempo. he’s sitting up, taking in the flawless view of you riding him. so pretty, he’s practically speechless. nothing leaves out from his lips except for sweet melodic whimpers and looping cries of your name. “good boy, jus’ let go for me. make a mess, ‘s okay, baby.”

choso’s heart continues to race at your obscene words and he leans into your touch once your hand cups his right cheek. “y- your good boy?” he mewls, already feeling the slight twinge of tightness engulf around his cock. it feels so good, he’s always been poor with eye contact but at this current moment—his eyes never left yours. this new feeling, he couldn’t describe it. it left a saccharine taste in his mouth and he wanted more.

“my good boy,” you press a wet kiss near his temple, and he’s almost drooling at the spongy texture of your pussy squeezing and hugging around him. he’s getting off to your praises every time—it fuels him. choso’s hands never leave from your jerking waist and he’s trembling right underneath you. “hold my hips, yeah, that’s it,” you coo against the soft shell of his ear. choso whimpers, trying to follow your lewd instructions. he’s awkwardly holding you upright, making you bounce quicker down on his dick before he’s biting into your neck. “baby, ‘s okay, give it t’me.”

“fuck,” he gasps, compressing his pink glossed lips. he feels the pang of tightness that wraps around him and he doesn’t want the feeling to ever shy away. choso’s whining was so loud, it’s like a ringtone that you wanted to constantly hear on repeat. his hands remain on your waist, guiding your movements before he’s getting more vicious. just a tad bit—he’s hearing the sloshing squelches yelp out from your pussy and a large full breath gets caught in his throat the moment he cums. “baby, babyyy.”

there’s a subtle popping in his ears once he finally feels it. the searing hot friction that glues against both sloppy mounds has his silently babbling out more whispers of your name. your broke him—he was an entire sloppy mess and the cute pussy drunken grin that slowly spreads against his lips prove that. you moan right with him, running your tangled fingers through his black loose locks. it was so intense—and as he’s finally cumming, his voice cutely cracks.

“hngh,” he squeezes his eyes shut, now filling you up with such mucilaginous masses of cum. it’s so much, so thick that it’s overwhelming a bit—even for him, and he leans in to kiss you. it’s a wet filthy kiss, he’s not as passionate as he usually is and this time, he’s more sloppy. as his tongue moves in tavern with yours, he’s still shamelessly dumping loads and loads into you, gifting you with such hot amounts of seed. “i- i love you,” he whimpers between kisses, strands of saliva colliding against yours. his heart’s thumping right out of his chest in hurriedly beats as he’s holding you, using his left hand to give your right asscheek a soft needy squeeze. “s- so much.”

“i love you—too,” you moan between unkempt kisses as parching ropes spurt deep into your womb. your thighs were sticky, and he’s panting before tenderly nibbling against your bottom lip. choso was so in love. once your pointer finger runs a straight line down his bare chiseled chest and you give him that look, he’s damn near ready to propose. you had him weak, and he only wanted to fill you up more again, and again. .

choso grows quiet as you both come to a halting pause. his strong beefy arms wrap around your torso and he’s holding you close, devastatingly breaking away from the kiss with a pout. “y- you milked me,” he whines, leaning down toward your neck to seep his teeth into your skin softly. he can’t help but suck against your collarbone, gingerly swirling his warm tongue near your flesh. so sweet, you’ve got him hooked and it’s only been a few minutes. “i wanna—i wanna do it again, baby.”

“of course you do,” you sweetly tease, feeling as full as you’ve ever been. choso came so much that it’s spewing all down your thighs. you’re weakly grinding against him before you cup his face one more time—planting a chaste kiss on his lips once more. “y’know, you could get me pregnant, choso.”

his eyes light up at your words, and a whine leaves his lips once he grabs your ass again. “pregnant,” he repeats in a low voice, his adam’s apple bobbing. “i- i wanna try gettin’ you pregnant now, baby,” and his eyes meet yours. the most feral look he’s ever gave you by far. you gulp, and choso leans into your ear, a hand reaching down toward your cunt to squeeze it. “teach me more. i- i wanna make you a pretty mommy, please.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“hah, don’t say nasty shit like that ‘n not expect ‘ta get pregnant afterwards, doll,” a gruff voice murmurs from behind you, and suddenly you find yourself flipped over on your back. landing with a soft oof, a big palm swats against your ass and his swollen cockhead slaps down against your sopping leaky slit. toji groans, narrowing his eyes at your wet cunt, flicking a tongue across the notorious scar that always lives down the right side of his lip. the bed strenuously shudders inward from the abrupt weight and he’s slowly easing himself inside. “god, thought about fillin’ this pretty pussy up since i first laid eyes on you.”

“do it then,” you grumble, moaning once his fat fingers drag further down your twitching folds. right at your exact words, he smacks your ass again without warning and you let off a cute yelp. “ngh,” you bite the inside of your cheek, preparing to take even more of hod thickset heavy inches.

toji was always big—you feel your mouth starting to shamefully water at how he’s easily stretching your cunt open. you’re so quiet that you hear yourself squelching and squeaking around him, ‘pop’ after ‘pop’ ringing through one ear and out the other. “quiet, babygirl. this slutty pussy should be the only thing who’s talkin’, not you.”

you moan at the familiar position you were in yet again—his favorite, doggystyle.

toji always made sure you had the most presentable arch for him, and he grunts the second his dick’s stretching you out from the inside. “atta fuckin’ girl, thereeee we go,” he feels you writhing, groaning at the gummy texture of your walls mightily gripping around him tight. toji gnaws on his lip once he sees your ass throwing back into him forward and he snickers once he catches you’re trying to secretly crawl away.

“hey,” he cocks his head, wrapping all five digits around your neck softly. at his grasp, he reels you right back into him and you moan once his cock’s resuming to deeply barrel itself inside until it can’t no more. “you wanted a good fillin’ so y’er gonna take it, not run,” and your cunt immediately pulsates from his lewd risqué words. “got me?”

“y- yes,” you whine, and you can’t help but gasp at the way your legs nearly give out just from his weighty size alone. you’ve taken him more times than you could count, but every time always felt like the first. your hands precariously grab onto the velvet-colored sheets before you bawl them up into your sweaty open palms. “fuuuck, jus hurry up toji. always take so fuckin’ long.”

“caaareful,” he warns you in a gruff voice, and he starts pounding right into you. you almost choke on the saliva that resides near the far back of your throat as his sharp hips pivot. there’s a sly undertone in his words as he speaks—and toji’s cock buries deeper into your soaked cunt until he’s really nice and snug. “you watch how ya speak ‘ta me. for all i care i could stop right now ‘n make you finish yourself off.”

a pout curls against your lips at his words, but his hips were just so mean and sloppy. you’re jerking back and forth against the stained sheets with his crushing weight endlessly hovering right over you. just a few more inches and he’d be literally crushing you for real, pounding into you much deeper than he already was.

“fuck,” you bite down on your jaw, and the bed starts to wail out in sweet agony. the constant creaks were getting hard to ignore, and callused hands of his continue to spank your ass every few seconds. “tojiiii, fuck right there . . please,” and he’s so deep that you feel his jutting dick pump in gummy areas that made your stomach churn. so good, all you could even think about was imagining his cum spilling all down your thighs and flooding your cunt full. “cum in—ow!”

he jibes once his rough bare hands snake between your slick thighs, gifting your slobbering stuffed pussy with a single mean smack of its own. you moan at his touch, and as you’re just profusely sopping wet, you grind your teeth against each other as his rowdy pace becomes even more ruthless. with toji—he could never keep his hands off of you, you’d have to pry them off. he’s touching and feeling you up everywhere, giving you slow yet deep thorough strokes every second.

scarred big hands grab near your tits, massaging the centers of his thumbs against your nipples as he’s now in prone bone. “yeah, that’s it,” he lets out a raspy whisper next to your ear. as he’s slowly swerving his hips into yours, his long tongue flicks against your lobe. “you don’t care about nothin’ dontcha, you jus want a fuckin’ baby, huh,” and he’s still got both hands attached to your breasts, moving his lips to pepper toward your neck. you moan from his hot touch, feeling your cunt eagerly gape up around him. so thick, the stretch always made your mouth water and knees buckle within you. “wanna be my pretty mama, all swollen ‘n pretty jus for me. you want that don’t ya?”

“y- yes,” you nod, his mushroom tip continuing to kiss near the goopy insides of your cunt. toji sinks his teeth into your neck, and he grunts once his rhythm starts to get relentless - he’s snapping into you deep and he’s hitting you raw. your tongue was all lolled out and you were very much dumb from his cock. completely dumbfounded—not a single thought went through your mind, and as he’s tempestuously pumping you full of heavy inches, his head tilts back once he finally cums.

viscous sweaty limbs glissade and rub off against each other as he slows completely down. toji groans loudly, and it’s a sexy guttural bellow that makes your cunt pathetically twitch. “oh fuck,” and as if on que, hot balmy ropes trickle right into you, shooting way into your sweet welcoming womb. toji’s pants grow heavy, and he feels your weak body shiver right underneath him. it’s cute. his big burly arms flex as he wraps each bicep around you whilst he’s still plugged in, giving you ribbons of seed that then starts to tear down each of your trembly thighs.

“ugh, fuckin’ messy girl,” he swallows, and your honeyed slick unapologetically pours right on him, making an even bigger mess. his hips movements were as slow as a snail—and now, he’s just holding you, still propped up from behind. toji groans hoarsely into your ear, hearing your squelching cunt moan out its own desperate pleas before he tantalizingly pulls out. “god, look at this shit.”

your breath grows shallow and shaky as he’s still pressed on top of you—sinking his weight against your own trembly body. the bed dips at the pounds of heavy weight and toji creeps a hand down between your unsteady thighs again, this time brushing a few plump fingers down your clit.

“mhm,” he huffs, a swollen fat thumb scooping up a few excess remnants of cum before bringing it toward his lips. once he spins you around so you could face him, you watch with dewy hooded eyes. you’re panting heavily before he shamelessly laps the mess up with his tongue. toji pops his thumb right into his mouth before pulling you into a sultry wet kiss just for you to taste it for yourself. with two echoing smacks of crashing lips, he pulls away, tenderly rabbing your chin.

with a smug, sleazy grin pulling against his lips, cold viridescent eyes bore into you and he pats your tummy. “you’re gonna be such a good mama for me, yeahhh you fuckin’ are.”

☆ NANAMI KENTO.

after you let nanami finish inside, it’s almost as if he’s a changed man. he fully submits to you, and once you let him finish inside, he quickly becomes addicted. he wants you to do it again, and again, and again—milk him for all that he’s worth, use him for your pleasure instead of his.

“use me,” he pleads in a gruff voice, his back hitting against the fat cushioned pillows made of cottony fluff. just a few seconds ago at the least, he just came inside and yet, he wants more. he wants to feel more of you, and as you return his lustful gaze, you’re met with the most kindest fawn eyes. nanami still had his work clothes on, barely. his tie was halfway tugged out and his slacks were halfway on. nanami’s tucked out collar had lip stain marks stained everywhere, all because of you. he clings onto your waist as you’re still stuffed with such amounts of cock before he repeats himself, his husky voice cracking and faltering from each sentence. “use me, sweetheart. i need it, need you.”

“say please,” you lean up against his ear, hot breath fanning up against the sensitive shell of his earlobe. nanami shivers, and the blond tresses that stick against his forehead tickle against your skin. you’re so close—you can smell his loud wooden cologne scent, you can even almost taste it. he always wears the brands you really like. nanami groans from your continuous teasing, feeling his own dumps of cum stir inside of you as your hips continue to jostle against him.

with a longing grunt, he sighs. “please, please use me,” and you feel his beefy arms wrap around your body. you teasingly trail a finger down his perfectly sculptured chest, toying with the loose fabric of his tie and watch as his lips squeeze up into a needy pout. your hips—he was never ever a match for them, for you.

nanami stares at your pretty thighs that merely stick together due to such amounts of glutinous candied ropes trying to ooze all out of your cunt. he grows sheepish, scratching down near the undercut of his hair. “m- my love, you’re . . bein’ quite the tease t’night, no?”

“i just like hearing you beg,” you sweetly coo, and his pecs abruptly clench. your pussy’s keeping him so warm that it’s almost not fair. nanami’s panting like a dog as his arms wraps around you. he’s so pretty like this, all defenseless and submissive—the pout that continues to spread across his lips was only the icing on the cake. once you move again, you’re barely even moving your hips and yet you’re still keeping his dribbling seed stuffed inside. it’s thick and creamy, a few droplets start to stream down the insides of your thighs and he can’t help but drag a finger against the tenacious stringy strings of hot perspiring cum. “fuck, you feel it too, ‘ken?”

nanami swallows, and he’s just speechless as he feels himself delicately pumping you full of all that he’s worth—its lewd enough to make his mouth, and his favorite part was to just grow quiet and listen to the harmonic sounds of your sloppy talkative cunt squelch out its final concluding sounds. so sweet, he holds you tight before burying his face right between your breasts, nodding weakly. “y- yes,” he mumbles, and his entire body was hot. all because of you, there’s a sweet lingering taste in his mouth and his eyes continue to grow hooded and low from your gripping sappy folds.

“ugh, sweetheart. ‘m gonna cum again jus from how good you feel,” he warns softly, his tongue gently lapping near your exposed nipples. you gasp, letting off a shivering moan yourself once his faint kitten licks swiftly turn into full blown sucks. he’s sucking on each of your tits tenderly, with care. “mmph,” his mouth was full, and strands of saliva drag out from his lips as he gives each mound its deserved uninvited attention. every few seconds, nanami’s brown eyes peer back up at you and that’s when you deuce to give his head a soft pat. “you drive me crazy, honey.”

“i know,” you whisper, your arms still thrown over his slump heavy shoulders. nanami’s face softens the more he looks at you and oh, he’s so in love.

a twist of a smile purses against his lips as he sees you leaning in. once he sits up again from your chest, nanami’s entire body feels weak the moment you entrap his quivering soft lips with a kiss yet again, taking his shallow breath away once more.

“ ‘s okay, relax,” you purr in a syrupy voice between wet needy kisses, your hips continuing to rut up against him again in soft juddering jerks. he groans in your mouth, scissoring your swollen insides with his flaccidly soft cock. fuck, he was so sensitive. his entire body felt as if it was on autopilot, and your teasing didn’t exactly help things. your pretty cunt’s got him caught and enticed in a trance that he never wanted to escape out of — and that’s when a whine leaves his lips once he realizes that he’s cumming again.

spurts of hot seed shoot into you raw and he pulls away from your lips to gasp for air, digging his stubby nails firmly into your hips. “fuck, fuck,” and even his swear words sounded so pretty. nanami prefers it like this so much—he prefers it without the stupid feeling of rubber getting in the way, he prefers to feel the real thing.

you feel his swollen heavy base sink down from underneath you as he’s pouring such thick viscid clumps inside of you. “fnhh, hold me,” he pleads, and he’s shivering. you raise a brow and he grumps before abruptly rephrasing his lewd sentence, adding on a single word. “. . please.”

“good boy,” you whisper, holding him tight. nanami’s a mess crumbling right within your hold and he gnaws on his lip at the feeling of himself flooding you full. with cute exaggerated deep breaths, he’s languidly dumping in yet another hot load of cum inside of you. buttery white strings tape and glue against the sides of your legs and he feels his heart pulse quicken at your sudden praises. “that’s it, let go f’ me. make a mess, baby. ‘s oka—”

“just marry me already,” he moans, cutting you off mid-sentence. his face flushed and he just couldn’t take it anymore. he needed you, and he was already whipped. nanami can barely comprehend the things he’s spewing out from his wet parted lips but he doesn’t care. his face goes to shove back into the valley of your chest before he speaks in a cute mumble.

“fuck, i need you to be my wife. w- wanna do this every day day with you. please marry me, please.”

☆ SATORU GOJO.

“but—but baby please,” he pouts, his bottom lip quivering as he stares at your cute twitching body writhing underneath him.

frosty blue eyes rover down toward your stomach and it’s so cute—so swollen and plump. he’s been filling you up for hours, though of course for satoru, those hours only felt like minutes. his stamina was always equivalent to a horse. when it comes to satoru gojo, he fucks you mean and good at the same time until you’re just a babbling mess with his cum dribbling down your thighs.

like you are now,

he’s got you in nothing more but mating press and his weight’s nearly crushing you. satoru’s hovering over you and he leans in to tenderly suck near your exposed collarbone. “more, ‘m not done. my angel’s tummy isn’t plump enough yet.”

“ ‘toru, you always do this,” you moan, shaky flimsy arms wrapping around his broad pent up shoulders. he returns your gaze, and as the two of you lock eye contact, he’s nothing but feral. satoru’s heavily panting, bottomed out entirely inside of your pretty pussy as you’re trapping him with your sopping wet warmth. you’ve lost track of how many rounds it’s been, all you knew was that you were just as much of a mess as he was. satoru leans in for a kiss and you merrily return it, gasping once he starts to hump on you. he can’t help it, and his big broad hands sneak toward your bouncy tits, grabbing them softly. “ngh, ‘m full ‘toru, fuck.”

“but i wan’ you to get fuller,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and snowy white strands of hair occlude his eye sight from the constant unsteady movements. he’s so pretty, even more pretty up close. satoru’s thrusts become sloppy within seconds, and his fat cock’s emitting out even more slimy ropes of cum.

he grunts, burying his face into your neck as your sappy folds drip with racy filth of its own. so good, you can hear his choking whimpers continue to coo out from the back of his throat as his washboard abs press right up against your chest. “ugh, good girl. take it all f’me, you always take it so good everytime, fuck,” his brows curl up due to the overwhelming feeling of inevitable euphoria. satoru licks a stripe near your neck as he’s still rocking his hips into you slowly, and he grunts. “good girl, make me a daddy. ‘m gonna give you all my kids, promise.”

as he scrupulously pivots his hips further into you, his tremulous pants become more and more raspy. that little subtle detail about the changing patterns of his heavy breathing was attractive. his cock freely rummages through your greedy walls and satoru bites down on his lip, hard.

he was practically bending you, stretching you out as if your limbs were nothing but elastic. “s- satoruuu,” you babble as your cunt continues to clamp on and around him. so sloppy, your own sappy slick juices create a lewd concoction of filth as both bodies continue to move and pulverize against each other. the sharp collision of his hips that repeatedly slams into you leaves you speechless and entirely dumbfounded. he’s so rough, yet his hands were always gentle and tender. satoru loved more than anything to treat your pretty jerking body underneath him like a rag doll. “fuck, slow down ‘m gonna cu— oh!”

his bumpy crownhead vigorously kisses up against your sweetest spot thrice, and that’s when you feel finally yourself letting go. his hips punctuate within each jagged thrust and you don’t even realize that you’re gushing right down his cock. it was a feeling unlike any other.

“mhm,” he raises a brow, feeling a sudden spurt splash against him. satoru’s breathing gets irregular again as the bed resumes to creak until it’s just crying out desperate pathetic mewls. with skin continuing to stick against skin, you two were practically glued to each other. satoru’s throat grows dry once he registers that you just squirted on him, and he’s got the most smug expression. “oh,” he hums, slowly raising up one of your legs. with droopy eyes and a lazily hung open mouth, you watch as he playfully licks your ankle. “my baby jus squirted on me ‘n she didn’t even ask, how rude.”

“s- satoru,” you stammer out his name again, and you’re so feebly dumb from his cock that those same three vowels continue to slither from your lips again and again and again until you sound like a broken record. your body shook underneath him and he softly grabs your chin, still barreling his hefty cock deep inside. a shadowing flush of embarrassment overtakes you as you feel yourself staining the sheets with a grey forming tint. instinctively, your hands go up to cover your face and satoru snickers.

“nuh uh don’t do that,” he sweetly purrs, grabbing your wrists and planting a kiss near the center of your forehead. once his lips ghost against your skin, you feel hot again and he flashes you a cheeky grin despite how he was sweating bullets. “such a pretty girl,” and you moan, feeling him slowly pull out. the slippery piles of cum drool out from your saturated folds and you hear the ‘popping’ squelches slosh. satoru kisses the back of your hand, and he aligns himself once more, leaning up close to your ear.

“but baby, you’d be an even prettier mommy.“

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“stupid woman,” the demon snarls, slumping back against his royal throne with you straddling him.

all various crimson eyes of his maliciously bore into you as you’re grinding your hips against him, bucking sloppily into his very being. one of his arms wrap around your waist before he tilts your chin up to face him directly. you’re met with the eyes of the notorious sukuna ryomen, and a thumb rubs against your bottom lip before he scoffs. “tsk. is that what you truly desire? to be stuffed by me until your weak cunt’s all flooded with my cum?”

“y- yes,” you say in a whiny tone, hauling your flimsy arms over his broad shoulders. sukuna’s body was very big, and his frame was even bigger. you had some amounts of mercy since he was sitting down—but if he was standing up, you’d have an another force to be reckoned with.

his warmth frequently envelops your pasty walls as you continue to move in careless sync with his sharply structured hips. but fuck, every time your ass jostled into him, you felt his second cock that’s stacked from behind brush up against your swollen cunt. those brief feelings of gripping friction always makes your thighs shiver and send a school of butterflies to assault inside the pits of your stomach. you moan, secretly wishing you were taking both of him instead of just one. “finish inside, ‘kuna. please, i need it.”

he jeers at your plea, holding you in place as your body continues to grind straight into him—sweet wanton whines slip past your glossed lips as his bulbous tip continues to thrust into you in and out. “what you need is some manners, girl,” he playfully flicks your forehead, and you let off a sweet pouty whimper.

“uh huh,” and he lies further back against his regal throne, sitting upright with his left thigh bouncing to tease you even more. skin roughly slaps amongst each other in such a crude way that it makes all of the hairs near your neck stand up. every sound being made echos through his chambers and you’re just hoping that no one heard. the demon then grabs your chin again, pressing a chaste deep kiss onto your pretty quivering lips. “fuck, ‘m gonna make you my queen. ya gonna give me dozens of demon brats, ‘s that what you want, princess?”

“mhm,” you nod, and he barely gives you a chance to reply with the way his crooked lips slam onto yours. sukuna tastes sweet, he always does.

a rich sugary flavor coats his forked tongue as your own delves straight into his mouth. your body blissfully saws against his in such insane sync that it makes you feel tingles everywhere.

sukuna smugly hums, feeling your cute curious human hands roam down the edges of his silky made kimono. “please,” you croak between sweet needy kisses, his cock repeatedly hammering up against that spot every single time. it was as if his cock was a dart and your swollen pulsating cunt was the target. after each striking sloppy thrust, he’s hitting bullseye every second. with the way he’s hitting you in all the right spots at the right exact time, it scratches a carnal itch in your brain that leaves you utterly stupid for a few seconds. “make me your queen, ‘kuna. breed me, make me f- full.”

by this point, he’s just using you as his own personal—favorite—fleshlight. two wide hands glue to your waist, sharp dark fingernails teasingly stroking against your skin as he’s bouncing you up and down his bulging massive shaft.

you moan, feeling his ruby red eyes stare at you menacingly the entire time, and you’re chasing each drawn out pant of your shallow irregular breaths. “c’mon then,” he snarls, baring a single serrated fang. the both of you were so so close to shooting blanks until it eventually comes. everything comes immediately like a wave. “take it, princess.”

within seconds, you’re creaming down his cock and he’s pumping you full of thick ribbony ropes.

your cunt throbs the second he spills an entire whopping load inside of you raw, and you nuzzle your face into his neck. “s- sukuna,” you stammer, and your walls were forevermore oh so greedy, adjusting to the way your pussy convulses around him. you both cum in torrent and a surge of electricity pulses through each of your veins. it’s a slight feeling of tweaking pangs that efflux through the undersides of your thighs before your entire body erupts with shakes. “fuck, ‘s much.”

“ ‘n ya better take every drop, s-shit,” he groans, suddenly getting quiet once he feels your jittery hips start to pick up its bouncing again. he’s still sensitive, and he hisses before slumping back against his throne, trying to keep up his stern somber façade.

sukuna’s entire body was dipped in sweat, and his pink slit brows arch together in euphoric agony.

silence is his next response, and he’s still holding you by the waist, an oozing dribbling knot plugging into you effortlessly. it’s so warm and sweltering hot, a temperature you couldn’t even describe as well as your pussy ever could. the very pit of you stomach coils in lewd awe as you’re met with his now flaccid cock just stilling inside of you.

“c-curses, fuck me,” the demon shrills, grabbing your hips and bringing you to a pausing halt.

and for a split second, you could have sworn you just heard him, the king of curses whimper. .

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courtingchaos · 1 year

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It’s Just a Question

A/N: Back on my bullshit. I’ve had some really hard times with my normal writing while also finding myself in some shitty circumstances. So this is how this came about. Just a lot of feelings. Technically plus sized reader but you can do whatever you want.

18+ NSFW No Minors

“Am I pretty?”

“What?” Eddie sprays toothpaste on the mirror, he’s so quick to ask.

“Am I pretty?” You scrunch your face up over and over, drawing your eyebrows down and crinkling your eyes. Purse your lips and frown deep and finally look over at him staring at you, toothbrush hanging from his mouth and arms braced on the countertop.

“Are you pretty?” He reiterates with a deep sigh. “Of course you are, you’re gorgeous. Especially right now when your hair matches mine and we look like two electrocuted cotton balls.” He’s not flippant but he’s definitely brushing you off.

You aren’t done though. “I’m serious, and I’m not asking if you think I’m pretty. Am I pretty like…Anne Hathaway.” You pull down on your cheek and watch it bounce back, albeit slower than it did when you were 20.

“Well…you don’t even look-no.” He stops quickly and spits in the sink and rinses his toothbrush, viciously shaking his head the whole time. “This is a trap and I refuse.” He says as he leaves you in the bathroom.

“Eddie it’s not a trap it’s an honest question!”

“This is like the worm thing and I’m not doing that again!” He yells over his shoulder before closing himself in the bedroom to get dressed for work. You sigh and turn to look at your tired reflection. Your perpetual eyebags answer your question for you, and your dusting of sun damage yells it louder from the mirror.

Not pretty, subliminally average.

Standing in line at the grocery store, Eddie slumped over the handle and picking at stray grapes, you ask again only this time with a visual aid.

“Okay, I mean like this.” You shove a copy of Rolling Stone under his nose, a new pop star gracing their cover in something sheer and tight. “I meant pretty like this.” You say quietly next to him. He chews on another free grape slowly, staring at the cover and tilting his head. He doesn’t move, just slides his eyes way over to give you the look.

“You’re prettier than her.”

“What about Juno Temple?” You quip back.

“She’s shorter than you. And British, doesn’t count.” He quips right back. You huff and shove the magazine back in its slot.

“You’re not understanding me.”

“No, I am. You’re just not listening to me.” He pushes the cart up a spot and continues his easy lean. “You’re pretty like…that.” He searches the newsstand by the register and points at a baking magazine, perfectly circled apple tart dusted with sugared cinnamon and you bark a loud laugh.

“A tart Edward?”

“Don’t twist my words. I said you’re pretty like that.” He smiles, pops another grape in his mouth and starts tossing things on the conveyer belt.

Pretty like a baked good.

He’s elbow deep in the shelf of succulents, looking for something called a ‘Black Rose’.

“I know it’s in here, there’s four dead ones up top.” He’s pushing little green teardrops to the side to find his prize, a loud ‘Ha!’ when he whips his hand out, holding the little plant by its little container.

“It’s so tiny.”

“Yeah and in like six months it might not be.” He gives you a cheesy smile and sets in the cart with your other potential house plant failures. Somehow he’s managed to keep a giant flat pot of succulents alive for almost a year and every time you go to the plant store, he adds another.

“Okay, what’s its name.”

You hum at him, tapping your finger along the cart when you get distracted. A willow of a woman walks in, hair shiny like water and flowing over her thin, petite shoulders. She looks like she’s on a mission, perfectly manicured hand pointing her in the right direction when she heads for a batch of bright zinnias. Her smile painted a bright coral like the plant she picks up and places in her cart, three more following and off she billows to the next aisle full of ivy. Eddie saw it the moment you stopped listening to him listing off names. The swivel of your head and then the tapping of your finger ceasing, knuckles going white around the cart handle. He watches you watch her and he knows the question is coming before you turn back around with that frown hewn into your forehead.

“Like this.” He holds up the small succulent, barely formed petals burnished a deep purple in the afternoon sun.

“What.”

“Pretty like this.”

“You don’t even-“ You scoff and cut yourself off, heavy eye roll directed at no one while you turn away and sulk by the snake plants.

He doesn’t tell you, but he names it after you.

The Big One happens during the summer. Chrissy is engaged, and her new belle and her decide to have a joint bachelorette party, everyone invited. You know Eddie’s people, all these random characters drawn together through something you don’t quite understand. You meet Chrissy fiancé and she’s just as bubbly and sweet as Chrissy herself. Eddie gives them your gift and drops a kiss on Chrissy’s cheek and it barely bothers you.

They’d dated just out of high school. 15 years ago and before Chrissy had realized why men just never hit the spot. She floats around her party and you hang around behind Eddie while he walks the two of you around in conversation. At some point you’d gone past your standard three (3) drinks and the mango seltzers are starting to make you a little resentful.

Thankfully you catch it, excuse yourself to the bathroom and give yourself a stern stare in the mirror.

It’s not your party.

They’re just friends.

It’s not about you.

…Is it ever?

There’s a reason you stop at 3 lately, that rolling black pit of self loathing feeds on bubbly things and it’s feeding on a blonde tonight.

So when you come back you sit at a table by yourself. You tuck your hands under your thighs and admonish yourself for how wide they are. There’s a tug of war happening between your self pity and your self depreciation, a tear balancing on your lashes while you roll the wet eyes under them. Eddie finds you bent over your phone and all you can think about is how wide your shoulders must have looked from that far away.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I had to uh, go to the bathroom.” Your pause gives you away, just south of tipsy, and Eddie smiles, his big hand sliding under your chin to hold it between his fingers. A move that usually has you melting into his palm, but tonight?

You tug your head away and he frowns. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think I need to be here anymore.”

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m just fine. I’m gonna get an Uber home, you stay.” You stand up and hate the feel of your clothes on you. Your hair feels too heavy and the makeup you spent an hour on is suddenly sticky and tacky and wasted on you.

“No, we’ll leave together.” Eddie has concern all over his face. He tries to give you a hand when you obviously stumble and you slap it away.

The fight only starts when you start crying, unable to control your emotions anymore. You spend the whole ride home feeling sorry for yourself, saying the most inane shit Eddie’s ever heard.

“You can’t ask me to compare you to Chrissy. That’s not fair!” He laughs humorlessly when you ask him who’s prettier. “One, it was 15 years ago! Two, I’m not doing this anymore!” He yells and it shuts you up. He can hear the click of your jaw with how quick you stop yammering on drunkenly about your thighs.

“If you want to play that game, let’s look at your past relationships, huh?”

“What relationships Eddie?!” You scream back at him. There’s a part of his being that can feel the backslide into the terrible habit of yelling to get his point across. Picked up from his father and quelled at every turn, but today you drag it out of him.

“Oh don’t start with that shit again.”

“You mean all the guys that fucked me in the dark?! Or do you mean the ones that pretended not to know me in public?”

He gets to your apartment in record time, slamming the car in park and scrambling to hold your seatbelt buckled before you can run out.

“Let me out.” Your face is red from crying and from hatred and from loathing.

“No.” He says quieter but with finality. You stare at him, waiting for him to move his hand but he won’t, keeps his fingers locked around yours.

“You’re drunk, and you’ve been in a bad mood lately.” He knows he knows he knows that was the wrong thing to say. It spilled out of his mouth before he could throw the net out for those errant words and you give him the meanest smile he’s ever seen on your face.

“A bad mood?” You nod your head like you’re agreeing but he’s bracing for impact. “A bad mood. Tell you what, when I have a fucking roster of groupies and easy boys behind me, then we can talk about my bad mood.”

“You’re mad because of people I’ve slept with?”

“Look at me Eddie!” You scream and it breaks on his name, the sob you’d been swallowing for an hour finally surfacing. “I don’t fucking look like Chrissy and I sure as fuck don’t look like Steve! You still have that picture of that stand in drummer on your profile you fucked around with! Every single one of them is-fuck! Stunning!” You finally wrench the seatbelt out of his hand and free yourself. “I look like a fucking joke when you take me places. You think I don’t see people staring?” Another mirthless laugh before you kick the door open and wobble your way out. “Make someone else laugh, Eddie.”

He watches you stomp off inside and slap the button for the elevator. There’s enough time he could get out and follow you in and upstairs and finish the yelling match and maybe get you to see straight.

But he doesn’t. His grip tightens on the steering wheel so much it creaks. He feels on the verge of tears and when you disappear behind the closing doors he punches his door and drives home too fast.

The doorbell rings and Eddie answers it without thinking. You look small in your hoodie, your hair damp and braided over your shoulder. He’s so used to you standing tall with him, a sturdy pillar he can lean on instead of always having to be the support. To see your shoulders pulled in tight makes his chest ache.

“I’m sorry I haven’t answered your texts.” You say quietly.

“I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”

“God don’t-“ you wipe at your eyes and stare at your feet. “Don’t apologize to me. I shouldn’t have gone off the fucking handle like that.”

“Maybe, but you’re obviously feeling some kind of way that you aren’t telling me about.”

“It’s the normal shit, Eddie. I just let it get to me.”

He holds the door open wider and nods his head over to the couch. “You wanna tell me about it?”

You don’t, not really. It’s going to go the way it always does with you explaining a life long loathing and the few times you see daylight out of the pit it holds you in.

“I shouldn’t have started that pretty shit.” You shake your head and clutch the pillow tighter around your middle. Eddie sits on the other side of the couch, long legs tucked up under his chin and you wish you could fold in on yourself like that. There must be a twist to your mouth or a shift of your body because Eddie sighs deeply.

“You know you don’t have to ask me that.”

“I know, but that’s not what I was asking anyways.”

“What does it matter?”

You shoot him a puzzled look. “I mean, I just want-I’d like to know if-“ you start and stop and Eddie just waits until you stop floundering.

“If I think you’re pretty, what does the rest matter?”

“It just does.” Your bottom lip wobbles and you hide it behind your fist. Eddie catches it, of course, and crawls over to you, grabbing your quivering chin and making you look up.

“I can’t undo a lifetime of self loathing in one afternoon, but I can definitely help cut through that shit one compliment at a time.” He gives you a gentle kiss and feels the smattering of tears hit your face, his thumb coming up to wipe them away. He cradles your face till you bury it in his neck and quietly cry for a while.

You loose count of how many sorry’s you give him and he finally tells you enough with a smile. He gives you his phone and tells you to order dinner and he disappears for a few minutes in his room.

Later, after food and more talking and a quiet nap spent curled up against Eddie’s side he asks if he can take you to bed.

“Sure grampa.” He smiles at your humor, an improvement to the tears earlier. He gets you out of your Sad Clothes and you quickly get under the blankets. He wants to say something but he knows to start small.

Starts with the lights off and sheds his clothes before crawling under the blankets from the foot of the bed. It makes you laugh and wind your legs around him, a win in his book. He kisses up your legs leaving a wet trail from your ankles to your thighs before you feel your face growing hot the closer he gets to your center. When you think he might pull your underwear off he doesn’t, instead kissing up your soft stomach to your breast and it isn’t until his curls spill out from under the blanket that you can hear him murmuring against your skin. Chanting “beautiful beautiful beautiful” and laying down “I love you’s”. His nose runs along under your chin while he kisses up to your ear “so pretty so perfect”. He runs his hands up into your hair and hold you in place while he hovers, warm brown eyes staring lovingly into yours.

“You have no idea how lucky I am.”

“Eddie…”

“No, don’t start.” He kisses you long and slow and it makes you tear up in a good way. He notices them hanging in the corners of your eyes and kisses those away while you laugh at him, watery and light and he knows he’s winning. It isn’t long before he’s got you trapped under him, legs tugged up around his hips so he can fuck into you slow and deep, his fingers still carding through your hair and keeping your eyes on him.

“So good for me.”

“Keep your eyes on me baby.”

“Just me and you.”

You couldn’t close your eyes if you wanted to, anchored to his stare and his touch and the way he whispers at you such sweet things. He kisses you deep when he feels you tightening around him. Thighs pulled tight around his hips, hands grasping for his shoulders to hold him tight to you while you spasm and gasp around him. He follows soon after, dropping his head down to nuzzle into your neck.

“Sweet girl.”

“Always so good to me.”

“Love you so much.”

Eddie lets you unwind from him before he lays on his back beside you.

“Can I show you something?” He pulls you in next to him so you have to drape over his chest, tattoos swelling under his deep breath. He holds his phone over your heads and finds the photo album he was looking for. You catch a glimpse of one of you and start to turn your head into his chest before he tuts at you.

“What did we just talk about?”

Instead you give him the benefit of doubt and let him scroll through. He talks about all the photos he has of you and why he kept them. Why he took them or got them from Robin or Nancy or one of the kids on one of the many outings. He’s got pictures of sunsets and really good food and flowers and his succulent pot. There’s a skyline in the rain from a green room he was in that he tells you reminds him so much of you. Says something about composition and the rain and how it comforts him like you do and if you weren’t wrung out you’d start crying again. He scrolls for a half hour explaining every photo and why they’re all you or remind him of you and how he finds you in the things he finds beautiful.

“So yes, I do.” He grabs your chin and you melt into his touch as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. “I think you’re pretty and beautiful and stunning and I will remind you every day.” Another peck before he cradles your head against his chest.

One day, maybe, you won’t have to remind yourself that it doesn’t matter. That Eddie thinks you’re pretty and that’s all you need, but today you know it for sure and feel it for sure and it’s enough.

(Sacrifice for the read more)

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Comfort #My Work #My Fic #Eddie Munson smut

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fmpprojectap · 2 years

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-Real-life alien looking plants-

-Fungus-

Most people arent used to see species of fungus such as these as they most commonly associate mushrooms with garden mushrooms which are small and brown. There are a huge variety of mushrooms other than just the edible kind.

For example, pink bonnet mushrooms and amethyst deceivers are such bright and 'pretty' colours, although in nature bright unnatural colours are usually associated with poison, these mushrooms almost look cute and very visually app[ealing.

in games mushrooms like these could possibly be used to eat as a health boost or some sort of ability. As for looks, these mushrooms would look great lighting up an area by glowing.

On the other side of the spectrum, the yellow patches mushroom and inky cap mushrooms look extremely dangerous and poisonous.

Inky cap mushrooms are in fact only poisonous when consumed with alcohol, otherwise they are edible. This could be cool as a mechanic having only some items being consumable with other things.

These mushrooms in games would possibly be poisonous or have a certain radius you can be within before you take damage from briething in their fumes, more the defensive type than offensive.

Fungus that look like the Purple jellydisc or the stinkhorn fungus look like the type to either spread towards the player and attack them or uncurl and grab the player, as these fungus look much more like the 0ffense type of fungus. In game they would definitely attack the player.

-Venus Flytrap-

Venus flytraps are plants made up of heads that resemble a mouth and teeth. These plants are commonly known for catching flies (hence the name), bugs and other flying inscets, usi8ng acid to digest their prey. As scary as they sound, these plants cannot, at their size harm humans.

Similary to the dangerous looking fungus, i thibnk venus fly traps would actively try to snap up the player. Or, maybe even be laid out as traps for the players to walk onto.

-Succulents & Cactus-

Succulents are thick leaf fleshy plants that use their leaves to retain water, these plants can go without water for months which would make them perfect for environments with little to no nutrition, same with cactus.

-Coral Reef-

Games such as subnautica and The gunk take heavy inspiration from coral reefs and general underwater life.

The gunk (gameplay)

The coral Reef is made up of an incredible amount of bright colours, and as seeing the bottom of the ocean is not accesable to most people, you can only see it through photography giving it that unrealistic and alien feel.

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all-things-succumb-to-decay · 2 years

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Pangolin grass type starter

Roots for ears and underside of tail Baby is Oblossum

It’s final evo is grass steel

Wooly bear caterpillar that turns into a cat moth cause Virgin tiger moth is what wooly bears turn into

Rhino beetle hyena big dark maybe?

It’s baby is a grub puppy

Water starter goes from like a leopard gecko to a ribbon eel dragon. Coral horns and bits. It’s sleepy and likes to put others to sleep water psychic final evo type

Fire ferret into fire couatamundi or what ever or like. Civet something long with a bit tail that’s fire rock with lava and rock making the tail stripes baby fire ferret tail is a sparkler

Spider with a grass knot or a tumble weed for a butt

Psychic beluga

Succulent ant. Succlant

Butterfly that is actually a carnivorous plant

Water grass type loch ness shape based on lotus flowers growing up above the muck

It’s baby form is just a little messy leafy plesiosaur or something

Fighting type babirusa 2 stage

Catnip cat

Shadow thing under blanket/coins/etc like has a mimic vibe it’s like mimikyu like u never see it’s true form it’s just little grabby hands that reach out from under the piles.

Thylacine fossil?

Coffee bean that is either grass psychic or grass dark

Because like. Idk man but coffee has dark effects on my body. Fast effects. But dark.

Grass fire incense Pokémon

Rat king three stage more rats? More rats.

Grackle to dragon pipeline final evo looks like it fucked a bedazzler

Honey pot ants that r like eevee. What ever they got in their butts is the type. Idk if it’s like. A evo sitch with three different elemental ants or if it is a gimmick Pokémon that just like. Changes type.

Anubit anubould

Tenneric poison electric pikachu clone

Psychic olm pseudo legendary dragon

pseudo legendary ‘mythic’ like celebi or victini that a cuttlefish that changed type depending on the environment or the weather effects so like it would completely wreck a team built around sandstorm it’s a kittlefish like it’s tails are like the tentacles of cuttlefish and it’s eyes are OwO eyes it’s a cute baby cat

Fairy flying golden heron 2 stage maybe ghost fairy because like. They’re said to carry souls to the after life?

Grass whale. It’s like a hump back cause they’re my fave two stage???

Two headed fawn that turns into the two headed unicorn like that one taxidermy

I want it to split apart and be connected by a spine and like ectoplasm and the girls get little ectoplasm unicorn horns and the boys get ectoplasm antlers

Lamb of tartary Pokémon 3 stage grass wife

I think I already have the grass wife trope but like. Idk I love grass types I’m sorry. I can’t help myself.

There should be a water fighting type based off of a betta and the adult evo can have different color patterns assigned at random like Spinda

Fairy rock konpeito

Water steel hippocampus the baby form is just a little pony but with a dolphin tail

Poison steel based on mercury

Pure steel type that’s just a mailbox. They’re delivery Pokémon. The little red flags are on both sides and are like. Puppy ears.

Scarab beetle that imitates luxury balls when baby form. Adult form is opulent very fancy black and gold bug rock type

Solid rock type Minotaur two stage. The baby is just a liddol calf very cute

Dark poison type two stage based on the shaggy inkcap mushroom

Also I want a fairy type that’s pure fairy because monotypes are actually p important to cannon Pokémon games anyway. Fairy type two or three stage that starts off as just a little deer but ends up like a big stag that looks like it’s made of wood and is covers in mushrooms. Like the ruff around the neck is just layers of oyster mushrooms or turkey tails

Flat normal type hedgehog into porcupine

Split evo spider one is bug fairy one is bug dark both jumpers just the fairy is a peacock spider the dark is a bold jumper

Fire steel red river hog two or three stage

I want a Pokémon that evolves differently if it’s in the wild vs if it’s caught and trained

And now that I’ve decided to make Pokémon based off my cats there we go like the base is normal and it’s a kitten like it’s a very small baby super baby tiny and if it’s caught as this baby and raised by someone it turns into a big soft normal flying but if it’s left to the wilds it becomes a normal fighting and it’s like. A Bamf

Hummingbird mouse griffin that’s flying fighting because grasshopper mice and hummingbirds are both so Aggro

Gold orb weaver that can use a move like pay day that gets you money it’s baby form is often mistaken for gold nuggets 77

Normal type that is a like. A harp like idk deer with harp antlers or something with strings between spines on its back idk idk

I kno I have a couple mushroom Pokémon already I think but like what about a lion with a lions mane mushroom for a mane tho

Like the region is already kinda apocalyptic feels so maybe it makes sense there’s a lot of mons that are kinda fungal. Idk. …

Make a quest beast that isn’t a giraffe

Mahoganbee. It’s not a bee it’s a mahogany wasp it’s a solo Pokémon and it’s bug and grass and it’s a friend

Water fairy solo Pokémon that’s a manga ray with like rainbow elements so like when it breaches the water it leaves like. The wrainbows in the air and idk I’m sleeping

An object Pokémon that’s a snake Made outta horse shoes. Solid metal but then the evo is steel dragon and you add spurs as spikes on the back to make it bulky and sharp

Also maybe a Capricorn cause like. Fish goat. Oh maybe a foil to the hippocampus

Grass type that is a lion with a mane made of peacock feathers

Shrimp horse

I already have Anubis so like I kinda wanna do set or like a typhonic beast so like the baby is pure dark and then the evo is dark electric or dark dragon

I Dont think there are any rock ghost Pokémon so like a ghost that is fused with a tombstone? Ough maybe a stego that has headstones as it’s back fins and it can have like a Celtic cross for its tail this isn’t a fossil Pokémon tho I don’t vibe with a fossil being revived just to be a ghost maYBE it’s Jersey Devil shaped. Like idk idk idk but I’m scheming this feels close

Regional variant one is a deaths head hawk moth and one is a Luna moth 94

Ok but a fire type that is a lava lamp like maybe a giraffe with lava lamp neck or a Fox with a lava lamp tail

Baby bat that is normal type that just has a big honking nose like big v shaped nose it can’t fly yet it’s head is like the size of the rest of the body it’s all shnoz and all ears the grown up form has like frilly wings like a parasol

European starling that is flying steel because the gold on the wings the end form is steel fairy or psychic? Something what ever it’s gonna be spacey

Wait another shark that is water ghost and it’s a shark with ghost fins because of shark fin soup

Psychic poison scorpion. The baby is bug poison. There’s eyes inside the claws and like the lore is that people use it as a psychedelic. Is that too much for a Pokémon game? Oh well I guess.

Rock water type that’s like. The baby is a grotesque and it’s just rock but the gargoyle is rock water because. Architecture. Idk.

The regional rodent is raccoon based and it gets more rabid looking as u go

A pair of pokes that’s like. One is a wolf in sheeps clothing one is a sheep in wolfs clothing

Pure water type that is a brittle star sea star that like. Walks around like u used to walk ur hand around U kno? Like it is just a little creachur

The grass wife will be oak based and the baby will be acorns and the adult will be oak tree based but there’s three kinds there’s live oak red oak and bur oak and all of them have diff leaf shapes and maybe the acorn babies are shaped dif too

Legendaries maybe growth and decay themed so the decay legendary is mushroomy and the growth is flowery ofc But like what animals the third legendary is based on like the pure core of life and I want it to have a crazy god particle feel it’s got like a double helix tail and maybe horns oh maybe it’s a kirin. The decay Pokémon is maybe named Endtrophy 116

Manticore Pokémon but instead of a human face it has a baboon face because I don’t like human mons and also baboons are cool as fuck

I want a shark Pokémon that’s fairy and very sweet because everyone loves dolphins and they’re shitty and sharks are good

Bug dragon that’s like. The frills of the face are the moth wings with like the eye spots like it’s. Complicated but it’s good it’s very cool ok I swear

Ghost psychic that is a chameleon that is like. Glow in the dark skeleton idk maybe it’s body and shape is like made of smoke like the gengar line

I want a white rabbit with red eyes that looks at first glance very fairy type but it’s actually dark type and it’s not a rabbit it’s a hare so it’s inherently rly fucked up the baby form of it is like a little puff ball dust bunny or mochi bunny or something that’s strict normal

Firefly shooting star Pokémon it’s bug lightning the baby is just a little sparkle star the middle is a uhhh it’s a rock like it’s a meteor u kno and yeah shooting star firefly

There is a sheep Pokémon that is the like. Poster child for Delta Pokémon it’s a normal type but at any point u can take it to a Modico station and change its type and form. Like froufrou or what ever it was called. It’s a sheep because of dolly the cloned sheep

I need a fire type that has spikes like maybe a stego? But basically the spikes are made of fire and like high intensity torch style flames so they look sharp

Abrice the ice psychic abra and koldabra there isn’t a third evo because the psychic power is dampened 129

The evil corp is called Modico Corporation

They front as a company of good will and change progress etc etc

The evil team people is called Team ChimeRNA

Cause like. DNA and rna like. And they’re doing gene splicing.

Some of the original canon pokes u can catch you can also take to a Modico station ‘modicubes’ that are like in Pokémon centers and stuff anyway u can take them and some you can change to like Entolian Forms and some you can just change their types. Not all can be changed like there will only be like 20 or so and the company says it’s because cracking the Genome of different Pokémon takes time because Pokémon vary so widely.

U can se delta Pokémon in the wild as well tho it’s not common. When a Pokémon is delta variant it has a different color or pattern so it’s like easy to see. It’s kinda like finding a shiny but it’s not that rare. They also don’t sparkle when u find them just different colors. If u breed a delta there’s a percentage that u can breed a delta. Some Pokémon can only get one delta type but some have like idk maybe three options. It’s not like. U can take any Pokémon and add any element. That’s what Modico wants but they’re not there yet.

The region is a series of islands. Not like Hawaii more like. Iceland and Greenland and like. A third idk. Anyway most travel is don’t by bird like that’s the fast travel mechanic and it’s by a giant condor themed bird that also takes flavor from bearded vultures. The babies are a bit stupid cute but useless. They’re dodos.

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eddsworldrus · 2 years

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What do all the boys home planets look like from your space au?

Ok oh boy!

this will be long since a lot of based off some oc stuff

Tord

So his race (Kathar) Their species a fair sized chunk have never even seen their homeworld!. A lot live on massive warships that cruise around, and are cities in their own light with their size and scale. And there is def a big difference in the cultures between Kathar who live on the homeworld, and those who live on warships. So different traditions/customs/and attitudes. Especially since every warship develops it's own customs, micro-holidays, and communities.

But it's a very pretty world with huge forests of megaflora Red wood trees spanning 100's of feet up. A world with a /lot/ of mountainous terrain and huge plain like areas on some of the steep mesa/flat portions

then deep foggy basins, and lots of the cities built up the sides of the mountains, mesa's or plains areas often pretty tight clustered cities where they live close together i was thinking of lots of world building and all these paleontology videos had me a lot more inspired to think about world building, and environmental factors their world would have that probably helped kathar adapt like that Mountainous landscapes, do powerful/digitigrade legs for climbing/traversing difficult areas, A lot living in very high altitudes. heavy/dexterous tails for balance and grabbing things especially

Fave lil leaf mice that catalogue as leaves/ect to hide in their forest floor homes. Just laying flat on the ground when many of the many species of avians are overhead.

Edd His planet is mostly ocean (like 90% water). With immense ocean biodiversity, (like think subnautica variety as a close example). (especially his species has a ton of variety based off their location/sub species) Edd mostly lives in massive underground tunnel networks. The world is *viscous* when there's massive leviathans and hostile sea life all about, so constantly out for ways to survive.

Also around the few patches of land massive coral reef like forest, some as tall as tree's branching out into the water.

Kelp forests that go for miles and miles

Then deep trenches with all sorts of life. You bet there be some weird ass crab creatures cause we love carcinisation

Matt

His planet is the least habitable, with most of the surface being to harsh for many species to live on, as it's volcanic, extremely hot, acidic rain, and just generally volatile. The surface is craggy and mostly barren, asides from the few species that live there. Most of his species live in vast underground networks. They've developed extreme tolerance to heat, toxic gases. and other rough environments.

So they've built up and reinforced their deep tunnel systems, and giant open caves, over many years. Having made gorgeous structures and adornments to it. Especially since living underground having a lot of access to metals and minerals to work with as building materials.

Fruit is a rarity/delicacy there as most plants they get tend to be more uncommom/mostly succulent/cactus adjacent with how rough the terrain/soil conditions can be.

Then big underground springs are another common feature, as they'll actively seek these out and build around.

Tom His is a mostly nocturnal planet, cooler temperatures, and has multiple moons. A lot of Lots of flat plains land and thick woods and brush. Not as many mountains/extreme heights.

For a majority of the time it's dark or almost a constant state of night/occasional dusk. Which a lot of bioluminescent life has developed, especially in the plants and fruits. Glowing to attract pollinators and seed spreading creatures.

Just sometimes fields of glowing flowers cropping up during the right seasons.

Their capital city is a massive floating city (Built on a base of the same crystals he has on his necklace and are 'magic amplifiers' so a whole lot of magic junk on his world),

Dappling of rural towns and villages. Lots of buildings having been lived in for generations, as a lot of importance in their culture for their history/traditions)

(some of their focus on tradition/valuing their culture does get toxic and there has been a growing counter culture movement against it)

A lot of the small towns have nice wooden buildings, or spires and obelisk like buildings. Most build around the environment but not over it.

Their sea/ocean is a big point of superstition, and very little sea faring. As it's a jet black ocean and most of it's contents are unknown, that is often seen as 'cursed'. Like a common phrase is 'sea touched' as those who are unlucky/dealt with tragedy (A lot of their funeral practices are mostly sea burials to pass on)

A couple other members of his species! oops I have a lot of lore/stuff for Tom and Tord's worlds especially

#eddsworld au #space au #this is such a long post but I can type about these worlds for a long tiiime #mostly cause a lot of concepts for the planets/races were preexisting/oc content of mine

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cherrynojutsu · 3 years

Text

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 6/?: Roots

It's pouring rain by the time Sasuke awakens, a tempestuous sort of hush awash a village swathed in grey. He's gotten a very good night's sleep, only waking once around five to groggily hearken as the pitter patter of droplets began against the asphalt and metal of the roof. He'd watched the beads of liquid slowly connect to others, forming small rivulets pulled downwards by gravity on the glass of his bedroom window, before he made the decision to try to fall back asleep. To his bewilderment, it had actually worked; a rare occurrence, as it usually doesn't. No dreams, no nightmares, just blissful emptiness, like he was allowed for once to drink in the moisture of rest like a tonic, exuding into his being much like the precipitation trickling into the soil outside.

It's nine thirty when he rolls out of bed, reluctant to leave the warm requiescence of his comforter, but also wanting to give himself plenty of time to get ready. He'd like to shower before he heads over to Sakura’s, and he also wants to eat something light for breakfast first. He decides on ochazuke, because it’s relatively easy to prepare and he thinks he would like more tea; two birds with one stone. There are sesame seeds in his cupboard that he could sprinkle over the dish, at the end. He sets a portion of brown rice to boil before brewing a cup of the caffeinated green sencha to eventually seep over it.

It smells really good as it permeates into the hot water, earthiness propelling upwards and sinking into his nostrils. He'll have to thank her again today, now that he knows what her gift actually contained.

While he lets things stew, Sasuke considers the kitchen table, where he left the remainder of the gifts yesterday. Now is as good a time as any to find a place for each of them, he supposes. He makes quick work of washing the paring board before setting it aside to dry. The cough drops find a home in his bathroom's mostly empty storage behind the mirror; he takes the two lozenges left from the hospital and puts them there, too, to use before he opens any of the new packages.

He decides that the photo should go on the bedside table, next to the clock. He can always move it, if he changes his mind. It catches his eye for longer than is strictly necessary.

Eventually he returns to the kitchen, removing the strainer from the tea and stirring the pot of rice twice as he waits for it to finish cooking. The barrage has lessened since daybreak, not overly loud, but enough to create an ambient sort of background noise that is a nice change of pace; less of a storm and more of a quenched thirst for the earth, emptying from rooftops down the gutters and into the ground. Sakura’s building is older, too; it probably will sound much the same at her apartment.

He savors the ochazuke once it’s finished, a simple but enjoyable way to start the day, caffeine threading its way into his system gradually. Washing the dishes is his next task, followed by an extremely lengthy shower, temperature near thermogenic. The bruises from his two spars with Naruto are still sore, but not terrible; the heat feels good on the marred skin. Water drifts across more bruising that has bled into existence overnight on his shins, before it sinks between his toes and vanishes down the drain. He’s not sure why he watches it; it just seems compelling today for some reason, everything pulling downward.

When he’s dry, he throws on a comfortable pair of black pants and a matching long-sleeved shirt. He doesn’t want to read more of his book since he has a little less than half left of the one on kenjutsu, so he decides to complete some meal prep instead, testing out the paring board by chopping and slicing various produce; mushrooms, bell peppers, broccoli, carrots, tomatoes, green onions, and burdock roots are slowly removed from his fridge, cleaved into neat pieces, and then returned to their respective assortment of bags and containers. The small bits of metal attached to the board allow for cutting goods with ease, a bit ingenious. It works extremely well, much more efficient than the hassle of summoning a clone to simply stand there holding each item still. It’s not that he doesn’t have the chakra to spare, but it feels more dignified this way.

After enough time has passed, Sasuke pulls on a pair of grey socks, sandals, and his cloak before he leaves, library book concealed and protected by the black garment.

It’s marginally chilly outside, but not terribly cold like it would have been earlier in the morning. Petrichor overwhelms him, an aroma he is well acquainted with. He is reminded of the scent of the foliage the handful of times he passed through the Land of Rain, and also of drizzly days spent as a child here in Konoha. Every bit of vegetation he glimpses on the way to Sakura’s apartment complex is drinking up the liquid greedily, drop after drop of nourishment with which they will sustain themselves and use to grow.

The puddles are starting to join in their crevices, small streams of gentle cascades forming. It captures his attention like the shower drain did earlier, and it feels nostalgic for some reason, like there is some forgotten secret that the land beneath is whispering through the medium of interconnected pools, rippling outward until they touch more solid soil.

His hair is a bit damp when he arrives at her building just prior to eleven. Illumination flows from beneath doorways of variegated colors; everyone else is inside today, too. The tonality is similar to the harmony overheard at his own apartment, as he expected; he finds it comforting.

He knows he’s a little early, so Sasuke takes his time going up the stairs. Once he reaches the sage green of her threshold, he raps twice and waits, studying Sakura’s plants in their terracotta pots. There are a few amongst them that he doesn’t recognize, which is curious, given that he’s wandered so many places and has grown familiar with a vast diversity of flora. There is lucky bamboo pushed towards the back of the array, in the area that gets the least amount of light. A spider plant is to its left, and a golden pothos, along with a snake plant, are sandwiched to its right, towards the corner. A lilac moth orchid blooms near her door, a paler variety than he has seen anywhere else. Coral kalanchoe spill out the side of a taller planter, next to pink and pistachio mums, faded yellow butterfly ranunculus, and a small vessel filled with white daffodils, sunny insides flourishing outwards. There are succulents, too, tricolor lavender scallops sprinkled throughout several of the ceramic containers, along with a strain he doesn’t recognize.

Yarrow and jewelweed emerge from smaller pots on the edge of the spread, which makes him wonder if the few plants he’s unfamiliar with are being grown for useful purposes rather than decorative. Perhaps she keeps them for her work crafting antidotes; he knows that the roots of plants can often carry medicinal benefits. One of them is quite odd looking, now that he is peering down at it closely; dark plum-colored stems spread upwards with circular leaf-like shapes at the crown, trains of spiky white flowers budding from them. Another one he can’t identify has a tiny whitish yellow flower, dwarfed by the huge wrinkled leaves that surround it.

They appear as if they have been tended already, the loam damp as it is outside with no opportunity for warmth to dry them as of yet, though this verdure is more tame, less wild. She must water them in the morning. All of them are so different, yet they are all alike, too, stringy germinations and rhizomes expanding to suffuse through their similar planters.

Her door clicks open, and he shifts. Sakura smiles up at him, sunshine on a rainy day accented by a dimple, wearing an extremely comfortable-looking outfit: an oversized cream crewneck that slips off one of her shoulders a little, and a juniper pair of jogging pants that he thinks would be too long for her if not for the gathering at the ankles.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," she greets, eyes he loves radiant on his. "It's almost ready; come in."

He responds, “Morning,” and follows her inside, placing his library book on the console table momentarily, where her lamp is already switched on. As he shrugs off his cloak and toes off his sandals, she drifts back to the kitchen, something likely needing her attention there. He notices as she goes that there is an extremely fuzzy pair of beige socks on her feet.

As he hangs his cloak, he realizes that her apartment smells like roasted tomatoes and toasting bread, overpowering any vague notes of her tea cabinet in a way that makes his mouth water.

Sasuke reaches for his book from the console table and goes further into her living space, where the rest of her lamps are also turned on already; no hard lighting. He assumes they'll read on her couch, so he sets the text on the end table, closest to the side where he’d sat the previous night. There are two blankets thrown over the sofa now that weren't there yesterday, one appearing plush that is a color somewhere between mauve and lavender, and the other one a knit heather grey. It’s probable that they came from her bedroom; perhaps the walls are some variant of violet, a color he would not have expected.

As he turns, intending to join Sakura in the kitchen, his eye catches on a familiar photo, and he stops. Perched on one of the few empty areas of one of her bookshelves is their original Team Seven portrait, in a pale wood frame, near white. It's different in finish from the other frames adorning her walls near the kitchen, much lighter in color.

He is struck by it for multiple reasons; it wasn’t there yesterday, meaning it probably has also come from her bedroom, and it is very close in finish to the wood of the uchiwa fan he gave her as a birthday gift. He hasn’t seen it; Sasuke knows most women keep ornamental fans like that in storage for safekeeping. He vaguely recalls his own mother used to keep hers, though less ornate and made of paper rather than silk, in boxes, stored securely for future use at festivals and such in her closet. She’d shown them to him, once, and he’d seen her carrying them on special occasions, from time to time.

Sasuke studies the picture and the wood grain for a long moment, gaze softening. He wonders if she moved it out here to make him feel more at home.

He breaks his contemplation by making his way to her kitchen finally, where Sakura is flipping a grilled cheese sandwich over in a pan, one of two. A slow cooker lies atop the counter, lid condensed with moisture, with plates, bowls, and spoons laid out next to it.

It smells really good.

Green eyes fall on him, bright and filled with exuberance. "These are on their last minute, I think, so if you wanted to, you could dish up the soup while I finish them. There’s a ladle in there.” She gestures towards the drawer beneath the counter where the slow cooker rests. “It's tomato miso; I hope you like it. It should be done by now.”

His stomach suddenly feels tied in knots in the best sort of way. A gilding of warmth spreads throughout his entire being, veins and arteries and capillaries slowly immersed in something numinous.

“...I’m sure I’ll like it,” he murmurs, reveling in the blush that inks its way onto her cheeks, all the way back on her cheekbones to surround the freckle he’d touched yesterday. She looks away shyly, grinning like he has given her some grand compliment. The corners of his own mouth twist upwards.

Sasuke pulls the ladle from the aforementioned drawer, where it sits amongst other utensils, setting it in one of the bowls already placed on the counter. When he removes the lid, his olfactory senses instantly flood with a wave of savory miso; by the aroma, she must have used red, middle range, a perfect foil for the acidity of tomatoes. When he grabs the ladle again, he stirs it a few times; quartered shiitake mushrooms, kombu, scallions, and tomato chunks - he thinks they are of the plum variety - circle the pot, filling it near to the brim just below the surface. Sakura has made a considerable amount of it, much more than is needed for a single meal for two.

He shifts the plates closer to the slow cooker, bowls set atop them, before ladling soup in, careful not to spill and making sure to get an even mixture of produce with which to fill the broth in each. He rinses the ladle clean, and she mentions that there are small plates in the cupboard to his upper left, to rest the ladle on; he grabs one as she moves to open a different cupboard behind him.

Sasuke returns the lid to its place to trap in the slow cooker’s heat, rotating the dial from hot, past low and into the warming setting. When he turns back to Sakura, she’s shutting the stove off and moving the pan to a cool burner. Both of the sandwiches are resting on a cutting board, sliced diagonally.

The sandwiches smell really good, too. She veers the halves onto the empty space of the plates using the knife, before leaving it, along with the paring board, in the sink.

They each grab a plate and spoon before heading to her dining table, in front of the northern window. The dangling market lamp is already turned on, and fat droplets are slipping down the glass.

It’s a calming lunch they share, a steady lulling of inclement background noise alternating between bites of sandwich and spoonfuls of soup as they watch the street below. The avocado is good in grilled cheese; it’s something he would have never thought to add. Sakura dips hers into her soup, so he tries it, too, and finds he likes it even better that way. The soup on its own is something else, though; filling and savory, near perfectly spiced. She’s a good cook.

“It’s good. Thank you,” he compliments halfway through as she chews and swallows a bite.

She beams at him. “You’re welcome.” She studies him before adding, “There’s enough for leftovers, if you’d like any more.”

He nods and takes another mouthful, looking out the glass thoughtfully. The residential buildings across the way are also lit up, soft light blurred through the fractals of raindrops.

“Do you think Naruto’s doing his homework on a day like today?” Sakura asks eventually.

“Tch.” He turns his gaze to her. “I doubt he’s even awake yet.”

Her grin is mischievous. “You’re probably right. It's his weekend. No Hinata around to wake him up? Definitely still asleep.” She sighs exaggeratedly. “Kakashi-sensei will be so disappointed. Though it’s better than copying someone else’s, I guess.”

“...Did he used to copy yours?” He’s more amused by that prospect than he should be, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

Sakura furrows fine pink brows as if she knows that he knows the answer, too, but she’s still smiling. “He used to ask if he could. I was too good of a student to let him.”

“...Figures.” A ghost of a smile overtakes him, a cleansing sort of sentimental fondness for bygone days during which their third squad member was at his most annoying.

“I think Shikamaru used to let him. It was too much effort to say no that many times.”

Sasuke exhales through his nose, a rendition of a laugh as she takes another bite of her sandwich, dipping it first in the soup and looking amused. Nara would.

He also takes another bite, and mulls over his next words.

Swallowing beforehand, he inquires, “...What’s in Suna?”

Sakura blinks in surprise, analytical eyes quickly working out that he’s referring to her comment yesterday at Ichiraku’s. She turns to the window, smirking and chewing her food as if considering something of great importance. The dimple sinks in and out as her mouth moves; he averts his eyes back to his plate before he gets caught staring.

When she swallows, she’s quiet for a long moment, then says ambiguously, “I’m not sure I should say anything. Insider knowledge.”

Interesting. Sasuke is sure she has the same friendly camaraderie with Nara that she has with everyone else, but he assumes the insider knowledge must have actually come from Ino; she is the type to know everyone’s business, given how much she apparently shares her own with Sakura, and she is Shikamaru’s teammate, though they're both Jonin now.

“...No hints?” He presses, pinning her with a stare. Now he’s more curious; it must be something good, if it’s a secret of this magnitude.

She bites her lip, still grinning, then bites into her sandwich, watching precipitation race down the glass.

“One,” she finally acquiesces, as if it’s a monumental conspiracy. He raises an eyebrow in anticipation.

“It’s in Suna sometimes. Other times, not.”

He narrows his eyes and suppresses an urge to twitch, because that could really be anything, given their line of work, but based on her bemused expression, he’s not going to get more than that. He settles for studying her until she looks elsewhere, a shy giggle escaping her throat as if this is very funny.

“Sorry. Not mine to tell.” She raises another spoonful of soup to her lips.

“...But Kakashi knows?”

She swallows. “Oh, yes. He might have known before anyone else caught on.”

“Naruto?”

Sakura appears to be deliberating. “...Mmm, he’s more observant than when we were kids, so he might. I kind of doubt it though. They’re pretty good friends now, but…”

Sasuke hadn’t known that. He waits for her to finish her thought, staring at her pointedly. Her gaze flicks back up to his after a second.

She shrugs, then. “He’s a good strategist. I kind of think he’ll hold a higher-up position, once Naruto becomes Hokage, if Kakashi-sensei doesn’t promote him before that. He’d be an asset as an adviser.”

Shikamaru became the chief coordinator of the Shinobi Union, after the war. That type of advancement would make a lot of sense. He would be well-suited to assist the Hokage even now, moreso in a few years. It speaks to Naruto’s increase in awareness, Sasuke thinks, that he would be planning ahead to compensate for areas he is less strong in by appointing sensible counsel. A clan head is an astute choice, especially one who has put in efforts to make peace.

It’s odd, to think of the roles everyone in their generation has come or will come to fill, the more he considers it. Distinctively different plants with roots distending into analogous vessels, like the terracotta ones on Sakura’s doorstep.

“Nara’s a good choice for that,” Sasuke finally says, realizing he should respond.

Sakura inclines her head before lifting her bowl to her mouth to drink the last of her broth. She’s finished her sandwich now. He’s about finished with his, too.

This is nice, he thinks as she smiles at him before glancing outside again. “It’s really coming down now, huh?”

It’s the type of question that doesn’t really need an answer, but he nods anyway, because it is. Meager ponds are collecting in the street, rills tracing pathways over the awnings of the building across the thoroughfare. Pitter patters on the roof have grown in intensity to rival those of the early morning. It reminds him almost of the summer monsoons Konoha tends to get, though this clearly isn't one, still being in the throes of spring. Moisture is good for roots, he supposes.

He sips the last of the broth from his bowl, and she looks back to him. “Would you like another bowl? Or maybe some tea? I can brew some while I do the dishes.”

Sasuke considers the offer. It was a pretty filling meal, the soup piquant and packed with produce as it was. “...Tea would be good. I can help.”

Sakura seems like she’s going to protest, so he adds, “Thank you for the sencha… and the rest. I didn’t have loose leaf yet; I like it.”

She flushes, smiling at him softly. “You’re welcome.”

A silence filled by drizzle passes in which they regard each other, and then she’s standing to collect her plates, so he follows her example and grabs his own before trailing behind her to the kitchen.

It’s early enough still that they can have caffeinated tea, so she cycles through the loose leaf options she has as the sink fills with suds; matcha, chai, ginger peach, white monkey, and rose bouquet white. “The white monkey isn’t as sweet as it usually is; I think I got a unique batch. It’s more woody and peppery than anything; I’ve been mixing it with matcha.” There are the pre-packaged versions, too, but she doesn’t read them off, since they have more specifically sweet flavors, like caramel vanilla, banana dessert, and strawberry shortcake.

He picks white monkey at her recommendation of it not being too cloying, and she grabs one of the banana dessert pre-packaged tea bags for herself. Sakura makes short work of setting the water in the kettle to boil before procuring two teacups and siphoning some of the white monkey blend into a small strainer she pulls from another drawer.

Once she’s done that, she unplugs the slow cooker and reaches for something from a lower cupboard - two hand towels - to put on the counter; he assumes one is to utilize as a dish mat and the other is to actually dry with.

“If you really want to, you can dry… But you’re a guest, so you don’t have to,” she murmurs, expression affectionate in a way that makes his neck warm.

So Sasuke helps. She washes and rinses - her dish soap is lemon-scented - and strategically sets each piece atop the first towel he’s laid out. He dries one side of the plates and bowls, then flips them over one-handed to dry the other, stacking them on the clean expanse of counter to his right. It doesn’t take very long with them working together. When she goes to empty the sink, she gives it a scrub and a rinse with the soapy sponge she’s been using, efficient as always, before rinsing any remnant suds from her own hands.

“I can show you where everything goes,” Sakura says, so Sasuke helps her put things away, too, mentally cataloging what’s in each cupboard for future reference. Her storage system is well thought out, organized in a way that makes the most sense for the layout of the space.

When she reaches upwards to put the cutting board back in its place, the sleeve of her top slips further to one side, gravity pulling the fabric downwards on her slender frame and exposing some of the skin of her upper back. There is a dusting of tiny freckles just above the interior portion of her left shoulder blade that he hadn’t known was there. The way they are scattered reminds him of serpens caput, missing only one of the constellation’s general equivalent of stars. He forces his stare away, ears reddening, when she turns to remove the pot from the slow cooker.

“Thank you for helping.” Sakura adds coconut creamer and sugar to her own cup of tea, stirring. “Would you like lemon with this one?”

Sasuke thinks, still a little distracted by dainty freckles, before shaking his head. If it’s woody and peppery, he’ll probably like it fine on its own. She pushes his teacup towards him on the counter with a look that tells him to test it, so he does, and finds he was right; it’s herbaceous, with a scant amount of woodiness and pepper lurking underneath. Maybe the tiniest hint of sweetness, but barely.

“It’s good,” he tells her quietly, before taking another sip.

Apparently the grey blanket is reserved for him; she takes the lavender once they head to the living room, curling up on one end of the couch with it, tea and her book on the table. Based on her bookmark, she’s about halfway through hers. Sasuke does the same on the other end, mirroring her pose, back propped towards the side of the couch with feet extending to the middle rather than going off the front. He keeps his knees slightly bent so he doesn’t invade her space too much, though he doesn’t think she would mind.

He steals one last glance at her before opening his own book to get lost in the different ways to wield a blade. The rain on Sakura’s roof is ataractic, accented by the pleasant smell of tea, the sensation of a full belly, and a warm blanket that smells like her, though it’s more raspberry this time than any lingering antiseptic.

It’s nearly three by the time he finishes his book, mind swimming with descriptions of sword forms. Sasuke peeks at her and sees she’s almost done, too, so he rereads the more engrossing passages, the ones that were particularly well fleshed-out. He’s so relaxed that he thinks he could fall asleep despite the caffeine, if he closed his eyes for more than a few minutes; focusing on rereading should help him stay awake.

Sakura closes her book after a bit; he looks upward at the sound, meeting green.

“How was your book?” She asks, lips twisting upwards; she must have noticed he finished his, despite still reading her own.

"...Good."

“Learn anything?”

“...A bit.”

Her smile widens as if she is amused; maybe he should elaborate, but he’s not sure if practical applications of swordsmanship are something she’s interested in.

Evidently they are, because she questions, “Care to share?”

Sasuke begins explaining the concept of iaido, derived from iaijutsu, the samurai skill of drawing one’s sword and cutting in the same movement, rather than cutting from an assumed stance after already drawing the weapon. It’s a simple idea, one he’s experimented with in the past, but there had been illustrations on a few of the pages showing different forms, and two of them he has never attempted. The pictures helped; he thinks to himself when he visits the library again, he’ll seek out one containing more visual aides.

He expounds upon the chapter on dual swordsmanship, too, primarily utilizing one sword to attack and another to defend; the defensive stances detailed are some he would like to try, specifically tailored as they are to be used with one arm. Some of them he’s already used intuitively, but one of the forms captured his attention, involving a slight variant sweeping of the blade to repel an attacker that would situate them at a more advantageous angle. It could be useful, if he ever needs to draw an enemy into a trap.

“Interesting,” Sakura remarks, and it seems genuine. Maybe it is interesting, in the case of someone who has, at least to his knowledge, never used a sword. He would like to ask her about medical ninjutsu sometime. “So it was a good read?”

He inclines his head to indicate yes. “...And yours?”

Sakura grimaces. “It… wasn’t terrible, I suppose. I didn’t really like the author’s writing style. Ino and I differ in that regard. She reads things more for the story itself than the way it’s told, so sometimes this happens.”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow so she’ll clarify. She shifts slightly, bringing a finger to her chin in thought. “It was too… straightforward. Limited and repetitive vocabulary, not a lot of dialogue structural variation, though it’s well-researched; I’ll give it that. It takes place during the second Shinobi War. A civilian woman’s husband going off to battle, they have to evacuate the area, the costs of conflict, that sort of thing. The ending was sad…” Her voice trails off, punctuated by the plunk of deluge, then she adds, “I guess it makes sense that the protagonist would think in limited language given the rudimentary basic education structure of everything back then, but it’s not very… poetic. It was like the author felt nothing as they wrote it, a kind of detachment from the whole thing.”

He suppresses an urge to smirk, reminiscing on her letters and extensive vocabulary. “...You like poetry.” It’s just an observation, but it’s something he hadn’t known about her, prior to now. Very Sakura.

Color floods across her cheekbones, and she looks at him with an expression that is very tender, as if there’s something else she would like to say. He could stare for hours, entranced by her as he is. “...I do.”

Sasuke wonders, then, if any of the books on her bookshelves are poetry books. He hasn’t read the titles carefully. It occurs to him that she might have more books in her bedroom, now that he’s thinking about it. When he was younger, he used to keep many of his own in his room, too, sorted by genre.

“Did you finish your other book already?” Sakura asks him, then, expression inquisitive.

He nods, eyeing her as he contemplates what he would like to say. He decides not to phrase it as a question this time; he wants her to offer, so he knows he's not requesting too much. Give her an out. She trains with Ino in the morning on Mondays and has lunch with her after, but she hasn’t said anything about her plans for the afternoon.

There’s still something in him that’s nervous, tightening as he speaks, careful to specify time. “...I was thinking of going tomorrow afternoon to get some new ones.”

Her smile unfurls slowly; Sakura really can read him well. “...I was, too.”

His chest rushes with warmth, anxiety released in a single relieved breath; it's not too much, then. The corner of his mouth quirks up, and that seems to encourage her, because she adds, “Ino and I are usually done with lunch by around one. It’s supposed to be nice out, I think. We could…” Her voice trails off, as if she’s considering. “...We could meet at the library around one thirty, and then maybe… take books to a quieter area to read, after. If you want. I... think I know a spot that should be fairly dry by then.”

“...I can meet you here,” Sasuke offers in a low voice, a confession he's more comfortable with now. The way she glows in response as she agrees is captivating.

Sakura invites him to play go with her, after. He agrees, because he wants to, and also because he doesn’t want to leave just yet. They set up the board on her dining table, a gridded battlefield of sorts beneath the market light.

She absolutely demolishes him in the first round, carefully surveying the board before each play of her white stones with careful calculation and syllogism. It’s to be expected, because she has always been smarter than him, but also because he hasn’t played in years and is woefully out of practice, ill-prepared to deal with this sort of onslaught. The second round is closer, but he still loses. It’s a challenge, as he knew it would be; Sasuke finds her moves to be quite roundabout, more about the long haul tactics of trapping than any short and quick route to victory. There are times where he realizes he unknowingly played right into a ruse more than five turns previous.

It’s four thirty by the end of the second match. Sakura’s attention flashes to the clock once as she puts away the board; he helps, sorting his own black pieces into their respective container. He will have to head out soon, though he’s not looking forward to it. He is quite comfortable here, with her.

“It’s still coming down out there,” she muses as she rises to store the box, peering through the glass before turning to make her way to the bookshelf she’d retrieved the set from earlier.

“...It is.” He gazes out the window, distracted by the puddles and their ripples below them in the street. It feels almost as if something is tugging on him to focus on them, suggesting something orphic, beyond simple rainwater.

The soft clicking of teacups and small plates being collected from her coffee table resounds behind him, so he turns to her, thinking he could offer to help wash them.

“I made enough soup for leftovers, so if you want to take some home, you can.” Sakura says, before the words make it out of his mouth. Outwardly he remains blank-faced, but something in him sighs. He’s not really sure what he's going to do with the rest of the day. Sparring with Naruto would be unwise on a day like today; he’d probably catch a cold. He could go by a store and buy a book to read, he supposes.

Being back in Konoha is odd like that. He used to just… walk, if he didn’t have anything to do on his journey, or read her letters, but now that he has had the opportunity to spend time with her, he selfishly just wants more of it. Time spent alone seems dimmer in comparison.

He would like to take some soup back to his apartment, though. It was kind of her to offer; he should probably say something.

She looks contemplative when he looks to her, though, carefully clutching porcelain, and thank you lingers in his throat, unspoken.

“Or… If you would like to stay for dinner, and do something after... you could.”

The faintest of stings begins behind his retinas, something long in the tooth stirring, aged roots buried so deeply he had perhaps forgotten they ever existed in the first place. He thinks it is the feeling of being wanted, of having a place in someone’s home.

He hopes she’s offering because she genuinely wants him to stay. She has a mountain of responsibilities, he knows, although it is her day off.

“...You’re sure?”

Pink brows furrow as if she’s confused how he could ask such a thing; she shuffles her weight slightly from one foot to the other. “Of course.”

An interlude passes in which the torrent measures time, the beat of a ballad that is very old. Her next words are hushed, pianissimo lyrics that he’s sure she has no idea just how much he has yearned for; she’s biting her lip and peeking at him from beneath pink lashes as she says them.

“I missed you, when you were gone. You… can fill as much of my free time as you’d like.”

The daunting prospect of a lonely evening evaporates completely. His tongue feels tied up in his mouth, but he nods, hoping she can read in his eyes his gratitude; he’s fairly certain that if he spoke, it would come out hoarse, not at all suitable as a response to the song she has just offered to him.

Sasuke thinks that she can see it just fine, because she gives him a breathtaking smile that could sustain him for a long time, a drop of honey added to an overflowing teacup in which he sips the surplus, with a tinge of an aftertaste that isn’t too sweet for his liking.

The dishes are tackled together. After they finish, she reheats tomato miso soup and cooks two more sandwiches for supper. Another meal is shared at her dining table, overcast skies overlapping into evening, the lights from the windows of Konoha glowing more and more as time passes. It’s just as good the second time, flavorful and filling.

They watch a geology-focused documentary on her television about lava, earthquakes, and landslides. Sakura questions him afterwards about the little time he was in the Land of Volcanoes, south of the Land of Mountains. He hadn’t stuck around for any extended time due to the extreme heat, but what time he did spend there is seared into his memory due to the intensity of it. He had come rather close to one of the region’s volcanoes, within sight of a smoking center mere miles away with lava tendrils trickling outwards, in the process of cooling but still alarmingly hot.

It makes him feel more appreciative for the rain here today, recalling it. Here in Konoha, he could touch the streamlets if he wanted to; he doesn’t need to keep a distance.

They follow up the documentary with a movie after; this time he tells Sakura to pick one. It’s unique, including some fantasy elements, about a struggle between the gods of a forest and the humans living on its edge that consume its resources. The protagonist is cursed by an animal attack, and seeks out a cure from one of the deities. While traveling, he sees other areas in which humans are ravaging the earth and warring with the gods of nature, a thought-provoking contrast considering they’ve just viewed a program detailing the inner mechanisms and wrath of volcanic eruptions, much like gods of nature in their own rights. The conclusion is open-ended; though the hero tries to broker a peace between humanity and the spirits, there is no feeling of resolution or success, no guarantee that one side will mediate with the other. It isn’t quite what he expected it to be, but he notes that the characters were quite realistic, allowing for the viewer to identify with them and better experience what they must be feeling secondhand; it was not told in a detached sort of way as she’d said the book from earlier had been.

Sakura makes earl grey tea, after, and they visit for the better part of another hour, quiet voices awash in auriferous lighting, relaxed by bergamot malt and lemon slices. She inquires about his travels, which places overall were his favorite in the four other great nations. The way she looks at him as he answers makes his heart thump, as if she is hanging on his every word.

It’s near eleven at night by the time he rises for the entryway. The kiss they share before he leaves feels like the drizzle of the rainwater outside, mellow collections grown slowly but surely deeper from time spent together, inexplicably telluric like submerging into soil.

He steps in a few unavoidable collected pools of moisture on his way back to his own apartment, drenching his socks. It makes him feel strangely nostalgic again for some reason, a reminder of a place’s capacity for change, to absorb something and thrive again.

Sasuke has seen many parts of the world now, absorbed as much as he can through his brother’s eyes, and has just relived his favorites by describing them to Sakura. She didn’t ask him about his favorite place in the Land of Fire, though.

It may easily become Sakura’s apartment.

XXX

When he sinks into slumber, he is pulled further downwards into a memory from a very long time ago, something quondam that has since dissolved.

The recollection is hazy in the ways that dreams are, slightly murky as if he is viewing it through a puddle tinged with the loam of Konoha, but perhaps there is something about Sharingan vision even unactivated that embeds the visual acuity into one’s optic nerves, to live there in perpetuity for eventual retrospect. It is one of his earliest memories, he thinks; he would have been maybe four, meaning Itachi had to have been nine or ten, though there is no one he can ask to confirm.

There had been a summer monsoon, perhaps the first one he was old enough to remember, water temperate enough to exult in without catching cold. Their mother warned them not to be outside too long in the storm, and occupied the covered porch, observing them to make sure they heeded her will. There had been no precipitation for a while prior - he thinks there may have been a drought - so the moisture was welcome. Plashets collected in their sprawling yard, causing Mikoto Uchiha’s prized white lilies to appear as if they were emerging from small lakes. She had expressed concern that they may drown upon Sasuke’s examination of them, framing the boundary of their home, but he, in that naive viridity that small children have before the world beats it out of them, thought they were strong enough to persevere.

“I’m sure you’re right, Sasuke,” his brother had said supportively, before showing him a path that allowed a step in every puddle on their family’s grounds. They had raced to the far end of their property and back; he had clumsily fallen at the end of the first pass, getting soaked, as if he wasn’t already from the warm rain coating both of them from the ashen sky above. Mud stuck between his toes, squelching and cushioning his fall while simultaneously making him filthy. It had sloughed off so easily back then in the deluge, corroding all at once and bleeding into the mess of their yard to immediate murky liquidity.

Itachi helped him up by his left hand, getting covered in his muck before the water rinsed their digits clean, and then he was being challenged to a second sprint. Sasuke emerged victorious this time, though now, looking back with eyes that are not his own, he realizes his brother obviously let him win, trained Shinobi that he was by that point. Coming to terms with that is horrifying, because he can see now that his brother was still just a child, wisdom beyond his years be damned. Sasuke is sure Itachi would have to have killed people on missions by then, completely at odds with the soft-spoken and gentle countenance he portrayed at home.

Eventually there was enough drizzle that miniature rivers of connected pools formed, capillaries of nourishment interlacing everything. Sasuke had been fascinated by the changing landscape, until Itachi had ambled up to the porch to speak with their mother. Disappointment swept into him like a tide; he had thought that his brother didn’t want to play with him anymore. But then their mother had risen and gone indoors, and Itachi motioned for him to join him at the edge, beneath the awning.

She came back carrying a small pile of paper, which confused him. He’d watched, enthralled, as Itachi folded one of the pieces into something reminiscent of a boat, simple yet perfect.

“If you put them by the gutter, the force will push them sailing across the yard,” his brother had said; he remembers the inflection so clearly, strange because it is from a time when Itachi was young enough to have the voice of a child, so unlike the rich timbre he’d held later in life.

He had trailed after his brother to the gutter, and sure enough, the paper boat was propelled by the rain streaming down from the roof; it took off as soon as Itachi let go. Sasuke had stomped after it with approximately zero grace, mud coating him up to his ankles, until it reached the boundary fence, saturated through and less buoyant due to the barrage of droplets dampening it from above.

The absolute joy he felt, when he had sprinted back to tug on his brother’s sleeve to ask if he would show him how to make one, and he’d agreed. They’d returned to the pile of paper guarded from the elements by their mother, and Itachi showed him each step, creating another one alongside him as an example. His small hands were not very coordinated back then; his boat hadn’t turned out as nice, all wrinkled sloppiness instead of crisp, clean folds.

“You just need more practice,” Itachi had murmured. “My first one was messy, too. I’ll help you.”

Larger hands had closed around his, creating skillful creases and shaping with dexterity. The second boat turned out much better. Sasuke had given his first one to his mother, then, so she could race, too. Remembering the smile, the genuine look of motherly gratitude she’d given him, bruises something in his soul, precipitation on frail roots entombed deep; it reminds him of the struggle of swallowing a gulp of water after traipsing through the desert, dry mouth making it almost painful, a gargantuan effort that takes everything in him not to look away.

She’d followed them from the porch over to the corner eaves, staying under the cover to avoid getting drenched, and the three of them had released their creations. Sasuke thinks they had to have given him a small headstart, surrendering theirs just after his, so his boat would make it to the other end of the yard first. He’d run after it, Itachi meandering along behind him at a slower pace, while their mother stayed beneath the awning.

His brother had smiled at him as he jumped puddle to puddle in glee. They’d grabbed the now-soaked paper boats at the conclusion of their path, and brought them up to the porch to set in a pile. Then they constructed and raced more, a veritable treasure of a late morning. For his last of the day, Sasuke had tried folding one on his own again, and it turned out better than his first attempt. Though a little lopsided, it hadn’t capsized, sailing strong in the current unaided just like Itachi’s.

Their mother had made them shower and then drawn them a hot bath after, to ensure they were clean and warmed. She had parted his toes to get the mud stuck there out, soil spiraling and dissolving down the drain as he watched. He’d splashed Itachi in the bath after, and folded one more boat with a piece of paper his mother brought him, so he could see how much time it took for it to sink without getting flooded from above, an experiment in buoyancy.

She made miso soup with rice for a late lunch, with something from their aunt and uncle’s shop as a treat after, some variety of warmed pastry. Itachi had let him try his in addition to his own; Sasuke’s had been strawberry, but Itachi’s tasted of peach, gooey sweetness to top off a perfect day that wasn’t even over yet. Their mother must have made herself some tea, too; he remembers the aroma of jasmine filling the space, warmed by lamplight cast on dark wood. When she’d told Sasuke it was time for a nap, he’d become extremely sullen, because he didn’t want to sleep; he’d wanted to spend more time with his brother. It wasn’t often he was home for a full day, prodigy that he was by then and always on missions.

Itachi had surprised him. “I’ll take a nap, too. It's important to rest sometimes. You can join me, Sasuke.” His refusal morphed instantaneously to greedy acceptance. Sasuke crawled into bed with his brother in his room, huddled in the comforter for warmth as the deluge continued for hours, the dousing on their roof and peaceful breathing composing a conciliating symphony with which to lull him to sleep. Eventually he'd succumbed, tuckered out and content, though he'd tried to stay awake as long as he could so he didn't miss out on time with Itachi.

Ten year olds don't usually take naps. His brother may have feigned sleep just to get him to do as their mother wanted. That realization is trenchant, too, sharp like a blade, because it’s a cycle that would repeat itself until Itachi’s end, Sasuke never understanding until the moment had passed, always a step behind and looking backward instead of forward.

When he’d awakened later in the evening, he’d smelled food cooking, miyabi soup and some kind of grilled fish. Itachi hadn’t been beside him anymore, but after blinking groggily, his brother had appeared like an apparition in the door frame.

“Dinner’s almost ready, Sasuke.”

Drizzle is still pummeling his apartment building when he rouses in a dark bedroom, alone. No one appears in the door frame this time as he blinks unsteadily, throat choked before the silent tears come, because this memory aches, haunting his heart like some kind of drowned spectre, dripping muddy stains onto clean floors. Sasuke moves to wipe them away with his left hand, the one Itachi used to help him up from the mire, until he remembers that he doesn’t have a left hand anymore. Making a paper boat now would take twice as long.

Everything in him hurts, marcid marrow writhing in his bones as if they are dead roots that have gotten a drink after a decade spent in drought, someone trying to nurse something deceased or rotting back to life. He goes to the memorial stone under the tenebrose cover of two in the morning, but it doesn’t feel like his brother is there. All he has of him are the eyes drowning in his sockets and excruciating retrospection, intermixing with the rain soaking him outwardly.

I miss you, he thinks as he tries not to asphyxiate on the memory, hoping that his mother at least hears his thoughts here, echoed in the ponds collecting around the stone that bears her name. He has to leave eventually, because he starts picturing white lilies emerging from miniature lakes, full of life and swaying with wind and torrent, instead of cold and motionless grey granite, and he thinks he is going to start sobbing.

Sasuke returns to his apartment after the better part of an hour and stares out his living room window, nursing a miniscule cup of sencha tea, weak so as not to unsettle him too much. The weather lets up eventually, turning from a drench to a drip between the fine branches of the cherry blossom tree across the street. The puddles slowly begin to sink in, though there are remnants of dirt collected in the grooves of the pathways due to the overflow. The tree is starting to lose its petals; they float atop the collected areas of water, a hint of hope buoyant atop sorrow like a paper boat.

He isn't at all hungry, but Sakura said he should try to gain weight, so he forces down a very early breakfast of plain rice, tasteless, before he goes to rifle through the box in the closet. He averts his eyes as he lifts the lid, fumbling to turn the photo upside down without looking at it and moving it to the bottom of the container before sifting through Sakura’s letters.

He picks a favorite of his, one she wrote to him while he was passing through the Land of Savanna, the first autumn season of his journey.

Sasuke-kun,

I was so happy to see your hawk on the horizon today. I gave him some water since he had a long journey.

The way you described the grasslands changing color in Savanna was lovely. The trees are changing here, too, shedding all of their leaves and making the roads a sea of color. Naruto slipped on a scarlet one the other day coming out of Ichiraku’s. He almost dragged Hinata with him, but thankfully no one was hurt. That's providence, I suppose, though it's not a red thread.

Soon it will be the season for chestnut-flavored everything. Stout squirrels come next, and Tsukimi will be happening, too. I've only ever seen it here in Konoha and once in Sand, while we were on a mission. You'll have to tell me if the moon looks any different where you are. Don't forget to make a wish.

The air is turning crisp here, like the leaves, so I imagine it will be there, too. Please stay warm.

I miss you.

-Sakura

Sasuke comes to the realization then that he’s sitting in damp clothes, and that he is kind of cold; he hadn't thought to grab his cloak earlier, too overcome with mourning. He carefully puts the letter back, and makes the decision to take a hot shower. The heat makes him feel incrementally better, thawing him from the inside out. It also makes him realize his mouth feels dry; he’s probably dehydrated, and needs to drink more than a weakly brewed half glass of tea. He prepares another cup, stronger this time.

A mission summons arrives around nine. He uses the mirror of his bathroom to make sure he doesn't look too disheveled - the shower helped, he thinks, though he’s slightly pallid - before heading to the Hokage’s office.

He's the first one of those requested to arrive, though not by much. Naruto is sitting in his designated chair with the scroll again, looking for all intents and purposes like he just woke up.

"Teme?! Eh, really?!" The dobe turns in his chair to glare metaphorical daggers at Kakashi, who pointedly ignores him. "You're seriously not sending me with?! Bogus."

Kakashi simply inclines his head towards him, not even sparing Naruto a glance. "Sasuke. Good morning. Ready for a mission?"

He nods mutely, wondering what it could be. Naruto whines some more, but Sasuke tunes him out. There's nothing like his teammate’s complaining that grinds on him in the morning, though he’ll inwardly admit it is helping to coax him back into some sense of normalcy.

His replacement walks through the Hokage’s door next, impassive as always. He inclines his head politely at Sasuke, so he returns the gesture. Naruto heaves a sigh. "Oh, come on!"

Sai doesn't miss a beat, turning to Kakashi, absolutely devoid of any kind of emotion as he delivers Sasuke’s favorite invective. "Is Dickless not coming?"

Sasuke barely manages to suppress a snort as Naruto guffaws, launching an entire container of pens at Sai. "STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Not all of Sai's nicknames are poorly chosen. He loathes the one he has for Sakura, but Sasuke doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing Naruto’s. It improves his mood measurably.

Shikamaru Nara saunters through the doors last, looking extremely apathetic already. Shrewd eyes flick to Sasuke’s momentarily, too quickly for him to read anything from them, then to Sai’s, then to the pens Naruto is picking off the floor, before settling on Kakashi.

Interesting. So it’s the escort mission, after all.

Naruto is outright mad now, glowering but past the point of saying anything as he returns to his seat in silence. It seems he at least knows when to give up, these days.

"Now that I have you all here, I'm afraid I must break the news that this won't be a terribly exciting mission. Simple escort to Sand for our diplomat tomorrow. It may be a bit… overkill, but there will only be three of you on the return trip, and my newest batch of missions didn't have anything terribly exciting in it. It's better to complete something useful with enough time to get back in case we need you for bigger tickets next week; it can't be helped." Kakashi shrugs, before adding, "Sending Sai should shorten the trip and make it less taxing, at least, flying birds and all. Shikamaru will lead, like usual."

Kakashi goes on to disclose that they'll be leaving at dawn tomorrow. Apparently it's only a four day round trip with his replacement's jutsu involved; this means they’ll leave on Tuesday morning and be back on Friday evening, should nothing go awry. It’s not likely that it will; Suna and Konoha are strong allies at this point.

“Any questions?” Kakashi asks at the end of the briefing. Neither Shikamaru nor Sai say anything; he doesn’t, either. An escort is simple enough, especially one of a fellow Shinobi.

His old sensei smiles in a way Sasuke feels is directed mostly at Shikamaru. “Alright, then. Dismissed.”

Nara strolls lackadaisically out of the office as Sai follows. Sasuke gets the inkling that this will be a rather silent journey, between the three of them. He’s a bit thankful he hasn’t been assigned a mission with more talkative comrades, at least not for his first one back.

“Teme!” Naruto pipes up as he turns to leave as well, so Sasuke lingers. “Wanna spar this evening?”

His brows knit together while Kakashi looks between them, as if amused. Sakura has not invited him over for the evening, but he thinks of soft words yesterday anyway.

I missed you, when you were gone. You… can fill as much of my free time as you’d like.

“The day before a mission? You’re stupid. Pass.” Sasuke says, both because he’s hoping to spend the twilight hours with her, too, but also because he knows it will annoy the hell out of Naruto. They really shouldn't go all out the night before one of them leaves for a mission anyways; if one of them breaks something, Sakura will be stuck fixing it, and it’s supposed to be her day off.

Naruto looks miffed, a lone blond brow twitching, so he adds, “...Saturday, early morning. If you’re even awake. Dobe. ”

Before he turns away from Naruto’s spluttering, he catches an all too knowing gleam in Kakashi’s visible eye. Sasuke is suddenly sure that their old sensei is well-acquainted with Sakura’s work schedule. He can feel the hole being burned into the back of his head by blue eyes and a single dark one as he leaves the Hokage’s office, the dobe still struggling to come up with a response to his quick refusal.

He feels marginally better as he walks leisurely back to his apartment, noting along the way that more of the puddles are already beginning to dry up.

Sasuke fixes something more substantial for lunch, since he knows Sakura will eat with Ino; a chicken curry, fragrant with garlic and ginger and carrots, poured atop rice. He doesn’t have any potatoes, so he substitutes with other produce, a unique mix for curry; bell peppers, green onions, and burdock roots. It’s not bad, but maybe he’ll pick up some potatoes when he gets back from Sand.

He is looking forward to going on a mission again, he realizes as he eats. It’s probably going to be a rather routine one - it’s not likely that they’ll face any enemies in friendly territory - but it will be good to be amongst allies again, contributing to fulfilling a purpose, however slight. Sasuke thinks maybe he should make more of an effort to interact with Sai. It appears as though he and Sakura are close, if he’s been to her apartment; Ino was there, too, he supposes, but still.

Sasuke spends the remainder of his time doing the dishes and making sure everything in his fridge is wrapped well, to ensure it doesn’t spoil in the time that he’s gone.

XXX

Sakura’s hair is damp, pink more saturated than it normally is, when he meets her on her doorstep; she must have showered. The scent of mixed berries is renewed, and suddenly he is certain that it has to be some kind of soap, perhaps a body wash. She has her single fiction book in hand.

“Hi,” she says, grinning up at him with a disarming beauty that makes his heart skip. Her hair clings to her neck when she locks her door behind her; Sasuke focuses on a ranunculus bloom instead, noticing that there are two small cuttings of the flowers missing, taken from its rear portion, until she turns back around.

“...Hi.”

“How was your morning?” She questions kindly as they make their way down the stairs and out the glass door, spring sunshine filtering in.

He blinks once as he considers how to answer. “...Fine. I had a mission briefing.”

Sakura’s lips quirk upwards. “Anything exciting?”

He exhales through his nose, a shadow of a laugh. “No. Just an escort.”

Jade eyes twinkle. “Ah, I’m guessing… Sai and Shikamaru.”

“...Kakashi might listen to your squad suggestions more than Naruto’s.”

She chuckles a little. “No, it’s just that he usually sends them for that. You must have replaced Naruto; he’s the third squad cell member, most of the time. Sai’s jutsu makes it a quicker journey, especially with Temari’s fan techniques; she can create updrafts.”

Sasuke thinks he vaguely remembers a blonde woman who is Gaara’s sister; that must be the diplomat. The sibling of the Kazekage would be well-suited for such a job.

“...Maybe I’ll find out what’s in Sand.”

She smiles while biting her lip. She’s very pretty.

“Maybe,” she finally offers cryptically.

They weave through the road on their way to the library, taking care to avoid the water still lingering; it has sunken into the earth for the most part by now.

Sasuke checks out three books this time. One is another on historical samurai, this one with more illustrations as he’d wanted. The second is a historical account of the establishment of Nunogakure, in the Land of Silk. He had passed through the country twice, and had always been interested in learning more about its history, given the establishment of its hidden village by kunoichi and their record of hostility with the ruling daimyos. The third is a fiction book about an old man at sea, suggested to him by Ichika as she scans Sakura’s books, then his.

“It’s kind of proverbial, and not terribly lengthy. You seem like the type who would like it,” the librarian offers, so he adds it to his pile. It’s not quite an old lady giving him vaguely prophesying teacups, but it sounds interesting enough. He appreciates her kindness; not everyone in Konoha gives him this particular brand of easy acceptance after the debacle that was his past. Sasuke thinks perhaps showing up with Sakura helps. Ichika looks at his empty sleeve for a long moment this time; she must not have noticed the last time he was here, the unfilled end of it hidden by the counter.

Sakura says there’s a spot towards the slope of Hokage Rock that drains off the cliff, a hill that should be dry enough to sit on, so they meander upwards. It’s on the western side, just at the juncture where the grass begins to give way to harsher stone. A wild cherry blossom tree that he spotted from a half mile away is clinging to the precipice, a bit off the beaten path. It must have sturdy roots, he thinks, reaching deep into the dirt and bedrock to give it the strength to soar upwards even here on uneven ground.

As they near it, he observes that it’s losing its petals, too, late in blooming like the one across the street from his apartment; small green buds are starting to take the flowers’ place.

They read for a bit under its branches, sprawled out on the hillside. She was right; the ground is dry here, already soaked into the soil or run off the slope. It’s not too warm or cool out, an enjoyable spring day where everything is freshly watered. The book Ichika recommended is pretty good, full of oceanic metaphors, some of which he finds unnervingly relevant. Sakura might like it; it’s written somewhat artfully. He gets about a third of the way through its pages as the sun begins to hang lower in the sky.

It’s around four when he allows his focus to wander away from his book to her. He's been leaning up against the tree, in the only spot someone could; the rest of the area by the trunk is too asperous to sit comfortably, roots twisting ruggedly, but strong. Much stronger than white lilies, hardy enough to weather even the harshest storms. Sakura is on her back a few feet away, book open above her and pink hair settled in a halo on the grass. She looks extremely comfortable, as if lying like this in the small amount of shade offered is something she does all the time. Maybe this is a place she visits often.

Her book is titled Hazel Wood; he can tell by the cover it must be fiction, but he's not sure what exactly it's about. He's thinking maybe he’ll ask her later. He's also thinking maybe he should ask if she wants to do something after this; he would like to, if she's free.

She shifts slightly, and he slides his eyes to the skyline so he doesn't get caught staring, very suddenly becoming conscious of the fact that he’s been admiring her for the better part of a few minutes. When he looks back over warily, she is picking up a stray petal and situating it between the pages, sticking out like a bookmark to mark her place. Then she regards him, smiling like she's amused.

He arches a brow, unsure what could be funny, but she's setting her closed book neatly aside and pushing afoot to close the distance between them. He tilts his head up towards her as she walks to the tree trunk, and then she's reaching out. Two fingertips skim his scalp, and then she's handing him a cherry blossom petal that evidently had been caught there.

"A bookmark, if you want one," she offers, her expression saying she is incredibly entertained.

He blinks once before taking it, lone hand brushing hers for a millisecond. He's distracted by how soft her fingertips feel again.

"...Thank you." He puts the petal in his book to mark his spot as she straightens.

Now would be an opportune time to query her evening plans, but she beats him to it. "Would you want to stop by the market quick with me and then come over for dinner?" Comely green melts into charcoal when he looks up. "I was thinking of making teriyaki atsuage and cucumber salad, but I'm out of cucumber."

His agreement is immediate, insides twisting pleasantly.

As they head down the hill together to beat the evening rush, books in hand, a single crow passes overhead, swooping low towards the center of the village extending before them.

That’s providence, he thinks, though it’s not a red thread. He stares at it like he’s seen a ghost until it disappears.

He helps her cook this time. Sakura handles the cutting and chopping while Sasuke seasons and turns the tofu as it fries in one of her pans, mixing together mirin and soy sauce to create the teriyaki dressing while she slices cucumbers and tosses them with other ingredients; she loads the salad with peanuts, sauces, garlic, and red chile flakes.

It’s another gratifying evening together. They play three rounds of chess this time, and it’s just as challenging as go; she cycles through positions intuitively, sometimes with seemingly little thought involved. Sasuke thinks she might be analyzing her next moves in her head during his turns, having a few planned out and simply narrowing it down based on whether he moves a rook or a pawn. He comes close to winning the final match, at least. With more practice, he might win once in a while.

Sakura offers to make tea again, after. He accompanies her to the kitchen, and when she opens the cupboard, his throat closes, because two new jars of loose leaf sencha from the tea shop have mysteriously appeared, one for the caffeinated shelf and one for the decaffeinated shelf.

Sakura’s expression is tentative. “I thought maybe sencha this evening. I… picked some up on my way back from lunch, earlier today.”

He nods weakly, tongue-tied and endlessly grateful.

She makes some for the both of them, finishing off her own with sugar and honey. Sasuke watches her swirl the spoon in the now fading luster of her kitchen, thinking the way she takes her tea is like her very being, so sweet.

Verdant eyes peek up at him when she walks him to her entryway, hours later. He sincerely hopes that she’s enjoying spending time with him as much as he is with her.

Then, Sakura’s voice lilts up to him, a quiet murmur, "Will you… come see me, when you get back?"

He blinks, sugar and honey pouring into him now, because it’s almost an answer to the question in his head that he hadn’t vocalized. Then his brow furrows, because maybe he’s failed at conveying that he'll spend literally any amount of time with her that she allows him. Sasuke knows his communication skills aren’t the best, and he has never been in any sort of romantic relationship, so everything is new territory, stunted by his lack of practice.

Her gaze flits away from him. "Just… so I know you're okay."

Oh. She means coming to see her right after debriefing, so she'll know he's returned safe. Something pleasant pools in his belly, sinking to the extremities in a way that feels nurturing. He realizes he is taking too much time to respond; she looks nervous.

"I will."

Jade centers back on him, reassured now, and he's not sure how he's going to go four days without it, this limitless green that soothes him to no end.

"Oh. Good. Thank you." Her expression changes to one that is considerably more relaxed, a tender look directed upwards that he has never seen her wear for anyone else.

Sasuke presses his lips to hers for a long time before he departs, a soft goodbye he’s hoping will convey all the words that are caught in his throat, gratitude and affection that have been stewing there since they were thirteen.

He thinks he feels love press back from hers, a delicate flickering that makes him ache, and perhaps providence. Sugar and honey, too. Sweetness doesn’t hurt him like the recall of pastries does, when it’s experienced secondhand like this.

XXX

The mission goes smoothly. Sai's jutsu does speed things up considerably, and the Sand delegate, Temari, uses her giant fan to give them a boost in places that are lacking in higher gales. He rides with Sai on the way there, while Shikamaru and Temari drift on the other; Sasuke thinks the separation must be so she can use the jutsu, strategically getting behind his replacement's bird to give him a boost before Sai can control it and have theirs catch the subsequent updraft, too.

Sasuke and Shikamaru fulfill lookout roles, him scanning ahead and Shikamaru scanning behind. It is refreshing to see the land from above, giving way from forests to grasslands to the beginnings of desert edges. He finds himself thinking about what his hawk saw, all of the times he brought correspondence to and from Sakura. It’s not as hot this way, traveling through the air with breeze ripping around them, though they make an effort to stay hydrated, still.

Sai is quiet, but Sasuke is, too, so he can't knock him for it. He wonders, scanning the horizon for the upteenth time, if Sai knows what's in Sand that interests their squad leader. He would have to, dating Ino, but he doesn't feel comfortable asking him something like that.

They spend most of the first day in relative silence, only spying a single squad of comrade ninja from Suna traveling hundreds of feet below them, just leaving the desert. Towards the end of it, as they finally cross into the first area that is truly all sand as far as the eye can see, Sai surprises him by speaking.

"Beautiful says Ugly is stupid happy that you've returned. I am certain that Dickless is, too."

The effect the words have on him is a little jarring and complex. There is the immediate familiar disdain for Sai’s inaccurate nickname for Sakura, intermixed with immature amusement at Naruto's epithet. A feeling of brotherhood follows, and his heart blooming with something tender, vines twisting or perhaps not-so-dead roots getting another drink. Stupid happy doesn’t sound like a phrase common to Sai’s vernacular, leading him to believe it was Ino’s exact wording, likely after spending the morning with Sakura yesterday.

He thinks it over as they soar over the last bit of terrain for the day, sorting through the different emotions. His answer isn't hesitant; it just takes preparation for him to muster the gall to vocalize it to someone he's not terribly close to.

"...I am, too." It’s an understatement.

XXX

They arrive back in Konoha on Friday evening, as scheduled. No issues, just more lookout duty and enjoyable wind offering relief from the heat. Peacetime is nice; anyone they saw to or from Sand was an ally, no foes. They only utilize one of Sai’s creations on the return trip, Shikamaru still observing the rear but this time atop the same bird as them. It’s a slightly longer trip, without the diplomat to speed things up, but they still make good time.

It's a bit after six when they leave Kakashi’s office, mission report paperwork folded neatly into his satchel. Naruto wasn't there; Sasuke assumes he's either been sent on a mission or has gone home for the day already. He supposes he’ll find out tomorrow, if a banging erupts on his apartment door after sunrise. It must have stormed again recently; the soil is damp, and everything is faintly greener than it was before.

He finds he missed it, the smell just after it rains that was decidedly not present in Suna, even if it does bring hard memories.

“Good work,” Shikamaru says simply to both of them as they step outside, ready to go their respective ways. It’s not necessary for him to say it, but Sasuke appreciates the acknowledgement. He’s aware it is probably not easy to trust him, after everything. Not everyone has the same confidence in him as Team Seven does.

Sai nods towards Shikamaru, then turns to him.

"Tell Ugly I say hi." His tone sounds almost kind as he turns to part ways from them in the street. Shikamaru glances at Sasuke for an instant, expression not containing an ounce of surprise, but he doesn't say anything as he turns to head the other way.

Tentatively, Sasuke starts out in the direction of Sakura’s apartment. She should be home right now, if she didn’t stay late at the hospital. He wonders as he gets closer if maybe he should wait a bit; she might be in the middle of cooking, or eating dinner.

He wants to see her, though. He's missed her greatly, and she did say to come by; he tries very hard to swallow his doubts.

Soon he's knocking on a sage green door that is beginning to look familiar. The plants are still damp indoors, too; maybe it rained as recently as this morning. It has to have been overcast for a good portion of the day, for the sunlight through the diamond window to not have dried the moisture from her watering them just yet.

Sakura opens the door wearing a smile; it grows wider upon seeing it's him, like she can’t help it.

His heart skips a beat when she says his name. "Sasuke-kun."

"Sakura."

She steps aside while holding the door open, a silent invitation for him to come in, so he does. He stands in her entryway uncertainly for a second, until she offers, "I'm making tenmusu; there's enough for two. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Everything in him relaxes, any and all ambiguity dried by her kindness in an instant. "...I would. Thank you."

Little flecks of gold shimmer in the lamplight, facets atop something burgeoning with warmth. There is love there, in her eyes and upturned lips. He wonders if she can see it in his, if she has any idea of the true gravity of his feelings for her, all of the things that flare to life in his belly at the mere thought of time spent here.

It’s a break in routine, but there is something he would really like to do, something he has been working up the courage for over the past few days, so he takes the risk, pulse quickening; he hasn't kissed her anything but farewell yet, really, aside from their first, which was somewhere in the middle.

It is better than he imagined, vespertine devotion saying hello rather than goodbye. He skims the freckle on her cheek again as his lips brush hers, hand tender against her skin and silky pink locks. When she leans into his touch, he finds himself wishing there was a way for his soul to graze hers, to tell her the utterly selfish thing he wished for after her letter so many moons ago. Sakura’s soul would be warm to the touch, he thinks, like freshly-brewed tea or the flux of a summer monsoon, but much more illimitable, and endlessly ardent.

Her hands on his shoulders are becoming a familiar weight, grounding him like the roots of her namesake.

When they part, she blinks up at him once, and then suddenly her arms are wrapping around his center instead of his shoulders, pulling him close. His heart swells, and he hooks his lone arm around her waist.

She smells like home, he realizes. "...Tadaima," he murmurs against her hair.

"Okaeri," she responds, soft and sweet against his chest.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #like gold #fanfiction #2nd longest chapter to date idk how it got this long it just kinda happened lmao #also the paper boats scene was like one of the first four passages i wrote that ultimately became this fic #anyways that's providence

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mccall-me-maurice · 3 years

Text

The fic idea nobody asked for but me: Simon doing Roger’s makeup

Pairing: Simon x Roger, Implied Jack x Ralph

Word Count: 2,093

Warnings: None that I can think of at the moment

Roger likes to think he’s gotten pretty good at doing makeup. It has been a constant hobby since he was 15. He usually just wears eyeliner, seeing as it was the easiest thing to put on his face in a small amount of time. It also suits his look.

Recently, his friends have been teasing him about it for months on end, Ralph finding it hilarious that Roger actually spent time on his appearance. Not that nobody else in the house wore makeup, they pretty much all did, but Roger of all people seemed to come as a pleasant shock to them. He had initially flipped Ralph off, silently sending Jack a look that screamed help me. Jack had then laughed at him, in classic Jack manner, and retreated to his room, loud enough to wake the only other housemate, Simon.

Perhaps it was because Roger worked at a beat up club that he just enjoyed the darkness on his eyelids as the shitty blue lights hit them. He really didn’t have an explanation. He never had thought he needed one. Nobody saw him put it on, and nobody saw him without it. He usually only saw the other 3 housemates between shifts when he was scrambling for food and then running out the door. Simon, Jack, and Ralph had never been really active with Roger anyways, it wasn’t a super big deal.

However, today was different. Roger couldn’t seem to fall into his very simple routine, starting the eyeliner over time and time again. He ended up swearing violently and facing the fact that he desperately needed someone else to do it. He went looking for his closest friend, but Jack had recruited Ralph to put makeup on his face, the blond scoffing at every given time when Jack flinched, so he couldn’t rely on the redhead anymore. In fact, Ralph looked so concentrated on Jack’s face that the raven haired boy was actually too intimidated to interrupt them. Just to ensure he didn’t get a brush in the eye, because Ralph did get very violent at times. Which meant Simon. Roger wasn’t even sure if the boy would talk to him, let alone help him. It was no secret Simon’s lifestyle differed heavily from his. Between lip rings, dark eyeshadow, and tattoos, he was basically everything the softer boy hated. But he was faced with no choice because if he didn’t get his eyeliner done, and soon, he wouldn’t be ready to go out with Ralph and Jack.

So he approaches the tan boy’s door, heartbeat in his ears and lays two very soft knocks on the wood. It’s opened almost immediately and Simon is standing there, a smile on his lips that quivers when he sees who is at the door.

“Roger? You usually don’t knock. Or talk to me at all… What’s up?” Simon leans against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. The raven haired boy just inhales, trying not to break under the somewhat scrutinising gaze. He really doesn’t want to snap at Simon, but with the look he’s getting, he’s not sure how much longer he’ll last. Although, he’s always been one to assume with the boy. Simon was just someone he could never figure out, from the day they met till this very moment. He would never ever know how Simon Cortés felt, and it annoyed him more than anything on this planet ever could.

“Just want to ask a favour. Do you know how to do eyeliner?” The look in the shorter boy’s eyes softens almost immediately, as if he was on edge before. Like Roger would hurt him. Now, he’s loosened his stance and is even giving the other boy what could be a genuine smile. He steps aside and for the first time since they’ve moved in together, Roger walks into Simon’s room.

He really doesn’t know what he expected, but whatever it was it’s what he got. Little succulents line his windowsill, sunlight streaming through the windows. His curtains are lace at the bottom, so dainty that Roger wonders where he could’ve possibly bought them. Everything else about the room follows the theme. The area above his bed has a ginormous collage of photos, taking up the entire wall. Roger doesn’t remember taking them, but there are photos with him, Jack, Ralph, and Simon in it. Simon clearly took it, because he’s closest to the camera and is mid-laughter, Jack is also laughing, but in between his teeth is an apple slice that also sits between Ralph’s, who’s smiling like a fool. And for some reason, Simon’s gaze is on Roger, who is throwing a peace sign up and giving him one of the only smiles Roger’s ever given anyone. It’s a really nice photo, and Roger is tempted to take it. But his gaze gets caught on a section of photos of Roger, all at the club he works at. He has to admit he looks really good under the lights, but it doesn’t explain why Simon took the photos. He didn’t even realise the boy had kept them, he had just asked Roger to pose and took a couple polaroids. Everything else is people Roger has met in passing, Sam and Eric, Peter, and Percival. He never really cared enough to get to know them outside of a ‘hello’. But they all seem so happy up on Simon’s wall that he wonders if the boy himself is their source of joy.

“Lay down on the bed, I’ll go grab my eyeliner from the bathroom. And a couple of makeup wipes because I might mess up once or twice.” Simon gestures to the strawberry comforter that lines his bed and leaves Roger alone in the room, the bathroom door wide open as he rummages through drawers. The older boy does as he’s told, lying down on his back, eyes trained on the ceiling. There are little cracks and crevices in it, probably because the house is older than all of them. Roger’s hands clasp over his stomach and it occurs to him that he has no idea why Simon didn’t ask him to sit upright. It’s how Ralph always does Jack’s makeup, so he can get a better view of the boy's face and complete control. Unless Simon is planning on doing it from the sides, which makes a little sense but his bed is pressed against the wall.

“Can I sit on you?” Roger almost bolts upright from the shock of Simon’s words. It’s an innocent question, but the raven haired boy has no fucking idea what he could mean.

“Um. Sure?” Simon closes Roger’s eyes with his fingers, and weight is applied to the boy’s middle, what the younger one meant finally hitting him. He can’t see Simon, but his best guess is that he’s straddling Roger, leaning forwards so he can get the best angle. It’s horribly cliché, but knowing Simon, his intentions are pure and he doesn’t mean anything romantic by it.

“You have really nice eyes. I mean like. For makeup application. Mine are more hooded so nothing really shows up all that well. Not to mention you just have a nice face. Sorry, you probably can’t respond right now.” Roger exhales harshly to mimic laughter, trying to stay as still as he can so Simon can do whatever he needs to. A brush is pressed against underneath his eye and what he assumes is pigment is spread around.

“Look up. Like open your eyes and look up.” Roger does as told, seeing Simon’s concentrated stare before he does it. He really wants to talk to Simon, but his mouth stops working and all he can do is focus on the soft brush strokes. So Simon fills the silence for him. “I’m assuming Ralph is working on Jack and that’s why you came to me. Probably for the better, Jack doesn’t know what looks good under those lights. Not that I do, I just have photos for reference of what does and doesn’t work. But you know, whatever works and whatever doesn’t. Did you notice you look good with red and orange underneath your eyes? Like a blushy colour. Makes your eyes pop.” He doesn’t mind Simon’s rambles, with the occasional gentle fingers over his eyelids to close them. He’s actually quite entertained by the boy as he happily draws a line of black over Roger’s eyelid.

“And instead of eyeliner on the bottom, I’ll do a charcoal colour because it. Looks. Better.” Roger smiles and almost immediately regrets it because he has no idea whether he just messed the poor boy up or not. He lets his face relax again, praying Simon wouldn’t be offended by the lack of a reaction. Instead, the tan boy taps his cheek twice, which means he needs to open his eyes, and looks down at him, smiling. They’re uncomfortably close, seeing as Roger usually doesn’t let even Jack get within a foot of his face. Simon is about 6 inches away and the raven haired boy can see everything. How the green in his eyes mimics the trees in a forest, the dimple on Simon’s left cheek that shows up whenever he smiles, the faint blush dusted across his nose, how strands of his hair are falling down his face, everything. He’s sure the boy can see everything about his face too, but he’s been looking at it for some time now. Roger has barely opened his eyes, and when he does he certainly wasn’t looking at Simon. More like up at the top of his bed.

“It looks good. A real shame you’re going to wash it off later.” He shifts from Roger’s waist to grab a mirror and hold it up, letting the raven haired boy finally see what he had done. And Roger’s breath is taken away. Everything that he doesn’t like about how he looks seems to have disappeared. He’s honestly baffled at how good his roommate is at doing makeup, because he’s never seen Simon in any. “I did eyeliner, eyeshadow on the underneath of your eyes in that coral colour I was talking about, and smoked out the harsh lines of the eyeliner a little bit with the charcoal colour. Then I put little dabs of white in the inner corners and on the brow bone. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s great. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime! It’s a shame you’re going with Ralph and Jack. I mean, they were planning on going out with all 3 of you, but I kinda wish you could stay. Maybe it would make the house feel less lonely, y’know? Plus they’re kind of in that awkward flirting stage. More power to you for going with them, I could never put up with the longing stares and the footsie from across the table. Think I’d snap at them to get it over with if anything.” Simon shifts himself off of Roger, the area feeling oddly cold now that the other boy’s body heat left him. Roger sits up, watching as Simon makes his way to the bathroom to put everything away.

“I um. I could always stay. I don’t really like being with them either. The whole flirting thing makes me feel sick too. Maybe we could just… throw a movie on my laptop and make some popcorn?” Simon beams at him like Roger never thought anyone could and the butterflies in his stomach finally make an appearance. But no, he doesn’t like Simon. Not like how Jack likes Ralph. Just friends. Just friends.

“I’d love to! But then I did your makeup for nothing.” Simon gives him a small pout, almost as if he really wanted Roger to show off his face to the world. As if he really wanted everyone else to see what he had done, how he had turned a solid 6 into a 10.

“I mean, the person who did it should be the person who gets to see it the most, right?” Simon stares at Roger, eyes crinkled from his smile before, in one swift movement, pecking both of the boy’s cheeks. His lips are impossibly soft and Roger can’t breathe, his heartbeat is right there in his ears and his face is probably bright red. Simon looks up at him, a look in his eyes that just seems euphoric. He gives Roger a soft smile, green eyes meeting purple ones.

“I think you’re right. It should only be me.”

Okay, so maybe they’re more than ‘just friends’.

#lotf #lord of the flies #lotf rogermon #lotf roger #lotf simon #my writing #fanfiction #rogermon #lotf jalph #lotf jack #jack merridew #lotf ralph #jalph #why am i writing so much #no pls stop me #pls pls

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softmakoharus · 4 years

Text

makoharu story: day off

(based on the new art) imagine haru calls makoto one evening. m: ah, i was just about to call to ask if you want to hang out tomorrow, since it's our day off. h: i was calling for the same reason. m: (laughs) then i guess the answer is yes. there's this place tono-kun told me about. h: a cafe? m: it's a cafe where you can also play board games, darts, pool— h: pool? m: (laughs) like billiards. h: oh. m: it's for socializing, but i don't think people will be there early. h: ok. it doesn't really sound that interesting to haru, but he'll go if makoto wants to. m: was there somewhere you wanted to go? h: there's a new coral reef exhibit at the aquarium. m: ok! we could do that first and then the other place for lunch. h: sure. m: i'll meet you at your place in the morning. h: around 11? m: got it! see you then, haru. h: see you.

the next morning, they meet as planned and have a good time at the aquarium. haru was completely captivated by the colorful fish, and makoto couldn't stop himself from taking a lot of pictures of haru happily watching them. >>🐟 aquarium details 🐠<< on the train ride, makoto pulls up the cafe's menu so they can decide what to order for lunch. when they arrive, they're in awe of how nice it looks. soft sunlight shines in, illuminating everything with a gentle glow. it gives a relaxing and refreshing feel to the place. m: it seems we're the only ones here. h: mm. just us and... plants. m: (laughs) there are a lot. i wonder if they sell any. h: you don't need more. m: i'd like to get a big one for the balcony. h: just take one. they won't notice. m: (laughs) you're going to get us kicked out. h: should we order our food? m: i’ll do that. you can sit down. h: you don’t have to get mine... m: it’s fine! i kind of dragged you here. mackerel confit, right? h: right. m: ok, i'll meet you at the table. haru takes a seat near the pool table as an older couple walks in. the woman sits down at a small table next to the window, while the man grabs a jigsaw puzzle from the shelf. haru gets the impression that they must come here often, and he smiles while trying not to watch too intently. makoto soon returns holding bubble tea and a coffee cup. m: i asked and they said they only sell little succulents. h: like the ones on your desk? m: mm. why are you looking at me funny? h: bubble tea. is that why you wanted to come here? m: (laughs) well it was one of the factors. try your coffee. h: why are you being pushy? m: no reason! go ahead. h: suspicious. what is it? m: a new flavor they have. haru takes a sip. m: pumpkin spice. h: it’s good. what flavor did you get? m: pumpkin spice. h: popular flavor. m: (laughs) it is. do you want to try playing pool while we wait? h: you know how? m: there’s a place close to campus i’ve been to a couple times after class. i’ll teach you! h: oh, ok. makoto grabs a pool stick and hands one to haru. m: so to start, i’ll break, and then we’ll go from there. he positions the cue ball and leans down to take the shot but hits it too lightly, and the ball barely moves. m: ah... i’ll try again. h: is that allowed? m: (laughs) i think it's ok for new players. makoto hits it harder this time. the balls scatter, and haru stares a little too long at makoto's face that's beaming with pride. m: ah! one of them went in! h: (smiles) good job. m: oh, thanks. makoto blushes and rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed to be praised so blatantly by haru. h: i mean, nothing went flying off the table. yet. m: (laughs) i know my own strength! h: we'll see. makoto bends over to take another shot and successfully hits the blue #10 into the side pocket. this time, he doesn't react. haru can't help but marvel at how professional he suddenly looks. even though it's just a friendly game, he's become incredibly serious and focused. makoto puts his hand on his chin and ponders, thinking before taking another shot. this one is unsuccessful. m: ah, your turn. since i'm stripes, you're solids. h: maybe i wanted stripes. m: (laughs) it's too late for that! h: if i lose, that's why. m: (laughs) fair enough. haru smiles and spots what should be an easy shot. he tries to mimic how makoto was shooting, but it feels unusual enough that it can't be right. how does he place his hand on the table? how hard does he hit? why is he so nervous?! m: are you trying for the purple one? h: mm. makoto steps around to haru's left side and bends down beside him, as if he were about to take the shot himself. haru tightens his grip on the pool stick when he feels makoto reach over his back to set his own hand right behind haru's. m: hold it kind of loosely. h: r-right. m: and your other hand can go like this. makoto gently pulls haru's left hand over a little, positioning it behind the cue ball. he moves the tip of the pool stick to demonstrate how it glides over the top. m: (blushes) see? your hand makes a bridge. h: (blushes) got it. makoto folds his arms on the table and continues to lean down next to haru. haru exhales, and in an act of utter stupidity, he makes the mistake of glancing at makoto. his face is so close! and he looks so cute!! haru can tell he's sincerely hoping the ball makes it in. determined to elicit a proud smile and perhaps a congratulatory high five, haru returns his focus and— SHIT. somehow the cue ball jumps into the air and flies off the table. too much determination! h: s-sorry! makoto quickly fetches the ball, placing it back where it was. m: (smiles) i guess you don't know your own strength. haru can't conceal his smile at the playful jab. h: shut up. m: it was actually a good shot. h: it obviously wasn't. m: (laughs) no, really! just flatten your hand a little, and use less of an angle this time. haru sighs, frustrated, and bends down again to line up the shot. he does as makoto suggested. the ball he was aiming for just barely misses the pocket. m: ah, so close! h: did you set that up for me? m: what? h: your shot before. it didn't even come close to hitting anything. m: (laughs nervously) just a coincidence. h: i see. well, it's your turn again. m: oh, right. makoto surveys the table, pausing, thinking, planning. the intensity in his face shows that he's not holding back at all, and it makes haru's heart beat rapidly. the view from where haru stands is perfection. he doesn't want to take his eyes off of him, but he must, just for a second, so that he can take advantage of makoto's focus. he turns and quickly grabs his phone without being noticed and takes a picture as makoto leans down. he hopes the camera was able to capture not only makoto's resolve, but also the way his shirt hangs from his chest, the slightest narrowing of his eyes, and the small twitch of his forearm muscles. maybe that's asking too much. he'd be better off just hoping it's not blurry. really, a video would have been better. then he'd also have makoto's small satisfied smile when he makes the shot feeling haru's gaze, makoto looks up and sees him smiling. m: what? h: nothing. m: (smiles) what is it? h: you're a... what do they call it? pool shark. m: (laughs) shut up, i'm not that good. i haven't played much. h: you keep saying that. m: it's true! h: it's a little annoying. m: what is? h: how quickly you catch on to things like this. sports and games, that sort of thing. m: it's just hitting a ball with a stick. h: no, i can see you strategizing where to hit it. and you did set me up for that shot before. m: well, i might have... haru smiles again. it's too embarrassing to say something like "it's an admirable trait" or "you're amazing." he blushes, realizing he already said too much. back in school, their gym classes would rotate different activities and sports. somehow, makoto had a natural talent and enjoyment for all of them. he could have done anything, but he chose swimming—or rather, he chose haru. even back then, haru couldn't help but notice that. h: don't go easy on me. m: (laughs) i had to give you a chance. h: i got it now. m: ok. they continue the game while they wait for their food. haru starts to feel more like he's gotten the hang of it and even makes a few shots himself, but he's no match for makoto. they clean up and sit back down at their table. m: that was fun, right? h: it wasn't bad. makoto smiles and takes a sip of his bubble tea. the intense focus from before is gone for now. haru knows this cute smiling makoto makes his heart beat rapidly, too. m: maybe i'll tell tono-kun to invite us the next time he comes here. we could play on teams. h: you want me on your team? m: of course! h: we'll lose for sure. m: (laughs) no we won't! anyway, i don't care if we win or not as long as we can play together. h: (blushes) oh... m: i'm going to look around a little. i want to see what games they have. h: ok. haru watches him walk away. it's clear makoto planned this from the start and brought haru here alone so he could get a feel for the place without anyone else to bother them. that way, he'd feel more comfortable coming out when this place is busier. sneaky, but also effective. haru smiles a little as he realizes he's actually kind of looking forward to it.in fact, he and makoto should probably come back again soon to get in some more practice. makoto pulls a book from one of the shelves and starts to read it. quickly, haru grabs his phone. this is revenge for all the pictures makoto took of him at the aquarium. that's all. it's not like he's going to look at these later, repeatedly. maybe he should take a few more. makoto returns to the table just as the food arrives and sets down a box beside their plates. h: what's this? m: triple chocolate mousse! i ordered it impulsively at the last second. h: (smiles) i mean the game. m: oh! (laughs) does it look familiar? we played it a lot as kids. h: ah... that's right, i remember. the objective is to visit all the animals at the zoo. we're a little old for this. m: well, there's not really any strategy involved, so we have an even playing field. h: what's that supposed to mean? m: (laughs) either of us could win. h: fine, if i win, you have to let me buy lunch tomorrow. m: and what if i win? h: i'll buy lunch tomorrow. m: (laughs) ok. do you want to come back here? h: sure. m: oh, before i forget. makoto gets up and crouches beside haru to take a picture together. he returns to his seat. h: are you messaging that to someone? m: tono-kun. later will you send me the pictures you took? h: (blushes) me? i didn't— i didn't take any. m: really? the one when i was playing? and just now when i was standing over there? h: oh... those pictures. i forgot. m: (laughs) mm. h: are you going to make a photo album? m: there's a website that can print them into books. i thought it would be a nice way to organize my pictures. h: it's a good idea. m: actually, i... (blushes) i was going to give you one. h: really? m: it kind of became a book about us. h: (blushes) i have more pictures i can send you. m: ok! i'll bring my laptop tomorrow and show you what i have so far. h: (smiles) sure. they both return their attention to their food, finishing their meals in silence, embarrassment mitigated by unrelenting happiness. haru glances to the older couple finishing their puzzle. he supposes he'll see them again tomorrow. he smiles at how easy it is to imagine him and makoto in their places. that will be them someday. maybe not here, but definitely together, continuing to make memories with each other.

#free!#makoharu #THIRSTY HARU #i love the new art so much #i love makoharu so much #kelly's makoharu stories #my post

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ask-wofreimagined · 5 years

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Wof Gardens

SkyWings: Not many SkyWings have the space or interest to go into gardening, but traditional SkyWing gardens consist of native wildflowers and ferns. Where there wasn’t dirt to grow traditional flowers, mosses were cultivated instead to bring more life to the grey mountain side. Bright, warm colored flowers were imported and usually kept in more indoor or carefully cultivated gardens, with roses growing over walls being a particular favorite decoration for noble and royal SkyWings.

MudWings: MudWings don’t as much create gardens as they just leave some portions of the swamp untouched within their larger cities. For MudWings that do have a special love of plants they’ll move extra cattails and water lilies near in the waters near their home, or even try growing swamp lilies and other flowers on their mud huts. It’s not uncommon to find a mud hut that’s overgrown and blooming with different plants on the outside.

SeaWings: Coral and kelp gardening is quite common within the Sea Kingdom. Kelp and sea grass are lower maintenance plants which for good casual gardens and decoration. Dragons who want more of a challenge take care of coral, and usually make entire functioning artificial reefs. Reef keeping is much more difficult as it usually involves having to deal with an actual ecosystem, but for the enthusiasts it’s all worth it.

RainWings: RainWings adore plants, and almost every dragon has some kind of exotic flower or fruit tree placed on or around their homes. Their gardens normally aren’t very organized and they just let the flowers spread out wherever. Gardens that are more carefully regulated, like the royal garden, usually hold food-bearing plants or very rare plants.

NightWings: Gardening didn’t exist on the volcano, though they’re starting to follow the RainWings lead in their new home. In the old kingdom gardens were much like those of humans humans, organized and well regulated unlike the more wild and overgrown kind other tribes have. They grew a mixture of forest and desert plants, taking in flowers and ferns along with cacti. Night-blooming plants were particularly popular within the tribe.

SandWings: Though gardening is hard when not around an oasis it’s popular where it can be done. Oasis towns are known for their blooming flora decorating the sides of streets and outsides of homes. Exotic flowers, cacti, and other succulents grow between scattered palm trees, carefully cultivated by SandWings hoping to give life to the desert town. The royal garden is by far the greenest and most lively part of the desert, some even rumor that it’s beauty is attributed to an ancient animus’ gift.

IceWings: IceWings find plants unnattractive and despise the bunches of wildflowers that appear in the warmer regions of the kingdom during the summer. They’re more likely to freeze a flower over than take care of it.

#wings of fire #wof #not an ask #wof au #wof headcanon #wof headcanons #nightwing #nightwings #icewing #sandwing #rainwing #seawing #mudwing #skywing #worldbuilding

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the-kings-of-games · 4 years

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The Inhabitants of the Mountain Valley of Neo Domino

Or: The Signers Reimagined With Influences from Eastern Asian Mythology

Introduction

In the mountain valley of New Domino, there live some of the most powerful beings in this world. The path there is treacherous as the road is windy and a heavy fogs covers over it like a veil, and the large pillar like mountains stand tall and old even at a distance. The nearby villages and towns know better than to wonder close to it, and elders warn their children of the dangers—the spirits and the demons—that inhabit the valley. However, if one were to go and manage a way on that road and through the fog, there are wonders to behold—for gods and heavenly beings walk on the earth in that valley and call it home.

Jack, the Dragon Prince of Hearth

In the valley, the bowels of the earth are found in the hidden great lake, and it is there that the royal family of the sea go to nest their newborns. It is rare that a lord or lady of the Dragon Palace leaves for that place, perhaps once every five hundred years, but each one of them seeks the fiery nest under that great lake. For millennia, the princes and princesses of the dragon king have been hatched there, and it was no different for Jack, the youngest of the royal brood. Yet he is different. For the fires of the earth had imbued him with a power so unlike a being of the sea. His heart was made a hearth, and so his soul burns, the power within him seen only once before.

Unwelcomed by the Dragon Palace, Jack's home has always been that great lake, and its very water only strengthens him, nurturing him like a mother. He's grown beautiful over the past few centuries, and though his kind stays away from him, other creatures of the sea flock to him, mermaids, naiads, and minor gods among them. He doesn't mind their company, but often, he leaves the comfort of home to seek his bond brothers and friends.

That is the time when a mortal could wish to see him. No other dragon has coral antlers and scales as pure and white as he.

Luna & Leo, Immortals of the Ancient Fairy Dragon

They were traveling with their parents, rich and intelligent people, through the country side in the dead of winter. The ground was frozen, and no flowers bloomed. Nothing should be growing. And yet they came across a peach tree that bore two pink fruits, just ready to be eaten. Leo saw it and wanted them, and so he climbed that tree onto a branch, throwing one down to his sister. Together, they took the bite, and it was the most delicious thing they had ever eaten, its taste succulent and bursting with flavor. Soon, there was nothing but the pit left, and Leo was about to climb down. Then came a terrible noise, and suddenly, both branch and boy fell. So young and small, he died instantly, and Luna was in tears.

That was then when a spirit of the nature appeared, the Ancient Fairy Dragon, who told Luna that she and her brother had been trusted with a sacred duty. Having eaten the peach of the immortality before his death, Leo came back to life, well and unhurt. Thankful, the twins agreed to leave their mortal lives behind, and they were guided to the high mountain valley of New Domino where the body of the Ancient Fairy Dragon remains. It is through them that hope to return her to the mortal plane is rekindled. Through their laughter and dedication, she can regain her powers.

How long ago was it since they arrived? It's hard to tell; since their arrival, neither twin has grown, but no doubt that more than one lifetime has passed.

Akiza, Cultivator of the Knowledge of Healing

The first mortal in decades to ever safely arrive at the high mountain valley of Neo Domino, Akiza came to live among the gods and heavenly beings in order to study the art of healing. Since birth, she had powers beyond human understanding, and that was why she left her home at a young age, seeking the secrets that can only be taught by ethereal beings and watching them. When she arrived, she made a new home under giant boulders held together by the thick roots of a single cao huan dan tree. Like the peaches the immortal twins ate, Akiza arrived right as the ginseng fruit of the tree ripened, crying like newborns, and she ate all thirty of them, granting her immortality.

Now, with such longevity and power, Akiza dedicates her time in cultivation and in the art of healing. Her skills and knowledge have gained much attention from both deities and other immortals. Many fear her, but some have become her friend, guiding her as she takes her step towards ascension. Whispers say she will one day have a place in the heavenly court, but it would not be for a long time as Akiza feels that she is not yet worthy, that she still has much to learn, that there are people to anchors her to this earth.

Her aid is for everyone who needs it, and her price is nothing. Her beauty is beyond compare, her knowledge incomprehensible.

Crow, Winged Guardian of the Valley

With wings as black as night, Crow is the one who cast the mist of the mountain valley of Neo Domino. He is no trickster, however; he watches over the inhabitants, catching secrets and sharing burdens, and the lost humans who wander too far, he leads them back to the right path with a smile. There are, on occasion, when a child finds their way into the valley, an orphan. Adoring children and compassionate, Crow take them as his own, raising them in the mountains until they are of age. He teaches them the secrets of nature—how to listen to the wind, how speak to birds—and they learn a little of godliness. He has many wonderful memories, but the ones he remembers the most are the days when his children come off age and he sends them back out into the world where they belonged, never to see them again.

On those days, he seek out his friends, weeping over his loss and proclaiming he'd never take another human child as his own again. His bond brothers know, however, that he would fail, and the cycle repeats again and again and again. They continue to catch him when he falls, and Crow rises up each time with a smile, his feathers preened and his golden staff polished. Always, he returns to his duties.

To receive his love is to be marked by fortune; to incur his wrath is to be damned and scorned. No one can cross him without consequence.

Yūsei, Young God of Neo Domino

Born in the heavenly court, Yūsei is the first living god of Neo Domino. On the day of his birth, he fell to earth like a shooting star, and for years, he slumbered in the heart of the mountain valley, every exhale breathing life into the dirt, the leaves, and air. It is said that when he fell, Neo Domino had never been so beautiful, and the people prayed in gratitude for the gods had blessed them. They worshipped the young god long before they ever saw him, and when they did, they knew he was conceived by the Sun and the Moon, his heart beating in time with the universe and his words like water, tranquil and clear.

The son of the Sun and the Moon, he takes long slumber, sometimes for years. No one would see him, but they can feel him. Other times, he takes other forms, seamlessly shifting, and maybe even half asleep. Once, he was a rabbit, then a sparrow. After, he became a bear, then a deer. Finally, he was a rock. His friends had made it a game to find him in these forms, something the young god enjoys, and he runs as quick as thunder, here one moment and gone the next. His biggest competition is his bond brother, Jack, who refuses to stop chasing him. The others are right behind.

Certain nights a year, when the heavens creates a stream in the sky, his form gains an ethereal glow like starlight, wrapped around him like a cloak, and he embraces it back.

#yugioh 5ds #jack atlas #leo (5ds)#luna (5ds)#akiza izinski #crow hogan #yusei fudo #yugioh #ygo #kappachyun muses #eastern asian mythology #prose #fic ideas #:)#team 5ds #kizunashipping

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tisfan · 5 years

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Tentacle-Tober, Day 2

A/n - Again, from the Eight Arms to Hold You AU

The drop off was nice, this time of year. Somewhat after the mating season, and most of the seahorses were off, building their shelters for their fry.

Bucky and Tony, with their half dozen babies, all now a year old, were not getting ready for a second spawning, even though many of their friends were.

That Bucky and Tony had babies at all was something of a happy accident, and they had six of them at once, which, as Bucky said, with eight arms, he didn’t have any left over for another baby.

But right now, the drop was nice, because it wasn’t crowded, and because the kelp was thick and protective, and because the oyster beds were lush and full. Bucky and several of his children were harvesting clams, stuffing succulent little globs of meat in their mouths as often -- or maybe even more often -- than they put it in the basket to bring back to Tony, and the three siblings that remained behind at their camp site.

“Don’t get too near the edge,” Bucky cautioned, and it wasn’t the first reminder, but Jaime had a tendency to forget that he’d been warned, especially when something was new and interesting.

“Yes,” a familiar voice said. “You never know when something might reach out and grab you.”

Jaime, Ward, and Win all scuttled back to hide behind Bucky’s tentacles.

(more under the cut)

The octomer who rose out of the drop off was beautiful, with dark red hair and black limbs and tattoos all over her arms and shoulders to show off her lineage and accomplishments. The Black Widow.

“Natasha,” Bucky said, cautiously. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Bucky,” she greeted him. “I see now why my final count was off. How many did you take, how many lived?”

“As you see,” he said, indicating the boys around him, “and three more, back with my mate. They all lived, they’re all very fine fry.”

“I should like to meet this mate of yours,” Natasha said. “The others were born, stayed in the nest for some time, and are now out on their own.”

“We have a different arrangement,” Bucky said. “My mate’s not a ceph, and he enjoys the company of our children. I will bring you to him, if you want.” He wasn’t sure what Natasha wanted; he’d never been sure. They’d met, they’d mated, they’d separated, as was the custom of the cephs. After the spawning, it was likely that Natasha would have killed him, if he’d remained behind. He’d never expected to see her again, but like many male cephs, he’d stolen some of their eggs together.

“I should like to, and to meet my our children,” Natasha said, holding out tentacles to Jaime and the twins.

“They are Tony’s children, and mine,” Bucky said, firmly. “This is Jaime, and the twins, Edwin and Edward. Win, Ward, Jaime, this is Natasha. Your mother.”

The boys kept behind him, even as Bucky squirted his way across the ocean floor, headed back to where Tony and the rest of his family were having their outing.

“You’re slow,” Natasha commented. “Because of your injury?”

“What, this?” Bucky waved his stumps around. “No. I match pace to my mate.”

“Your mate is slow,” Natasha said. “I see.”

“Dad’s quite fast,” Jaime said. “When he needs to be.” Jaime always was the bravest, out of all their spawn.

“And smart,” Ward added. “He made this basket--”

Natasha tipped her head to one side. “What is a bass-baste-- basket?”

“It’s a land-dweller thing,” Bucky said, showing it to her. “We put the foods in it, and we can keep it for longer. We don’t have to forage every day.”

Natasha appeared dubious, but she’d also never had to provide for a whole school of offspring, either. Usually, Octomers were solitary creatures, meeting to mate, and then going their separate ways. The idea of keeping someone else safe, that was not a thought that would have occurred to her, not a need she would have had.

“An’ an’ an,” Win said, “he built our home. Out of rocks and reeds.” Win was very impressed with Tony’s ingenuity. All the children loved him, of course, but Peter and RiRi both mastered Tony’s skills and intellect, and Jaime didn’t always care about creating and thinking. But Win held Tony in the same esteem that most mers held Neptune; some great and mysterious being.

“Sounds like you’ve found yourself a good provider,” Natasha said. “Perhaps there is some benefit to being tied to one mate, one place.”

Tony had already put his weaving down, and while he didn’t exactly have the coral spear in hand, it was close enough by to not be an accident. They’d all learned the hard way that the sea was hard and brutal. “Who’s this?” he asked, pleasantly enough, his tail curling and uncurling with interest.

“This is Natasha,” Bucky said, indicating the red-haired octo-mer. “Natasha, this is Tony, my mate, and the rest of our school, Peter, RiRi, and Winnie.”

Tony’s eyebrow went up; he knew that name, from he and Bucky’s sharing of their histories, and Bucky telling stories of how they’d come to have such a large family, when the seahorse normal sized laying was two at most.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Tony said, and gave a little formal bow. “I am told that cephs are not one for extended social activity, but you’re welcome to join us for lunch.”

“I’m not adverse,” Natasha said, and she smiled, being charmed by Tony the same way everyone was charmed by Tony. Bucky wasn’t the least bit biased.

Bucky opened the containers that he and the children had gathered and everyone settled out with a few handfuls of delicacies. Natasha seemed particularly enamored of being able to eat more than one thing without having to move and forage elsewhere.

Riri offered Natasha up a few of her woven and shelled bracelets and then had to show her how to wear it. Natasha was a deeper water Octomer and hadn’t spent nearly as much time observing land-dwellers and the man-things that they made as Bucky had. She was reserved, if interested, in the children, but not so interested that Bucky worried that she was planning to steal them back from him.

During their meal, she told them about some of her adventures, and the several dozen brothers and sisters that she’d safely spawned, and then left to their own devices. One of them, a white haired child, had called herself Kobik, and Natasha saw her with some regularity.

“You name yourselves?” Peter asked, astonished.

“Of course,” Natasha said. “I am the one who will hear my name most often in my life. Why would it not be something I chose for myself?”

“And here I think of my name,” Tony said, mildly, “as the very first gift a parent can give their child.”

“An interesting notion,” Natasha said in that voice that meant she didn’t agree in the slightest, but didn’t want to argue about it.

Not long after the food supplies were depleted and everyone had eaten as much as they wanted, Natasha made her farewells. “It was good to see you, safe and content, Bucky. It is not the life I would have chosen for either of us, so it is good that it falls to your lot.”

“You’re welcome to stop by, if you like,” Tony said. “We’d be happy to see you, and I’m sure the children would be happy to get to know you better.”

“We shall see,” Natasha said. “This may be more social time than I’ve had in the last year, and I’m not sure if I need any more anytime soon.”

“Be well, Natasha,” Bucky told her, squeezing one of her many arms with his.

“Goodbye.”

Tony watched until she was out of sight, and then watched a bit longer. Finally, when they were sure that Natasha was well beyond being able to see or hear anything they said -- although it was Natasha, and Bucky would not have put it past her to sneak ‘round them on the other side to listen in -- Tony turned to his mate.

“Well, that was very interesting,” Tony said. “I want you to tell me absolutely everything she said before you brought her to lunch.”

“Jealous, darling?” Bucky wondered, hauling his mate in to a warm embrace with many of his sticky arms involved.

“No,” Tony denied, although he was not objecting to the tentacled embrace. “I know you’re my mate, and you’re not leaving us for her, no matter how many arms she wiggles at you.”

“Was she wiggling at me? I didn’t even notice,” Bucky said. “You’re more than an armful for me.”

Tony made a face like he was going to complain some more, but Bucky kissed him until he melted into it, clinging to Bucky with both hands.

Natasha was right; Bucky was content with his lot, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

#tentacletober prompts #Eight Arms to Hold You AU #mer-fic #octobucky/seahorse tony

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Rise of the Guardians: Earthsong

Ao3

Chapter 3: Mother Nature

As Jack spiraled down from the clear blue sky towards the emerald earth below, he could hear nothing over the tremendous thundering of the water cascading from the cliffside to splash into the massive pool hundreds of feet below. White, frothy foam bubbled at the point of impact, swirling through the crystal clear water like soap. Just feet from the rocky shore of the pool, the forest encroached, towering trees stretching their leafy branches to the sky while ferns and bushes hugged their thick trunks and roots. Broad leaves caught the sunlight wherever possible. He landed beside the water, his bare feet digging into the soft, loamy earth for a brief second before it froze solid beneath his toes. He inhaled the deep forest air, savoring the scent of succulent fruits and flowers mingling with earth and decay, then propped himself up on his staff.

“Now, where would a nature spirit hide around here?” he wondered aloud, swinging his staff as he began poking around the massive waterfall. The water droplets shooting through the air froze into little diamond droplets as they splashed onto his clothes and hair. He left icy footprints where he walked, meandering around the edge of the pool to inspect crevices in rocks and pull up rotting logs, watching as the bugs scattered to find another dank, dark hole. He found plenty of centipedes and spiders and beetles, and dark tunnels, but no sign of the beautiful, golden-haired woman he sought. With an irritated huff, he whirled around and shouted up at the booming waterfall, “Oi! Mother Nature! You out here?” His voice bounced through the small clearing; his only answer was his echo. He stomped over to the rocky moss-coated cliff smothered with stubborn clinging plants to lean up against it with his arms crossed, snorting. “Where are you?”

He took a few minutes to fume silently before he pushed himself away from the wall, unable to think straight with the constant, tremendous drumming of the gushing water. He craned his neck to gaze up at the impressive height of the waterfall until his eyebrows knit together when a sudden thought occurred to him. Could there be something behind the waterfall? All of the Guardians had homes in securely hidden, off-the-wall places, after all; it would not be unreasonable, given the massive size of the cliff from which the waterfall poured, for there to be an expansive cavern hidden behind the streaming water. Thus, Jack swirled his staff and allowed the cold wind to bear him into the air, shooting alongside the endless torrent.

Stray droplets rained down onto him as he peered behind the sheet of foaming water, but all he could discern was the same slick, dark rock. When he was about halfway up, he was beginning to grow discouraged, until the rough surface suddenly vanished. Beyond the water, the wall abruptly caved in into a spacious cave-like opening. Finally! Carefully, using the slippery rock as a foothold, he wormed his way into the thin gap between the hollow and the thundering water. Somehow, he managed to squeeze through without slipping, though his hair and clothes now contained a thin frost from the sheer amount of water that poured onto him. He shook his head, sending snowflakes fluttering in the gloom. Only a little light filtered through the waterfall, white lines dancing across the moss-slicked cave floor; however, the back of the cave was shrouded in deep darkness. Cautiously, he descended into the murkiness, holding his staff aloft as the shadows embraced him.

As he pressed further, the rhythmic drumming of the waterfall was replaced by the fall of his footsteps echoing in the gloom. The air was cold and heavy with moisture, causing his breath to fog up in front of his face. It felt like he shuffled through the dark for an eternity. He soon wondered if it would be a dead end. Then, suddenly, a light glimmered. “Bingo!” he grinned and shot towards it. The ball of light rapidly expanded until it swallowed him, and it was so bright that he had to squeeze his eyes shut and shield his face with a hand lest he be blinded. His lashes repeatedly fluttered for a moment as his eyes gradually adjusted to the glaring light, and as he did so, a fantastic image emerged. “Wooooow!” he breathed as he lowered his arm, his eyes wide with wonder.

The cave led to a gigantic circular cavern hewn into the inside of the cliffs, a hemisphere hundreds of feet in diameter. The stone was not just dark like outside, but carved with rivers of white calcification from the high level of moisture. Stalactites and stalagmites and columns spanned the impressive height, making the room seem like some elaborate throne room. At the peak of the dome, the ceiling had fallen away, leaving a large hole open to the world above. Vines crawled over the edge and clung desperately to the stone ceiling. The light that filled the spacious room originated from this point, as well as a few other holes dotted here and there in the stone ceiling. That wasn't the most impressive thing, though.

Planted in the center of the cavern was the most massive tree that Jack had ever seen in his life. The tree’s trunk was colossal, so large that five of him probably couldn't embrace the entire circumference. Its branches were as thick as the trunks of the trees outside, twisting like corkscrews through the air. They even bent down to crawl along the stone floor. Smaller branches sprouted from the thick main branches, and smaller ones sprung from those, making a dense network. The leaves, about the size of his hand, were rich emerald and shining in the sunlight. Strange, glittering fruits, perfectly spherical and several feet in diameter, nestled within. Jack scampered over to the nearest one, contained within a bend in one of the thick branches, and was amazed to find that they were not fruits at all; rather, they were portals of some kind.

“Amazing!” he breathed as he brought his face close to the portal-like orb, the surface rippling with his breath like a bubble. Within the sphere was an entire world, a beautiful coral reef stretching across blue-grey stone. The corals were dyed red, blue, purple, yellow, green, and every shade in-between, with structures that varied just as much- branches and fans and brains and shapes he couldn’t even describe. The squishy stingers of anemones flowed back and forth in the gentle water current, and Jack was delighted to see little orange-and-white clownfish flitting between them. Other colorful fishes swam in schools across the reef, an eel poked its snake-like head out of a hole, an octopus scuttled across the rocky floor, starfish clung to the rocks and corals- even a sea turtle slowly glided by, like a guardian enduring the peace of its sanctum. Jack's blue eyes shimmered with the light playing through the water, and almost entranced, he found himself reaching out to touch it. His hand did not meet resistance with the barrier, however; it melted through the thin, malleable surface to slip into the water, and he felt the coolness of it spreading across his hand. He pulled it out and was astonished to find that it was not wet, and a grin slowly spread across his face. Without further ado, he shoved his head into the strange ball.

His head emerged from a sizable crevice within the rocks, and his hair floated around him as he turned his head from side to side. His appearance had startled the fish around him, sending them scattering like marbles, but after a few minutes, they grew more curious than afraid and ventured over to inspect the strange boy. He laughed as they nipped at his frosty-white hair and swam in front of his face, and his giggles sent them fleeing once more. After a few more minutes of enjoying the underwater haven, he pulled his head out of the sphere to return to the task at hand.

He walked toward the base of the tree, stepping over the roots that had cracked through the rocky earth and maneuvering through the sprawling branches, all while investigating the strange portal spheres. He saw an African savanna, a dense jungle, an Antarctic tundra, a scorching desert, and several kinds of forests. As he grew closer to the heart of the tree, he began to see more and more species of animals he did not recognize; they were funny-looking and a lot bigger. He jumped back from one, a sphere containing swirling snow and an icy glacier, when he saw a wooly mammoth trudging through the snow. He peered into it, watching in awe as a pack of saber-tooth tigers sprung out from behind some rocks to begin chasing after the sizeable elephant-like creature. “What the-? What is this tree?” he cried and dashed forward, jumping up in the air to follow the spheres further into the dense treetop. He landed on one thick branch next to one orb with an open plain, and his jaw dropped when he saw dinosaurs dashing across the short grass. “Cool! If only Jamie could see this!” he snickered and jumped down. Though he would love to explore the portals, he had a job to do.

As he landed back on the rough, rocky ground and glanced at the thick trunk, he was finally close enough to discover that a multi-room cottage built around the massive tree. It was made of soft, creamy brown wood with cream-colored accents, shutters, and the like. Its roof tiles were a darker shade. Jack could see a warm light blazing within the marbled glass windows, but because of the pattern, he could not see anything inside. Outside was a gazebo of white metal, with crawling ivy with large white flowers in bloom. On that gazebo was a set of two plush, grey chairs and a small gray table. In one of those chairs sat the woman Jack had been trying to find.

She sat with a book in her small hands, and her face turned downward as she read silently. All he could hear was the occasional turn of the page. Jack cautiously crept closer with his staff clutched in his hand; he could only barely see her, and she did not know that he was there; he didn't want to startle her, but in case he did, he certainly did not want to be caught unawares. As he came around to peer into the opening of the awning, his heart stopped in his chest. She was looking at him, staring at him with eyes like pure emeralds, her golden hair shining around her.

“Did you enjoy the Tree of Life?” she asked him. Jack was struck by how beautiful her voice sounded; it matched the rest of her, soft and sweet as North's silver bells. He stood there for a moment, captivated, while a small smile appeared on her pink lips. Then she snapped the book shut, jarring him out of his stupor.

“O-oh. Yes,” he stammered shyly, glancing up at the impressive plant. “The Tree of Life?” he echoed.

“Yes. It is the record of all life since the beginning of time, and I am its keeper,” she explained. “Those portals lead to biomes that are representative of different points in time, both past and present.” Jack bit down on his knuckles slightly as the happiness bubbled up inside of him again, and a pink haze appeared on her cheeks as he hopped into the gazebo to gesture wildly at the tree with his staff.

“So, you have every animal ever here?” When she nodded, he laughed giddily and danced around slightly, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, man, I gotta bring Jamie here! Man, he would love this! Wait, wait, what about mythical creatures? You got those?” he babbled, whirling back on her and causing her to jump.

“Yes, I do,” she smiled and rose from her chair and waved for him to follow her as she stepped out of the gazebo. He scampered after her, avoiding the flowing train of her white dress as she walked out into the grass. He found that she was barefoot as well, and little flowers sprouted where she strode. She walked up to the trunk of the tree and placed her hand on the bark. To his shock, the tree began to move, its branches writhing and shifting positions. One of them dove down to settle itself in front of her. A sphere perched against the wood, and she waved him over. Jack approached the globe and peered inside to see a forest clearing, which contained a shining white unicorn grazing in the grass. His lips parted slightly as he gazed at it in pure wonder, and when he looked at Mother Nature, she was smiling proudly. “Who is Jamie?” she inquired as she touched the tree again, sending it back to its original position, and he smiled bashfully.

“Oh. He’s a little boy I’m friends with… He's real big into mythical creatures, and he would have a ball with this place,” he snickered, leaning on his staff. Now that the initial excitement was over, he finally had the presence of mind to really look at her. “You know, you’re pretty young-looking for someone they call Mother Nature,” he frowned. Honestly, she looked no older than he did. She blushed again and looked away.

“I’m only one in a long line of Mother Natures. I inherited the title four hundred years ago. The Earth appoints us to guide life's progression and record it, and, if necessary, protect it,” she explained. “I am also responsible for the coming of spring, the renewal of life each year.” As she mentioned the season, he suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place.

“Oh! Speaking of, Mot- no, that's weird. I’m calling you something else. Can I call you… Nat? Yeah, I’m calling you Nat. Anyway! You’re in big trouble!” he cried and grabbed her by the shoulder, shaking her a little. Her eyes fluttered rapidly as she struggled to comprehend his stream of chatter until she finally narrowed her eyes at him.

“Trouble? Whatever do you mean?”

“It's Pitch Black! I overheard him hatching a plan to ‘rid the world of its spring,’ and so the other Guardians sent me to come get you so we can keep you safe.” At the mention of the Bogeyman, her expression grew sour, and she pulled herself away from him to march toward her cabin. “Um, where are you going?” he asked as he scurried after her.

“So, Pitch thinks that he can defeat me, does he?” she snorted, ignoring him as she threw the door to the cabin open and stomped inside. He poked his head into the threshold, his eyes following her movement to a fireplace. She plucked an ebony-wood bow from a mount above the hearth, and grabbed a quiver of arrows from a hanging hook. As she whirled around, her golden hair and white dress spun with her. “Well, I think he'll find that I’m quite a bit tougher than I look.” I like her spirit, he thought with a smirk as she haughtily stomped back out of the building, red roses springing up where she walked. Do the flowers change with her moods? He thought with a grin. “To be honest, Nat, I didn't think it would be that easy. Bunny said you were shy. Is that why I’ve never seen you in four hundred years?” he asked casually, and as the words left his mouth, she stiffened. That’s weird.

“… I just don't get out much. I have to keep constant guard over the Tree of Life. It is the lifeblood of the Earth, not just a record. If anything happens to it, then the Earth will freeze in time. Crops will yield little, animals will give less and less meat, and the Dark Ages will return,” she answered, but despite the logic, he could tell that she was withholding something from him. However, before he could inquire, she summoned an orb from the tree again. She leaned forward, whispering into it in an ancient language, then retreated. “You may want to step back,” she warned as he tried to walk closer and inspect it. When he moved to look at her, he cried out when a massive reptilian head shoved its way out of the bubble.

“You have a dragon?” he shouted as the gigantic winged lizard slithered out of the sphere, rapidly growing larger as it exited the portal. It towered nearly as high as the tree itself, its scales as emerald as Nat's eyes. Its thick legs stood on either side of Jack as he craned his neck to gaze up at it in sheer awe, while its tail slithered back and forth over the rocky earth. Its bat-like wings folded against its side, and when its long neck twisted around so it could look at him, golden eyes bored deep into his soul. Its forked tongue flickered out of its maw to lick him, and he wriggled at the strange, tickling sensation. “Hey!” he snickered. The dragon exhaled deeply, blowing white smoke into the air before it looked at Nat.

“This is Salazar. He guards the Tree while I am away,” she smiled as she reached up and stroked the dragon's face. The ground rumbled from the ferocity of its purring, like a gigantic cat. Then, after being caressed for a few moments, it slipped away to curl protectively around the cabin and tree. Jack held a hand out for her, to which she responded with a quizzical look.

“We have to fly to the North Pole.”

“Who said I needed your help to fly?” she smiled wryly, and placed her fingers in her mouth to whistle shrilly. A loud neigh responded, and Jack glanced up as he heard the leaves rustling wildly. From the emerald green burst a white shape, and he grinned elatedly as a pegasus soared around the top of the tree before descending and landing primly in front of Nat. She climbed up onto the beautiful white winged horse, slinging the bow and quiver over her back. The horse tossed its head, flipping its long mane about, before she smirked at him. “After you.”

Jack grinned before flipping his staff and summoning the winds, shooting upwards to soar above the giant tree through the hole in the cave top. He glanced down to see the horse galloping through the air after him, with Nat perched on his back with her golden hair streaming in the wind.

Well, mission accomplished. I wonder what will happen next?

Here’s the next chapter! Want more stories? Check out my Table of Contents!

#rotg #rise of the guardians #rotg oc #jack frost x oc #rotg fanfiction #rotg fanfic #rise of the guardians fanfiction #rise of the guardians fanfic #jack frost #frostednature #frosted nature #mother nature #mother nature oc

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greeny-witchling · 4 years

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Moon / Luna Masterpost

! DISCLAIMER: The following informationc are may wrong. If you see any misinformations, let me know, but not in the harsh way please! The links where the infromations (mainly) are from, are at the bottom. There are everything assosiated with the sun, use, what is helpful !

Note: i’m starting to post things like this. Mainly about astronomy, green witchery, kitchen witchcraft, zodiacs and more. If you are intrested or it was helpful please let me know!

The moon has been captivating people since the beginning of time. It’s guided our way on the darkest of nights and pulls at the tides as well as our emotions. There are myths and stories about the moon from every ancient culture, and it is still a central part of many pagan religions and spiritual paths. Here we break down the basics of lunar magick into easy-to-digest chunks including the moon’s phases, magical properties, correspondences, and more. Lunar energy is great for divination and dream work and to counteract Mars and Sun influences. Stones that correspond to the energy of the moon tend to be white and/or luminescent. Luna reflects the light of the Sun and is the closest sphere to Earth: the abode of physical form. It does not generate its own light as the Sun does, but serves as a filter for it, refracting and reflecting it in a coarser, more obfuscated manner.

The Female Body & The Moon

Just as the moon is reborn, grows, reaches its fullest potential, then wanes again, so do our bodies. For thousands of years, women have noticed their moon cycles (menstruation – the syllable men meaning moon/month) syncing up with the moon’s phases. This is lunar magick at its core. Just as the moon waxes and wanes, so too does the womb. This is why the moon is often associated with the Goddess in forms of neopaganism and Wicca.

The Triple Goddess & Our Lives

Wiccans associate the Triple Goddess with the moon’s phases: the maiden (waxing moon), the mother (full moon), and the crone (waning moon). We all go through these phases in our lives (both men and women) corresponding to our youth, adult child-rearing years, and our elder years. So we are all attuned to the moon phases and lunar magick, it’s just that most people don’t realize it.

The Moon in Mythology: Most Lunar deities in Western Tradition are female, though male lunar deities are found throughout the world as well. Lunar deities are often associated with Motherhood or the Sea.

The Moon in Astrology: As the moon moves across the sky, it passes through the various zodiac signs, primarily affecting our moods and reactions. Those who have a sun sign align to the water element will feel this effect most strongly. The moon travels through each sign every month, staying in each sign for up to three days before moving on. At the New Moon, she will be in the same sign as the Sun and at the Full Moon, she will be in the opposite sign.

zodiac: cancer metal: silver day: Monday other names: Luna, The Moon, The treause house of images tarot: The High Priestess (II) associations: 3, G, Gimel(Camel) mantric sound: „A” colour/s: white, blue, silver, rayed sky blue, cold pale blue, indigo numbers: 9, 81, 369, 3321 stone/s: moonstone, selenite, obsidian, silver, mother-of-pearl, aquamarine, gold beryl, topaz, emerald, clear quartz, coral, pearls planetary qualities: Cyclicity of manifestation. Waxing and waning. Liminal states. Potentiality of manifestation. Healing. Psychicism. Dreaming and sleep. Lunar Herbs: Lunar herbs tend to be juicy and lightly sweet and with a sweet (sometimes cloying) fragrance. Either they produce watery fruits, or they have succulent leaves or both. Many moon herbs relieve mild pain and/or gently induce sleep. Many moon plants open at night and close during the day or release their scent at night to attract nocturnal pollinators. Moon plants often grow near water. White or silvery plants tend to correspond to lunar energy and sometimes these plants bear the mark of the moon even more strongly. Sedative, hormone-balancing, tonic to the brain or stomach, narcotic or painkilling plants. Cooling and moisturizing plants. Plants with moon-shaped parts. Plants with high water content. Medicinal plants affecting the emotions, sleep, or the female reproductive system. Often have a rotten or sickly sweet smell . Herbal/Plant Moon Correspondences: vervain, moonflower, jasmine, lemon balm, cabbage, camellia, camphor, chickweed, moonwort, grape, lemon, turnip, potato, pea, cucumber, pear, peach, mountain ash, mango, wallflower, rowan, cactus, eucalyptus, coconut, lotus, myrrh, gardenia, sandalwood, orris, ginseng, Evening Primrose, Night Jasmine, melon, bitter, almond, agave, milkweed, passionflower(sedative), mallow, Willow(pain), poppy (sedative, pain relief), Gooseberry, Goat’s beard, Mugwort, Wild Yam(hormones), Iris, acanthus, adder’s tounge, alum root, arrowleaf, astible, banana, bear’s breeches, blue hibiscus, blue nepal poppy, blue water lily, califronia poppy, chamomile, clary sage, coral bells, cuckoo flower, devil’s trumpet, dog rose, flowering currant, flowering rush, fluellen, fungi, fuschia, gooseberry, green calla, hazel, heart leaf, heuchera, high malow, himalaayan blue hybrid blue, hydrangea, iris, italian aurm, japanese poppy, juniper, leafy vegetables, lettuce, loosestrife, madonna lily, moly, mouse-eared, hawkweed, mushroom, nigth blooming plants, norfolk-island hibiscus, oyster plant, peacenlily, wild pear, pickerel weed, pumpkin, purslane, ranunculus, round cardaom, St. John’s flower, saxifrage, sea holly, seaweed, soma, star anise, stonecrop, strawberry, geranium, sweet pea, tibetan blue, tomato fruit, tree anemone, watercress, water lily, water gladiolus, waterhyacint, white anthurium, white rose, wintergeen, yucca Lunar Fragrances- Incense, Oils and Fumigation Herbs: Almond, clary sage, Banana, Calamus (herb, essential oil), Camphor, Chamomile, Clary Sage, Dark of the Moon Oil, Dreamworld, Incense, Full Moon Oil, Leaves of Moon Incense, Melon, Menstrual Blood, Orris, Poppy seeds, Rose, Sandarac Storax, Sweet Virginal odors, Waning Moon Oil, Wintergreen, Yesod Oil Incense: Star Anise, Mugwort, Wormwood, Lavender, Mullein, Dittany of Crete, Jasmine, Camphor symbols: the high priestess (tarot card), the chariot (tarot card), bow and arrow, crab, cat, turtle, sphinx, owl body parts and disaeses: Lymphatic system; SAD, PMS, structural brain problems, like tumors drugs: Sedative, hormone-blanacing, tonic to the brain or stomach, narcotic or painkilling, juniper, pennyroyal, emmenogogues, valerian Animal Moon Correspondences: owls, rabbits, wolves, deer, cats, moths, bats, spiders, raccoons, opossum, cows, frogs, dogs, crabs Deities Moon Correspondences (of clairvoyance, divination, maidenhood, cycles, fertility): Sophia, Thoth, Blodeuwedd, Man in the Moon, Rabbit in the Moon, Khonsu, Sina, Gabriel, Aine of Knockaine, Al-Lat, Al-Uzza, Alcyone, Alphito, Anahita, Anat, Andraste, Anu, Aradia, Arianrhod, Artemis, Asherah, Atargatis, Callisto, Cerridwen, Ch'ang O, Chons, Circe, Coatlicue, Coyolxuahqi, Diana, Don, El, Hathor, Hekate, Hera, Inanna, Ixchup, Jana, Juno, Kali, Khensu, Kuu, Luna, Rhiannon, Selene, Siva Somantha, Tlazolteotl moon beings: lemures, ghosts influences: gratitude, friendliness, safe travel, physical health, wealth, protection from enemies, deception, illusion, women, emotions, healing, dreams, prophecy Moon Signs: The moon sign in your natal chart reveals your feminine side. It governs your deepest fears, your emotional needs and your intuition. Magick: Cycles, emotions, secrets, divination, divine feminine, your feminine side, the subconscious, dreams, and dream work, finding a path, hidden intentions, White tincture, Clairvoyance, Divination by dreams, Bow & Arrow, Controlling or working with cyclical events, Watery, cold, or static states, Good against Sun or Mars influences, Works targeting the emotions, astral travel, subconscious

Moon altar:

Moon altars are sacred, magical spaces that you create to honor and harness the different energies of the lunar cycle. Like all altars, a moon altar is a place where you can focus and direct energy through your witchcraft. You can perform spells or meditations at your moon altar or simply send your gratitude up to the moon for shining down on you night after night. I want to start by saying there’s no wrong way to make a moon altar. You can set it up inside or outside, elaborate or simple, and everything in between. Though there are certain magical tools that you can include on your altar to add power and focus, there’s no specific set of directions to set up a moon altar. That means you can get as creative as you like when setting up your moon altar. As long as your altar feels sacred, special, and powerful, you’re good to go!

Traveling Moon Altars: You can take your witchcraft with you wherever you go! A popular way to do this is to use a small drawstring bag, an altar cloth tied up to make a pouch, or an empty mint tin to store the magical tools for your moon altar. Put travel-friendly magical tools in your altar containers such as small crystals, tarot cards, birthday candles, colored ribbon (for knot spells or color magic), or any other objects that you feel belong in your moon altar. These altars are great if you love to go hiking and want to set up an altar outside under the moon. Stationary Moon Altars: This is what people typically think of when it comes to altars. These are the altars that are set up on a dedicated space in your home or outdoor area. Some witches will keep these altars up all the time; other witches will keep their tools in a box or drawer when not in use. These altars are great because you can deck them out with all kinds of trinkets and tools and not have to worry about losing or damaging these items during travel. Mental Altars: This is a more unconventional altar option that might appeal to you if you love visualizing. You can actually make a moon altar using only your mind. In your mind’s eye, visualize a sacred space in any location in the world and include any magical tools you’d like to use on your moon altar. Visualizing an altar is a great meditation on its own or combined with other moon rituals like taking a moon bath (in lunar light) or performing divination magic under the moon. If you don’t have the time or energy to set up an altar, you can sit outside under the moon or by a window and simply visualize your moon altar.

representing the moon on the altar: chrystals (Some witches believe that moonstone is best used during the waxing moon phase because all the other phases of the moon deplete or dilute its energy.), with plants, herbs, flower Candles to Represent the Moon: Any kind of candle can represent the moon because candles are tools that provide light. White tea lights are ideal for moon altars because they’re inexpensive, and they’re round like the moon. They also make black tea lights which are nice to use during the new moon. Use your moon candle for spells or divination methods like scrying and candle gazing. You can burn intentions with your moon candle if you like. You can also try lighting your candle for the waxing moon and full moon phases and keeping your candle unlit for the waning moon and new moon phases. Unusual Tools to Represent the Moon: egg, marshmallow, sugar or salt, ribbon, a mirror

Water of moon

associations: the chariot VII, Het, Homakhu, Apollo hte Charioteer zodiac: cancer stones: emerald, cat’s eye, pearl, moonstone, amber plants: lotus, moonwort, papaver somniferum, passionflower, water lily, white poppy, white rose colors: pale blue, viler, pearl, white, amber, dark greenish, brown, rich bright russet, maroon animals: crab, turtle, sphinx body parts: stomach beings: vampire scents: onycha, rose, lotus drugs: watercress magick: Power of casting enchantments; weapon is the furnace; figures are Populus and Via

Where my informations are from(for credit):

!Please look up the links, because some thins I already writed down before, that things have been left out. https://otherworldlyoracle.com/lunar-magick-beginners/ https://witchipedia.com/astrology/moon/ https://www.alchemy-works.com/planets_moon.html https://luxsaturni.com/planetary-magic/luna/ https://thetravelingwitch.com/blog/how-to-create-an-effective-moon-altar-for-your-magic